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A white van had just pulled in and stopped across the exit.

Silas stood.

"Up," he said quietly.

He took my arm and brought me to my feet with him.

The Council’s men made their move on the second level of the parking garage, where the escorts had left their car. The place was nearly empty, all gray concrete and fluorescent light, with rain beating against the open ramps and water running in thin streams toward the drains. No one else was around, which had clearly been the point.

There were four men waiting for us now. The two escorts from the café had been joined by two more from the white van, both broad-shouldered and grim-faced in matching gray suits.

One of them held what I first thought was a pistol.

Then I saw the thick glass dart loaded into the barrel, and my stomach tightened.

"By order of the Council," the tall escort said calmly, "the girl comes with us. Nobody needs to be hurt, Vance. Your father wouldn’t want to hurt you or your friends."

Kaelen looked at him.

Then his hands changed.

I had never seen a partial shift at such close range before. His fingers lengthened as I watched, the bones and joints changing shape beneath the skin. His nails darkened, thickened, and curved into black claws. Gold flooded his eyes, and the sound that came from deep in his chest was low enough that I felt the vibration through the concrete beneath my feet.

Beside me, Jax laughed.

It was a bright, almost delighted sound. His eyes turned gold too, and when he smiled, his teeth were suddenly much too long and far too sharp.

Silas said nothing. He simply stepped in front of me and planted himself there.

The man with the dart gun raised it.

Everything happened at once after that.

Jax moved first, dropping low and driving into the gunman's legs before he could fire. The man went down hard, and the weapon flew from his hand, skidding across the wet concrete until it disappeared beneath a parked car.

Kaelen collided with the tall escort a second later. They went at each other with fists and claws, boots slipping on the damp floor as they fought for leverage.

Silas caught one of the men from the van by the collar and lifted him clear off the ground with one hand.

The fourth man had been left alone.

He shifted suddenly, fur tearing across his body in coarse brown patches as his shape compressed and broadened. A wolverine emerged from the transformation, low to the ground and heavily built, with its lips pulled back from a mouth full of teeth.

It was terrified.

I could see that immediately.

Its eyes were wide enough to show white, and its head swung wildly from side to side as it snapped at anything that came near. I felt bad for him. Then it saw Silas's exposed back and lunged.

I moved before I had time to decide whether it was a terrible idea.

I stepped between them.

"Hey," I said. "Hey. You're all right."

The wolverine stopped.

“You don’t need to do this. It’s all okay.”