In lynx form she hadn’t cared, but as a human she was struck by how handsome he was. All the Fallons had clean, golden good looks. Even their skin was burnished with a golden tint, as if lit by the sun.

And beneath that pretty skin beats the cold heart of a killer. Don’t forget that.

Roger didn’t leer or check her out. He kept his eyes politely on her face, not even flicking them aside to the wasp stings that must still be visible. He looked so friendly, so reasonable, sonormal. Not like a murderer at all.

All a lie. Don’t forget it.

“I would have invited you in somewhere warmer, but I didn’t think you’d come,” he said through that welcoming smile.

“You got that right,” she spat. It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that she realized the depth of her anger.

She had never felt anger like this before. It was a rage so great that it seemed to have its own reality, like another entity dwelling inside her.

This man, this handsome smiling man, had lured her friend to this island, killed her, and left her bones lying in a cave like those of an animal.

He’d smiled at Casey and lied to her face for months, treating her like a valued employee and even a friend, and all the while knowing,knowingthat he’d murdered her roommate, that he’d murdered others, that he planned to kill again?—

Her hands were shaking.

“I can see you’re getting worked up,” Roger said, holding his hands up. “Before you get too stressed, listen to me. You don’t understand what’s going on here, Casey. You were never in danger, not really. This is a test.”

“A ... test?” she repeated, derailed from her anger by a wave of confusion.

“I suppose you could think of it as an audition, of sorts. How do you think we test out new people for the upper levels of management?”

Casey stared at him. The words were English; the tone of voice was polite and calm. But there was no sense in anything he said.

“This is a ... ajob interview?”

“You can think of it that way.” Roger took a cautious, barefoot step toward her; she froze on the verge of flight, and he stopped, too. One step closer.

“But that’s ... that’s justnuts. You don’t take people out in the woods and hunt them to see if they qualify for a promotion!”

“All shifters have their own ways of doing things.” That salesman smile. So friendly. So reasonable. “This is ours. Usually, only lions can be promoted to the highest levels of our company. But you’re something special. No one has ever done as well as you and your big ursine friend. Where is he, anyway?”

Jack. The thought of Jack jolted her out of the lulling effect of Roger’s soothing voice and placating words. Jack certainly wasn’t going to accept any bullshit job offer. Jack was an SCB agent. He would put all of these people in prison as soon as look at them. In prison, where they belonged.

Roger’s figured out you’re hard to kill and he’s trying to buy you off. Don’t let him.

She conjured up a mental image of Wendy, like a talisman against Roger’s sweet, lying words. Wendy’s smile was her armor; Wendy’s laugh was her shield. Wendy, with her green-striped hair flung back, smiling on that park bench by the ocean, three days before she disappeared forever.

“What about Wendy?” she asked. “Did you make this same offer to her?”

“Wendy?” Roger said.

“Wendy Lebrun. She worked in the software division and went missing two years ago. Don’t tell me you don’t remember her, asshole. You faked a whole move to Colorado for her, put photos on Facebook and everything.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that last part,” Roger said. “That was probably Mara. She’s a whiz at that kind of thing.”

“Tell me you remember her, at least!”

He spread his hands again; an impatient crease appeared between his sculpted blond brows. “Casey, it’s not the past I want to talk about. It’s your future.”

The rage was growing in her again, swelling in her chest until it seemed she should be visibly puffing up with it. If she’d been in her feline body, all her fur would’ve stood on end. “Wendy isn’t the past. She was—No, sheismy friend, and she worked for you, and you killed her. At least have the decency to tell me you remember her fuckingname!”

The last word emerged in a scream, and she had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

“There’s nothing to gain from getting emotional,” Roger said. His white-toothed salesman’s smile had become somewhat fixed. “Yes, the name rings a bell. She wasn’t anything like your caliber, though. No sense of strategy at all.”