Not for the first time, Kallie wished she could lay down a protection trick. But Belladonna was right-she saw the soft and steady glow of faraway light, like a lamp illuminating a window, through swaying branches. Hope curled through her. Maybe it was Jackson's fairy-fable Le Nique.

From within the wooded darkness looming beside them, a twig snapped with a sharp crack. A very deliberate sound. Layne stopped and swiveled in one fluid motion, swinging the Glock up in a two-handed grip.

Then, as lightning blazed across the sky, the demon wolf made its move.

So did Layne.

He squeezed off two rounds just as the dark, wolfish shape bulleted out from beneath a broad-leaved palmetto and launched itself at the nomad. The shots rolled like thunder through the night.

Kallie caught a blurred glimpse of black fur, bared and glistening fangs, and glowing silver eyes. Then the wolf hit Layne with a solid, bone-rattling impact, knocking them both to the ground, and a desperate determination burned through her.

It's me he wants. Me he'll chase down. He'll ignore Layne and Bell. All I hafta do is run. Two people have already died for me. I refuse to let anyone else.

Kallie whirled, adrenaline speeding her reflexes, fine-tuning her senses, and shoved Belladonna aside just as the mambo-in-training rushed up, knife in hand, to help Layne. Belladonna stumbled, then slipped on the wet grass and fell, sliding down the bank toward the water, shock blanking her face.

Sorry, Bell.

As Kallie pivoted back around, her heart skipped a beat when she saw Layne throw both arms up to protect his throat from the wolf's darting, snapping muzzle. Stepping forward, she punched her blade between the loup-garou's ribs. "Let him be, you goddamned fi' de garce!" she yelled. "You want me, then you gotta goddamned catch me."

With a savage snarl, the demon wolf leapt off of Layne, silver eyes lit with a devilish flame and fixed on her. Kallie spun and raced into the woods. Behind her, she heard Layne screaming, "No! Kallie! NO!"

She ran, dodging tree trunks and ducking under low branches, trying to avoid ankle-snagging vines and ankle-breaking rodent holes. Lightning flared, revealing her surroundings for a split second, then plunging her into darkness once more.

She ran, lungs burning, heart pounding, aware of the demon wolf loping behind her. Nipping at her heels. Remembering his breathtaking speed, she wondered why he was just playing with her, why he didn't bring her down.

Spanish moss caressed her cheek as she pelted beneath a thick, twisted oak branch, and the dream she'd had just before she'd awakened snuggled up against Layne's warmth poured into her mind.

She finds herself running through a night-blanketed forest, cold mud squelching between the toes of her bare feet, gray fingers of Spanish moss whispering soft against her face as she ducks beneath oak branches.

A cry cuts through the air, a horse's terrified scream. Kallie's heart drums against her ribs. Ahead, she hears the thunder of hooves trampling the earth, behind she detects the stealthy and measured tread of a predator.

She's caught between-racing toward one and fleeing the other.

And uncertain which is worse.

Maybe it was time to stop running altogether and make a stand.

A side-stitch knifed Kallie's ribs and she gasped. Besides, maybe the damned wolf wasn't tiring of this game, but she sure as hell was. Slowing her frantic pace, she came to a stumbling halt, one hand pressed against her aching side. She bent over, panting, her borrowed and bloodied blade still clutched in her hand.

I really need to jog more. Of course, that might not matter pretty soon.

The demon wolf padded to a stop several yards from Kallie. He stared at her with intent silver eyes-a hunter's implacable regard-and she smelled smoky fur, wolf musk, and the coppery tang of blood.

"I know your name, Devlin Daniels, and I know your godmother," Kallie said, straightening. "I also know it was the Baron who put you on my trail. All I ask is that you leave my friends and family in peace and give me the time to find my cousin. He's-"

Her words jammed up in her throat and her eyes widened when the wolf's fur began to ripple, to pour inward. Odd cracking and popping sounds percolated through the air-like someone snapping kindling for a campfire or splitting open walnuts-as the wolf's body rearranged itself with a fast and flowing grace.

Kallie blinked. The wolf had Changed into a crouching man.

A very nude man, one with a sculpted and lean-muscled build and wild good looks. Long, tangled black hair tumbled past his shoulders. Scars white with age furrowed both pecs. Blood smeared his side-her knife. Black claws curved from his long fingers. And he regarded her with lambent eyes the color of ashes-still the hunter's implacable stare.

He rose from the leaf- and vine-cluttered ground with a natural fluidity, unself-conscious of his nudity, and Kallie's gaze drifted helplessly south. She felt her pulse pick up speed as she realized that he would've done very well in the wet boxers contest-might've even given Layne some real competition.

Dear God. I'm as bad as Belladonna.

Hearing a low growl, Kallie jerked her gaze up and met Devlin's intent and somewhat amused regard. She lifted her chin, cheeks flaming.

"I know yo' name too, Kallie Riviere," Devlin said in a low voice. "And ma marraine told me dat you be an innocent, no matter what de Baron say, and dat you ain't to be harmed, but protected instead."

"And what did the Baron say?"

"Dat you be responsible for de failure of de wards, for de coming hurricane-among udder t'ings." Devlin padded forward, closing the distance between them. "He commanded me to bring you down."

A chill touched Kallie's spine, goosebumping her skin. "And is that what you're going to do?" She smelled him, a deeply earthy aroma-musk and blood and vetiver grass, masculine.

"Not yet. Not until I get de truth. See if you be de evil t'ing dat de Baron claims you to be or not."

"What if I am?" Kallie asked, heart drumming. She wondered if he was as fast in human form as he was on four paws. But remembering how quickly he'd Changed, she knew she wouldn't outrun him for long.

"Den I eat yo' heart."

Kallie swallowed hard. "And how do you find the truth?"

"I gotta look inside." Devlin tapped one black claw against his temple, then against his scarred chest above his heart. "It be de only way."

"But what if you can't find the truth? What if it's hidden even from me?"

"You know de answer to dat, you. Heart. Eaten."

Kallie curled her fingers around her blade, but she never got a chance to use it, let alone lift it. Before she even realized he'd moved, Devlin stood behind her, both steel-muscled arms locked across her chest-one just above her breasts, the other beneath. The claws of one hand raked into the skin above her heart. Blood oozed hot into her cleavage.

Pulse thundering in her ears, Kallie struggled to bring up the knife, to twist free, but her body refused to move. The blade dropped from her nerveless fingers. She felt a strange pressure behind her eyes, in her mind. Panic capered through her. Her mouth dried.

"It be all right," Devlin whispered into her ear. "Just relax, you. Dat's just me holding yo' mind and body still so you don't hurt yo'self while I look inside for de truth. Dis way I can see everyt'ing. Ain't no hiding."

Kallie tried to close her eyes, but couldn't. The pressure in her mind built and built until, at last, everything faded away in a soft gray haze.

Layne stumbled forward, nearly falling into what looked like a thorned blackberry bush when Belladonna crashed into him after his sudden stop, then bounced away like a flipper-smacked pinball.

"Oof! Nomad, what the hell?"

"We've got company, cupcake."

Layne studied the man who'd stepped out from among the Spanish-moss-draped cypress and into his path. He wore a white tee and jeans and stood taller than Layne by a couple of inches, with a well-muscled and powerful build. Tawny hair and beard. Empty hands. And his body language was as motionless as that of a hunting dog on point. His nostrils flared.

Looks like he's trying to catch our scent. The hair prickled on the back of Layne's neck as a very real possibility occurred to him-especially given the way the man's eyes held captured light.

Might be loup-garou.

The man's gaze slid from Layne to the Glock in his hand to Belladonna, then back to Layne. "What y'all doing out here dis late?" he asked. "And shooting a gun, no less. Dis be private property, not an all-night shooting range. What you be shooting at?"

"A wolf," Belladonna volunteered. "The demon wolf of the bayou in particular. He's chasing down our friend."

The man scowled, rubbed a hand over his beard. "You sure?" he asked, completely unfazed by talk of demon wolves. "Devlin Daniels be hunting here?"

And knowing the wolf's name explained why.

"Yeah, we're fucking sure," Layne growled.

The man's scowl deepened. "Dis ain't his territory. He knows better too."

"Sounds like a problem between the two of you," Layne said. "Good luck working it out. Now, if you don't mind, we need to continue-"

The man shook his head. "Like I said, dis be private property. You both wait here. I'll go after yo' friend." He half turned, then paused. "I hate to say it, but if Devlin Daniels be hunting yo' friend, he probably already caught her."

"That's only because you don't know Kallie."

Sympathy flickered in the man's eyes. "Y'all wait here," he ordered. Then he turned and loped away into the darkness.

"You waiting?" Belladonna asked.

"Hell no."

"Mmm-hmm. I didn't think so. Me either."

Layne trotted after the man, Belladonna running beside him.

The gray haze drifted away like morning mist on a sunny day. Kallie blinked. She tasted copper on her tongue, while the earthy smell of vetiver filled her nostrils. She felt strong arms around her and thought of Layne, felt herself reclining against him. Imagined they were still snuggled warm together on the bed in her aunt's botanica.

"I found de problem," a voice said. A voice that, with its Cajun accent, definitely wasn't Layne's.

Kallie's heart launched itself into her throat as she remembered who the voice belonged to. Black wolf. Demon wolf. Man with tangled black hair. Devlin Daniels. She shoved at his arms, nearly tumbling face-first onto the ground when he released her. She crawled away for several yards before rising to her knees and turning around.

He was, of course, still nude, but artfully posed. His long hair shadowed his face, but not his lambent eyes. He seemed to look into her. Knowing he'd been rifling through her mind, her memories, Kallie felt stripped naked and vulnerable. Lifting her chin, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"I found de problem," Devlin repeated.

"The loa," Kallie said as her heart slowed its frantic pace. "I know."

Devlin shook his head. "De loa yo' maman planted inside you ain't de original problem, but it be a part of de problem."

Kallie frowned. "Original? You mean there's more than one problem?"

"It be de black dust you took in from Doctor Heron. De hex you sucked down when you unzipped de man's soul."

Devlin's words rocked Kallie like a high-pressure blast of cold water. Her thoughts flipped backward.

"Don't do it, child," her aunt says. "It ain't yo' place."

The black dust coating St. Cyr's soul ripples, then flows backward and down, back into Kallie's waiting palm. The root doctor's spirit unravels inch by inch, molecule by molecule, until the air is empty.

"De black dust captured de loa," Devlin continued, "webbed her up like a fat fly in a spider web and it feeds on her power, using it to magnify its own. Dat be the cause of all de magical mishaps. And dat why you be a living hex, Kallie Riviere-a breathing jinx."

"Bon Dieu," Kallie whispered in horror, sitting back on her heels. What the hell have I done? "How do I fix it? Can I fix it?" Lightning strobed across the restless sky and she looked up, then added, "Before it's too late?"

Devlin tilted his head as though listening to something she couldn't quite hear and Kallie caught a glimpse of one delicately pointed ear. "Almost time to leave," he murmured, before focusing on her again. "When you reach Le Nique, ask for de traiteur and her shuvano mate. Den ask dem about de sacred fire. Dat be de only way you can fix what you done."

Kallie's heart gave a hard pulse. "Am I heading the right way?"

A smile touched Devlin's lips. "Oui. You practically right on top of it."

Eyes closing in relief, Kallie drew in a deep breath as hope unfolded within her. Maybe she wouldn't need to give up her life to keep the hurricane from devouring all that she loved.

Warm and callused hands gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet. Devlin's earthy odor swept over her. Her eyes flew open and she looked into his ash-colored gaze.

"Let go," she growled.

She tried to jerk free, but the demon wolf wasn't having it. A wild and primal fear fluttered up her spine. She imagined his claws ripping into her flesh. Tearing out her heart. Imagined him devouring it. She struggled to break free-twisting, kicking, knuckling punches.

But he simply held her at arm's length and let her flail away like a tantruming child refusing to go to bed, until she wore herself out. "You done?" he asked when she went limp.

"For now," Kallie panted.

Devlin pulled her close, then leaned in, his cheek next to hers, but not quite touching. He inhaled. "I've got yo' scent," he said, nostrils flaring. "I can find you anywhere. Anytime. Yo' heart be mine, Kallie Riviere, hoodoo woman."

Kallie wasn't sure how he meant that, exactly-literally or figuratively, but either prospect terrified her. Devlin released her, and she stumbled back a step as he dropped into a crouch and began to Change.

His transformation to wolf happened just as swiftly as his Change to human. Pops and cracks snapped into the air like sparks from a burning log as joints, tendons, and bones rearranged themselves, altered shape. Black fur covered flesh with a wind-ruffling-the-grass sound.

From within the shadowed darkness beneath the oaks and cypress, Kallie heard growls and snarls, then three wolves darted out of the trees to skirmish with the demon wolf. A few quick snapping feints, then Devlin whirled and raced off into the woods and the night. The other wolves chased after him, leaving Kallie alone.

Lightning strobed across the sky, chased by a ground-rattling boom of thunder.

Muscles trembling, she dropped to her knees on the soft leaf- and grass-padded ground and sucked in a shaky breath. "Shit," she whispered, shoving her hands through her hair.

"You must be Kallie," a man's deep voice said from behind her. "Guess de nomad was right."

Kallie spun around on her knees. A tall, tawny-haired man in a tight white T-shirt and jeans stood barefoot underneath an old oak. He studied her with a wild animal's watchful and unwavering gaze. Like a wolf. Like Devlin.

Skin prickling, she jumped to her feet. "Layne. Where is he? Is he all right?"

The man shrugged. "He be fine, far as I know. He and de girl been following me. But dey t'ink I don't know dat." He paused, eying Kallie's chest, nostrils flaring. "You be bleeding."

Kallie glanced down. Four bloody scratches marred the top of her left breast. And stinging pain kicked in the second she realized Devlin had left his mark on her. "Shit."

The thud of running feet pulled Kallie's eyes up. Layne pelted out from beneath a willow's moss-draped branches, Belladonna a couple of steps behind him. Relief washed across the nomad's handsome face, then quickly vanished. A muscle in his jaw flexed and his blond brows slanted down over a furious glare. Belladonna folded her arms over her chest.

Uh-oh.