Two blinks later, I remembered to close my mouth. Shock, anger, and absolute disgust welled up inside me. What the hell was he doing here? He hadn't laid one finger on me, and yet I felt violated. He had no right being here.

I sat up, pulling the towel around me, unsure of what would come out of my mouth. Before I could say anything, Riley strolled forward reaching for my hands.

"Please. Don't cover up on my account,” he said, grin bowing his lips. “I've enjoyed gawking at your gorgeous body since you were eighteen. Boy, it's a delight to know things haven't changed."

I slapped his hands away from me. “You son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing here?” Oh how I itched to throw him through the textured glass blocks behind me.

"Now, honey, I only came here to talk."

"I'm not your fucking honey!” Turning my back on him, I readjusted my towel and tucked it in around my chest. “What the hell would possess you to come here now? Of all times! Last time I spoke to Dane the Club was dead."

"Would you settle down? I only came here to see how things were shaping up between you and your beau. Any babies yet?"

"That's none of your business! And if you're here, then it's Club business. Which means you followed me here and waited until I was alone."

"Well ... since you're right on every count, any chance you could hook me up with that cute little gingerbread chic?” Riley touched his tanned finger to my shoulder, sliding it across my shoulder blade. “Unless that would make you jealous."

I whacked his hand away from me. “Stay the away from her!"

"Oh well,” he sighed, shoulders deflating. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, and held it up to my face. “Well, Dane's breathing life back into the Club and he's expecting you to be there."

Snatching it from him, I almost tore it open trying to unfold it. “And why the hell would do something like that? I told Dane that I wasn't—"

"Let me summarize it for you.” Closing the distance between us, he met my eyes. All jovial silliness gone from his blue eyes, a rare seriousness etched his face. “Alan, Chris, and Jocelyn went out on a recon mission. No one's heard from them in more than a week."

I couldn't do anything except muster a stunned stare. Seven friends gone and three more to add to the list. A person could only take so much.

"I can't do this,” I whispered, my body trembling. “Not again. I can't..."

"You have to."

I shot a glare at him. “Why? Why the fuck do I have to—"

"Because around the same time Jocelyn and others disappeared, someone put a bounty on your husband's head. They claim that he's the one responsible."

Snorted air escaped my lips. This couldn't be happening. I shook my head in disbelief. “It's a lie; I can vouch for Matt. I know for a fact that he has nothing to do wi—"

Riley shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “Doesn't matter. You know as well as I do that the only thing an assassin is going to see when they look at him is a wad of dough. They're not going to care about alibis and setups. They'll shoot him first and sort out the mess later."

My eyes narrowed on him as my thinking processes started functioning again. “And you guys knew about this for a while, didn't you?"

He hesitated, gaze lowering to the floor.

Smack!

Before I realized it, my burning palm left an angry welt across his cheek.

None of this made sense. But I couldn't keep that one person coming to mind as all of this unfolded before my eyes. Somehow Parry was involved. That bastard had found out about my “extracurricular activity” and planned on using it to destroy our lives. It was the only thing that made sense.

According to Riley, Dane thought the best way to proceed was to find out what had really happened to our comrades in order to clear Matt's name. I preferred going up to Boston and putting a bullet through the back of that Pack Alpha prick's skull and leaving the vultures to sort through the pickings. Unfortunately, I knew Dane was right. If we could prove that the bounty on Matt's head was false in any way, then nobody would bother with it.

So another question came to mind. If Dane knew about the contract, how long would it take before the Georgia Pack knew? Not long, I'd wager. They stood to lose a lot by not keeping track of the activities going on in the werewolf community.

Feigning a migraine, I asked Aiyana to drive me home. Of course, it wasn't that far from the truth. I begged her not to mention a word to Matt, thinking for once that he might actually be safer under the pack's watchful eye.

The moment I bounded through the front door, I dropped everything on the floor, leaving a path to our home office. I plopped myself into the chair and began clicking away on the computer, bringing up information on the Internet. Before Riley sneaked out of the spa, he gave me enough details to go on.

Over the last few months, a dozen animal-attack deaths had plagued the Raleigh-Durham area in North Carolina. Since humans didn't think in terms of werewolves, the police concluded that it was a pack of rabid dogs. Dane had found additional connections to a disappearance in Chapel Hill and two more in Knightdale. According to Dane's letter, an anonymous pack reported the disturbance and tried handling it themselves. Out of the five members they sent, only one made it back. The rest of the anonymous pack put a huge bounty on the rogues. Alan Cummings, the Club's second-in-command, had talked Chris and Jocelyn Brown into doing some reconnaissance while Dane worked on gathering enough resources for the first hunting venture in months. With the Club's membership down by three, Dane couldn't afford to have anything less than the best of the best. That included me.

When it came time to give Dane a call, I could hardly contain the anger swirling inside me.

"Angel,” he answered, full of cheer. “Riley must have touched base with you. You ready to head out—"

"Cut the bullshit, Dane!” Thank goodness Matt wasn't here. I had cursed more in the past few hours than I had in years. I calmed myself to the point that all I could muster was a growl. “You motherfuckers knew about the contract on Matt and not once did you give me the heads up. What the hell?"

He sighed. “Your life wasn't in danger."

Did I just hear what I thought I heard? “And that makes it okay? What kind of sinister jackass are you?"

"No, Angel. That doesn't make it okay."

"You're damn right!"

"Hold on.” A click came from his end of the phone. “Someone wants to say hello."

"Hello, honey.” Uncle Graham's voice came loud and clear over the speaker. That voice clenched at my gut, twisting it into undiscovered hatred. “I know we should have told you, but this is my fault. I asked Dane not to tell you because I knew you'd be upset. It's better to—"

"Upset?” I squealed. “Ya think? I love you, Uncle Graham, but don't you ever play god with my husband's life. I'll snatch your ass off the planet so fast, you'll wonder if your Native American roots ever had a place in it. And Dane, don't think for a minute I'll stop there."

I knew those two hated my husband for stealing my attention away from them. Good lord, I've joined the ranks of the married and now I have obligations. You would have thought they would be over it by now. Sure, I shouldn't have waited until my wedding day to get those three together, but I knew Matt would never have made the cut with them. In their eyes, no man—especially no werewolf—would ever be good enough for their darling little “Angel.” But that was no excuse to keep this kind of information from me in the hopes that some assassin would eliminate their problem. Though they didn't outright say it, I knew that was the reason they didn't tell me. How in the world could someone have that kind of hatred festering inside them? Did they ever think about what it'd do to me if my husband died? Obviously not!

"Innocent people have lost their lives to this rogue pack. Don't you forget that!” Graham took a breath before going on. “We take an eight month break to recoup after a tragic loss and you decide you want to play housewife instead. What's happened to you, child? Has your husband finally brainwashed you into being the proper werewolf wife? Teaching you your submissive role in his bed?"

"What goes on in my bed is none of your damn business. And in case your senility has kicked in, I didn't have a choice about this life. Grandfather chose for me."

"Who was it that taught you how to accept it? We did. It's not perfect, but it's the only way we know."

"And that's what got everyone killed."

I couldn't keep the tears from blurring my eyes or the lump from closing my throat. When tears spilled over, I swiped them off my cheeks.

Eight long-ass months and you would have thought I'd be over this by now. Adding three more to the list didn't help. I couldn't take the thought of one more person dying on our watch. And if it was my husband, though he was nothing more than an outsider to them, I'd lose my mind and take my own life. There was too much death and destruction in this business. I just didn't want to do it anymore. Why couldn't they understand that?

The silence didn't register until Dane spoke.

"Angel...” He paused a moment. “I had to bury my family because of rogue monsters. It didn't feel any better when I had to bury seven people who died within minutes of each other. Now I've got three more to contend with."

"You don't know—"

"I know."

Another long pause between us gave me time to let that sink in. Dane didn't consider this a rescue mission anymore. We would be lucky if it were a body-retrieval. Did he tell the others this? Highly doubtful. They needed a driving force—anything—to keep them focused on the job at hand. Dwelling on the past would only make our mission ten times harder.

I couldn't stop the mounting tears from falling even if I tried. All I could think about was Matt being number eleven on that list.

Dane had a right to know who was behind the bounty on my husband's head, but that would only open up another can of worms. No one in my family knew about what had happened to us in Boston. Matt and I agreed to keep it that way. At the rate this was going, just call me Ms. Skeletons-In-The-Closet.

"Lex,” Dane said, softly, “we can't do this without you. Either we're all going or no one's going. I expect there to be losses, but I'll be damned before ours outnumber the enemy's again."

This time I found it hard to speak, though I managed a whisper. “Count me in."