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help.”
    Being an outcast and fugitive himself, he was prone toward instant sympathy for them. But being softhearted toward mortals was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place.
    â€œExplain,” Jason said.
    â€œWhat do you know of werewolves?” Grigor asked.
    â€œThat most werefolk are born with the ability to change shape to wolf, bear, or whatever they become at will, and keep sane while doing it. But a mortal bitten by one of the werefolk turns into a creature forced to shift into a maddened animal during the full moon.”
    â€œPrecisely,” Sacha replied. “Our people, Prime, are somewhere in between. The natural-born see the bitten as diseased, and a threat to their own existence. They are more likely to hunt down and murder the ones their own renegades are responsible for making, than they are to try to help them.”
    â€œIs there help?” Jason asked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know very much about shape-shifters.”
    â€œWe tame them,” Sacha told him. “The Hunyara took on that responsibility long ago.”
    â€œWe had to,” Grigor added. “It is better to tame than it is to kill members of our own family.”
    â€œSome of us carry the disease,” Sacha said. “An ancestor was bitten, and the tribe cared for him. He escaped during a full moon and bit his own wife and son. She became a werewolf. With the son it was different. Instead of turning him, the attack brought out the skill to reach into the werewolf’s mind. Ever since then, some of our people become werewolves, and others are able to control them. I am the current Wolf Tamer of the tribe.”
    Northeast of San Diego, Spring, Present Day
    â€œDoes that explanation work for you?”
    Sofia heard the question as though it were asked from a very long distance, then she realized that Jason’s hands were on her face, his body pinning her against her car.
    The chill of winter faded, along with the firelight and the faces and words that filled her head. She blinked as the hot, bright afternoon came sharply back into focus.
    â€œWhat happened?” She looked sharply at the man holding her. He was an illusionist, a stage magician. “How did you do that?”
    â€œNever mind,” he said, and took a step back. His hands moved to her shoulders, warming her more than the sunlight of the fading day. “I’m sorry that you’re being asked to take a lot of things that sound like nonsense at face value.”
    The screwy thing was that, coming from him, she half wanted to believe this nonsense. Sofia shook her head. “One of us has got to be crazy. You, specifically,” she added.
    He laughed. “The supernatural is perfectly normal to me, but I understand your skepticism. Think about what I showed you.” He glanced at the sky and sighed. “We’ll talk later.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with talking right now?”
    This was stupid! She should want nothing more than to run away from this guy, yet a knot of loneliness squeezed her heart at the prospect of him leaving. She was never going to see him again, was she?
    â€œDon’t look so sad.” He stroked her cheek, cupped her chin in his palm, and looked deep into her eyes. She wanted him to kiss her again. “I want to kiss you, too. May I?”
    He lifted her hand to his lips.
    So I can find you again, his voice whispered in her mind.
    She thought he was going to kiss the back of her hand, a romantic but terribly old-fashioned gesture. But she didn’t mind because she’d been reading a lot of Jane Austen lately.
    Instead, he bit her wrist.

Chapter Six
    Wolf Clan Citadel, La Jolla, California, Present Day
    H ow long do you think we’ll have to stay?” Eden asked as they approached the Moroccan-style mansion Lady Juanita called home.
    Sidonie Wolf knew that her sister-in-law wasn’t comfortable around large numbers of vampires, and she