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The warrior stared for another moment, then simply turned and strolled out of the place.

A pair of bright yellow eyes with slivered pupils stared back at Dante from his flat-screen computer monitor. The beast’s mouth was dropped open, lips curled back from a fairly impressive set of fangs. It was a look of hissing fury, but the caption beneath the photograph described the subject as a sweet and cuddly diva who would love to go home with you today.

“Jesus,” Dante murmured, repulsed. He saw enough of that spitting, feral look every night he spent topside, hunting Rogues.

Hell, sometimes he saw the same hideousness reflected in his own mirror, when blood hunger, lust, or rage brought out his primal nature. Pain from his nightmare visions often did the trick too: slitting his pupils, turning his light brown eyes to fiery amber, and stretching his fangs out from his gums.

He’d had another one of those hellish dreams just today. It woke him out of a dead sleep around noon and left him sweating and shaky for several hours afterward. The damn things were getting more frequent lately, more intense. And the splintering headaches they left in their wake were real ass-kickers.

Dante nudged the wireless mouse next to his keyboard, scrolling past the Felines category to the Canines. He clicked the button to bring up the inventory of available animals, then did a quick scan through the photos. A few looked promising for his purposes, in particular a sad-faced hound named Barney who was in need of special care and dreaming of a nice place to spend the last of his golden years.

That ought to work. He certainly wasn’t looking for anything long term.

Dante flipped open his cell phone and dialed the shelter’s number. A gum-smacking young woman with a thick Boston accent picked up on about the fifth ring.

“Eastside Small Animal Rescue, can I help you?”

“I need one of your animals,” Dante told her.

“Excuse me?”

“The dog from your website, the old one. I want it.”

There was a beat of silence, then a loud crack of the girl’s gum. “Oh! You mean Baah-ney?”

“Yes, that one.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but he’s been adopted. Is he still on our front page? They must have forgotten to update the website for him. What kind of dog are you looking for? We have several others who need good homes.”

“I need an animal tonight.”

She gave an uncertain little laugh. “Um, that’s not really how we work. We’d need you to come in and fill out an application, and then meet with one of our—”

“I can pay.”

“Well, that’s fine, because we do require a small donation to help cover treatment and—”

“Would a hundred dollars suffice?”

“Er…”

“Two?” he asked, not really caring what it cost. “It’s very important to me.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m, uh…I’m getting that idea.”

Dante lowered his voice and focused on the pliable human mind at the other end of the telephone connection. “Help me out here. I really need one of your animals. Now, let’s give it some thought, and you tell me what it’s going to take to make this happen.”

She hesitated for a long few seconds, then, “Look, I could totally get fired for this, but we do have a dog that just came in today. He hasn’t even been examined yet, but he doesn’t seem like he’s in the best shape. And I’ll be honest with you, he’s not much to look at either. We don’t have space for him right now, so he’s actually on the list for euthanasia in the morning.”

“I’ll take him.” Dante checked the time. It was just past five o’clock, already dark topside, thanks to New England sitting on the front end of the Eastern Time Zone. Harvard wouldn’t be showing up at the compound for another four hours. Plenty of time for him to complete this little transaction before he had to link up with the agent for the night’s patrol. He stood up, grabbing his coat and keys. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Okay. We close at five-thirty, but I’ll wait for ya. Just come around back and ask for Rose. That’s me.” She cracked her