If anyone would be a desire demon in disguise, it would be Isabela. Fenris watched her for a few silent moments, but he couldn't reconcile the sense of familiarity with the sense of danger. If he knew where they were, the sense of danger might have won out - but then again, if he knew where they were, there likely wouldn't have been a sense of danger in the first place.

Fenris left the weapon on his back alone and straightened up. Fade or no, he was dangerous enough without it. "'Plucked from our homes'?" he repeated. "What does that mean?"