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Emma gave me a quick, worried glance, then pulled out her phone and ducked into the quiet of the storeroom.

It’d take Baldwin at least ten minutes to get here—if she could reach him. I needed to stall. I grabbed one of our largest pitchers and began to pull beer into it. Maybe we’d get lucky, and all they wanted was a drink.

Conrad and his shifters barreled through the crowd, pushing past anyone too slow to get out of their way.

He slapped a girl’s ass as he passed, making her jump and spin around, but his smirk only deepened when she didn’t dare say a word.

He didn’t apologize, didn’t even acknowledge her reaction—he just kept moving, shoving aside anyone who got too close.

His eyes scanned the room like he owned it, locking onto people with that sharp, predatory gaze.

The crowd thinned as some took that as a cue to leave.

As far as I was concerned, the quieter the better.

“Guys, they’re not interested.” I deliberately kept my tone light. “Their boyfriends will be here soon.”

Conrad ignored me, his hand brushing her arm, fingers lingering a little too long. “Trust me, he’ll understand when he sees you with someone like me.” He gestured to himself, like he genuinely thought he was God’s gift.

“That’s enough,” I said sharply, raising my voice. “You have two options. Drink your beers, find a table, keep to yourselves. Or get out.”

All four men snapped their attention to me, their posture shifting—immediate, predatory. Conrad growled, low in his chest, leaning on the bar to get in my face, his eyes glowing yellow as his wolf pushed to the surface.

This was fast getting out of hand. I wasn’t sure if it was Conrad being Conrad, or because it was Halloween. Both, maybe. Still, it was just posturing. He wouldn’t do anything, not with so many witnesses.

He tilted his head, savoring the space between us, his smile stretching into something more dangerous. “I don’t take orders from prey .”

Prey?

Okay. So maybe I was wrong.

His gaze locked on mine. The air between us turned tight and brittle, like one wrong word might shatter it.

It didn’t matter if Baldwin was on his way or not. It looked like I was on my own.

I clenched my jaw and stared Conrad down.

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, eyes never leaving mine.

I was vaguely conscious of Paul rising out of his seat and looking over. Even Kara watched quietly.

A rumble started in Conrad’s chest, a deep growl that grew in volume and menace. His eyes glowed brighter, the yellow eclipsing his brown irises. It was theatrics, trying to make me submit. As a wolf, the only thing he understood was dominance, making this a contest of wills, not power.

Lucky, really, as otherwise I stood no chance.

But unlike me, he had no way of knowing what he faced. Not even Paul knew I had powers.

Conrad had no way of knowing if I was a supe or a norm, if I was powerless or well beyond him. And as I held his gaze, I was running that bluff.

My power to sense the ability of others was unique—I was pretty sure of that, as I’d never found another with it, or heard of anything similar. But that was all it did. As powers went, it was nearly useless.

Having a second power was rare, but my other sat low in my chest, near-dormant, like a lump of black sludge that offered no benefit beyond slowing aging. I was in my mid-forties but looked twenty-five, doomed to socialize with immature, horny undergrads and never be taken seriously.

Power strength followed a bell curve, and with how weak both mine were, I rated barely more than human. Just the cards fate dealt.

Conrad was a typical midrange, but he could crush me in an instant, though he didn’t know it.

He’d only been in here a few times this semester, enough to show me what kind of person he was.

And it wasn’t like I wore a T-shirt saying, ‘I’m a supe with no powers’.

My preference was to fade into the background, like a third, unspoken power: an instinct to avoid getting noticed.

It wasn’t just my low powers that made it smart to stay off the radar.

Powers kicked in around adulthood—which was partly why students were so unstable—and before mine had, I’d been a foster kid.

Not unusual in New Providence, where supe parentage was often questionable.

But growing up in the system gave me a wariness of unwanted attention that had never left.

And yet here I was, bluffing my way through a standoff with an unstable werewolf in front of a bar full of witnesses.

Smart, Xan. Real smart.

The tension built, a silent battle as he tried to dominate me with his will. But there was nothing for him to push against; I just didn’t care. His attempts to intimidate me fell flat, and I let him know it with every inch of my posture, my stillness, the calm that seeped into my expression.

He snarled, eyes flickering with frustration as he searched for weakness. I gave him nothing. His growl deepened, but the more he pushed, the less it mattered. I treated his anger with the disdain it deserved, letting him feel how little it fazed me.

He was insecure, a bully, and I let him see exactly what I thought of him.

A flicker of doubt crossed his features—just a flicker, but it was there. His lips curled back in a grimace, a final, frustrated attempt to assert dominance. But the effort was half-hearted now, faltering. In that moment, he realized he’d lost.

And just like that, his yellow eyes dimmed to brown as he leaned back.

I gave him a small nod, a subtle acknowledgement of the battle we’d fought, and he ducked his head. He wouldn’t try that twice. Maybe he would calm down now.

Paul stepped forward. “Hey Conrad, that’s Xan you’re talking to. Don’t go picking on norms tonight.”

Well, shit. Thanks, Paul.

Conrad swung back to me, rage twisting his features. “You’re a norm ?”

“Er … well, technically, I’m—”

His hand shot out, clenching my T-shirt, and he yanked me over the bar with all his werewolf strength.

The shirt ripped, but that didn’t stop him.

I was airborne, and as I flew through the air, I had a brief instant to register Kara’s amusement and Paul’s shock.

I crashed into a table, shattering it, wood splintering and chairs knocked skittering away.

“Ow.” It came out in a pained grunt. My arm felt broken, my shoulder wrenched, and a large splinter of wood was embedded in my back. The metallic smell of my blood filled the air, obvious even to me. That wouldn’t help; it would only enrage Conrad.

“Calm down,” Paul said, taking another pace forward, his hand extended toward the wolves.

His fae aether lay thick in the air. It wasn’t the first time he’d talked supes down in my bar, but tonight was Halloween, and Conrad was riding his shifter magic—or it was riding him.

He gave a growl that curled his lip, a rumble that was full of his power, arriving as a howl that filled the whole bar.

All four weres howled as one, and the few remaining norms ran for the door.

Even the supes that lingered pressed back, watching with morbid fascination as Conrad and his wolves shifted.

Their clothing split as their backs arched, thick tufts of dark fur flowing over their skin, bones crunching and grinding as they broke and reformed themselves.

I’d seen weres shift before, and it never looked any less painful.

The two girls near the counter slipped away, sensible enough not to try to run, merging with the crowd at the sides of the room, their expressions filled with concern. For me, perhaps. That was nice.

Four snarling wolves prowled toward me, each as large as the couch in the apartment Paul and I shared. Conrad himself was in the center, his body covered in thick black fur, his lips pulled back, fangs long and razor-sharp.

They fanned out, shoulders bunching with each step, four sets of teeth ready to tear into me. Ten feet. Six.

Fuck . I’m gonna die.

“Stop!” I threw my good hand out instinctively, cradling my injured arm to my chest. My aether thrummed so hard it made me gasp, bursting up inside my chest in a way it had never done before. But what did it matter when it still couldn’t offer anything useful?

A whip of shadows lashed the nearest wolf, cracking through the air and knocking him into Conrad. Both went down, claws scrabbling on the floor of my bar as they fought to right themselves.

Kara leaped into their path, horns somehow larger, curling back over her head like armor, tail lashing the air. A nimbus of black aether flame surrounded her, visible to everyone, not just me. Her whip cracked against the floor before the wolves, making the nearest yelp and cower back.

Conrad righted himself, hackles up, eyes bright yellow with his power. He bunched his muscles and sprang for Kara’s throat, jaws opened, teeth bared.

She stepped forward, meeting him with her fist. He went flying, crashing into the mahogany bar, leaving a deep crack in the wood as he slumped to the ground.

“Bad puppies!” she cried, flicking her whip around her head to slash at the remaining wolves. “My master said stop!”

The silence that met this proclamation was louder than Conrad’s growl had been.

Kara turned toward me with deliberate movements, her body taut and ready to snap.

Her lips parted as if to speak, but then her breath hitched.

Surprise flickered in her eyes—glowing red, unmistakably inhuman—before they widened, pupils dilating with sudden horror.

Her jaw clenched, fists trembling at her sides, rage flaring beneath the surface, raw and unmistakable.

I was vaguely aware of the wolves slinking away, tails between their legs, giving Kara a wide berth as they headed for the door. Conrad scampered after them, not even glancing my way.

My gaze locked on Kara, her body stiff with fury, every inch of her vibrating with restrained violence.

“The fuck did you do?” she demanded, her tone more dangerous than Conrad’s had ever been. She took a step forward, raising her whip. “You dare use mind aether on me?”

My situation hadn’t improved.