That was probably a stupid idea. The threat level in the room just jumped from zero to eight. Maybe nine. Not ten, because nobody has attacked me. Yet. “Just so you know,” I say out loud, “anyone can choose not to hear me. I can’t force you to listen. You can block me out. I’m here to help, not to take charge.”Russel in particular still looks furious. Christy places her hand on his arm.“Think about this,” I say quickly, before someone tries taking a swing at me. “Haven’t you ever had to meet with a werewolf from another Pack to talk, when you’d much rather have been able to do it at a distance? Had times when things went bad because someone snapped and lashed out, mostly because the other person was right there in front of them? Or wanted to be able to talk to someone, couldn’t trust the

I’m avoiding the whole Werewolf King thing by ignoring it. I go to college, I work on my scent project for Accessibility, I get the camera figured out for Photography, I hang out with my Pack, I work, I go home to Sarah. The Pack have figured out that something’s not quite right, of course. I tell them it’s a werewolf thing. I need to tell them about it, but it’s a long term thing. It will wait a bit. I’d like to just forget about it for now. Sunday rolls around quickly, grey but dry and likely to stay that way. Overcast is good. Jade’s hoping she can join us, and sunshine would make that impossible. Other than being able to catch up with Jade, Sunday is something else I’ve been trying to put off in my mind. Until now, Sarah has been one little world for me, and the rest of the Pack has been a different one. Now they’re bumping into each other. I roll out of bed early, too keyed up to stay lying around an

We’ve been shopping for an hour and only Tom has bought anything. Behind me, I can hear Shelley and Tala in deep discussion about theology, ethics and morality. In front of me, Jade, Sarah and Reese are discussing martial arts in movies and how realistic they are. Or not. Because of that, I might finally believe that the Pack really will work. They’re just chatting, like friends. Sarah’s had some combat training, I’m pretty sure. She’s talking about it like someone who doesn’t just know the theory.I eye Tom, who’s scuffing along beside me. “So, how ‘bout that Chelsea transfer?” he asks.I know I’m squinting at him in puzzlement. “The what now?”“Football? Wait, American. Soccer?”&

“I don’t need a suit!” I squawk, and wince at how squeaky my voice comes out. I don’t need a suit. I really don’t. I don’t like the way the rest of the Pack is looking at me, either.“Oh yes,” breathes Reese.Tom is also giving it an admiring look. “Can’t fault the style.”“Very Bond,” Jade says, the first I’ve heard from her for a while. I wonder what it has to do with Sarah and I being Mates. Most humans don’t have a Mate Bond.

This was a test, I think to myself. Cavendish could have warned us that Sutcliffe was planning revenge. If he’s here, then he knew about this attack. Cavendish is probably telling the truth as well. Just not the whole truth. I doubt he has only one reason for anything he does. He wanted to know how we took out Whitfield. Now he’s rattled. We’ve impressed him. We might even have scared him. Scared people tend to try to kill whatever it is that scares them, so having him scared of us now? That's not good. He’s probably got his big guns along with him. I don’t think he’s the sort of person to take stupid risks. I carry on as if he’s telling the truth. Let him save face. Let his people see us be polite to them. I’m glad my sword has already put itself away. Without it, I don’t look dangerous. Not the way someone like my father or my brother does.