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“Wanna bet?” Regan muttered. “Anyway, I’ve already thanked him, and he needs to go.”

She took Lola’s arm and tried to pry her away, but her diminutive sister stood her ground. It was easy to forget how strong Lola was; she might be small, but underneath, she was as stubborn as a bulldozer.

Caleb stared at her and shrugged. “Regan’s already said her thanks.”

“Well, we would like to thank you, then.” Without waiting for a reply, Lola reached up and opened the cab door. Regan almost laughed. She was annoyed with Lola for pushing this—her baby sister was tenacious—but at the same time, she couldn’t help but be amused watching Caleb try to squirm away.

People always found it hard to say no to Lola, especially men. She had a sweetness about her that was impossible to refuse. God knows where it had come from—certainly not from their mother. It must be from her father, whoever he was. All her sisters had different fathers. Lola’s must have been a nice man, though she was sure that nice wasn’t something the Morrigan looked for in her mates.

Caleb obviously realized he wasn’t going to win this one. He sighed and stepped down from the cab, then glanced at Regan, who shrugged. She didn’t know what Lola was up to.

They both followed her into the house. Lola led them into the kitchen and started making coffee. The house was quiet, and Regan’s heart sank. She’d been desperately hoping that her hounds would be here to meet her. But they would have come bounding out by now. They hadn’t returned. Were they alive?

“Have you seen Diablo and Satan?” she asked her sisters.

Lola shook her head. “They never came back. But they’re fine, Regan, I promise. I don’t know where they are, but they’ll be back with you one day.”

“You’ve seen this?”

Lola nodded, and some of the tension drained from Regan. Of all the sisters, Lola saw the future most clearly. If she said her hounds were alive then somewhere, they must be alive. Did the werewolves have them? One more reason to find Ethan Stone and make him pay.

“Diablo and Satan?” Caleb’s question interrupted her thoughts.

Catrin answered. “They’re Regan’s”—she paused—“pet dogs. They went missing the same night she did.”

Regan turned to him. “Did you see them, Caleb? That night in the forest. They’re big, you couldn’t miss them.”

He shook his head. “I saw nothing else.”

Lola handed a mug of coffee to Caleb. “There’s cream and sugar on the counter.” She handed a second mug to Regan, who bent her head and breathed in the rich scent.

“Right,” Lola said brightly. “What have you two been up to?”

“I got bitten by a werewolf,” Regan replied.

Lola’s eyes widened. “I never saw that.” She studied Regan, head cocked to one side. “But you know, it would explain something I did see.” She cast a speculative glance at Caleb. “It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No!” They both spoke together.

“Good,” Lola said. “But you do know something about werewolves?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “A little.”

“So, are you going to stick around and help?” Catrin asked.

“No,” Regan snapped.

Catrin ignored her. “She’ll need you.”

He snorted. “She doesn’t need anybody.”

Regan decided it was time to step in. “No, I don’t.”

“See.”

“You’re wrong. She’s not as hard as she makes out.”

Caleb looked at Regan. She wiped all expression away and stared back.