It was all I could do to sit back down. But I realized Seth had to be right. It was the only explanation why Connie would be with Samson Thrasher. I hated the thought of her hanging out with the Thrasher pack, even if she was doing police business. "I thought you had them under surveillance. Why didn't you know?"

"It's the platinum wig," Seth hissed. "I saw a bleached blonde around the place now and then, but I wasn't close enough to see who it was, and I didn't think anything of it. I just figured one of the boys had a new loup-garou wife."

To prevent too much inbreeding, the Thrasher pack had often turned to a number of packs in Cajun country to find mates for their sons and daughters. A loup-garou is a Cajun werewolf. I suppose that a swamp dog is a swamp dog whether you're in Savannah or Louisiana. They evidently like to stick to their own kind.

"So much for keeping the Thrasher matter just between us monsters. What are we going to do now that the police are involved?"

"I don't know," Seth said. "I need time to think."

"Time's up, buddy," I said. I stood up and started toward Samson and Connie.

"Be careful, Jack. Don't say anything that might endanger Connie."

"Don't worry," I said, giving him a meaningful look. "I would never do anything to hurt Connie."

I sauntered over toward them. Two other male werewolves, each with a girl on his arm, had entered the bar behind the pack leader. One of the girls was Sally.

Samson didn't look much different from the last time I 'd seen him, many years ago. He was tall and rangy with that wiry strength that always took you by surprise in somebody so thin. Especially when you had to fight them. He had s.h.a.ggy gray hair, cut in a mullet. His eyes were different from Seth's; they were the pale blue-white eyes of an Arctic wolf. I always wondered how Samson came by those eyes that made you feel like you were staring into a mile-deep pool of water just on the verge of freezing.

Those eyes widened when he saw me. "McShane, you old grease monkey, you. I guess they'll let anybody or anything in here these days. I'll have to speak to the proprietor about his lack of good taste and refinement. What brings you to my neck of the swamp?"

"Oh, you know what a social b.u.t.terfly I am," I said. "I thought I'd check out the nightlife hereabouts."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Connie hadn't flinched from the time she saw me. She had a wad of chewing gum in her mouth and an expression of lazy boredom on her face. Man, she was good.

Samson tilted his head upward, put his nose in the air, and took a deep breath. He smelled another werewolf besides the ones he'd come in with. About that time the music on the jukebox stopped and when the folks on the dance floor sauntered toward their seats, Samson saw Seth, who raised his beer bottle in his direction and gave him a big, toothy grin.

"Who's your friend?" Samson asked.

"Him?" I said. "His name's Seth. He's somebody you should meet. So who's your friend? Aren't you going to introduce me to this fine lady?"

Samson inclined his head toward Connie. "This here little lady is Bitsy," he said. "Bitsy, meet Jack McShane." "Bitsy?" I couldn't help it. I snickered.

Connie glared at me. "Pleased to meet you."

The music on the jukebox started up again. It was a slow dance. "Bitsy, would you like to dance while Samson here goes and introduces himself to my friend? I'm sure they have a lot to talk about."

I was strictly going on instinct. Since Seth had saluted Samson instead of sneaking out the back door, I could only figure that he had some plan up his sleeve, so I might as well invite Samson to meet Seth because he was going to whether I encouraged him or not. Besides, this way I'd get to talk to Connie alone.

Connie shrugged and smacked her gum, as if she didn't care one way or another. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll be back in a minute, darlin'," Samson drawled. "Now, Jack, don't you try anything fangy, uh, I mean fancy, with my girl here while I'm gone, you hear?" Samson slapped me on the back a little too hard and laughed at his own joke before making his way over to Seth. The other werewolves and their girls followed him. When I looked after them I could see Sally steal a scared, wide-eyed glance at me, but she wisely said nothing.

I took Connie in my arms and guided her to the farthest corner of the little parquet dance floor. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I'm doing an undercover investigation. What are you doing here?" she hissed. "And Seth. What's going on?"

"Seth and I have reason to believe that the Thrashers are manufacturing crystal meth. So we're investigating, too."

When I mentioned the name of the drug, Connie's expression hardened into what I could only describe as a look of hatred. It was a little unsettling. "Seth's in law enforcement," she said finally, "so I can understand him being here. How did you get involved?"

"You see the little blonde with one of the Thrasher boys?"

"Yeah, Sally. Evidently she's the girlfriend of Thrasher's oldest. How do you know her?"

"She's one of Eleanor's girls."

"And?" One of Connie's delicate brows shot upward. She had learned all about Eleanor since right after she found out William and I were vampires. I had told her everything. Well, almost everything. She still didn 't know about other nonhumans. But she was about to find out.

If she had known about Eleanor's operation while El was still in business-that is, before Reedrek burned her house down-I had no doubt that Connie would have raided the place for prost.i.tution. That is, if the higher -ups in the police force, the ones who had turned a blind eye to the operation for so long, had allowed it.

Eleanor's place had been a favorite with politicians and other powerful, rich guys since the day it opened. If the police had shut it down, they would have had a lot of explaining to do. Connie wouldn't have cared if they demoted her; she would have busted Eleanor and her gang anyway. That's how by-the-book she was. But none of that happened and now I was the one with a lot of explaining to do. Namely, why I was so concerned about one of Eleanor's charges.

"Well, um, you see, William felt responsible for Eleanor's girls, what with his sire burning down their house and destroying their livelihoods and all. So when he left for Europe he told me to take care of the girls."

Connie gave me a look that said she wished she had a wooden stake in her hand. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been babysitting a whole wh.o.r.ehouse full of floozies since William left?" She put her hands against my chest and pushed away from me. "They're homeless," I said. "Where's your Christian charity?" I put my arms around her waist and gently drew her back to me.

I just loved to feel that girl against me. And she always smelled so good, just like a woman should.

Connie glanced over to where Samson and his boys were talking to Seth, and my gaze followed hers. So far they were talking peacefully. I was glad the juke joint was packed tonight. n.o.body wanted to make a scene in front of the human crowd.

"So, you're telling me you're here because the Thrashers have gotten this Sally, who you're supposed to be looking out for, hooked on meth?"

"Yeah," I said, glad that she seemed to have calmed down. At least for now.

"How did Seth get on this case? He's way out of his jurisdiction."

"Well, he-that is..." What could I say that wouldn't spill the beans on Seth's being a werewolf? It was his place to tell her, not mine. Although I must admit that having Connie know he was a monster, too, wouldn't bother me one little bit.

"What are you not saying, Jack? Whatever it is, I need to know."

She was right. She was putting her life on the line in this investigation in ways she didn 't even begin to understand. I had no choice.

"This is not easy to explain," I began. I was relieved to see a guy feed another quarter into the jukebox.

"Spit it out. It looks like Seth is keeping Samson and his boys occupied for now, but we don't have much time."

"Seth's a werewolf," I blurted. "Uh, I mean, Samson's a werewolf. h.e.l.l, they're all werewolves."

Connie looked around her wildly. "All these people are werewolves? Wait a minute! There's such a thing as a werewolf?"

I glanced around to make sure n.o.body had heard her since her voice just went up an octave. "No, not all of them are werewolves."

I pulled her closer and she let me hold her. Much more of that and I was going to get turned on, and then I might have that little problem with bursting into flames that I did the last time I tried to get intimate with Connie. That might make a bit of a scene in itself. Not to mention set off the smoke alarms.

"Only Seth and the Thrashers are werewolves," I said. Holding her as I was, I could feel the small revolver she had in a shoulder holster under her jeans jacket. I was glad it was there for her protection.

"Seth's a werewolf?" Connie looked as stunned as if somebody went upside her head with a two-by-four. "All this time I've known him and he's a werewolf." She shuddered.

"Do you remember how I told you that vampires have to police themselves so that human beings won't find out about us?" I asked. "Werewolves are the same way. Think about it. It would be a bloodbath for people in and around the county jail and a disaster for all nonhumans."

Connie squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't believe this. First vampires. Now werewolves. What else is out there, Jack?"

"I'll explain all that to you later. What you have to know now is this: Seth and I will handle the situation with the Thrashers. The local police can't get involved. You need to go back to the city and stay there."

"I can't do that."

"Why the h.e.l.l not?" "Jack, I didn't come here to investigate the methamphetamine case. I came here to investigate a domestic violence matter that may have turned into a murder. You see Sally's new boyfriend, Nate?"

I looked at Samson's oldest as he slouched against the bar while his father talked to Seth. He had the mean, insolent look that the whole pack had. Being the son of the alpha didn't sweeten his disposition any. He had to help his father fend off challengers but could never challenge Samson himself. Well, he could, but then he would have to kill his own father. The Thrashers were a tight bunch, and I doubted if the other pack members would accept one of their own who offed his old man. "Yeah? What about him?"

"I heard through...informants that he was beating his wife on a regular basis. By the time I got down here to investigate, she had vanished. I tried to question the women in the extended family, but none of them would talk about what happened to her."

Alarm bells went off in my head. "It seems to me you've done too much already. Don't you know that the womenfolk will tell their men you've been asking after this girl? You've got to get out of here and leave all this to Seth and me."

"No way. I may be on the verge of being able to bring in the police."

"Bring in the police? Are you telling me you're doing this without any backup?" I couldn't believe my ears. "Do they even know you're here?"

Connie thrust out her chin in that way she had of letting me know that she was going to follow her own course no matter what anybody said. "Not exactly. I didn't have enough evidence to go on at first. But now that you tell me there's a meth operation, if I can go there tonight and see the beakers and other equipment, the lye, the cold medicine, the whole bit, I 've got the probable cause to come back and bust them on drug charges. After Samson goes down then maybe the women will talk more freely."

"But the Thrashers can't go to jail," I insisted. "Remember?"

Connie grimaced. "Oh, c.r.a.p."

I looked at her carefully. "You're mostly interested in the domestic violence part of this, aren't you? Do you do this often?"

"Do what?" Connie wouldn't meet my gaze.

"You know what I'm talking about. Do you go off on your own investigating wife beatings before making it an official police case?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "You have to do what you have to do."

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned," I said, putting a little swing in my dance step.

"What?"

"By-the-book Officer Consuela Jones, who sees everything in black and white, is a rogue cop. Who'da thunk it?"

Connie gave me a petulant look. "I guess you don't know everything, do you?"

"I guess I don't at that. But then, you never cease to surprise me." I also never ceased to be impressed with the woman I held next to me. Her determination and courage were inspiring. Throw in the brainpower and education and she was just one awesome female.

The music was coming to an end and the other couples were making their way off the dance floor and to their tables, leaving Connie and me on our own. Reluctantly, I took my hands away from her body and immediately felt like a cold-blooded creature again. Whenever she was in my arms, it was so d.a.m.n easy to pretend I was a real, live boy, as Pinocchio used to say in one of the bedtime stories I read to Renee. I was about to ask her what she proposed we do now when I saw Nate Thrasher raise a bar stool and break it over Seth's head. That took care of the what-do-we-do-now? question.

By the time I reached the melee, Seth, who had remained seated until then, had stood up. All six feet, four inches of him. The three Thrasher men went slack-jawed. I took advantage of that half second they remained motionless to lay out the youngest one with a punch square to the jaw. That brought Samson and Nate back to their senses, and the fight was on. Werewolves like to fight in wolf form, so I just hoped these guys could stop themselves from changing in front of all these humans. Talk about all h.e.l.l breaking loose. And Seth didn't want Connie to see him like that. I looked into his eyes. He desperately didn't want Connie to see him like that. That twisted my gut a little bit, I don 't mind telling you. If there had been any doubt in my mind that he had feelings for her, those doubts were gone. I put my romantic problems out of my mind since I had more pressing matters to deal with.

Nate swung; I managed to duck but not far enough, and the punch landed on my shoulder much harder than it should have.

"s.h.i.t!" I yelled, and shook my arm to bring the feeling back into it.

Seth sidestepped a punch from Samson, which brought him to within a foot of me. "Jack, watch out! They're on meth!"

Double s.h.i.t. When guys were tweaking on meth, they came on super -strong. Not only did the drug make them temporarily more powerful and aggressive, but it made them feel like they were ten feet tall and bulletproof. Luckily, I 'm a vampire. I am all that, by G.o.d. I hauled off and hit Nate Thrasher in the gut so hard it knocked the breath out of him and made his face as red as a cherry tomato.

I took advantage of the extra seconds Nate's bad fortune gave me to pay attention to the humans in the bar. Some of the men were gravitating toward us. A couple of them had picked up empty beer bottles off tables and were holding them by the neck.

Their reaction was only natural. Although I can't imagine that the Thrashers were popular hereabouts, they were probably regulars and Seth and I were seen as the interlopers. I had to do something quick.

I'd only practiced enthrallment, or glamour, or whatever you wanted to call it, a couple of times. But it had worked, and William told me I was some kind of prodigy at it. I'd never used it on a whole bunch of people at once, but I knew I'd better give it a try and it better be a success or me and Seth, and maybe Connie, would be in a world of hurt.

Nate had his breath back and was barreling toward me. As I braced myself, I concentrated on a message to the humans.

There's nothing to see here. Nothing to do. Go on back to your tables and focus on your beer and your women. And then, just for the h.e.l.l of it, I thought really hard: Dance!

I dodged Nate Thrasher's punch and landed one of my own on his cheekbone, which reeled him backward again, this time toward the door. It gave me a second to look around. The Thrashers were unaffected. Samson and Seth still struggled hand-to- hand. Connie stood to one side, watching the melee with her shooting hand under her jacket so she could draw her weapon if she decided it was necessary. The werewolf woman who had been with the youngest Thrasher was kneeling over him as he lay moaning.

It was no surprise that the werewolves didn't go under the spell. They were not human, after all. And Connie wasn't human either. I had seen her be enthralled by Reedrek, but he'd had hundreds of years more than I had to practice. It figured it'd take more umph than I had as a novice to put her under my spell.

Sally and all the other humans were dancing like there was no tomorrow. Somebody had put another quarter in the jukebox.

Elton John belted out, "Sat.u.r.day Night's All Right for Fighting."

I paused a second too long gaping at the crazy scene and Nate Thrasher connected with a punch right to my jaw. I shook it off and came at him, knocking him down and half out the door. As we wrestled for the upper hand we rolled down the wooden front steps of the place and landed with a thud on the cold ground. By the time we scrambled to our feet, Samson had come flying out the door and landed next to us.

Seth jumped out of the doorway and landed on his feet next to me with the grace of the powerful animal he was. The youngest Thrasher had come around and staggered down the steps to help his brother haul their father to his feet. The female stood behind them. Connie came out to the top step, watching.

Now on his feet, Samson eyed Connie warily and then turned his attention to me. "Good job in there, Jack. How come our lady friend here didn't get bewitched like the rest of those humans, huh?"

I stole a glance at Connie and shrugged. "I reckon she don't feel like dancing, is all." Man, that sounded lame. Connie wisely said nothing.

Seth looked at Connie and back at me. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. I could guess why he was nervous. It wasn 't that he and I couldn't take on three male werewolves and one female on our own. It was that whenever there was some real serious werewolf fighting to be done, they always shifted into their wolf form. That's what Seth antic.i.p.ated right now.

I had no idea how long the spell on the humans would hold, so I decided I may as well press matters and see what happened when I rolled the dice. "So I take it y'all dudes got acquainted with old Seth here," I said. "So, boys, what's it gonna be?"

Seth spoke quickly, I guessed so he could put his own spin on matters since Connie was present. "These gentlemen and I have an appointment in a couple of days. That's when we'll settle...matters."

"When the moon is full," Samson put in. "We'll have it out."

Seth glanced at Connie again. "Until then, boys."

Samson looked at Connie as slyly as only a wolf can. "You coming with us, precious?"

After seeing that she was different from the other humans, Samson was clearly suspicious of Connie. He knew she wasn 't a shape-shifter or vampire, but he knew she was something out of the ordinary. If he was curious enough and had the opportunity there was no telling what he might do to her to find out what. In any case, it was impossible for her to go with him now; I only hoped that she realized that. Earlier she'd said she would go over to Samson's to try to see the meth operation, but surely she'd give up that idea.

Connie shook her head. "No. I'm not going." She came down the steps to stand with Seth and me.

Samson didn't flinch, only looked from one to the other of us. I could see the wheels turning in his head. "I should have known you couldn't run Savannah all by yourself without William Thorne," Samson said to me. "You had to call in reinforcements. Had to get yourself a real man, a werewolf, to help you run the show. And some kind of witch woman whose skirts you can hide behind."