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Louis’ voice filled the car as Alain gunned the powerful engine of the Porsche and swerved around a slower moving taxi. Twin number two. The less serious one, but Louis’ teasing banter aside, he was damn good at his job. Same as Pierre. If someone broke through their security, they weren’t your average hacker.

“We didn’t call you because we’ve been busy trying to trace whoever’s helping her,” said Pierre, his voice tight, the clack of a keyboard in the background punctuating his words. “This guy’s not a script kiddie. It took time to block him from your system. I’m still trying to get him out of the building’s security.”

“Besides, don’t you have some sort of witchy protection over your door?” asked Louis. “If he doesn’t, he bloody well should have,” he muttered, knowing damn well Alain would hear him.

“We were more concerned with the hacker. We didn’t think she’d be able to get in,” admitted Pierre.

Neither did he. “I do have a ward on my door. It would have damn near killed her if she broke it.”

Silence settled over the car, save for the screech of his tires as he took a corner.

“What do you mean, if she broke it?” demanded Pierre. “She opened your front door and walked straight through. She had to have broken your ward.”

“I would know if someone broke my ward, and I’m telling you the first I knew of someone in my apartment was when I got your text.”

Except…that wasn’t entirely true. His body was still primed from the rush of heat back at the fundraiser. Had that been the moment she’d stepped through his ward?

“But…that’s… I mean…how?”

Louis’ confusion was no match for his own. How the fuck had she done it? It shouldn’t be possible. Yes, she was a witch, of that he had no doubt, but if she was strong enough and experienced enough to break his ward without injury, then he would have sensed it the moment he was three feet from her. Power like that was hard to hide from other witches. Impossible to hide from a wolf-witch like him. It didn’t make sense.

He pulled up to the curb outside his building and leaped from the car, his phone to his ear.

“I can see you on the cameras,” said Pierre. “So can our hacker friend. He’s probably warning her right now.”

That thought was finally enough for his wayward groin to get the memo. Kind of. This was serious. Alain couldn’t let her get her hands on that grimoire.

“What are you going to do?” asked Pierre.

With her? Alain wasn’t certain yet, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to be limping back to Maxime with his tail between his legs because he’d lost a grimoire the tenth-century Langeais wolves had risked life and limb to secure. He took the stairs two at a time. “You can see me, right?”

“Oui,” said Pierre.

“Let me know if she tries to take the stairs.” He stepped into the elevator the second the doors slid open and punched the button for his floor, stabbing the close door button repeatedly. The door finally slid shut, and the elevator began its smooth ascent.

“She’s pretty,” said Louis.

Alain snarled at the camera, an irresistible urge to reach through it and throttle him surging up in his throat.

“Did you see that, Pierre?”

“See what?” asked Pierre.

“See that look Alain just gave us.”

“What are you talking about, Louis? He growled at us. I growl at you all the time. We all do. Even Melinda. It’s no surprise Alain wants to growl at you too.”

Melinda, their mate.

“No, no, no, no. This was different.”

Alain huffed and glared at the slow-moving light on the control panel. How did Pierre not want to put his twin’s head through a wall at least twice a day?

“Different how, exactly?”

Curiosity threaded through Pierre’s voice. As werewolves, they all picked up on subtle variations of tone and scent and meaning. The twins, with each other, took that to a whole other level, often communicating an entire conversation without using a single word. It was uncanny and unnerving. He ignored them and adjusted himself, trying to ease the discomfort in his pants. It did not have the desired effect. Rather it encouraged it back to its previous hard-as-granite state.

Pierre chuckled. “Did you see that, Louis?”