Chapter One Run. That was the only thought in his mind as he flew, almost literally, through the night. He had a jump on them, but he didn't know how much of one, and surely it was smaller than when he'd started. How could they have found him? Part of his brain puzzled over that while he blurred past houses, through parks and woods. He had left everything behind. Gone only with the clothes on his back and the money in his pocket. No credit cards. No driver's license. For God's sake, he'd even left his cell phone back there. How the hell could they have found him this quickly, when he was pretty much in the middle of Freaking Nowhere, USA? He took a chance, stopped in a shadowed alley and listened. He kept his breathing shallow, trying to hear over the sound of the blood rushing in his head. Nothing. Wait. Wait. Still nothing. Wait. A sound. Instinct was to jerk his head around to follow it, but he fought it and remained still. Focus, he told himself while willing his hearing to ever higher degrees of perception. Focus on the goal. You need to get to the new land. You're close. The sound again, like feet sliding over a light layer of gravel. Sloppy. They should be more careful. Then again, they were new to this. To all of this. That had to be to his advantage. It had to be. He remained still, standing, back to the wall. By millimeters, he turned his head just enough so that he could shift his eyes to see to the end of the alley. He saw shadows. He waited again and when the shadows were at what he thought was the right spot, he took off to the other end of the alley. Only the faint whisper of a breeze betrayed his former hiding place. No human being would have noticed. His pursuers weren't human, and they did notice. However, they were still inexperienced and the few seconds it took them to register what had happened had given him another head start. Hissing in anger, they took off again, trying to pick up his scent. He was headed away from populated areas into more wooded regions. They traded glances, nodded, and split up in their chase. With fewer people around, it should be less difficult to find him. They sped up, knowing he was faster, but knowing they had him almost within reach. * * * * This was it, he could feel it. He didn't know how or why, exactly, but there was something different about this place. Weres. He could scent them, or at least he assumed that was what he smelled. Not quite human, not completely animal; reasonable conclusion that it was weres. When he'd heard about this place, this pack, he'd left immediately. Someone had to be told. Someone who wouldn't think he was crazy, who wouldn't call the police, who would keep this away from the humans. They were still behind him, but further back. He hoped the rain would delay them; it wasn't a heavy rain but it might be enough to wash his scent away. Still, he wondered: were they waiting for him to fall? To make a mistake? He had no intention of doing either. He hissed as the pain he'd ignored began to seep into his consciousness. Before he'd been able to leave there'd been a fight. A no-holds-barred brawl that involved nails and teeth and he decided to put it out of his mind for the moment. The wounds would heal, but not without time to rest. Since he was directing all of his efforts into running there was no energy left for the healing. Soon, he told himself. Soon. A new scent forced its way to his attention. A little bit human. A lot of animal. A were, he realized with a start. There was one close by. He slowed and did his best to stay in the shadows. Luckily there were lots of trees and the clouds and light rain helped to keep things dark. Looking around, he took stock of the surroundings. Trees, yes, but houses too, he saw now. There was a small one to his right. Someone was coming. He sank back a little further, watching, brushing the damp hair out of his face. His eyes widened when he saw a tiger go to the door of the little bungalow. Now that, he thought, is way cool. He heard a sound behind him and zipped past the tiger almost before he'd realized he'd done it. The tiger must have smelled something, he realized, for it... he?...she?...stopped suddenly and looked around. He studied the tiger, remaining still as a statue. He'd never really seen a were before. A couple of wolves, from a distance, but nothing like this. It reminded him of the time, many years ago, when he'd come face to face with a bear up North. The tiger was much cooler, much more exotic, and not intent on making him dinner. The tiger apparently decided nothing was amiss and went up to the house. He nearly choked when the tiger changed into a woman. A beautiful woman, he could tell, even from this distance and in the dark. She was tall and her short black hair tapered to a point above a smooth back and long, shapely legs. Then she stepped inside, out of his vision. If he had taken in a deep breath, it would have been an effort to remember to let it out. He'd start here, with her, he decided. If he wasn't where he thought he was, he was close. Maybe she could direct him. Soft noises had him cursing and turning his head to look around. They weren't here yet, but they would be before long. He had to take his chances. Looking around to make sure no one else was there, he strode up to the door, trying not to wince as the pain once again surfaced. Steeling himself, he knocked sharply. * * * * Jura prowled the outer edges of the residential area. For six months now, she'd been a member of the Zashita pack. When Angela had asked her to come, Jura had been stunned. Still feeling guilty for what had happened at the summoning spell, she had been afraid to ask to join the new pack. It had been hard to leave her parents but like many others, she had felt the need to take an active part in all the changes. She had appointed herself as Angela's protector, although she said nothing to her sister. Jura knew she was being silly, but she couldn't help it. If something was going to threaten her sister, or her new pack, she wanted to be the first to know. Tonight, however, everything seemed quiet. It was dark; clouds covered the sky and a misting rain was falling. Realizing she'd gone around her self-devised route twice, and tired of being wet, she decided to go home. Home, she thought happily, as she padded back to the little bungalow that she'd taken for herself. It was a novel experience, living on her own. She hadn't had the opportunity to do so before. Nor, she realized, the desire. Being the daughter of the pack leader, she had taken things for granted. Despite that, she was enjoying her new independence. Although perhaps not so much when she would realize the kitchen was empty and she was the one who had to restock it. Reaching her door, she raised her head and sniffed slowly. There was an odd scent in the air. Something heavy with. blood. She cocked her head and turned around, searching the grounds around her house as carefully as she could. There was nothing. She turned back to the house, then jerked around when she felt a sudden breeze. Growling, teeth bared, she took a few steps away from the house. Something hovered at the edge of her senses. A slight movement. that smell again, tinged so much with the slightly metallic edge of blood. She didn't feel threatened-yet-but she was taking no chances. After standing for several minutes and finding nothing except the scent, which was beginning to fade, Jura went to her door. She shifted and stepped inside as quickly as she could, then let her tiger out again. The scent wasn't in the house, she realized. Whatever it was, it had remained outside. Returning to human form, she stretched and threw on the jeans and t-shirt she'd been wearing earlier. While she debated whether to call Angela and Aidan, there was a knock at her door. Eyes narrowed, she checked through the side window. There was a man, a few inches taller than herself, standing outside. She opened the door slightly. "Who are you?" "Is this the Zashita pack land?" the man asked. He was breathing heavily, as though he'd been running. Jura tilted her head as she caught his scent. He wasn't human, and he wasn't were. Nor, based on her recent acquaintance with Kori, did he appear to be a witch. Then she realized she could smell the blood again. He watched her study him and wondered if she knew what he was. "It is," she answered after a moment, "and now you can leave." She started to shut the door. "Wait," he said. She did, and looked at him expectantly. "You take anyone, right? Witch, were, whatever?" "Are you a whatever?" Jura asked, arching an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" He threw a glance over his shoulder, then looked back at her. They were closer, he could feel it. "Please, may I come in? I really need to get inside." "If you're so anxious, why didn't you just come in when I opened the door?" He rolled his eyes and nearly bit his tongue in frustration. Did he really have to deal with this? Out of all the legends, why did this particular thing have to be true? "I'm very polite," he said with more than a little sarcasm. "My mother raised me not to barge into people's houses. Now, may I come in?" Leery about his scent, but equally reluctant to leave a possible threat loose on pack land, Jura gave in. "All right." She stepped back and opened the door, but he continued standing there. Almost, he thought, willing her to say the words. Go on, go on... She sighed. "You can come in." "Thanks." He walked into the living room, then turned around to watch her shut the door. Once it was closed, he gave in to the pain and sank to the floor. "What happened to you?" She had half expected him to attack, but it didn't look like he was in any shape to do much of anything. "You should see the other guys." It was true; they weren't in great shape either. They just didn't know enough to realize it yet. "Well, come on," she said, putting an arm under his and yanking him upright. He stumbled, surprised at her strength. "Don't bleed all over my rugs. Get in the bathroom, we'll clean you up." "Great. Thanks." She led him into the small bathroom and helped him get his shirt off. An added bonus, he thought. "Good Lord," she said, "what did you do, roll over barbed wire?" She stared at the small but vicious cuts that were all over his arms and torso. "No, that was next on the list." he said as he splashed water on his face. "Are these teeth marks? Did someone bite you?" His torso, back and front, as well as his arms, were riddled with what appeared to be bite marks. There looked to be claw marks as well. "I got into a fight," he said shortly. He took the washcloth she offered him and ran it under the water. When it was wet, he held it to his face, almost sighing at the comfort of the warm water. A bath would be nice, he thought as he rinsed the rag again. A nice hot bath in a big tub, and her next to me and. He mentally smacked himself; this was no time for his thoughts to run in that particular direction. "With what?" she asked. "An army of rats?" She leaned against the door frame, waiting for answers. They didn't come. "Look," he said, resting his hands on the sink and turning to look at her. She almost jumped at the intensity of his gaze, then cursed herself for it. This is my place! I won't let him intimidate me. "I've had a rough night-rough couple of days, really. Let me clean up and I'll explain everything." Jura nodded and turned to go. "Thank you," he said quietly. "And listen, there's one thing I need to tell you." "What's that?" she said, turning to look at him. He looked up and held her gray eyes with his dark ones. "If anyone else comes along, don't invite them in."