She wanted to scream. Six months stuck in a mountain prison was the last thing Danielle Kenrick wanted. When her parents offered her the chance of a lifetime, she was skeptical to even accept. She had spent time in the States before, but that was on the west coast and in the extravagant city of Los Angeles. This place couldn’t be any different. But her mother, Helen, spoke of the opportunity like a veteran salesman. The idea was intriguing on the surface; work as an ambassador for their family, while secretly documenting everything that goes on. This aspect Danielle didn’t mind. But as the weeks became months and the snow gave way to spring, she understood the real reason the parents of the Redthorn Estate sent their children instead—the place was boring as hell.
     Danielle jotted down more notes into her journal. Nothing too secretive; a simple reminder about the shift changes and the names of a few guards. And this was how the days went. She would wake, get ready for the day, shuffle through breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then perhaps an evening spent within the lower levels or in the small theater. She was certain that the life of a permanent resident held more of the same. And her family saw this place as a threat?
     But it was the places she and her cousins were forbidden to go that sparked her interest. What was Ingram hiding? They weren’t allowed in his personal study or bedroom, and the bedroom once belonging to his daughter had been locked. Not long after arriving at the estate, Danielle tried to sneak into this one bedroom, but as she tested the lock, Pax spotted her. She didn’t hide her real reason for the attempted break-in; in fact, she demanded to know all about Evonne. Pax gave no morsel of information as he ushered her down the hall and back to her room.
     Her cousin Rachael—nicknamed “Riff” by her father—was less deterred by the stone wall Pax continued to show. She was determined to find acceptance with him. Nevertheless, two weeks within their arrival, Pax left for the west coast. After digging for the truth, they learned that he returned to his original place of work: SEVEN. This was the true oyster to crack.
     SEVEN was like a plague in Danielle’s eyes. Those places were popping up all across the world—a cancer going unnoticed. She even imagined to one day see a SEVEN headquarters established in Antarctica. They were reminiscent to a powerful corporation, trampling over everything her family held sacred. Those of Redthorn were chosen to fight this war, not some band of humans with minuscule training in firearms and fighting techniques. SEVEN was the political powerhouse when compared to the religious zealots that made up Redthorn. At least that was how Danielle imagined they looked to Ingram and his men.
     The ones accompanying her on the trip were Riff Kenrick and Jake Mallin. Riff’s father, Anthony, was the brother of Helen, Danielle’s stoic mother. Anthony was, by far, the most intimidating out of their two families. Danielle remembered seeing him confronting Pax near the steps of their house, and how much it angered him to allow the bastard son of Catherine remain breathing. Even the weeks that followed, Anthony tried his hardest to keep himself in check. Pax did most of the work for him, staying off to the side and his keeping his mouth shut. But there was so much that Danielle saw in Pax that reminded her of Anthony. They both had similar looks, and even the same mannerisms. Riff carried some of these traits, as well.
     Born Rachael Mae Kenrick, daughter of Anthony and Margaret Kenrick, Riff took after her father in appearance and demeanor. She carried the same blonde hair and green eyes, but at the age of sixteen, she chose to cut off her golden locks. Her mother gasped at the new look. Danielle, on the other hand, liked the pixie-style cut. “Punk chic,” she called it.
     Danielle wasn’t brave enough to take on such a change with her own appearance. She liked her long, dark hair the way it had been for years. It was the only thing her father seemed to compliment her on these days.
     Her father, Daniel, left his home in India at a young age. He spent most of his life in England where he met Helen while attending college. Even though their family was different from the typical human one, many things remained the same. Daniel feared the day when his youngest, Hailey, would begin the dreaded teen years.
     Danielle’s appearance took more after her father than mother. She had the olive skin and dark hair like her father, but carried her mother’s build; from the shape of her face and athletic body, to her full lips and expressive eyes.
     And then there was Jake. The son of Emma and Korey Mallin, Jake was the brains amongst the trio. He had a younger brother and sister, both already showing signs as strong hunters in their own respect. But Jake was never comfortable with taking part in any of the fights the others salivated for. He preferred the research and planning of their hunts to any bloodshed. Many of the Mallins in the past felt more at ease with the creation of weapons and strategies, and Jake was no exception.
     There was no team leader between the three. Age played no part when stacked up against experience. Riff, the youngest at twenty, but had more field experience than Danielle and Jake combined. Danielle, having turned twenty-three before leaving home, spent the majority of her youth studying under the guide of her many tutors. It wasn’t until she turned seventeen did her parents switch her studies to weapons and combat training. Jake was the oldest at twenty-five. He had the complete Mallin look—natural, strong body, dark brown hair, and blue eyes. As handsome as he was, Jake was nothing more than a wallflower. He felt more comfortable in front of a computer screen than in a club, looking for a good time. Danielle could relate, but not to the extent that was she was considered antisocial. She knew how to put on the facade of a “people person.”
     But this place required none of her skills. Though her mother sent her on this important assignment, this was no longer a job. It was a holiday from hell.
     A light knocking came to Danielle’s door. She continued writing as she called out, “Come in.”
     The door opened, revealing Riff decked out in a hodgepodge of black and red clothing. The girl seemed to be on a mission to bring back the fashions of the 1980s—one dead outfit at a time. At least here she didn’t have to deal with her mother’s constant bickering over clothing.
     As Riff crossed the room and took a seat on the leather chair, Danielle finished the passage in her journal.
     “I have some good news,” Riff said. She waited for her cousin to look up, questioning her with a simple expression. “I believe tonight’s the night we finally get to play.”
     “Ingram is letting us out of his sight?” asked Danielle as she placed the pen inside her journal and closed it. “Are you sure he isn’t planning anything else?”
     “It’s legit. There have been reports of some werewolf activity near a farmhouse. It’s several hours from here, and we’ve been invited to accompany the team.”
     “Will the brute, Jonathan, be with us?”
     Riff flashed a beaming grin. “Nope. This gives us a chance to see these little humans in action.”
     “We’re human, too.”
     “Labels, labels,” she said as she stood up and went to the window. The view was better than her room. From this vantage point she could see the driveway and anyone who happened to pull up to the house. But Eden’s interesting guests used the alternate entrance, the one leading to the underground levels.
     “Is Jake coming along?” Danielle asked.
     “He said he’d like to, but you know where he’s most comfortable.”
     “What do they call them here, scribes? Jake can act as our scribe.”
     Riff turned away from the window. “I’ll ask him.” She crossed the room, she added, “Hurry up and get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.” Her bouncy walk shown her excitement for the day’s events. And there was a rumor that the werewolf wasn’t alone. A pack comprised of rogues would be the perfect scenario to derail her boredom.
     Riff’s excitement infected Danielle. As her cousin left the room, she couldn’t help but anticipate the possible hunt. It had been a while since she got her hands dirty, and the thought of shedding the world of one more werewolf would give her some real validation for being here.

Pax stood off to the side as the pesky trio loaded into the black SUV. He knew that his presence must have caught them off guard. It was his first time back at the estate since returning from the UK. But his return wasn’t because he missed this place, he was here on a personal matter.
     The dark haired girl, Danielle, stared at Pax, her eyes giving no hint to her true thoughts. The doors to the SUV closed, ending the brief stare between them. One by one, the three vehicles rolled out of the underground garage and into the tunnel.
     Pax glanced around the busy garage and saw Jonathan approach. Hoping to avoid the obvious questions, he headed for the elevator, with Jonathan picking up his pace. Pax pressed the “Up” button. The damn elevator couldn’t move any slower.
     “Glad to have you back,” Jonathan said as he finally reached him.
     Pax kept his eyes on the elevator doors. “I’m not back.”
     “Where were you? LA said you fell off the grid shortly after arriving.”
     As the elevator doors opened, Pax stepped inside, alone. He looked at his friend, avoiding the question. “Don’t trust anyone from Redthorn.” The doors closed.
     On the first floor Pax left the elevator and made his way into the main room. The place was peaceful, void of all life and ambient noise. He stopped by the grand staircase and sat down. What to tell him, how to say it? The time he spent away from this place was suppose to be relaxing.
     He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”
     Ordering himself to move, Pax headed for Alex’s office. He allowed himself no time to chose his words. No amount of planning could make the news any less painful. It was his sense of loyalty that sent him into this room. If he could have it his way, he would leave everything behind and live his life without conflict.
     Alex sat at his desk, writing on a legal pad while talking on the phone. He glanced up to see who entered and almost stopped in mid sentence. Pax nodded at him as he took his time to close the door, even going as far as to lock it. He then took a seat in front of the desk and waited.
     Alex finished with the call and relaxed back in his chair. The silence was more than Pax could take, but he refused to speak first.
     “Well?” his boss finally asked.
     “Something came up.”
     “Something came up? I get a call two weeks after you leave informing me that three hunters have gone missing. Imagine my surprise when your name was mentioned. What happened?”
     “I didn’t want to answer any questions over the phone,” Pax said as he nervously shifted in his seat. His eyes left Alex to settle on anything else—books, paperwork, chairs, all seemed easier to look at than this man.
     Alex tilted his head. The subtle changes in Pax were completely foreign to him. “What happened?” he asked again, his voice softer this time.
     “It’s not like I planned this. Believe me, nothing about this was planned.” His eyes finally returned to Alex. “I’ll start at the beginning. It’s true that I went back to LA for the three obvious reasons—the three still staying here, I see. But there was another reason.”
     “Sophie?” Alex guessed correctly.
     “Am I that transparent? Don’t answer that. And before you go on about ‘shitting where you eat,’ I liked this girl. I really liked her.”
     “Liked?”
     “Hunters aren’t suppose to… Hunters kill.” He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing away his fumbling words.
     Alex narrowed his eyes at him. “Pax, I’m not following you.”
     He decided to speak bluntly. “The incident happened not long after I left. Sophie had no way to protect herself.”