Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

says—the result of a bargain with the fae who were not any happier with the Anglo-Saxons than the native humans were. Arthur is right that Excalibur wasn’t the only weapon. There was a spear and a dagger, too.”
    For a few blocks Anna was silent. Then she said in a markedly weaker voice, “Your father is old enough that he knew Arthur?”
    He hadn’t seen any evidence of heavy bleeding, but maybe he hadn’t checked thoroughly enough. He put his foot down harder on the gas pedal. “You ask him that, maybe he’ll answer you. He never did me.”
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    ALAN and a couple of people he didn’t know were waiting for him outside as he drove into the driveway of Arthur’s house. As soon as Charles got out of the van, he realized that the strangers weren’t from Angus’s pack.
    â€œVampires,” he said.
    â€œTo take care of the mess,” Alan explained. “Where’s Anna?”
    Charles opened the sliding door that still worked. Alan stuck his head in.
    â€œHey, Alan,” Anna said.
    â€œGot yourself shot,” he said after a thorough look.
    â€œOops.”
    He laughed. “You’ll do.” He backed away, and said, “Bring her inside, and we’ll get that stuff out of her.
    Charles picked her up as carefully as he could. Alan held the front door open, and Charles brushed past him and stopped.
    Arthur stood between him and the rest of the house. He looked horrible—his eyes hollow and his skin tone various shades of gray.
    Any other time, Charles would have played the games necessary for an outside dominant coming into another’s territory, but Anna was bleeding in his arms.
    â€œWhere do you want me to put her?” he said, which was as much of a concession as he was capable of making.
    â€œCome.” Arthur’s voice was tired and strained, but not unwelcoming. Maybe Charles had misread his body language.
    He turned and led the way. “There’s a spare bedroom back here. Upstairs might be safer, but Sunny . . . Sunny’s in the one upstairs.”
    The guest room smelled like Alan Choo, who’d evidently been sleeping here tonight. Arthur pulled the covers back farther so Charles could set Anna down.
    â€œAngus said it was the vampires?” Arthur said.
    Remembering that Arthur had a right to know, Charles explained briefly. He pulled the blankets up over her until only the wounds on her shoulder were exposed.
    â€œPity that one got away,” Arthur said.
    â€œIvan,” Anna told them. He’d thought Anna was unconscious, she’d been so still. “Ivan is his name.”
    Charles looked away from Anna for a moment, then looked at Arthur. “He can run, but I will find him.”
    Arthur veiled his eyes with his lashes instead of dropping his gaze, but Charles didn’t care. “Yes. Tell me when you get him.”
    â€œI will.”
    â€œYou think they are hired guns,” Arthur looked out the window into the darkness before dawn. “Did you find out who they were working for—or why they killed my Sunny?”
    â€œNo. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss things,” Charles said. “Maybe Anna—”
    â€œNo,” Anna murmured. “It wasn’t a local werewolf. Not Angus or his pack. Or”—she glanced at Arthur and didn’t mention Dana’s name—“anyone else here. Someone out of the country. They wanted to fly me overseas.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense,” said Alan, coming into the room with a tray that held various surgical implements. “Killing Sunny, trying to kidnap Anna, killing Chastel. There’s no pattern.”
    â€œIt makes sense to someone,” said Arthur. “If there’s nothing more I can do?”
    â€œNo,” said Charles. Having Arthur in the room with Anna wounded was trying his patience. “Thank you.”
    Arthur gave him a faint smile. “Call me if you need anything.”
    And he left them to themselves.
    â€œI have morphine,” Alan told Anna. “But wolves have different reactions to it. Some it doesn’t help at all. For some it is worse than useless, doesn’t stop the pain and doesn’t let them brace for it either.”
    â€œNo morphine,” Anna said. “Just get them out.”
    Alan looked up at Charles.
    â€œI’ll hold her for you,” he said, sliding in behind Anna so that her upper body was