“He got in my face and started jabbing a finger into my chest. “Then we don’t want your help, if this is what it looks like. First you bring a human among us, and now this? I don’t like your kind, and I’m not the only one. They can’t be trusted. You can’t be trusted.” He drew the last word out, practically hissing it. That’s our Eric. What a charmer. Ladies, try not to swoon.”

“Hi, my name is Ashley, and I’ll be your Harbinger today. I will be acting as an interim instructor for all your necromancy needs.” She flashed her best stewardess smile and gave a little Vanna wave.“Ashley, as delighted as I am to meet you, don’t you think it might be hard to teach me? I’m in a cage that you can’t get into. Oh, and—” I grabbed the bars with both hands, “I’m a little distracted right now by the fact that I’m being held by a psychotic killer.”Ashley cocked a single eyebrow, a look of mild amusement on her face. “Geez,” she said, looking at Brid. “Is he always this big of a drama queen?”

“Are we going where I think we are?” he asked.“Hell, yeah,” I told him, turning the key in the ignition. I steered the car toward the highway that would take us to my mother’s house. “And I hope she’s got a few good answers.”“I hope,” Ramon said, “that she’s made cookies.”I glared at him.“Don’t look at me like that. If we were going to interrogate my poor mother for whatever, you’d be secretly hoping she’d made you tamales. I’m just honest enough to admit it.”

“There were upsides to the whole mess. While Douglas was holding me hostage, I’d met a girl—I mean, screw dating websites and house parties; apparently all the really eligible ladies are being held in cages these days. I would have liked to see Brid fill out a dating questionnaire, though. What would she put? “Hi, my name is Bridin Blackthorn. I’m next in line to rule the local werewolf pack. I like long walks on the beach and destroying my enemies. I have four older brothers, so watch your step. We’ll be forming a queue to the left for potential suitors.”And, trust me, there would be a queue.”

“You want waffles?” I tried to keep the skepticism from my voice. “No firstborn or a pot of gold?”“I’m not a leprechaun, Sam. And what would I do with a baby?” Her eyebrow shot back up, and she crossed her arms. “I want waffles. Take it or leave it.”I glanced at Brid, who was staring at Ashley shrewdly.“Let’s talk numbers,” she said. “Are we talking, like, twenty waffles all at once? Or a waffle a week for six months? What?”“Every day for two years,” Ashley said.“That’s outrageous,” Brid sputtered.”

“You are quite possibly the least smooth guy I know,” she mumbled. “You can’t even put your arm around me without tripping up.”

“I know you're frustrated, Sam, but the reality is you're in a world now where the majority of the people you run into will be able to snap you like a twig.""My world was like that before.”