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“Well,” he said after a long swallow. “Looks like we’ve got monsters to kill.”

I turned to fully face him, quirking a brow.

“You are not suggesting that we drive to the Hughes’ house and kill the alpha of the pack.” It wasn’t exactly a question.

“No.” Dante set the almost empty bottle between us.

“Why?” To be honest, I was waiting for Dante to make that decision, to take it off my shoulders.

“They said they don’t harm humans.”

I gaped at him. “But they could be lying. Humans lie. Monsters lie. And we’re supposed to kill them.”

“Humans or monsters?” he teased.

I didn’t find it amusing. “You’re just going to take it on face value that werewolves are not only operating as a pack but as a pack that doesn’t hurt humans?”

Dante’s expression turned serious. “Do you believe them, Hadley?” The question was not sarcastic; it was somber, genuine.

“Yes.” I bit my lip, hating that I had to say it out loud. “I do.”

As much as it went against everything I stood for, everything I believed, everything I’d learned this past decade, I did believe them. Even though they’d lied and betrayed me.

“If because of nothing more than pure logistics,” I continued, needing to sound less like a weak fool. “The deaths in a hundred-mile radius point to one werewolf—Colton—and some of the animal attacks have to be animal attacks. We’re in bear country, after all. There are some other suspicious ones, but not all of them appear to be werewolf-related, more likely either the witch or another supernatural creature.” I tapped my fingers on my thigh. “Not enough for an entire pack of wolves.”

“Facts support it.” Dante nodded. “But you believe them.”

Why he was pressing this was a mystery, and it was also really fucking annoying. “Yes, I believe them. So can we forget about them, and go find the witch? And apparently a demon prince.”

I waited for Dante to annoy me further; it seemed to be his favorite hobby. He didn’t, though I caught the twitch in his jaw at the mention of the demon prince. He hadn’t laughed at it or dismissed it, so he obviously thought they were real. Enough to show a microscopic amount of fear. Dante. Afraid. It was enough to make my stomach twist.

“My mother was a witch,” Dante said, looking at the horizon.

I stared at his profile, shocked. Of all the things I expected Dante to say, that was definitely not it. It made sense, though. The runes etched in his belt, boots, him carrying around curses, knowing more than your average hunter about witches.

It was a secret, I knew that. One he would carry close to his chest because if others found out, they’d likely kill him.

“But witches don’t have sons.” My head swam with new information. Witches were human, technically—the ones who weren’t blessed by demons, at least—but they were a race unto themselves. They were born, not made. They also did not bear male children—one thing I thought was kickass about them. Men did not need that power, and their nature somehow knew it.

Women were bad enough; the number of demon-blessed witches was growing exponentially.

“No, they don’t,” Dante agreed. “Not until me, at least. And not after me. I was a one-time deal.”

I squinted at him, curious about the deep melancholy in his voice, the inner wounds that were as plain as day. Mommy issues, maybe. Wasn’t going near that with a ten-foot fucking pole.

“Do you have powers?” I pulled absently at the weeds that had sprouted around the headstone.

He shook his head. “Not in the conventional sense. I know every spell, every rune, but I can’t activate them.” He turned toward me, eyes twinkling. “But I have a bit of an … edge that mortals don’t.”

I bunched the weeds up in my hands, tilting my head to regard him. “What kind of edge?”

He grinned. “Gotta keep you guessing about some things, don’t I, Harris? That’ll keep you interested.”

I blew out an exasperated breath. Dante and his fucking secrets. “Will you ever trust me enough to tell me the truth about anything?” I didn’t bother trying to soften the fury bleeding into my demand.

“I trust you with my life, Hadley Harris.” He sounded somber, turning to face me with a serious glint to his eye that I didn’t like. “And I’ll trust you with my secrets as soon as you trust me.”

It was difficult to swallow with my heart pounding in my throat. “Don’t hold your breath.” I forced a scowl.