Her grip on the cell phone tightened, knuckles turning white. Twisting, she scanned the area around her but saw no sign of hunters. Surprisingly, she caught a glimpse of the Rottweiler peering at her from the far end of the alley. The dog had defied her command and followed her.

"I know this is your number." Jake's tone conveyed strength and authority.

He sounded so damn much like Victoria's own father that it hurt to hear. She struggled to wrap her dry mouth and tight throat around words. "Is Rand still alive, Barrett?"

"Rand knocked around a couple of my men. Didn't kill anyone. I know him well enough to know he could've." His intonation remained perfectly cool and reasonable. "He took a shotgun blast to the chest. Unfortunately, he took off in a pickup before I got there."

Victoria released a held breath, dissipating awful internal pressure. It went without saying the hunters hadn't been using silver slugs or Rand wouldn't have survived a direct hit. Let alone escaped.

"Why would he attack your men?" Victoria asked even though she instantly supplied her own answer. Jasper. Rand must've been defending the teenager.

"That's the crux," Jake said. "I've got your boy."

Fear impaled her heart. Victoria sank to a crouch, kneeling on the wet pavement while her wolf fought to drag her through a full shift. Thunder filled her ears, and she thought the storm had returned until she realized the sound was a growl rumbling deep in her chest.

They spoke simultaneously.

"Barrett, where is Jasper? So help me, if you've hurt him—"

"The boy is unharmed. As long as you do what I say, he'll be fine."

Her grip threatened to crush the phone. Fumbling thanks to her claws, she wedged the phone between her shoulder and jaw. "So, the mighty Hunter King has sunk to taking children hostage?"

Jake's voice thickened with irritation, the first crack thus far in his impenetrable veneer. "I didn't go after the boy. We caught him shadowing us."

"What do you think Daniel would think of you right now?" The snarl never wholly left her throat, so the demand reverberated.

"Don't you dare speak my son's name, bitch." His control cracked, betraying smoldering fury.

"I'll tell you, he wouldn't think very highly of you." She ignored his warning. Taunting the man wasn't the smartest thing. Her fear for Jasper drove her to recklessness.

Grinding teeth, a noise like stone on stone, crossed the phone line. He exhaled, and her imagination supplied the image of broad flared nostrils breathing fire. When he spoke, his tone was smooth once again. "My son is dead. Someone has to be held accountable. I expect you to surrender yourself. Once you have, I'll let the boy go."

Fuck. The man terrified her. No matter what Jake Barrett did to her, it couldn't be worse than the suffocating guilt she lived with every day. The weight of her own culpability in Daniel's death crushed her, a feeling verging on self-hatred. Too many people on both sides had already died because of her failure. She would do anything to protect the final surviving members of her pack, including sacrifice herself. Perhaps it was fitting that Jake Barrett should be her judge, jury, and executioner.

"Fine. I'll surrender to you," she said. "I want your word that Jasper and my pack go free without any further retaliation."

"Agreed." A hesitation ensued.

She thought her ready agreement had surprised him. She stepped into the silence before he could continue. "We have another problem."

Jake's volume shot up a couple telling notches. "We do, do we?"

"The monster you're hunting is here."

His voice hardened with suspicion. "What makes you think I'm after anyone other than you?"

The bones in Victoria's hands crunched as she forced her claws to retract. She gnashed her teeth in irritation. "On the street you were surprised to see me."

"Maybe I was surprised you made it so easy."

"Maybe," she shot back. "Maybe you're not interested in killing the murdering bastard. Oh, he's got three little children in cages. No reason that should concern–"

"It's not smart to keep needling me, Victoria."

Victoria's phone lit up with an incoming call from Sylvie. "I've got another call I have to take."

"Don't you dare–"

With a smirk of satisfaction, she put him on hold and accepted the other call. "Hello?"

"Rand's been shot," Sylvie said without preamble. "He got away, but the hunters have Jasper."

"I know." Victoria composed her voice to offer reassurance. "I've got Jake Barrett on the other line."

Sylvie fell into stunned silence. A full thirty seconds passed before she said, "You put Jake Barrett on hold?"

"What's he gonna do? Kill me twice?"

"No. He may take his frustration out on you before he does."

Victoria flinched. Sylvie's stinging reminder punctured her bravado and deflated her ego. Her head dipped in shame. The Skald had the right of it. She'd foolishly allowed wrath and pride to get the better of her. She exhaled. "I'm sorry. You're right. Let's make this quick. Is Rand going to be all right?"

"Yes, he's badly hurt, but he'll recover. It'll be hours before he's recovered enough to be of use to you."

"Where are you now?"

"A few miles north of that tire recycling facility."

"I thought you and Paul were supposed to have left town," Victoria said, her tone heavy with irony. "What happened?"

Sylvie's voice lilted. "We stopped for gas."

Despite the direness of the situation, Victoria laughed. "Take everyone and head to Santa Fe. This time, please, do what I ask."

"What about you and Jasper?"

"I'll take care of it."

Sylvie hesitated. "How?"

"Sylvie, please, trust me," Victoria pleaded. She didn't have time to argue or explain. Her newfound leadership style entailed indulging her people's questions. She ran her pack as a democracy with an elected president rather than the autocratic dictatorship of a larger war band.

"Of course, sweetie. Call soon so we don't have to worry."

"Thank you," Victoria said in heartfelt relief and gratitude.

"No, thank you."

They said their goodbyes and concluded the call. Victoria switched back to Jake. The first sound she heard was the rasp of his breath on the line. His impatience and frustration coalesced as a palpable force.

"Let's stop playing games, Barrett," she said. "Are you hunting the child thief or not? I know where it is. It's got three young children in cages. If you're not going to help me kill it, then say so."

Silence ensued. Victoria imagined those thick gray Barrett eyebrows knit into a scowl of consternation. She smirked. The man had devoted his life to hunting and destroying the monsters that preyed on innocents. There was no way he would walk away from this fight.

"Yeah," Jake rumbled. "A friend of mine brought the matter to my attention. It's why I'm here. We've been looking for it for a few days without any solid leads."

"It's enshrouded in some sort of magic," Victoria said. "That makes it difficult to locate." Her supposition was conjecture, but the facts thus far supported the conclusion.

"How'd you manage to locate it then?"

"Deductive reasoning and a keen nose.”

He snorted softly. "How did you get pulled into all this?"

"My goddess sent me."

"Of course she did."

The amusement in his voice irritated the crap out of her. Unaccountably, tears welled in her eyes, and her voice cracked. "The first little girl the beast took, her name was Margaret. It murdered her parents, shoved her into a filthy sack, and drowned her in a drum of ink."

Jake growled. The sound was indistinguishable from a wolf's, and if she hadn't known better, she'd have assumed him to be one of her people.

Her anger burned so hot her wolf was about to burst through her self-control. "It murdered her for what?" she asked. "The poor girl was innocent."

"Have you seen it?" He bit the words short.

Victoria drew a deep breath and described the goat-creature to him, going into great detail. His knowledge of the occult was far superior to hers. Her father had once called Jake Barrett a walking, talking encyclopedia of the arcane and obscure.

He cut her off mid-description. "Sounds like a krampus."

"A what? Never heard of it." She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. Her mind was so deep inside the conversation her awareness of the external world faded.

"It's an Old World devil," Jake said, adopting a brisk manner, devoid of animosity or any hint of the bad blood between them. The man possessed an amazing ability to compartmentalize. "Originally from Germany and Austria, but its kind has spread throughout Europe. It's a child thief. It steals children who have been naughty and then punishes them. It feeds on guilt. I've never heard of one in North America before."

"Do you mean 'devil' literally or is that a figure of speech?" Victoria adjusted her stance, flexing her knees to stop them from cramping.

"It's complicated."

She scowled. His evasion sounded like a total... hedge. They'd attained a degree of concordance though, a certain unity of purpose she was loath to disrupt. Besides, what ultimately mattered wasn't what it was, but rather how to destroy it.

"Does it have any weaknesses?"

"Not like your people do to silver."

She winced at the pointed reminder. "How do I kill it?"

"Tell me where you are," Jake said. "I'll kill it."

His vicious conviction sent chills coursing along her spine. She absolutely believed that he'd do as he said. The man had a reputation as a ruthless killer who possessed powerful magic. He demolished any and all obstacles in his path. He never failed.

She gave him the address.

"Wait until I get there," Jake said in an unmistakably autocratic tone.

Her brow drew together. Under the best of circumstance, Victoria disliked being told what to do. Being ordered about by her enemy didn't sit well. "I'll think about it–"

Loud barking erupted from the far side of the alley. Startled, Victoria looked toward the sound and lowered the phone. The Rottweiler stood at the end of the building. His posture bristled with aggression.

"What's wrong, boy?"

"What's happening?" Jake asked.

She took a breath and caught the musky scent of goat. Her panic spiked as cloven hooves clattered on the pavement behind her. Snarling, she twisted and looked up in time to see a huge fist launching straight at her.

The krampus walloped her face. The bones in her nose crunched like crushed potato chips, detonating pain inside her skull. The blow knocked her over, and the phone went flying. She crashed to the ground and landed in a heap on the pavement.

Head swimming, she rolled and attempted to stand. The whole world tilted at a crazy angle, and she followed it sideways. Hooves clomped toward her. Vision blurred, she stumbled, walking on the side of her feet.

The Rottweiler's furious barking rushed closer. He growled. A heavy thud, and then the dog released a high-pitched, piteous yelp. He made no further sounds.

"No." Victoria's heart wrenched for the poor dog. A sorrowful moan tore from her throat. Why hadn't he obeyed her?

Clomping again, moving closer. Scrambling, she shook her head. Her sight cleared enough for her to make out the beast's enormous form which loomed over her. A growl rumbled in her throat. She swung but missed, so her fist whizzed through empty air.

The krampus swooped in closer. His fist slammed into the side of her head.

The world went black.