Free Men of the Otherworld by Kelley Armstrong

Suddenly, the house appeared before us, as if a magician had yanked off the covering sheet and shouted “Ta-da!” A two-and-a-half-story stone wall spread as far as I could see. If it wasn't for the windows and gardens and front porch, I'd have mistaken it for some other kind of building. I'd never seen a house this big.
    When I stopped gawking, I noticed Jeremy watching me. He was smiling, not the forced smile he used with humans, but the crooked smile that crept up to his eyes.
    “We're home,” he said. “Welcome to Stonehaven.”
    As Jeremy pushed open the front door, his manner changed again. Tense now. Careful. He stepped into the hall, gaze darting from side to side. His nostrils flared, testing the air. I saw a flicker of movement from the shadowy hall. Jeremy saw it, too. Hebackpedaled out the door. A figure raced down the hall and barreled into Jeremy, plowing him backward and toppling them both off the porch and onto the grass.
    I saw only a blur of motion. Again, I didn't think. I launched myself onto the attacker's back and sank my teeth into his shoulder. The man yowled, reared up and reached back. One large hand grabbed me, lifted me into the air and swung me overhead. As I inhaled, I smelled what I'd come to recognize as the underlying scent of a werewolf.
    When I came down, I found myself looking into large brown eyes. I twisted, but couldn't get free. One glance at the man told me I wasn't getting free until he decided to set me free. He was almost a head shorter than Jeremy but twice as wide, and all the extra weight was in muscle.
    Despite his size, I couldn't resist one last-ditch effort. I pulled back my foot and kicked him in the chest, hard enough to send shock waves of pain through my foot. The man grunted, then started to laugh.
    “Big balls for such a little scrap,” he said.
    “Serves you right.”
    That was Jeremy. Twisting my head, I saw him sitting on the grass, retying one shoe. He didn't seem the least bit perturbed about my predicament. The man set me down. I growled at him, then lunged to hide behind Jeremy.
    “Bully,” Jeremy said, tucking in his shirt tails.
    “That's the boy?” the man asked.
    “I should hope so. I'd hate to think there was more than one.” Jeremy got to his feet and pulled me up by my hand. He pushed me forward. “This is Clayton. Clayton, meet Antonio.”
    The man grinned, flashing white teeth. He extended his hand. I backed up.
    “He doesn't do physical contact,” Jeremy said.
    “I see.” Antonio flashed another grin and looked me over. “Wild-looking little thing, isn't he? Clothing might help. I trust he was wearing some on the plane?”
    “Don't ask. We'd better get inside before he freezes.” Jeremy prodded me toward the door, then stopped. “He's not back yet, is he?”
    “House was locked tight when I got here. I was waiting for your call. You should have phoned from the airport.”
    “No need.”
    Jeremy led me into the house. The hall floor was cold stone, marble actually, though I wouldn't know that. I hightailed it through an adjoining door to a carpeted room. A long wooden table gleamed beneath a glass candelabrum. What caught my attention, though, were the plates and silverware set out at each place. Jeremy stood in the doorway. I reached over and tugged at his shirt.
    “Yes?”
    I pointed at the place settings and grunted.
    “Can he talk?” Antonio asked.
    “Can, but won't. Tell me what you want, Clayton.”
    I growled, stamped my foot and gestured at the dining room table. Antonio laughed.
    “Don't encourage him,” Jeremy said. “Talk, Clayton. Say what you want.”
    I growled again, but gave in. “Food. Want food.”
    “Ah, yes. Of course.” To Antonio, “He likes food.”
    Antonio grinned. “A boy after my own heart. Come on then, scrap. Let's raid the pantry.”
    Sometime later we were in another room, still eating. I'd refused to go with Antonio alone, so the three of us had gone to thekitchen, where I'd discovered