From the dent in the bedspread, Charles could tell the brown wolf who was Tom had been settled in front of his witch, but the invasion of other wolves had sent him to his feet. One of his front legs was visibly crooked and must be hurting-but that didn't keep him down.
Charles closed his hands on Anna's shoulders before she could get between Angus and Tom, and he brought her back against him. "No," he told her. "It's all right. Angus has this in hand."
There were Alphas he might be worried about, but Angus had been an Alpha for a long time, and he knew what he was seeing: a wolf protecting his mate from an unknown threat. Not defiance.
In a cool voice that held more than a little command, Angus said, "Tom. No harm to yours. No harm." Angus might not be a big man, but his voice, when he chose to use it, was powerful enough to raise the dead.
The wolf's lips curled away from impressive fangs and growled again.
"Down," Angus said, putting serious energy into the word.
And the wolf sank instantly to his belly, his breathing harsh as he dealt with his unwillingness to allow others around his mate when he was injured while meeting his Alpha's demand for obedience.
"Tom?" The witch sounded lost, and Charles wondered what she thought was going on. Damnable to be helplessly blind in a world of monsters.
"He's all right," Anna told her. "Just protective of you. He knows you can't protect yourself right now-and he hasn't had time to gather himself together from that rough change yet. He's hurt and not thinking right. Everyone is going to give him just a minute to calm down."
Slick, he thought with a secret smile. Anna slid that information to Angus as if she were just talking to Moira, so he wouldn't think she was trying to tell him what to do. Then she'd spoiled it all by ordering everyone, Charles included, to leave Tom alone. The white flash of Angus's teeth told him that he'd caught it, too, and had chosen to be amused.
"We'll just do that," Angus said, settling himself on the arm of the chair nearest to the window. "Alan called while I was in the hallway. He's about five minutes out. While we're waiting for him and for Tom, why doesn't someone enlighten me as to what damaged my wolf?"
"Vampires," said Anna. "Six of them-and they hunted like a pack." She glanced at Charles.
"You mean as if they'd hunted together before," he said. Charles knew his calm facade was in place because her nod was matter-of-fact.
"Exactly," she said. "They didn't get in each other's way, not even when five of them ganged up on Tom after they'd knocked Moira over. They were in a basement apartment stairwell and hidden behind a shadows spell. It smelled like wolf magic to me-unless the vampires have access to the same thing. If Moira hadn't brought the sun in, we'd be dead."
Five on one was difficult to manage, especially with a cunning old wolf like Tom, who knew how to maximize others' weaknesses. And a shadows spell... Anna was right, that sounded like a hunting pack-except they were dealing with vampires.
"There are vampiric spells that could mimic one of ours," said Angus. "Tom's old enough to tell the difference. When he can think again, we can ask. That's what made you think that they were sent by a wolf?"
Anna nodded, but Moira said, "Vampires don't lightly take on the wolves, not in this city, anyway. They were trying to kidnap Anna-and what would a vampire want with Charles's mate?"
Angus smiled coldly. The wolves in Seattle had held the upper hand for decades. "If the vampire seethe here found themselves holding Charles's mate, they'd escort her back with armed guards and polish her fingernails before they delivered her to me without a hair on her head out of place. I'll certainly call their Master, but I suspect they are interlopers. He should know about them-and if so, maybe he'll have some names for me."
"One of them was a woman who wore a size six shoe," Charles said. "But I don't think she'll be a problem to anyone again."
Moira's part in the story bothered him. She'd saved Anna-but... He frowned at her. "Witch, I've never heard of a white witch who could call sunlight. That's not even something witchcraft should be able to call-witches know mind and body, not the elements."
"I didn't call sunlight," she snapped, responding to his tone of voice, he thought, rather than his words. "Just made the vampire's bodies believe in it-even the dead bodies." She wiggled her fingers. "Sssst, and they were dust or running away."
"That's a lot of magic. Vampires have some resistance-and then you made your trail disappear for the better part of a mile."
"She's a white witch," snapped Angus.
Moira grinned fiercely. "I'm a mutant, all right. Poor little blind white witch..."
"Sacrifice," said Charles slowly, "is the power that witches pull from. Mostly it is the loss of other people's blood and flesh-but rumor has it that one of the reasons witches have familiars is that they can use them as a higher sacrifice-not just the animal's death but the death of something the witch holds dear."
"You think I kill kitties to power my spells?" Her voice was nasty, and despite the nagging suspicion that all wasn't as it should be, Brother Wolf approved of her.
He couldn't let it be, not with Anna's safety to worry about, but Brother Wolf's approbation gave him pause. There might be a different answer. "I've always heard that self-sacrifice-as when the witch uses her own blood to fuel a spell-has some power, but it's difficult to work with."
The witch pulled down her glasses and he saw his guess had been correct. One eye had been blasted by magic. He'd seen similar results before, and it wasn't something he'd forget soon. Her eye was stained white and shriveled, as if something had sucked it dry. The damage had happened a long time ago because no scent of it clung to her-and when that had happened, she would have reeked of magic for quite a while. The other eye had been destroyed more mundanely, though just as painfully-and likely just as long ago.