Kevin faced the predator, much more calm outwardly than he felt inwardly, especially without the reassuring strength of the circle to reinforce his own; the severing of the connection as the gate closed had been distinctly uncomfortable. The wolves flanked him on either side, both crouched with teeth bared and hackles raised, ready to attack. At least Jesse and his friend were leaving. "Back off," he said coldly. "These two are both under protection of Coven Sundark and our friends."

The thing that looked like a woman laughed, mockingly; Kevin blessed the fact that it was standing near enough to a metal-caged light over a back door that he could see it. "A pretty name. It has to be a children's coven." Its appearance rippled again, to a much less ordinary woman. This one looked perhaps thirty, darkly beautiful... if one could overlook the pointed teeth and clawed hands and eyes that were the flat black of oblivion, without iris or white. Those were not the eyes of anything that was alive in the normal sense of the word. Those eyes had nothing behind them except hunger—for the energy of emotion, creativity, and above all else, magic. "The dark one should be quite a treat. To be able to have one who normally could fight me... delicious."

"You'll have to go through us. I told you, they're under our protection."

"Perhaps I'll have you first. Your silly little coven-link only protects against the lesser ones, you know." It sauntered forward, reached towards Kevin.

Bryan snapped at the offending hand; had the predator's reflexes been less quick, he might have removed it altogether.

Kevin prayed that the wolves didn't have to fight; this predator was vastly unlike the nuisances he was familiar with, dangerous to the gifted but easily dealt with by a wolf.

Bane, his ears flat against his skull, advanced, snarling. An angry hundred-and-eighty-pound wolf was an intimidating creature; all the more so since his long dense fur, thickest around his neck, made him look still larger. Bryan angled his own approach to one side, to make it harder for it to track both at once.

The predator hesitated, fell back a step as though involuntarily, then another. Kevin thought it looked undecided.

It decided. It shifted its own shape to that of a tiger, grave-black stripes on the rusty-brown of dried blood, and lunged at Bryan.

He slipped agilely out of its way, and Bane attacked it from behind, teeth tearing a long scarlet stripe too shallow to hamstring it; it whipped around, hissing.

Kevin retreated so he had his back against the cool stability of a wall, watching the battle, switching alternately through various kinds of sight in order to keep track of it as they moved in and out of the light.

The wolves made a smooth team: one would distract it from in front while the other made an assault from the rear, then, when it turned, they traded roles. Claws raked down Bane's ribs, not deeply, but enough to make him yelp in pain; the yelp became a growl, and he circled around it, looking for an opening. Bryan ghosted in and was gone again before the tiger even had time to realize he'd scored another wound, just behind its ribs and low on its side. It spun around to go after him, chased him a few feet, and swiped at him with one huge forepaw; it connected with Bryan's shoulder, but the heavy fur deflected the worst of the damage. The blow knocked him off his feet, though, and the tiger paced towards him. Bane seized its tail in his jaws and crunched down, getting its attention and giving Bryan a heartbeat's time to find his feet and get out of reach.

Kevin reflected that it was obviously unused to dealing with multiple opponents: it allowed itself to be too easily distracted. The brothers, on the other hand, had a lifetime of teamwork behind them.

Bane, by skill or luck or more likely both, seized a foreleg in his jaws when it came sweeping towards him again. The sheer power pulled him off-balance, but he held on. Nothing Kevin knew of could make a werewolf let go unwillingly; the force of their grip was legendary in the mixed-race villages. The tiger, with rumbling growls of rage, snapped at him and shook its trapped foreleg.

Bryan slid up beside it, closed his teeth on the back of its neck, and bit down with his full strength.

The tiger made an untigerlike squeal, and went limp.

The wolves released it, and Bane sniffed at it to make sure it was dead.

It was: it faded to transparent, then vanished altogether. Back to whatever non-physical plane it came from.

Bane shook himself, gave his wounded side a few quick licks, then turned his attention to Bryan. Reassured that he was all right, he looked up expectantly at Kevin.

"Hold on. I know the usual predators wouldn't dare touch Jesse if they found him at all, and that the greater ones are rare... but I think I know a way to hide them magically. I talked to Tomas about it a while ago and he had some ideas. It won't hold forever, but maybe by then Jess'll heal enough to take care of himself. If we're really lucky, it might even protect Jess from ambient power so if he comes back to Haven, it won't hurt him. Are you okay for a few minutes?"

*Perfectly fine,* Bane assured him. Being a telepath was useful, Kevin reflected; it must be frustrating for wolves to be in a coven lacking one. *Nothing Gisela or Liam can't fix for us. Do what you can, I'd rather not repeat this. Moonwolf and Horned God, what a fight...* He didn't sound distressed, more satisfied.

Kevin turned his attention to tracking Jesse and his friend. Against the background of the city, overwhelmingly humans with little or no magic, Jesse was only a shadow. Something or someone seeking him would have to practically trip right over him to notice him at all, but since he knew what to look for and had that spider-silk connection as an extra hint, Kevin's search took only a moment. He held that pinpoint beacon in his mind while they left the alley. It wasn't easy to keep moving in that direction, when the streets didn't always run the most useful direction and they weren't sufficiently familiar with the terrain to be able to plan a route in advance. The wolves kept pace docilely on either side, like a couple of enormous dogs. In the darker areas between streetlights, he tangled a hand in the long thick fur of Bane's ruff, trusting the wolf to keep him from walking into anything. At moments, he sympathized deeply with Naomi.

Jesse and his friend stopped at a battered red brick house and circled around to the side to unlock a door. Kevin heard a deadbolt snap shut behind them.

Something tickled the back of his mind; he scanned the street intently, looking for heat patterns. An elf, to show a body temperature that hot; a mage, to have cast an illusion of absence that could keep the wolves from noticing; not a strong one given how effortlessly Kevin had seen through it. And he or she was watching Jesse and his friend with far too much interest.

"Mage," he murmured. "Across the street. I don't like how intent he is on Jess." What was an elvenmage doing here anyway, alone, without even any visible trace of a coven bond to offer passive protection? That seemed like an excessive gamble with predators. It probably didn't matter, though. The other mage's intentions did.

*I know how to handle mages.* Bane growled aloud, low in his throat, a warning.

"I know you do." Kevin collected power from the city lights around him, though it was a poor substitute for sunlight or moonlight or true firelight, and tossed it in the direction of the other mage. It landed neatly at the other mage's feet and shattered, the shards coalescing into a fiery phoenix visible only to mage-sight, the sparks dancing off the feathers spelling out his name. That there were at least a dozen named elven bloodlines seemed pointless to Kevin, since there was no such thing as a pure bloodline within a population so limited. However, his father's name was often associated with powerful mages, accurately or not. That was, in part, why he'd chosen to change his own last name from his mother's to his father's a couple of years before.

That information, in that form, should tell the other mage everything relevant—and that should be enough to allow this to end with a brief discussion. If there were ever circumstances in which a show of power were actually justified, this should count.

Right?

Right now, a wolfish pragmatism was probably the best approach. Just keep Jesse safe.

* * *

Patrick recoiled sharply, then turned a dark look at the source of the flashy challenge. That, clearly, was the mage whose presence he'd been tracking, before the crippled wolf had distracted him. A Lioren; it figured, arrogant bunch that they were, so certain they ruled the mixed villages by right of strength.

The mage across the street glowed with power as though it were the sun itself he wore like a cloak of light, almost eclipsing the heat-image of his presence. Patrick scowled. Worse, it was all his own, not so much as a trace of any kind of outside power tingeing it anywhere.

What right had this Lioren to such dazzling brilliance, when he himself had been born with scarcely enough of the mage-gift to be noticeable?

He'd found ways to even the odds, however, and if this braggart thought to meddle with his life, he'd learn that quickly.

*Excuse me.* The mindvoice dropped into his head with the clarity of diamond, precise and calm. *Do you mind? The two you're looking at are under the protection of my coven, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd just forget they exist.*

Under the protection of a coven? Both of them? The fairer one was simply human with no hint of power, hardly worth wasting any effort on. The darker one, on the other hand, intrigued him. A wolf, with such heavy damage psychically that any touch of magic would be sure to be unpleasant for him... how had he gotten into such a state?

Curiosity wasn't really worth a fight, was it?

Curiosity alone, no, but the tone of that Lioren mage's voice was another matter.

He snatched up the lingering power from the phoenix image, rewove it into a dragon of crimson and saffron and sooty black, and flung it back violently.

*You do not command me,* he hissed. *Mind your tongue.*

The Lioren mage's shock was so strong that it spilled over before being firmly reined in.

*I asked nicely,* the other said evenly, after a moment's silence. *I'm asking politely once more. They are under Coven Sundark's protection, and if need be we will fight, although I would prefer not to.*

*I do as I please! If I want that crippled little wolf to study, I'll have him!*

*He's not crippled!* The shout made him flinch in discomfort, laced as it was with hot blinding anger and no more controlled than a shotgun blast. Patrick cried out, in outrage and surprise as much as in pain, and hastily flung shields around himself. The effort made his breath catch, as nerves damaged by the attack protested, but he willed them strong and steady.

Want to fight, do you?

He pulled at the light of the streetlamps and coiled it into a tightly focused whip, bound into that form by his own fury. Viciously, he lashed it outwards across the vacant street, to flay the upstart where he stood.

It snapped against glassy-smooth shields, which scarcely trembled, then far too much happened far too quickly.

The shields winked out. Patrick blinked, tried to trace where the power used in those shields had gone, but there was no sign of it... surely no one could draw that much power back into himself so quickly without damage?

Something seized the whip, jolting him roughly out of his distraction, to discover that the Lioren mage had coiled the whip's far end around his wrist and was holding it firmly.

What in all the hells...

No more than three rapid heartbeats after the disappearance of the shields, a scorching flood of sheer raw power surged back along the whip, forcing the flow of his own magic into reverse before it, pouring into him.

For the space of another three fast heartbeats, he realized just how dizzyingly high a tolerance for power the Lioren mage had and the utter ecstasy of it, then it collapsed into the shrieking pain of severe backlash shock. Only distantly was he aware of it when the power flow abruptly reversed again. He swayed, and stumbled backwards to lean against a wall, trembling.

*Leave. Him. Alone.* Each word came out tightly, with anger and deadly power coiled behind it.

"You've made yourself an enemy," Patrick snarled aloud.

"So be it," said the cool light voice from across the street. "Just don't touch our friends."

He held still, watching, while the Lioren mage built shields around the dark little wolf and his companion. Clever shields, too, deftly created to deflect both detection and active magic, the shields themselves subtle and near invisible unless one knew where to look—designed to shunt senses and magic away, not counter them directly.

Light swirled and gathered into a gate; against it, he saw the silhouette of the Lioren mage and the two wolves flanking him, then they vanished through it, and the gate imploded neatly.

Showoff! No mage should be able to walk after pulling that, let alone be capable of gating!

Livid with humiliation and rage, he drew himself together and went in search of a place to sleep... one he'd have to pay for, he realized in disgust. His gifts would be of no use to him for some time to come. He didn't dare even summon his allies; in this condition, he'd be easy game for them.

I'll find you, Lioren and you'll regret ever starting this! Next time I'll be ready for you!

* * *

"Here they come," Flynn warned, a heartbeat before Kevin's familiar gate coalesced in the centre of the circle to bring the trio home. Kevin sank to his knees in front of Deanna and buried his face in her shoulder, shivering.

Deanna wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close. "What happened?"

The wolves shifted calmly to human, and Cynthia and Naomi moved quickly to examine what wounds they had, helping them strip off the magesilks for easier access.

"Mage-fight," Bane said.

"I lost my temper," Kevin said, pressing close against Deanna miserably. "He wasn't very strong at all, I backlashed him, might have burned him out completely, I don't know if I managed to pull it back fast enough..." He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, but couldn't find any more words.

"He was threatening Jesse," Bryan pointed out reasonably. "It's not like you just pounced him for no reason and with no warning."

"I still shouldn't have lost control!"

"Kev," Cynthia said gently, laying a slim pale hand over Bane's rib-scores; the bleeding gradually slowed, as she hurried the clotting process as much as she could. Not a lot, she was witch, not healer, but enough. "You are nothing like what you were when Dia hauled you away from Rebecca. You've done better than anyone expected at learning how to keep your temper under control, and you've done it much faster. One mistake, under provocation like that, isn't the end of the world."

"Bryan said you warned him first," Lori said. "And it's not like he could have been unaware of how strong you are. If he persisted, then he made his own choice and took his chances."

"I might have burned out his gifts totally. That's kind of a steep penalty for being obnoxious, don't you think?"

"No," Bane said, unruffled. "I don't. We decided to protect Jesse, and we did. Leave it at that, phoenix. You're tired, most of that power you were using was pure adrenaline and there wasn't much light to back it up. That's making things look worse than they are. Someone take down the circle."

Deanna simply grounded the raised power directly into the earth, while Cynthia did a hastier than normal thanks-and-dismissal of the summoned elements. As the support of the circle faded, Flynn sagged forward, then let himself sprawl on the carpeted floor, clearly worn out.

"Dia, get Kev to bed?" Cynthia requested. "I'll call Gisela and Liam and then get Flynn into bed. Lori, can you find Kev and Flynn and yourself something to eat? Naomi, can you keep an eye on the wolves and keep doing what you can? You're better at healing than I am anyway."

Lori headed for the kitchen, and Naomi only nodded, still examining Bryan with witch-senses and touch for other damage. Deanna urged Kevin to his feet and up the stairs to his room.

"Stay?" Kevin said pleadingly, as she swiftly stripped his shirt and jeans off.

"I intended to." She wriggled out of her own clothes equally quickly.

By then, Lori brought a couple of sandwiches, one of Kevin's home-made brownies and a glass of juice—she said nothing, but the support and reassurance and love she was radiating were clearer than words could have been, between two telepaths. Kevin looked at the food without appetite, but obediently ate, not really tasting it; his rapid metabolism made it too dangerous to sleep without a start on replacing what he'd just used. There was no way Deanna and Lori would let him risk it, regardless of how little he wanted food right now. Only once he'd finished it did Lori leave quietly with the dishes.

Deanna curled up with him in his bed, tucking the blankets around him, automatically making sure that her somewhat cooler body was less completely covered. He snuggled closer, resting his head on her shoulder, still trembling.

"I hurt him bad," he whispered. "And I attacked first."

"Shh. Go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow." She stroked a hand lightly, repeatedly, over his hair and down his back. "I know, Kev, I know, but let it be for now, sleep."

Even with Deanna's comfort, it took him a long time to fall asleep.