PSYCHOTIC LUCILLE

For a full minute Lucille didn’t move or show any indication that the finger of the enemy was against her, was pointing at her.

She stood, a blank expression on her face, as Legardo’s finger wavered—her reaction hadn't been what the man had expected—and then fell to his side. She watched him shift on his feet, watched him blankly as he barked out a nervous laughter and said “this one is a strong fellow, Sheila. It makes me wonder how the Emma is, you know the one you stupidly exiled…” Derek had his attention now.

But Lucille was perusing the man, surprised at herself that she could read the man’s powers, that she could tell it was mighty. Fayot had been right, this man was no ordinary werewolf—he must have involved himself in something dark and sinister.

She cocked her head to the side, and checked the powers on his feet and hands, his powers were in a better ration there than the others. She wondered if he could run as fast as her father or lifemate.

When she noticed that Legard