The shower was… interesting.

  I had, of course, forgotten to grab clothes before stripping.

  Having ADHD back was not helping.

  Chaos was having the time of his life.

  “Dan! Why are all these clothes identical?!” Ruth yelled from the other side of the shower.

  ‘Yes, Dan. Why?’ Chaos chortled.

  I groaned and leaned my forehead against the wet tile. “I was a little OCD.”

  “It looks like you ironed your underwear!” she called back.

  “Maybe…”

  Definitely I did.

  “Is that why the canned goods are sorted by weight and alphabet?!” she shouted.

  Another groan escaped me.

  “So do you want the brown underwear labeled Tuesday,” she continued, “or the one labeled Thursday?”

  “Please tell me I didn’t do that…”

  “Oh, you absolutely did. So which is it, Danny boy?”

  “Toss me a towel so I can dry off and I don’t fucking care what date is on the clothes!”

  She went quiet.

  There was shuffling.

  “You dated the towels too,” she said slowly.

  I banged my head lightly against the wall.

  “I was messed up, okay?!”

  ‘I think she’s enjoying this,’ Chaos said lazily. ‘But you’re the one with psychic powers.’

  “Towel incoming!” she shouted.

  A towel flew over the top of the shower.

  Fuck.

  I was going to have to explain that too.

  I caught the towel and began to methodically dry off.

  That was a me thing—hating wet skin.

  “Ruth…” I began.

  “Spit it out!”

  She was refreshing for all the wrong reasons. Maybe.

  “I inherited psychic powers from my biological father,” I said quickly. “Just figured you should know. I use them sometimes without meaning to.”

  I winced.

  That could have been phrased better.

  Okay. Next goal: learn social skills, Chaos murmured.

  No shit, I sent back.

  “Well, that makes two of us,” she said. It sounded like she was digging through my trunk. “Apparently it helps nightmare dragons figure out fears. Thought we were the only ones.”

  “Nope.” I should really ask Edwin where those came from.

  I finished drying myself off and then wiped down the shower.

  “Hey! I found some expired canned goods,” she called. “Where do you want me to put those?”

  I paused. “Milk crate by the ladder?”

  Shouldn’t this freak her out more? I asked Chaos.

  Cosmic entity. Not all-knowing, he replied. Try Galbraith for that.

  I really didn’t want to know.

  Besides, he added, sometimes you can’t foresee how a woman’s mind will work.

  I knew that from my first marriage.

  By the time I finished, I could smell food cooking.

  I frowned.

  She was cooking. For me?

  My shoulders hunched as I chewed my lower lip.

  “Are you done? Do you want your clothes now?” she called.

  “Please?” Why was I so off-kilter with her?

  “Incoming Tuesday shirt and Thursday pants!” she laughed as the clothes sailed over the shower rod. Wednesday underwear and socks followed a second later.

  I scowled as I caught them. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Someone has to,” she said, moving away from the show stall. “You take everything too seriously.”

  Chaos chuckled.

  I dressed quickly and stepped out to assess the damage.

  She’d loaded several cans into the milk crate attached to the rope, making it easier to haul them up later. My pots and pans were out, and a pot of soup simmered gently on the stove.

  Ruth was shaking out the sheets and bedding as I stepped out.

  “I can do that,” I said.

  It came out hesitant.

  She grinned. “I get bored sitting around. And it needs doing.”

  Oh.

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “I’ll get a broom,” I muttered.

  She set the blanket back on the bed and stepped toward me as I started to move.

  “Is what I’m doing bugging you?”

  I rubbed my arm instead of answering right away. “Just… not used to this.”

  Her expression shifted—not offended. Curious.

  I felt it then.

  A faint, hesitant brush against my mind.

  Testing.

  Careful.

  I exhaled and dropped the mental resistance. My shoulders loosened as I let her in.

  We both froze.

  Before she could enter fully, we felt it—

  A group moving toward the hatch.

  We exchanged a glance.

  I bolted for the generator and killed it.

  The lights died instantly, plunging the bunker into darkness.

  I grabbed the scent-killer spray I kept at every hideout as the hum faded.

  The faint glow from the propane stove was just enough to guide me back to Ruth. We both stared at it.

  I crossed to the trunk, flipped the lid, and rummaged until my fingers closed around the flashlight. She shut off the stove without a word as I eased the trunk lid down.

  Footsteps echoed overhead.

  Someone started working the hatch.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the bunker. I yanked open a metal cabinet and we slipped inside. I sprayed scent killer along the floor, the walls—every surface—before slamming the door shut and spraying again.

  Then it hit me.

  I hadn’t dug a bolt-hole in this bunker yet.

  ‘Shit,’ I sent.

  ‘What?’ she sent back instantly.

  ‘I never finished an escape tunnel here.’

  I crouched lower, chewing my lip as the metal above us scraped.

  She sank down beside me, fists clenched on her thighs. ‘I shouldn’t have made soup.’

  ‘We didn’t know anyone had found this place,’ I sent. I hadn’t been here in a long time. I thought it was still on a three-year rotation—but I wasn’t certain.

  I’d have to be in Carl headspace to remember.

  I could hear people climbing down the hatch.

  ‘Chances they’re shifters and can smell us?’ I chewed the inside of my cheek.

  ‘Who knows?’ she replied. ‘How big is your property?’

  ‘Fifteen hundred acres,’ I sent. ‘Abandoned timber land. Nobody wanted it. I got it cheap.’

  The generator kicked on.

  Lights flared to life.

  Shit.

  ‘Chaos… any reassurance? Or a way out?’ Panic edged closer than I liked.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  ‘Shadow magic for hiding,’ he offered calmly. ‘If they find you and attack… maybe wait. Learn who they are first.’

  I rubbed my face and swallowed a groan.

  I was exhausted. And being coached through it by myself. In the form of a cosmic entity.

  The voices stopped suddenly.

  I reached over and grabbed Ruth’s hand.

  ‘They must have found the soup,’ she sent.

  ‘Or our scent,’ I swallowed hard. ‘Or both.’

  ‘Chaos—any advice?’ she asked as we heard the sounds of searching. Not trashing. Just searching.

  ‘Not helpful,’ I sent back. ‘Wait and see if they attack.’ I could feel her trembling. ‘If they do, we escape with shadow magic.’

  ‘Fuck,’ she sent. ‘I want my dragon back now.’

  Same.

  “Find anything?” a calm voice asked.

  Ruth’s hand tightened in mine.

  My heart thudded against my ribs.

  “The weird order of the clothing is off,” someone replied.

  I let my head fall forward.

  Of course that’s what gives me away.

  Who even notices stuff like that?

  “Just human scent and chemicals,” another voice said.

  That was either the spray—or whatever was still circulating in our systems.

  “Cabinet,” a firm voice ordered. Authority wrapped in calm certainty. “Fear is leaking from it.”

  My jaw tightened.

  Of course it was.

  ‘Halloween creature?’ Ruth sent, her nails digging into my hand.

  That would explain it.

  How exactly was I supposed to prepare for something that tracked fear?

  Scent blockers didn’t matter.

  Shadow didn’t matter.

  Breathing didn’t matter.

  We heard boots stop in front of the cabinet.

  ‘What do we do?’ she sent.

  I ran the options. None of them were good.

  ‘Improvise,’ I sent back. I needed to see what we were dealing with before making a move.

  Then the cabinet door opened.

  I almost wished it had been ripped off the hinges.

  Instead, it was pulled wide. Calm. Unhurried.

  That was worse.

  We found ourselves staring up at a tall young man.

  Or—hell—he could have been a hundred, considering how my life was going.

  Slender build.

  Shoulder-length blond hair.

  Pale blue eyes that assessed without hurry.

  Black leather from collar to boots—more punk rocker than biker.

  I squinted.

  A ragged red scar circled his neck like something had once tried to separate his head from his body.

  “Who are you?”

  His voice was deep. Steady. Laced with authority.

  Staring at him, I reached for John out of habit.

  Nothing.

  Integration complete?

  Fantastic.

  “I built this place,” I said.

  At least he wasn’t leaking magic.

  A gray-furred werewolf leaned over his shoulder.

  Not a wolf shifter.

  Something else.

  Half man. Half wolf.

  What, exactly, was my life right now?

  “Smells like dampeners,” the werewolf said, voice rough. “Used on them.”

  Options.

  The blond guy was slender. I could probably take his knee—

  A yawn echoed through my skull.

  What did I miss?

  Dragoon.

  Of course.

  I wasn’t sure that helped.

  Beta werewolf with no Alpha, he grinned in my head. Please tell me we can keep him.

  Not now.

  The blond man’s head tilted slightly. His gaze sharpened on me.

  “Malnourished.”

  I blinked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Ruth glanced at me. Then back at him.

  Oh. And you found our mate, Dragoon purred.

  I wanted him back.

  Just not like this.

  Fuck it.

  I lunged.

  The blond guy’s hand snapped up.

  “Stop.”

  The word wrapped around me like iron.

  My body locked.

  Breath stalled.

  My body remembered before my brain did.

  Cell.

  Laughter.

  Mind breaking.

  Blue eyes widened.

  The magic snapped.

  I hit the ground with a thud as he staggered back.

  “Sorry!”

  Just once, I would like to not do that.

  Ruth was at my side immediately, kneeling beside me.

  “Can I?”

  I nodded. No questions. Not yet.

  She pressed firm circles between my shoulder blades and glared up at the blond guy.

  “Wrong kind of fear, you idiot!”

  “I didn’t know he’d react like that!” he snapped. “I’m still figuring this crap out!”

  “Jerod,” someone said calmly, “you’re strong enough to let him tackle you.”

  “I told you I don’t have this figured out!” Jerod whirled on the speaker. “I was a singer before all this!”

  A third man stepped into view.

  Oh.

  He was big.

  Massive shoulders. Neatly parted black hair. Pale blue eyes behind wire-rim glasses. A white button-up oxford strained across his frame. Black slacks. Scuffed dress shoes that clearly did not belong in the woods.

  Accountant on steroids.

  He fixed Jerod with a look.

  “I’m aware of that. Magic should not be your first response.”

  Jerod straightened, arms crossing over his chest.

  “Ivan, you spent last night not sleeping because you didn’t want to cause nightmares. I think you’re the least qualified person to lecture me.”

  “I slept,” Ivan grunted.

  “For ten minutes. Then you panicked.”

  The werewolf groaned and rubbed his face.

  “John, why did I release those two again?”

  I stared at him. “Do I know you?”

  He glanced down at himself and swore.

  “Sorry. Forgot I was shifted when we found the bunker disturbed.”

  “Are all Halloween creatures like this?” I muttered to Ruth.

  “Dunno.” She shrugged. “Black sheep. I was too busy escaping my dad to learn more than the basics.”

  Oh.

  Great.

  The werewolf’s form shimmered.

  Fur receded. Bone shifted. Shoulders narrowed.

  My jaw dropped.

  Elias Ward.

  A buddy of mine who always vanished during full moons and showed up the next day looking hungover and irritated.

  He’d been scheduled for that deployment.

  Reassigned last minute.

  Probably saved his life.

  I stared at him.

  I think I understood the full-moon thing now.

  “Ward?” My brain was still rebooting.

  He flashed his usual wolfish grin.

  “Glad you’re not as dead as everyone claimed, Johnny-boy.”

  I groaned and dropped my head.

  He was going to have a field day with—

  “He goes by Daniel Vicars now,” Ruth offered helpfully.

  She meant well.

  “Even better!” Ward’s eyes lit up.

  “Don’t even think about it, furball,” I barked.

  I pushed myself back onto my heels and stared at the two men wildly gesturing and arguing behind him.

  “What’s with them?”

  “Attwater and Odin had them imprisoned,” Ward said with a shrug. “One of those two ran blood tests and figured out they were brothers. Ivan was apparently Jerod’s accountant. They got grabbed during the robot takeover.”

  I blinked.

  “They’re brothers?”

  “Yeah.” Ward crossed his arms. “One’s a nightmare dragon.”

  Ruth gulped.

  “The other’s a Headless Horseman shifter.”

  I stared at the scar circling Jerod’s neck.

  “I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “A what?”

  “Odin and Attwater thought I was just a wolf shifter,” Ward went on. “Had them convinced I couldn’t shift at all. Worked great—right up until the full moon.”

  “What happened?” Ruth asked.

  “Full beast mode.” He flashed her a vicious grin. “Strength triples. Howl becomes a weapon. Speed’s up about fifteen percent. I can jump three times farther than a human and run up walls.”

  He looked entirely too pleased.

  “It’s awesome.”

  “And then he’s a grumpy, hungover son of a bitch the next day,” I muttered.

  Then I froze.

  “Wait.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Is that how my field kit ended up on top of the barracks?!”

  Ward opened his mouth to answer—

  —and Blaine used the hoard bond.

  Where are you?! Blaine bellowed in my skull.

  Right.

  Dragoon was awake.

  Hoard bond was active.

  Ow.

  “Volume, Blaine,” I muttered, rubbing my temple.

  A migraine was blooming behind my eyes.

  Jerod glanced at me, frowning.

  I waved him off.

  What is it, Blaine? I’m in the middle of—

  Then I froze.

  The town.

  Where have you been?! Blaine snapped. Arthur and Xavier were captured. Along with you, apparently.

  He sounded furious.

  I’m keeping Merlin here because he’s one bad second away from rampaging to find his son.

  “Fuck.”

  I scrambled to my feet and started pacing.

  ‘Attwater cannot get his hands on him.’

  Who is Attwater?!

  Think African American Santa Claus, I said grimly. But evil. Heavy on the psychology. Tried to convince me I was in a mental institution.

  Shit, Blaine snarled. And he might have one of them?

  Jack didn’t get captured, Blaine went on. But we have Taro. I think you broke him.

  Memories of the shadows I’d called up made me swallow hard.

  Shadow magic is a bitch.

  ‘Any idea where they took them?’ I asked.

  Don’t you have a hoard bond with your brother? Blaine sighed.

  Still new at being a dragon, I groaned. Fine. I’ve got Elias Ward here—and a few others. We’ll see if we can track them down.

  Ward? Blaine snapped. The werewolf who exists solely to push my buttons? He doesn’t even act like fear is a thing!

  I was not explaining that to a grumpy demon.

  I’ll keep you updated, Blaine growled. And reassure your pack. If Carlos comes in here whining one more—

  “I got it, Blaine!” I shouted aloud before I could stop myself. “I’ll check on the pack!”

  He does well until stressed, Dragoon observed calmly.

  That he does, Chaos chuckled.

  Everyone was staring at me.

  Ward was grinning from ear to ear.

  I glared at him and let a little Alpha power leak out.

  I did not expect the whimper—or the way he immediately dropped his gaze and exposed his neck.

  “Fuck!”

  I threw my hands up.

  “Problems?” Ivan asked mildly.

  “Five minutes!” I snapped, still pacing. Then I clasped my hands behind my back, forcing control. “I’m a fucking Alpha trying to make sure my Omega isn’t losing his damned mind.”

  Ward was gawking at me.

  I’d deal with all of them after I reassured everyone.

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to know everyone yet.

  I opened myself to the pack.

  Sorry, everyone. You ended up with the worst Alpha ever. I’m fine—but I have to figure out how to get our Beta back.

  Silence.

  It stretched.

  Then reassurance flooded in.

  Warm.

  Steady.

  I wasn’t the worst.

  Also—they hadn’t burned the cookies.

  They’d frozen some for me.

  I shook my head.

  Carlos. You good? I asked.

  Yes. Just relieved you’re okay, he sent. Then hesitated. Who did you cower? I think you accidentally had them join the pack.

  Fuck.

  A second Beta? someone asked.

  Rare, a woman replied, but not unheard of.

  I groaned and marched over to the bunker wall. Leaning against it, I rested my forehead against my arms.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I muttered aloud. “Ward was just being his annoying self and I let my Alpha power out to put him in his place.”

  “Hey!” Ward protested.

  Just what I always wanted.

  Xavier? I called, hopeful.

  Silence.

  Yeah. Probably drugged. Like Ruth. Like my dragon.

  Alpha, Carlos sent, laughter threading through the word, using Alpha power is usually how you bring someone into the pack.

  “Would’ve been nice to know before I did it,” I grumbled.

  You’re still learning, an older man said. And you’re refreshing.

  You don’t hide your mistakes, a teenage girl added.

  Encouragement washed over me. My shoulders loosened.

  Thanks, I sent. I need to figure out how to find our other Beta.

  We’ll keep things steady here, Carlos replied.

  I exhaled—and this time, I smiled.

  Then I looked up.

  Everyone was staring at me.

  Abandoning all pretense of having it together, I slid down to the floor and rubbed my face.

  My voice sounded calm.

  I was not.

  “So. My life is a mess. Twenty-six years with no socializing outside my son. Mind fractured in two and only recently stitched back together. Forced into being an Alpha because apparently my dragon was born one. Guardian of Shadows. Vessel of Chaos.” I exhaled slowly. “Now three of my friends are missing. One of them is my Beta. He’s also my brother. Anyone have anything they’d like to add?”

  “When was the last time you fed?” Jerod asked, studying me.

  “Why is that your first question?” Ivan snapped, turning on him.

  “Can’t you see it?” Jerod shot back, gesturing at me.

  “See what?!” Ivan demanded.

  “Do you have a hoard?” I asked Ivan.

  The glare I got was answer enough.

  Right. Not explaining dragon cuddling today.

  “His aura,” Jerod insisted, tracing a loose outline in the air around me. “It’s clearly depleted.”

  That… was not comforting.

  I glanced at Ruth.

  She shrugged.

  Pure I have no idea what’s happening.

  Name Ward as Beta, Dragoon snarled. He’ll cut through a lot of crap.

  I rolled my eyes—but caught Ward’s gaze.

  I straightened without thinking.

  He stiffened immediately, wariness flashing across his face.

  “Elias Ward,” I said, voice steadier than I felt, “I name you Beta of the Willow Haven pack.” I hesitated. “At least… I think that’s what it’s called.”

  “Shit,” he groaned—and shuddered.

  He glared at me. “You just had to do that?”

  “Take it up with my dragon next time I shift,” I shrugged.

  He shook himself out. “So much for avoiding that.”

  “You called me Johnny-boy.” I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on my folded arms. “Explain all of this—and someone who is not me explain hoards to dragon boy.”

  “Dragon boy?!” Ivan snarled, drawing himself up.

  “You want to be a new packmate too?” I shot back.

  He immediately shrank and shook his head.

  Ruth crossed over and sat beside me.

  “I’ll join your pack,” she said softly. “Once he’s back.”

  I flashed her a grin.

  Ward let out a heavy sigh and looked at me.

  “Shadow dragons were originally residents of the Halloween Realm. Rare. Probably only a few left.” He hesitated. “The Shadow Lord would know for sure.”

  “Shadow Lord?” I frowned.

  “King,” he clarified, “but they’re allergic to that word.” He flicked a glance at Jerod. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Jerod said automatically—then blinked. “Wait. What do you mean no offense?”

  Ward smirked and turned back to me.

  “You’re the Guardian of Shadow. That makes you the primary Shadow Lord. There’s usually an anchor to keep them stable.” He paused. “Always brothers.”

  “Like hoards?” Ruth asked, rubbing slow circles between my shoulder blades.

  “And mates,” Ward added dryly.

  We made a mistake, I sent to Dragoon.

  He’ll settle with time, Dragoon chuckled.

  I’ve known him longer than you have, I shot back.

  Ward resumed pacing.

  “Being of the Halloween Realm—and Jerod being the Headless Horseman—means he can tell when one of his subjects is malnourished. Or when they need to feed on fear. He sees it in their aura.”

  Jerod stared at him.

  “There’s only ever one reigning Headless Horseman at a time,” Ward went on. “Sometimes there’s an heir. Sometimes an anchor. But the mantle only rests on one. Their sibling is also their anchor.” He glanced at Ruth. “Halloween likes sibling bonds. Keeps things balanced.”

  We were all staring at him.

  Mouths open.

  I swallowed. “That explains the psychic powers.”

  “A lot of Halloween creatures have them,” Ward said lightly, flashing a grin at Ivan and Ruth. “Nightmare ones especially.”

  “I know that,” Ruth huffed.

  chapterIvan’s eyes looked like they were trying to escape his skull.

  Ward clapped his hands once.

  “So,” he said cheerfully, “when do we eat? And one of you dragons needs to explain this hoard thing before I accidentally join something else.”

  Order: Does she do anything the way she’s supposed to?!

  Chaos: What do you mean?

  Order: Her King of Halloween is named Jerod and looks like a punk rocker. Not a noble.

  Chaos: And the problem is? He’s a headless horseman. That tracks.

  Order: He’s supposed to dress like a Victorian gentleman!

  Chaos: You were here for the last book. What part of that was normal sci-fi?

  Order: What is he going to do? Sing at his own coronation and put on a rock concert?

  Chaos goes quiet.

  Order: …

  Chaos: She did write Book Three. And finish it.

  Order: Oh, for fuck’s sake.