Chapter One "It will work, I'm telling you," the man said to his companion. "We've worked on it for years. It's ready." The man's voice was deep and he spoke quietly. He didn't want to be overheard by the wrong people. Although he didn't think those people would be in this café, it paid to be careful. "I'll tell them," said his companion. "They're still skeptical. They'll want proof." This man's voice was more nasal than the first's, and he didn't seem terribly concerned about any eavesdroppers. "Take this." The first man passed over a flat package. "A live demonstration can be arranged but will take some time. They should be satisfied with this." The second man slid the package off the table and into his coat pocket. He was unobtrusive, but Angela saw him out of the corner of her eye. It didn't appear either man had noticed her. The second man quietly sipped at his coffee for a moment, mulling over what he might say next. Angela held her breath. She didn't know why this had all caught her attention; she'd only come in for coffee. However, her intuition said there was something just not right here. The second man spoke. "So, you think you've developed an inhibitor?" "I don't think it, I know it," said the first man firmly, draining his own cup. "The original test is still in effect and working, and we've improved it since then. The Mecroix have their chance now. Not only do we have the inhibitor, we have the vaccine and the antidote. The proof is in there." The Mecroix? Good God, Angela thought. I have to talk to my father. I can only hope he'll listen. * * * * Three days later, Angela Mayall sat apprehensively at a table in another café some blocks from the one where she'd overheard the conversation. She sipped at her drink, tasting nothing, as she waited for her father to arrive. She nearly hadn't called him, but her roommate had insisted. Kori was the only one who knew Angela's secret, and although Kori was not like Angela, she could understand the danger of one group threatening another. "He has to know, Angie," Kori had told her. "Even if he doesn't come, he'll send someone and you can at least get word to him." Her father, Damon Griet, was on his way. No doubt annoyed, she was sure, but on his way. She hadn't seen him in over four years. What would happen, she wondered. "Angela." Her father's baritone voice intruded on her thoughts and she looked up with a jerk. He looked little different from the last time she'd seen him. A few more grey hairs, although the dark brown was still dark, and perhaps a few more wrinkles, but she couldn't be sure. She felt a small lump in her throat, and realized how much she'd missed her family, despite the agreement that she should leave. No time for tears now, though, she told herself. Crying would make her look hysterical and she'd lose any credibility she might have. "Hi, Dad," she said. "I, um, I got you a coffee, wasn't sure if you wanted it." She gestured at the other cup on the table. "Thank you." He sat down, staring at his daughter. He had missed her as well, although he refused to think about it. She had had to leave, for the good of the pack. He was the leader. He couldn't make an exception, even if she did look so much like her mother, with her black hair and blue eyes. "What did you want to tell me?" So much for small talk and catching up, Angela thought. She took a deep breath and told him what she'd overheard at the other restaurant. "I don't know who they were," she said. "But they definitely said Mecroix." Damon mulled her words over, drumming his hands on the coffee cup but not drinking any. There wasn't much to go on here, but Angela's news wasn't something he could ignore. Just how to investigate it he wasn't sure yet, but he would think about it, discuss it with his wife and his advisors, and then move. "Why did you tell me?" he asked. "What do you mean?" Angela was puzzled. "Why did you tell me?" he repeated. "You didn't have to. You could have let it go. Pack issues aren't your concern any more." Angela felt the hurt invade her. "Not my concern? Since when is helping my own family not my concern?" Tears pressed at her eyes but she held them back. "It wasn't my idea to leave. I agreed, but it wasn't my idea. It doesn't mean I don't care about you or the pack. I'm trying to help." "Can you describe these men?" Damon steered the conversation back to the original track. Angela shrugged. "I'm pretty sure they were human. The first man seemed to be sort of a contractor, the second one probably worked for the Mecroix directly. They were to one side of me, so I couldn't get a good look. I didn't want them to notice me, so I tried not to look directly at them." "Did you pick up a scent?" he asked, dropping his voice. "I couldn't," she said, ashamed. "There were too many other people, and they had long coats on over their suits, and it was raining." If I had my full senses...she thought, then shook her head. No point in dwelling on what she didn't have. "I'll look into it," He stood and stared at his daughter. "Thank you." He left. Angela sat for a while more, then got up to leave herself. She had to get home, or she'd be crying in front of strangers. Her father had to do something, she thought to herself, as she walked quickly home, ignoring the cold rain. He couldn't let something like this happen. She wasn't sure what the "inhibitor" was, but it couldn't be anything good. * * * * "What did he say?" Kori asked anxiously as soon as Angela walked in. "He'll look into it," Angela said. "There isn't much else he can do. I couldn't give him much to go on." "But that's good," Kori said, with some relief. "Isn't it? You always said your dad could track down anyone or anything." Kori Blandings was a natural, cheerful optimist, but not a bubble-head, else Angela would never have been able to stand her. Kori was almost the opposite of Angela, although she also had black hair. She was a few inches shorter than Angela's five foot eight, with curly hair, and her eyes were a happy green - Angela had never been able to describe them any other way. Kori always seemed to light up when a friend arrived. She made everyone feel special, or at least liked, and Angela couldn't wait for the time when a man realized what a catch Kori was. Kori was outgoing where Angela was reserved, quick to laugh where Angela might barely smile. "It would have helped if I could have given him something more than 'two guys talking,'" Angela said with a sigh, dropping to the couch. "I mean, Kori - this could be devastating. I'm neurotic or whatever, I know that. My problem is psychological. But this is physical and if they do have a vaccine and an antidote, they could hold lives in their hands. My God, we could be looking at mass murder, and no one would know." "Look, you don't know anything like that," Kori soothed. "Don't worry about things you don't know. Nothing was mentioned about this being fatal. You're not even sure what it is." Angela hadn't meant to tell Kori so much, but when she had come home after hearing the men talk, it had all come out. That added to Angela's concerns - she didn't want Kori to be in danger. So far, there was no indication that anyone on the Mecroix side, as she had begun to think of it, knew she had overheard anything. So for now, at least, she and Kori should be safe. Plus Kori was a witch, a strong one, and could defend herself well. "You know, there's an office shindig in a couple of weeks," Kori said, hoping to take Angela's mind off the situation, at least for a while. "We'll both have to go." "I know," Angela groaned. "I hate going to those things." "Well, we'll be there together," said Kori, patting her hand, "so it won't be so bad." Angela couldn't help but smile as Kori tried once more to see the bright side. "Who knows, maybe some new blood will show up from the branch offices. Or maybe a couple of senior board members will get drunk again. Remember the Christmas party?" Angela snickered. She did indeed. That was why this event was being held in a hotel ballroom, and not the office itself. * * * * Damon Griet stepped into his office but didn't notice his surroundings. He was too busy reviewing what his daughter had told him. The Mecroix, a rival pack, were apparently working towards something. An "inhibitor." What did it do? What was it for? He wandered over to his desk and sat down, staring out the window. "Where have you been?" His wife's voice came from the doorway. He turned to look at her and smiled. They'd been mated for many, many years but in his eyes she was still as beautiful as the day they'd met. "I had to go to a meeting," he said. Evasive, but true. Larissa Griet studied her husband. His hair had a little gray in it, but it lent him a distinguished air. He looked distracted, she thought. He was drumming his fingers on his desk, a tell-tale sign that something was puzzling him. "Who did you meet with?" she asked, taking a seat in a chair by the desk. "Someone in the city," he said vaguely. "I don't see her often, but she had a piece of information she thought I'd be interested in." "Were you?" Larissa knew he was holding something back. "I think so," he said. "I'd like to meet with you, Thomas, and a few others. I'll tell you all at once and then we can decide what we should do, if anything." He retreated back into silence, and Larissa remained in her seat, quiet as well. "When would you like to meet?" Larissa's voice broke into his thoughts. "As soon as possible. After dinner, if we can arrange it." He would have to tell Larissa that he'd seen Angela, but he wanted to delay it as long as possible. Angela's exile was the only sore spot in their relationship. It would not be an easy discussion. "I'll make the arrangements," she said. "Thank you." Damon spared her a smile, then turned to the papers on his desk and switched on the computer monitor. Larissa came over and kissed him on the forehead before leaving. Later that evening Damon and Larissa reconvened in his study with Thomas Ligeret, Damon's second, and five other ranking pack members. After greetings had been exchanged and everyone was seated, Damon got to the point. "I met with a... friend today in the city," he began. Thomas noticed the slight hesitation before the word "friend" but let it pass without comment. "She had some disturbing news," Damon continued. "There's no proof, but this person wouldn't have contacted me on a whim. So I want to tell you what I've learned and then get your opinions on how to proceed." He noticed Larissa's eyes narrow slightly, and wondered if she had already deduced that he'd spoken to Angela. "We're listening," Thomas said. Larissa and the others nodded. Damon considered for a moment before going on. "It seems our friends, the Mecroix, are upping the stakes in their efforts to secure power and territory." Expressions of concern settled on his advisors' faces as they wondered what that could mean. Damon went on to tell what he knew of the "inhibitor," leaving Angela's name out of it. "So," he said. "Any opinions?" "Is it biological?" asked Phoebe Dawson, one of the other five. Damon shrugged. "It certainly sounds likely, but the conversation was quick and the men didn't say. I have a hard time believing it's anything else." He had mulled that over since meeting with his daughter and could come to no other conclusion. "Was there any kind of timetable mentioned?" asked Thomas. "No," said Damon. "Making a guess, this may be the final step before a timetable is set out. They were apparently going to review some kind of report. Could have been test results or something like that." The conversation continued in that vein, raising more questions than could be answered. "We need more information, I think that's clear," Thomas said. "The question is how to get it. I doubt Carlton Mecroix is going to just sit down for a Q and A session." There were a few chuckles. "I'll leave that to you, Thomas," said Damon, "Security is your purview. I'll help however I can, but I'm sure you and your staff can come up with something." "Of course, sir," said Thomas. Damon was his oldest friend, but formalities were observed for pack business. Damon ended the meeting and dismissed everyone. Larissa, however, remained behind. Damon sat and watched her as she struggled with what to say next. "Your source," she said in a low voice. "Was it Angela?" Damon couldn't lie. There was no point. They were mated and shared a telepathic bond; lying was almost impossible. Moreover, she was his wife and he had no desire to lie to her. So he simply said, "Yes." She nodded and remained silent for a time again. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, not looking at him. "I was going to, but I wanted to wait until we were alone." "You could have told me earlier." "Perhaps I should have," he allowed. "I'm sorry, Larissa. I didn't want to upset you." "Upset me?" She gave a brittle laugh. "You've only seen our eldest daughter, whom I haven't seen in six years, and you were worried you'd upset me?" "Rissa," he said quietly, but could think of nothing to say next. "We never should have made her leave, Damon." Her bright blue eyes stared straight at him. "It was wrong. Every time I think about it, I just... I die a little." Her eyes shone as tears gathered. "It wasn't easy for me either, Rissa," he said, his brown eyes darkening. "But I'm the leader, not just her father." "We abandoned her, Damon. What kind of parents were we to even think of doing it?" Larissa had thought she would eventually come to terms with Angela's departure. She had tried to talk Damon into letting her speak with Angela at least occasionally, but he had firmly said no. The Mecroix could detect no weakness in their pack, he had warned her, or they would try to destroy it. So their daughter, their oldest child, in line to take over leadership from her father, had been sent away. Exiled. The blow had been slightly softened by the fact that Angela had gone to live with a friend, but now that wasn't enough for Larissa. She wanted to see her daughter, to talk to her. When she had found out about Angela's first contact with Damon after leaving - and his reaction - she had been furious. One woman had picked that time to assert a challenge to Larissa's position of lead female. Fueled by her hurt and anger, Larissa had defeated the woman in combat in less than a minute, and the woman had spent two weeks recovering. No one had dared challenge Larissa after that. "It's difficult when you are more than a parent," Damon said softly. Larissa jerked back from her memories. "God knows, I never wanted to be in that kind of position." "We should have done more," Larissa said dully. "We did everything we could. Everything we could think of. We ran out of ideas. This was the only way to protect the pack." "What about protecting Angela?" Some fire came back into Larissa's voice. "We sent her out there alone." She shook her head as her husband was about to mention the Blandings. "We sent her from a place where she was surrounded by family and friends. There was no one for her. That was cruel, Damon. Too cruel." Damon remained silent. It was all true, and he couldn't change it. In many ways, he was surprised that he and Larissa had survived sending Angela away. They had been Pulled to each other, but that kind of strain could have easily broken a relationship, even one as strong as theirs. His relationships with his other daughters, Tina and Jura, had never been the same. He feared they hated them, though they hadn't said so. "We sent her away," said Larissa again, more calmly this time. "But she didn't forget us, did she? She contacted you about this. She's still trying to help us. And we still keep her away." Damon closed his eyes and turned back to the window. Larissa was right. The daughter they had banished had come back to help them, despite everything.