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"How?"

The look I gave her was one of disappointment.

"What you're asking me to do is corporate espionage."

I nodded.

"I could go to prison."

"Or I could let you go. You'd be hunted by things with sharp claws and teeth, and you'd wish for the protection of a jail cell. Little good it would do you."

She gripped the edges of the laptop. Her fingers found the keyboard. Not typing, just touching. The pads resting lightly on the keys the way another woman might have reached for a rosary.

"Or, you can tip the scales into the asset column, prove your loyalty to the Blackwoods, and become the new CEO of Sterling & Associates."

Her eyes moved to my face and stayed there. Her index finger found the power button on the laptop without her looking down. She stroked it once. Twice. The unconscious caress of a woman who had already begun to consider the terms.

She chewed her lower lip, lost in thought. I wanted her to sound out the problem, to show me her work product of the algebraic equation she was solving, to get a glimpse at the first draft of the polished essay she was about to turn in.

She parted those lush lips, intelligent eyes blazing brilliant, and said, "No."

I cocked my head to the side. It would be a waste to spill her blood. But I'd do it. Family first.

"Odhiambo & Associates."

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Get to work, Ms. Odhiambo."

She unfolded those long legs, still hugging the laptop to her chest.

I removed my jacket and tie. She stayed in the center of the bed, watching me.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"I'm going for a run."

"You're just going to leave me here?"

"I'll be back later."

I opened the door. A half-dozen golden eyes flashed back at me from the cover of the woods. Nell's gasp told me she saw the Blackwood wolves in the woods.

"Like I said, I advise you not to run."

CHAPTER THREE

NELL

Iexpected to hear the sound of a lock clicking. There was only the door shutting. It was the chorus of howls that let me know I wasn't going anywhere near that doorknob.

Wolves. There were fucking werewolves all around me. Shouldn't it be bears if I was a girl locked in a cabin in the woods?

But no, the bed was just right. I loved a firm mattress and soft pillows. The chair at the desk hugged my curves and was ergonomically perfect at the same time. He'd even left out a mug of coffee and snacks that I liked. No porridge. I was going to go criming with a hot beverage and high protein. Yay, me.

I stared at the door, then at the laptop like a live grenade. I should have been terrified. A normal woman would be huddled in a ball, praying to a God she only remembered on holidays.

I wasn't normal. I was the granddaughter of a woman who had been called a witch and cast out to a rural region in northern West Africa, far from the coastal capitals where glass towers caught the sun and wealth and opulence often rivaled the countries who called themselves First World and put ours in third place.

My mother had been no different. She would have lifted a brow at the men turned to wolves, as though she didn't have time for their shenanigans. Then she would've turned her gaze back out the window as she counted down the minutes until I was old enough to be on my own so she could finally chase my father into the afterlife.