Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe After night I do crowd And with night will go -William Blake

PROLOGUE
Althea Backlund strode into the summit meeting at least an hour late. Her booted heels created warm echoes on Tstil Mansions hardwood flooring. A parlor, decorated to the exact details of how the room existed in the early nineteenth century, spread out before her in shadowy lamplight. The two other pack Alphas in attendance occupied different corners of the well-appointed room. Nathaniel Poole sat calmly smoking a cigarette on an oxblood couch, while Jackson Harper busied himself in hushed conversation with several of his subordinates. The air smelled of oily pine thanks to a burning fireplace at the far end of the parlor. The odor made Altheas nose tingle. She brushed the irritation aside, focused on making a proper entrance. In ages past this occasion demanded formal attire and adherence to a strict hierarchical code. Today, what passed for formal garb were Pooles v-neck Merino wool sweater and Harpers rumpled blue blazer. Jackson was the oldest and longest tenured Alpha present. Members of his pack called him simply Jack or Old Wolf. This was not born from a place of disrespect. In his advanced age and diminishing hairline, Harper had grown tired of the formalities of pack life. No member of his pack had addressed him as Alpha in at least ten years. For her part, Althea appeared as if she just walked in from a long motorcycle ride. A tight-fitting leather jacket clung to her waistline above burlesque style leather chaps. Her face was simultaneously regal and devilish as she tossed long dark hair away from her eyes. If there was a patch of midnight considered the most attractive and still as deadly, it was Althea Backlund. She wasnt the first female Alpha to participate in a summit meeting of this type, but she might be the first to call the meet herself. She was the aggressor here exactly the way she liked it. So glad you could make it to your own meeting, Poole said while twisting his cigarette into a glass ashtray. Harper looked sidelong across his wide frame in the direction of Pooles voice. He didnt formally acknowledge Althea. Jacks pack members in attendance did enough of that with baleful stares and rigid postures. Althea soaked in the rancor like a warm bath as she sank into a leather chair next to the fire. One booted leg crossed over the other and bounced playfully. Gentlemen this is no way to greet a lady, she said. Are we not observing proper decorum at this summit meeting? It would be a shame to win my claim on a technicality. Your gender is the least of our concerns, Harper said finally turning to address Althea. His voice matched his frame squat and filled with too much Scotch. The stark white stubble about his face stood in contrast to Pooles closely tended black beard. Althea was about to respond to Jacksons statement when heavy footfalls came from one of the parlors adjoining rooms. Remy Cairns, clad as ever in his truckers hat and mechanics coveralls, shambled over to stand by Poole, his Alpha. Perimeter is secure boss, he drawled. You were right. She came alone. Of course I did, Althea said indignantly. We all know what happens to Demos City if any harm should come to me. There will be fire. Even you have to admit its tempting, Poole said with a rare smile. We could dispatch you easily and make up any story we wanted afterwards. Remy cracked his knuckles in approval. Thats enough. Harper grumbled his way into the center of the parlor. Flickers of flame from the fire took turns obscuring his weathered features and lending them an eerie glow.

You look so angry Jackson, Althea said watching the man. I am only exercising my rights. You would do the same in my place. Demos City is not yours to claim, Harper growled. The hostility in Jacks body language read all over his attending pack members. One of them, a slick-looking man made of nothing but ropy muscle, took a step towards his Old Wolf in a show of support. That city is our home, he said to Althea. Theres no room for your pack there. Be quiet Paul, Harper said in irritation. You will speak to me or to no one at all. I dont care if you dont like the rules; you will damn well abide by them. Keep that Beta of yours in his little corner, Althea commented with a giggle. It seems hes as much a brick on the inside as he is on the outside. Lets keep our focus here, Nathaniel Poole said interjecting. Each Alpha present knows the rules of order. State the claims and lets get on with the proceedings. You both consented to my arbitration for this summit. Now, lets see some measure of obedience. He edged himself forward, but appeared unwilling to stand up from his seat on the antique couch. Poole was enjoying his moment of respite and wanted to hold on to it as long as possible. Althea didnt bother waiting for Poole or Harper to announce title or claim before jumping the queue. By rights, being the oldest ranking leader at the summit meeting obliged Harper to speak first. Althea was tired of wasting time. I am Althea Backlund, she began. I am First of the wolves of Charlotte and Columbia. I seek claim to Demos City by right of numbers. Jack nearly spat on the hardwood flooring in disgust as Althea laid a claim against his city. The old Alpha could feel familiar fangs growing behind his lips. He answered, Im Jackson Harper, who is First of Demos City. You can go to hell little girl before I give you my town. It doesnt matter to me how big your pack is, thats not my problem. Take your extra numbers elsewhere. Now it was Pooles turn to stand. He glanced longingly at the comfortable, warm seat he had to give up to quell the parlors blistering tensions. Nathaniel said, Nathaniel Poole, who is First of Richmond, requests both of you to calm the fuck down. Backlund, make your offer. Althea folded her arms across her chest and threw a smirk towards Harper. She wore the look of a child whod just ended up on the right side of a parents scolding. Harper stewed where he stood, reached into his blazer for a handkerchief to dab beads of sweat from his brow. In exchange for rights to settle in Demos City, Althea said her hands sliding to her hips. My pack will extend you personal estates in North and South Carolina. We will also provide your pack members in Demos City ninety days to relocate to territories better suited for your smaller numbers. Harper nearly choked on his own air at the absurdity of Altheas opening offer. He morphed the sour taste in his throat into a cough that he was eventually able to congeal into words. Do you realize the number of wolves youre talking about? he asked. What you call a small population is still in the thousands. These are real people, young lady. My wolves are not just pieces in some game youre playing. They have lives and families. You cant ask them to pick up and leave simply because your pack has grown too big for its own shoes. I wont allow it. You cant stop me. I hope youre convinced of that, Harpers voice seeped foreboding. Once you start this, Althea, you wont be able to back away from it. Consider the lives youre putting at risk. Althea tapped a finger against her plump lower lip; her eyes looked past Harper to his four pack members standing behind him. For a moment, she seemed to consider Jacksons words of caution legitimately. A stray burning ember from the fire popped its way across the wooden floor. The Alpha kicked the smoldering bit of wood back to the flames with a flick of her booted foot. Her eyes lingered on that spot a moment before turning back to Harper. My late father ruled with a simple dictum, Althea said. The needs of the many always outweigh the needs of the few. That is how I choose to rule. My pack members support me in this action, but tell me Jackson, will your followers support you when my wolves come for Demos City? Be ready. Althea did not give the elder Alpha an opportunity to answer her question. Without a look to either Jackson or Poole, she walked calmly from the parlor towards the mansions front door. Her chest

filled with a fuzzy effervescence as she strutted away. She made the entrance she wanted, and now she was making her exit at the opportune moment. Jackson Harper threw up his hands, made a motion to his pack members as if to tell them to prepare for departure. Poole could only shrug his shoulders, fish in his pants pocket for his cigarettes. In minutes, the sound of a motorcycle engine roaring away from the mansion echoed into the night. That, by all accounts, concluded the summit meeting. Did you expect it to go any differently? Poole asked Harper. Her father was the same way. With Althea gone, Jackson undid the top button on his rage. The extra room allowed him the freedom to stomp around Tstil Mansions parlor, wring his hands and generally make sweeping gestures that punctuated nonsensical mumbling. Harper dismissed his remaining pack members, as he went, making sure each member filed out of the parlor in quick order. The furious milling about culminated in the Alpha grabbing up an antique vase from a corner of the parlor and whipping it end over end into the fireplace. Shards of porcelain flew in every direction, Black-eyed Susans burned alive. The rush of air from the fire blew out Pooles lighter as he attempted to spark his cigarette. He frowned, held the cigarette between two fingers and made a lazy calming gesture towards Harper. All better now? Poole asked in a mock show of concern. Shes right you know, Harper said with slumping shoulders. I dont have the wolves to turn her away if she tries to take the city. Oh, well fight sure, but well lose. Men and women will die. With Althea gone, Harpers hard faade fell away as dead leaves in a stiff winter wind. Could be, said Poole looking thoughtfully at his unlit cigarette. Shell take the city from you unless your pack has help. Harper stopped his stomping as the effect of Pooles words hit home in the center of his brain responsible for dastardly alliances. He abruptly crossed the parlor to Poole and came so close to the Alpha that Remy nearly moved to step between them -- no one came within arms reach of Poole while Remy was on the job. What are you proposing Nathaniel? Harper asked eagerly. His manner was just a little too eager for Nathaniels liking. Slow down Jackson, Poole said tapping his cigarette against the Old Wolfs shoulder. Demos City is just as valuable to me as it is to you. Ive only just founded a satellite of my shipping business there, remember? Yes, after obtaining proper permission from me. So? Poole smiled, wrapped an arm around Jacksons wide shoulders and led the Alpha in a slow lap around the parlor. The last thing I want is to see my distribution network destroyed due to some frivolous pack war, Poole began. Thats bad for business. Keeping Althea and her healthy band of wolves from taking the city is the better financial move. So youre proposing an alliance then? Harper asked with a cocked eye. Poole stopped the twoman process in front of the fireplace. The fires warmth fell over the backs of both men. Harper looked older than he should in the orange and red light. Poole found it difficult to gauge how much fight actually remained in the wolf despite his tantrum moments earlier. Im not proposing an alliance in the traditional sense, Poole explained. Werewolf blood running through the streets of Demos City is not the best means to solve this conflict. Then what the hell are you proposing exactly? Harper puffed. Poole finally took a moment to light his cigarette. The smell of sulfur wafted up Jacksons nose, mingled with the pine smells from the fire. Poole took a long, almost sexual drag from his newly lit cigarette. His exhale was equally slow, filled with self-assurance. Dont worry Jackson, Poole said with wisps of smoke escaping from his nostrils and mouth. I have a plan to deal with Althea Backlund. Shell regret the day she ever tried to set foot in Demos City. I guarantee it.

ONE
Seven Months Later

Another damn dead end, I said staring at the stack of files in Daveys arms. Why the hell do we keep coming down here? No need for swearing, Leon. Its here somewhere, countered Hastings. Were just not looking in the right places. Ramirez told us to look here for a reason. Davey flipped through his stack of public court records as if he could make what he sought magically appear there. A stiff autumn breeze nearly blew the whole stack out of the reporters hands at least twice. Fall was in full swing here in Demos City. Thanksgiving leftovers were still in Tupperware containers in the fridge and already capitol buildings were sporting Christmas colors. Demos Superior Court where we stood was the only unadorned building in the tight cluster of official structures in the center of downtown. Hastings, clad in a dark pea coat and scarf, looked out from the courthouse to a small park that sat across the street. His crisp blue eyes mirrored the chill in the air, betrayed a hint of dread at what he saw: Demos City had its own Occupy Wall Street offshoot and the local media was eating it up. The protestors, hundreds of them, have been hanging around the capitol buildings for weeks. Its not that I dont support them when greedy corporations and politicians run off with millions someone has to say something its just they make the downtown commute a living nightmare of beeping horns, racial slurs and insane political rhetoric. That type of environment gets old fast especially when we have to fight through them every damn time we come down here. Police clad in partial riot gear milled at the periphery of the throng. The fervent speeches against evil executives and politicians were beginning to give way to general mischief and acting out. Thats all the cops would need to start slapping cuffs and dragging people away. Meanwhile, lawmakers, lobbyists and financial types took the long way to work. The only population the protestors were inconveniencing was the squirrels attempting to forage through the park for the coming winter. Those furry bastards were growing bolder by the day. When are we supposed to hear from Ramirez? I asked. Hastings shrugged his shoulders. Alameda Ramirez, our employer, was good about making sure the paychecks arrived on time, but when it came to continuous contact, the guy might as well be an imaginary friend. The lack of contact was starting to make me lazy. Hastings had all the information, and I was ironically feeling like the same kind of dumb muscle I was when I worked for Jenny at The Dig. Well paid or not, when what people think of you remains the same, it starts to build resentment. Stereotypes arent unique to humans. Werewolves get them too. We should go, Hastings was more thinking aloud than actually talking to me. He started down the courthouse steps at a methodical pace. His leg was still bothering him months after the shooting at the Crown Hotel. His father had thrown the best doctors available at the problem, but the nerve pain continued. I had my own hunch, but guilt kept my mouth shut. Davey took that bullet for me. It wasnt right for me to tell him how to deal with the effects of that injury. The cops gave us wary looks as we passed the edge of the park. Nothing much had changed since the Front Street incident. With Hastings sitting on his story to find bigger fish, there was no way of knowing which cops in the Demos PD were on the take. I hadnt heard from Special Agent Sills in months. Maybe I could take a look at those papers, I offered to Hastings as we walked. Give it some fresh eyes; see if I can turn up anything youve missed. Im the investigative reporter here, remember? Hastings asked rhetorically. Weve each been given tasks to perform. Your job is security. Mine is apparently the more complicated of the two. Now, that rubbed me the wrong damn way. Months ago, Ramirez gave us a list of names with instructions to determine the whereabouts of every person appearing on it. None of the names looked like anything special to me, but finding anyone in Demos City who matched up was proving difficult to impossible. So far, wed turned up zero results with Hastings at the research helm. I stopped walking,

stared after Hastings in irritated amazement. The reporter didnt notice I wasnt next to him for at least fifteen more feet. He wasnt paying attention to anything around him. He turned sidelong, looked at me like an impatient parent with their kid at the mall. Is there a problem? Hastings asked. I laughed because that was the safest thing for me to do. I must be getting old, I said. The last man who decided to pull that uptight-educated-prick act with me sure as hell wasnt standing very long. Everythings coming out wrong, said Hastings clutching the files to his chest. Its the pain medication they have me on. I say things as though I have no filter. My father would die from embarrassment to see me like this. I dont expect you to understand. You get to live by your own rules. His eyes looked past me towards the park. The sounds from the crowd were growing louder. Each swell and crash in the volume read as bomb blasts over Hastings face. His free hand rubbed his leg. Listen buddy, I called to him, You seem capable of taking care of yourself. Until you find anything in those files, you dont need me watching your back. Give me a call when something in there turns up. Ill take a cab home. I caught sight of Hastings shaking himself out of his fugue, but it was too late. I was already walking away back towards the park. I didnt mean it like that, I heard him saying. Im sorry! Ill call you when I have some concrete information. Ahead, Demos PD were beginning their crackdown on the protestors. A reddish brown mist hung in the air in several spots pepper spray. The protestors were remaining unified, chanting politicized slogans in unison as the cops were dragging people into the street in zip-ties and handcuffs. They laid them face down on the concrete. My heightened senses could detect them breathing terribly, wringing bound hands through the pepper sprays painful effects. Several black SUVs screeched into view, clogging up the street in front of the capitol buildings. I recognized the officers who piled out of the vehicles: Tactical Werewolf Division agents clad in fully sealed riot gear. They carried combat shotguns. That meant wolves were among the crowd, screaming right alongside the humans. I drew my face down into my jacket as I passed the chaotic scene, kept right on walking.

TWO
Gray

My cab ride home ended with the sight of Brad Morrow tearing ass out of Water Terrace Apartments. He tumbled onto the sidewalk in front of me. If I hadnt stepped onto the street when I did, the kid wouldve kept on skidding into traffic. The cab driver took the opportunity to speed away without an offer to make change for the fare. I glared after the cabs bumper, knelt down to check on the curtain rod of a teen. Shaunas best friend was red in the cheeks and puffy, but otherwise unharmed. Hi Mr. Gray, Brad said lifting his auburn head up. Shaunas having one of her episodes again. It really wasnt my fault this time, I swear. Youre forgetting something, I said hoisting him up by a freckled arm. Shaunas on her way to being a woman now. The days of you being right are long gone. Better hurry in there, Brad said as he straightened his hooded sweatshirt. She was barely keeping it together when I had to run. She might tear the whole apartment down this time. Great, I broke into a run without another word. The two flights of stairs leading up to my apartment blinked past in the longest seconds ever recorded. Prickly bubbles of nervousness careened through my chest as I reached my apartment door. No sound came from within. That isnt necessarily a bad sign. Shauna could have herself under control and simply be trying to take a nap or braid her hair or kill a rabbit with her bare hands. Stay calm, Leon. She may need you to help her mind come back. Across the open-air hallway, Cyrus Landry poked his head out from his own apartment. Hes holding a phone in one hand and the doorknob in the other. At least the retired detective didnt think to grab a pistol. Leon, thank God youre here, Cyrus said in a harsh whisper. The way that boy flew out of your apartment I knew something was wrong. Your girls really having a tough time growing into her new self. Ive got this under control, I said. Dont bother calling an ambulance. If shit really does hit the fan, a hospital wont do her any good. Its damn near impossible to get a werewolf in full bestial form to fit into the back of an emergency vehicle. Thats not factoring in all the violence that would most likely ensue leading up to that. Cyrus disappeared back into his apartment, left his door open as I turned to open mine. The tangy flavors of sweat and an angry kind of hunger raked an elbow across my nose as I entered. I prepared myself for anything: to see my daughter unable to bring her human mind back from her bestial self or enraged into a stalking lust where anything that moved was prey. What caught me by surprise was how normal the apartment looked. All the furniture was in one piece, no claw marks were in the walls and Shauna was sitting as calm as a monk in my recliner. She was even reading some gossip magazine. Yet, the telling scents remained in the air. Wheres Hastings? Shauna asked looking up from her reading. Arent you supposed to babysit him or something? Thats Mister Hastings, babydoll, I responded with squinted eyes. Saw Brad downstairs. You want to tell me why he ran out of here like the building was on fire? Who? Brad? He probably had to meet his Dad for something. You know Brad, always running away from things. Shauna gave a nervous laugh, turned a page in her magazine. Outwardly she appeared very much her teenage self, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. Her shirt was hanging a bit loose, and she wasnt wearing her usual Chuck Taylors. She was going through this size phase every article of clothing had to be some measure of form fitting. I supposed it was part of a continuing teenaged plan to leave me bald before I turned forty. That gave me an idea. Stand up, I said in my deepest, most commanding voice. Dad, stop being weird, Shauna said. Im comfortable right where I am. Shauna

God! she exclaimed throwing down her magazine. Fine, Im getting up okay? She stood, keeping her arms close to her sides. Shauna didnt fold her arms in disgust as she usually does when she disagreed with me. Whats wrong with your shirt? I asked. What? Its my softball t-shirt, she responded. The school gave them all to us when we won remember? Thats right. Shaunas softball team won a state championship. I was a solid ray of giddy stupid sunshine watching her on the mound, having idle conversations with college scouts pretending not to be college scouts. I actually had to shake my head to jostle my thoughts back into the present. Shauna thought that little comment would be sufficient to allow her escape. Oh, not this time. Dad has gotten wise to his daughters ninja tactics. Pride cometh before the werewolf teenager freaks out and eats some humans baby. Shaunas nonchalant attitude showed a chink in its armor. Her brown eyes strayed away from addressing me head on, dipped to the floor for just a second too long. Even when she righted her gaze, Shauna knew her cover was blown. Her lips pursed together like cars rear-ending each other as she moved her long hair to one side of her neck. She turned around. There, where a list of her teammates names should have been, was a long split down the center of the fabric. Some dark hairs from where her back sprouted wolf fur were still stuck to the opening. I split my Chucks open too, she said to the recliner. Youre not mad are you? Im proud of you for keeping it together, I said sweeping up a blanket from the couch. I draped it over her shoulders. Shauna shuddered, drew in a rickety breath. I heard Brad walk in before she did. That was a close one huh, Shauna? Brad asked. See, this is why you need to help with the winter play at school. Itll give you something to do. Shauna tilted her head up and over her shoulder towards me. Is that what started all this? I asked the room. Well not exactly, Brad continued. See, theres this boy whos in the cast Brad shut up! Shauna hissed. Its just some dumbass boy. Dont even say his name! Her skin was heating up. I could feel it radiating through the blanket. And human parents think a high school crush is dangerous territory for them to deal with? The torrent of new emotions can literally get someone killed where werewolf teens are concerned. The beast can easily beat past the guard of newly awakened wolves and rip into the Technicolor world. It was time for some quick parenting decisions. Brad, do me a favor, I said holding Shauna by the shoulders, call your Dad for a ride home. Shauna, I want you to start going to play practice with Brad after school. But Dad But first, I said overriding her, you and I are taking a trip outside the city to blow off some of that steam. Weve got to let some of the pressure out or youll never get yourself under control. Brad was already on his cell phone, talking to his father, the Army captain. I made a mental note to try to get to know the man better. Captain Morrow was nothing if not dependable. Lately I was thinking I could use more of that in my immediate circle. My Dad told me I should wait outside, Brad said heading for the door. Bye Shauna, Ill see you tomorrow at school? Yeah Brad, Ill be there, Shauna said weakly. She waited for her friend to leave before crumpling down into my recliner. She sobbed. I hate this, she said between staccato inhalations. I dont want to hurt anyone. I dont want to be a werewolf anymore. Take it away, please. I bent down towards her, brushed her hair away from her reddened eyes. I felt a pit filled with uselessness in my stomach. I know kiddo, I said. This is who we are. We have to be better than the humans. How am I ever going to get this under control? A thought occurred to me. The first useful thought Id had in at least a week. Your old mans going to help you out for once, I chuckled. Shauna mustered a smile. What are you going to do? she asked.

Im going to teach you the only thing my father taught me how to do, I said glancing towards the open front door. Im going to teach you how wolves hunt.

THREE
Gray

I neglected to mention to Shauna that prime hunting hours were in the scant couple before dawn. That was a tactical maneuver. I assumed there would be no getting my daughter out of bed at three in the morning, if she knew beforehand. To my surprise, Shauna woke me up. The beast was running her internal clock. It drove her to the hunt even as I fumbled through the kitchen for coffee, showered like a thing half-dead and failed to button my shirt correctly at least twice. My back protested with stiffness, each knee popped in agreement. Do you need me to drive? Shauna asked. My feet actually reach the pedals now. Make sure I dont forget the registration, I said sucking down a second cup for the road. State game wardens wont let us on grounds without them. The state has hunting grounds split between human territories and werewolf territories. Thats not racism, even though there are those who would disagree. The lands designated for werewolf hunting allow wolves to roam in full bestial form legally. At least there are some laws around here that recognize the beast is a part of us. Sometimes, the change is unavoidable. Sometimes, we just have to do it. These game lands are in place to ensure we can change our forms with minimal risk to humans. Put on another jacket, I said. Youll appreciate it when we finish up. What if I dont change when you do? Shauna asked pulling a red knit beanie onto her head. She looked so eager I was surprised she wasnt jumping up and down. Trust me, I said finishing a second cup of coffee. Once youre out there, the beast will take charge in a serious way. Good, I dont want to be left behind. Oh, and if I get blood on my clothes, its so your fault. Thirty minutes later, my Chevy C1500 was bouncing down an unpaved road up to a State Game Warden Checkpoint. A uniformed warden stepped out from the two-room building to check my credentials. He carried an impressive hunting rifle slung over his shoulder. Proving my werewolf heritage was a simple matter of scanning my drivers license and declaring Shauna as my daughter. No minors can enter state game lands of this type without adult supervision. He waived us through with minimal huffing and puffing after the standard handing over of safety pamphlets and declaring kill limits. Even in bestial form, werewolves must exhibit some form of control. My skin is itchy, declared Shauna looking at the darkened treetops. I hated the way that officer dude looked at me. Is that why you hate cops? Not exactly, I said pulling the truck to the edge of the tree line. Though looking at my daughter the wrong way is certainly on the list. What do we do now? she asked. Have to walk the rest of the way, I responded. Theres a changing station a couple hundred yards in. The first hints of pale light limned the thick treetops as we hiked up a dirt path into the woods. Ambient sounds of the land chirping birds, scurrying ground animals retreated as we advanced. Shauna watched her warm breath waft from her mouth. She took her red beanie off, shook her hair out. Why is it getting so hot? she asked. Its barely above freezing out here. Its the beast, I said watching her closely. Wed better hurry up. The change is almost on you. Shauna nodded. I could see her shaking, but not from the cold. She was excited, filled with an anxious energy. This is so cool. I can literally feel all the life out here, she said peering into the wooded depths, and I want it all. *

The beast rushes to the surface like a thrashing thing held under water. The breaths it takes are the electric notes of a world teeming with an alarm clock of sounds and smells. It arrives in pain, wet and barely used to how bright even the predawn hours steal into its predatory eyes. Its heart my heart pulls this pain close because its evidence, proof that its arrived at the surface. Its daughter my daughter slinks through the dark and green of the forest on two, then four legs. The beast moistens the air, takes in the earthy, acidic smells of excrement, sleeping things, meat, water and so much hunger. All the forest is a voracious eater, from the leaves that gobble the air to the jaws that open raw flesh. It sorts the prey from the bark, the grasses and the stink of manmade things. The beast takes my limbs, our limbs, in loping strides guided by scent and sound. The beast calls to its daughter who joins the heated chase. We are free. The hunt begins. * Then, something bad happened. I mean the kind of bad thats been known to generate headlines like father and daughter found torn apart in the woods. The kill, a rutting buck, was still hot in my jaws when the beast detected the scent of wolves that did not belong. All packs generate a unique scent. Werewolves throughout the globe learn these scents and can easily tell when foreign wolves enter territories not claimed as their own. Even Shauna could feel the intrusion as a pang within her bestial form. Her gore-drenched snout wrinkled as the unfamiliar scents forced their way upward. She bared milky-white fangs, rose with flattened ears towards the tree lines edge. The bucks opened carcass still steamed with a life only minutes departed. I kicked the human half of me awake, willed my distant higher reasoning to push the beast in front of Shauna. The scents were strongest towards a clearing less than fifty yards from where we had brought down the deer. Sounds footfalls, conversation, ash, motor oil collided with one another. There had to be at least twenty-five of them out there. The beast wrestled with me to defend its territory. I watched Shaunas dark brown nose sniff the air repeatedly. Her amber colored eyes were slits looking into mine for approval. She wanted to charge into that clearing, open the throats of those intruders. She wouldnt move until I did if I did. Focus, Leon. Remember. My clawed hand, covered in the blackest fur, rested on the nape of Shaunas bestial neck. It was enough to hold her in place, give me time to focus my senses. In the clearing, they were talking. A womans voice said, Everyone better have their new names and IDs. There can be no mistakes. Relax, Althea. Were ready, said a mans deep baritone. That old fool wont know what fire to put out first. Tell me to relax again, she viciously cooed. And Ill leave you out here with a belly full of silver for the wardens to clean up. The woman mustve produced a weapon loaded with the caustic metal, because a strong whiff of it knifed through the trees as clear as a death knell. The beast wrestled with my human self for control of its lupine form. I held on, controlling feral limbs and salivating jaws by willpower alone. Shauna wasnt as practiced the beast easily slipped the chain. Her werewolf form strode into the clearing, howled a challenge to the gathered pack before I could pull her back behind the trees. Time tripped over itself, lost its sense of balance. Pack members in the clearing stood dumbly looking into the tree line after us. Shauna struggled in my grip. The beast wanted a fight. Then, the woman standing among them opened fire. Silver-cored rounds bit into surrounding trees sending bark and wood flying into the morning air. Shauna was no longer wrestling against my grip. The beast within her turned from fight to flight. She ran on powerful legs deeper into the game lands. I turned to follow her, caught the first scents of several pack members shifting their forms to pursue us. More bullets snapped through tree limbs. I felt one buzz past an ear. My long strides caught Shaunas smaller bestial form in seconds. There was no sign of human thought within her. The beast was completely in control riding her limbs to flee from danger. I could hear

the sounds of pounding strides not far behind us. I might outrun them, but I knew Shauna wouldnt stand a chance of escaping. The beast is never more deadly than when its protecting its child. Claws in my feet dug into the earth to slow me down. Shauna spun, turned back in my direction. I growled hard, raked my claws against a nearby tree to get her running again. She wouldnt go. Her pink tongue lolled out of her mouth as she heaved panting breaths. The beast within me smelled her terror. So would the fast-approaching wolves turned hunting party. Run! I wanted to say. Run or theyll kill you! Speech in this form is impossible. Holding on to conscious human thought is difficult enough. Shauna wouldnt budge no matter how much I growled or brandished my claws. She stood there, a young werewolf just getting to know her bestial form, waiting for what we could both hear breaking through the dense trees. The beast willed me to crouch, jaws opening in anticipation. The scent of the foreign wolves was unbearably strong. It churned a deep well of rage in me. I could hear the wolves fanning out, splitting up to cut off escape routes. We were dead. I knew that, but it didnt mean I wouldnt fight. If you bastards want my daughter, I thought, Youd better kill me first. When the first wolf broke through the trees, I was ready. I leapt through the air, caught the creature full in the chest as it tried to attack Shauna. The beast knows its opponents all too well. Wolves always try to bring down the weaker opponent first. The attacking werewolf tumbled through the underbrush, but recovered enough to charge again. Seconds later more werewolves were breaking through the trees, encircling us. I pressed my back against Shauna, roared in defiance, as the wolves prowled an ever-tightening pattern. Jaws snapped the air; menacing growls came from all sides. I felt Shauna nuzzle her snout into my back. Her nose moved past my fur, touched the warm skin above my spine. There was an abiding peace there. I didnt want her to die not like this. The beasts strength hummed through me. I readied to strike the nearest throat before the rest pounced. Then, a shrill whistle sang through the cold air. It pierced through bone, seemed to vibrate my very marrow. The sound consumed all my senses, smeared my vision like a brush swipe on an oil painting. I could also feel the beast receding, my human form reclaiming itself. That brought completely new dimensions of pain. When the whistle abated, and my senses were mine again, the werewolves were gone. Shauna and I were alone. She was in her human form, curled up, knees against her chest, at the trunk of a nearby black maple tree. The panic was slow in leaving my body. Shauna, are you okay? I asked. Did any of them hurt you? No, yes. I dont know, she replied distantly. Where did they come from? My head is killing me. I dont know, I said looking through the trees as if an answer would appear in the leaves. Whatever you do, dont turn around, she warned. This is so embarrassing. Whenever anyone says dont turn around thats the exact moment where you cant resist doing it. So, I did. It was a reflex, my body moving before my brain could get hold of the right levers. Shauna shrieked and ran behind the tree shed been sitting under. Whats the matter? I asked in ignorance. Dont just stand around. Weve got to get out of here in case those wolves come back. Dad, youre such an idiot! Shauna exclaimed. Do you even realize youre not wearing any clothes? This is seriously the worst day of my life! Oh, damn it! I reached for some nearby branches, tried to cover the offending areas. My entire body was warm again despite the cold. Our clothes were back at the changing station at least a mile off. All the life was still flowing back into my human perception. Information wouldnt process correctly for probably another hour. At least I could tell the sun was up. I grimaced at myself. Just another sad chapter in the continuing ruination of my daughters childhood. Leon Gray, father of the year. We dont have much choice, I said to the tree Shauna hid behind. We need to make it back to the changing station. Its not that far. What do you think I did when I changed your diaper as a baby, closed my eyes?

I dont care, she pouted. The embarrassment alone will kill me. Youd better walk in front of me and dont turn around ever! I rolled my eyes. Then said, Darlin, those werewolves out there will kill you for real if we dont move now. Why are they even here? she asked. Thats a big problem isnt it? Yep, I said as I started walking. And now Ive got to make it my damn business. At least something good came out of this, Shauna said grabbing up low-hanging tree branches. Whats that? Nearly dying totally got rid of my stress. Is that bad?

FOUR
Hastings

David Hastings heard the gunshot whenever his mind drifted, when he slept or found himself in a stressful situation. The burning seer of the bullets track through his leg returned each time. He told himself it wasnt real, that his mind was to blame. No conscious reassurance stopped his hyper-vigilance, his need to see an osteopathic specialist at least once a week. Every test came back with the same results the bone and all surrounding tissue had healed with no lasting damage. David Hastings was completely healthy. Seven months after the attempt on his life, he still didnt feel comfortable in his own home. Errant traffic noises, creaks from wood beams and footsteps still bothered him. The abrupt sound of doorbells ringing made his heart disregard all rhythm. Hed take more pills. Lately, he was running out well before the prescriptions were set to expire. The shuffling of doctors to keep the medicine coming in was becoming difficult. Theyd cut him off soon, if only to protect their medical licenses. Hastings turned the key to the front door of his three-floor Brownstone after looking both ways down the street. It seemed to David that the morning wind bit the hardest just as he pushed open the door and stole inside. The home had been in the Hastings family for over a hundred years. It was a gift to David from his father when he graduated from Northwestern. In truth, it was a lure by Benjamin Hastings to get his son to move back home. Once David had his writing position at The Examiner, he could hardly say no to a free house with an appreciating value in excess of seven figures. The neighbors were tobacco lobbyists. His living room looked largely unlived in. The high-end furniture gathered a thin layer of dust. The flat panel television hanging on the far wall hadnt seen the on position in months. David hadnt changed anything since he moved back in from his office cum studio apartment. The only new addition to the home was a wooden cane leaning in the archway that led to the kitchen. David hated using it despite the pain in his leg. He was a Hastings, and those men didnt wear their pain in public for all to see. The police had offered him professional counseling at the time of his shooting. David brushed them aside, but made a show of keeping some psychiatrists business card in his wallet just in case. Hastings shed his pea coat and scarf, draping them over a nearby leather club chair. He walked with purpose through his living room into the kitchen. Exposed brick walls soaked in the bright morning sun, gave the room a welcoming glow that David wasnt in the mood to appreciate. There were signs of recent use in here: breakfast island with a half-unpacked bag of groceries, opened stainless steel dishwasher containing various plates and cups. The reporter made a hard left towards a closed door that required a key for him to open. Once David opened the door and locked it behind him, he began to feel more at ease. A flick of a light switch revealed a basement finished to resemble a small office. This was the nerve center of Hastings work for Alameda Ramirez. All the usual trappings were present: a personal computer sitting atop a wooden desk, a couple bookshelves stocked with various texts and an old couch with a cotton blanket and a couple pillows. A thin, slatted window sitting at street level provided the only natural light. The dominant fixture in the basement, however was a large white board standing in its center. It stood ten feet wide and nearly as tall on rolling casters. On the board, David had the names of people contained in public record files circled with colored lines shooting in all directions. These lines connected to newspaper clippings, birth records and too many question marks. Smudge lines and faded marks littered the surface remnants of David changing his mind, and then changing it again. For every connection Hastings made on his board, another question presented itself. The stack of court documents hed brought home yesterday lay opened next to the computer monitor. David turned a wall-mounted thermostat up, took a seat in front of his desk. Each name on the list Ramirez gave to Hastings had been a Demos City resident at some point. Some were born in hospitals in the city, while others moved here to attend school. Hastings could find no records indicating where these people lived or went past the age of seventeen. It was as if theyd simply fallen off the grid, never gotten jobs and never pursued higher education beyond high school. David,

through some back channel connections cultivated through his fathers circles, had managed to unearth medical records for some of the names. If anyone found David in possession of those files, he could go to prison for violating half a dozen federal privacy statutes. It amazed the reporter what he was capable of when it came to unearthing the truth. Come on David, this is your job, Hastings said to himself. Think, what are you missing here? Think you idiot! It made no sense. The paperwork documenting these names -- addresses, school records, medical exams were all present in striking detail. Yet, nothing seemed to connect these people to one another. Hed even combed through missing persons reports to see if any of the names turned up to no avail. Seven months ago, Alameda Ramirez had promised Hastings bigger fish if hed hold off on publishing his story. Now, it appeared the only thing hed received in return was a bogus job, tracking a list filled with phantoms. The files from Lisa Milners flash drive sat in printed form on a corner of his desk. The files hed bled for, that cost so many lives. Hastings knew he could at least take down a couple assistant district attorneys, maybe even a police chief with just a couple pages from those files. His stomach churned at the thought of allowing bad men to continue doing equally terrible things. Hastings felt like a fool. For all he knew Ramirez could just be another hired hand, a clever operative working for those who wanted that evidence suppressed. This assignment kept Hastings chasing his own metaphorical tail. That was as good as any bullet for keeping the grimy details of Demos City politics underground. The reporter was shuffling papers on his desk when the sensation of his cell phone vibrating nearly knocked him out his chair. He pulled the device from his pocket, glanced at the faceplate it was a call hed been dreading. David, there you are! cried the cavalier voice of Mallory Prescott. Were waiting for you to check in at the office. Your sabbatical was up last week dear boy. Oh, hi Mallory, Hastings said while trying to calm his heartbeat. Sorry. Ive just been busy here at the house. I called in this morning to get my messages. Well have your column by the end of the week correct? the Editor-in-Chief asked. Absolutely. A lie. And youre certain? she asked. Just waiting to hear back from a source. Another lie. David could hear Mallory drum thickly manicured nails on a hard surface. She sighed, I know this has been hard for you. When I think about your injuries and all that bloodgoodness its just too much for my poor heart to bear! However, its time for you to get back to work with us here. Itll be good for you. Davids brain latched onto a single word in Mallorys odd pep talk: blood. The bleak sky in Davids brain became awash in sunlight. The clarity rattled out the darkness in him. That was it! That had to be it! The one thing hed forgotten to examine thoroughly. He needed to comb through the files again and he needed to do it now. Mallory I love you dearly, David said with renewed energy, but I have to go. See on you on Tuesday. He hung up and instantly dove into his pile of paperwork. He targeted medical records, combing through names Thomas P, Matthew V, Lindsay B, Greta M then Margaret O in search of repeat checkups, updates to records. Hastings kicked his legs, sent his office chair rolling to his massive white board where his eyes raced along black lines like highways zooming to birth records, names and photographs. Just when he thought he might actually be going insane, he caught it. There was a moment of doubt. He double-checked to be sure. Yes! Hastings couldnt believe hed missed for all these months. He laughed. Dr James Baird you crafty devil, David said through his laughter. How did you end up with a patient with two different blood types? One of the doctors patients arrived for a checkup at ten-yearsold with an AB blood type and came back at seventeen with a blood type of O-negative. Hastings thought he mightve stumbled upon this information earlier in his investigation, but dismissed it as a clerical error. Now, he realized it for what it was a costly slipup. The patient, Alison K, was the only patient in Davids medical files whod seen the same doctor more than once.

That mustve been the strategy, Hastings muttered to himself. Keep them moving around to limit the questions. He didnt know why or for what purpose. He only knew he finally had a breadcrumb to munch along the trail. James Baird was the person Hastings needed to track down. Elated to have news, David reached for his cell phone, pushed a speed dial for Leon. He felt a pang of regret at the way he acted yesterday, his churlish manner. He felt all that was behind him now. He would explain. Theres no way Leon wouldnt understand. He wasnt the sort of man or werewolf to hold grudges for very long. The phone rang twice, and then went to voicemail. Maybe Hastings was still inside Leon Grays grudge window. Leon its David, he said as the voicemail recorder beeped. Listen Ive got some important information. Give me a call. Hastings instantly felt the urge to redial and try again. He hated leaving messages that said, call me. The call itself implied the desire for a conversation. No one called just looking to speak to someones answering machine. No one David knew at any rate. Nervous energy continued to build. It was odd for Leon not to answer his cell phone. He was usually up at this time of morning to see Shauna off to school. Granted, the man promptly went back to bed, but he should at least have his cell phone on. Davids brain couldnt linger on the thought long. The basement was suddenly too small for all the breathing the reporter needed to do. Hastings needed more oxygen, more light than the space could provide. He folded medical documents containing the address of Dr James Baird into his back pocket and headed up the stairs. Hastings moved decisively through the house, kicked over his walking cane, and threw on his pea coat and scarf. He tried to leave his Brownstone three times. Each attempted escape he remembered hed forgotten something: his wallet, his keys, shoes. Hastings had only the vaguest notion of his destination as he walked the street towards his car. The chill in the air, the fickle whip of the wind didnt bother him. The cool air filling Davids lungs brought relief for the steady thumping through his limbs. It wasnt until he was driving and immersed in Demos City traffic that he noticed his leg wasnt bothering him and that the world wasnt a collection of malevolent noises. For at least this moment, Hastings felt in charge of the world around him. He held on to the sensation, tried to memorize it. A call came through on Davids cell phone. It was Jenny, Leons old employer at The Dig. Hey is Leon with you? she asked before Hastings could get out a greeting. My cars broken again and I need a ride into the bar. Have a vendor dropping off a liquor order early. No, I was actually hoping he might be with you, Hastings replied. Why would he be with me? Its like 8AM, Jenny said smugly. Anyway, can you swing by and give me a ride? Ill owe you one. Hastings could almost hear the lithe bartender batting her eyelashes. The day was really turning around all of the sudden. Now a pretty girl was asking him for help. David wondered what else could happen today if he just didnt say anything too stupid and continued to smile. Im actually not that far from you, David said. I can be there in about ten minutes. You, sir, are my new hero.

FIVE
Gray

A lone wolf can live anywhere he chooses outside of pack territory. Thats a funny rule considering werewolves have been around for thousands of years and packs have pretty much carved up all the available real estate. There might be some space on the ocean floor available if youre partial to holding your breath. This means a lone wolf needs to get permission from an areas controlling Alpha to take up residence in a given territory. A wolf risks his life, if the controlling pack discovers him living on their land without permission. Jackson Harper and I had an understanding when I first showed up in Demos City. I didnt want any trouble and Harper was tired of playing pack politics. As long as I kept my head down, he and I had no quarrel. Does everyone remember how that hired gun Rook sort of blew up a block of Front Street and nearly took down a multi-million dollar hotel project in the process? Yeah, that put a strain on the ol relationship between Jackson and me. We didnt have words, but I noticed his boys watching me more closely. Thats why Im not too thrilled to have to approach him about what went down at the state game lands. Its Jacksons territory so its his business to know. Im just the messenger, but one of the last wolves Jack wants to see. The Old Wolfs pack headquarters are at the corporate offices of his hardware company on the south side of Demos. The area is mostly industrial parks and warehouses. Jacks Hardware has grown into a chain over the years that the pack has franchised into locations across the state. The whole operation just about runs itself. Harper barely has to lift a finger or make a major business decision. The pack brings in enough money to move the corporate office to one of the high rises downtown, but the Old Wolf would never okay that type of move. Hes an Alpha from the time when all the packs were blue-collar operations fighting for space amongst human corporations. I think thats why Harper allowed me to set up shop in the city he saw his own self-made spirit reflected in me. Its a damn shame the Old Wolfs candle is all but burned out. A couple stout-looking fellas in heavy coats greeted me at the companys gated entrance. They both gave my gurgling Chevy disapproving stares. One stood in front of the truck, the other approached the drivers side. Youd better be Leon Gray, he said. Show me some ID. No sudden movements you hear me? I spotted the bulge of a shoulder-slung machine gun beneath the wolfs coat. Good thing I remembered my wallet, I said while handing him my drivers license. You two look pretty dressed down for valets. If anything, the frowns on their faces worsened. These goons were in an ill temper, but it couldnt be just because a lone wolf showed up at the office. Something had these bastards on a raggedy edge. A rough nod and an opened gate later I walked through the Plexiglas doors of Jacks Hardware corporate. The guts of the building looked just like any other office Ive been in: artificial light, bland furniture and plants starving for a good look at the sun. If not for the gun carrying dockworkers out front, someone walking in here would never know werewolves run the place. Its not as if there are claw marks on the walls or urine stains in the waiting rooms. A secretary downstairs directed me to an elevator with instructions to go to the top floor. Small confession I hate elevators. In any movie involving elevators, nothing good happens. Theyre always breaking down, refusing to open, falling or generally causing widespread casualties. The Shining? Blood pours out of the elevator. Terminator 2? Elevator turns into a pincushion. Die Hard? Elevators are bullet magnets. The motion also makes me want to throw up on my boots. I dont think I breathed the entire way up to the fifteenth floor. The door opened to a spacious reception area broken up by pockets of plush furniture. The secretarys desk was closest to me. It was a solid wooden block sporting a no frills European style construction and was about ten feet long. The companys logo -- Jacks Hardware flanked the desk in tall white lettering. A young woman behind the impressive piece of furniture looked up at me as I stepped onto the floor. She didnt smile, didnt really frown either.

Leon Gray? Mr. Harper is expecting you in his office, she said. Management mustve passed my picture around this place when I called to make the appointment. An explanation doesnt stop a shiver from running over my neck. Executive level employees are talking in office doorways, giving me irritated sidelong glances as I pass. The unwelcome sentiment reads loud and clear. Id stop to tell them that I dont want to be here either, but that would just make this whole damn mess last longer. Harpers office is the corner suite. Business casual versions of the two wolves outside check me for concealed weapons before ushering me into the room. The mood of the room was palpable, rattled my senses to the point that my eyes reflexively squinted. Harper was standing with his back to me looking out from a window that posed as the offices fourth wall. He dressed casual, looked like an out of work lumberjack. The only person in the room sat on a nearby leather sofa. He wore a tailored two-button suit, but it was easy to tell the guy had a frame like a Brazilian kick boxer underneath. His hair was too long probably Italian or something. The two made an odd pairing. You know what the lunar cycle is Gray? Harper asked. He kept his back to me. Yeah, Jack I do, I said. Whats this have to do with anything? Shut up, the kick boxer on the couch said. Hes in a mood. I am not in the mood Paul! Harper roared. When the Alpha turned, I could see a glass in his hand. He was having a whisky lunch. Probably had the same thing for breakfast. The lunar cycle lasts about twenty-nine days, he began. Time was cultures, societies, sects used this cycle to keep time and for religious goings on. The moon moves at a reliable pace, makes for a decent time-keeping device. Oh, Harper was good and hammered. Thats great, Jack I said trying to start the conversation. Listen, Ive got something to tell you. Youll talk when Im damn well ready for you to talk! he shouted. Brown liquid sloshed in his glass, flowed over and down his knuckles. He was a storm intent on knocking at least one building to the ground. Now, Harper said after swallowing more whiskey, Men, humans I mean, in robes and funny hats assigned significance to the lunar phases none more so than the full moon and new moon. You know what? I dont blame them. Even some of those damn mystical properties turned out to be facts. Imagine that humans with some fool notion about why animals and tides do what they do. Jack placed the glass of whiskey on his desk. When he spoke again, his voice stretched from a dark place in his memory, from some burden that only comes with years of leadership. He said, In the beginning, the moon may have had some sway over us. Our histories are vague where it counts. Now, we know what it is, bunch of bullshit. Evolution weeded that need out of us early. When we change, it doesnt happen because some rock in the sky says its time to do so. Its the beast. Its in every last one of us up to our necks, but thats old fucking news too. Were not monsters anymore havent been for thousands of years. So, tell me, Leon Gray, why do we insist on pawing for land like the animal inside us lives on the outside? So, Im guessing you know about what happened? Yeah, hes heard, replied Paul for his Alpha. This well-dressed douche bag didnt look like a Paul. I mean, he still reeked of douchebaggery, just not one who would call himself something as mundane as Paul. I dont remember meeting him the last time I spoke with Jack, but that was at least ten years ago. Things changed around here since then. Clearly, the old Beta was out and the new was in. Althea wants my town, Jack said. He was back to looking out through his glass wall. Who? I asked. Althea Backlund, Paul said. Shes the Alpha leading the war party you ran into this morning. How the hell do you all know this? I asked a little incredulous. If they already knew, why did I make the damn trip down here? This is my land Gray, Jack said. You dont think I have eyes all through this town? Didnt see any when twelve wolves had me and mine surrounded. You are not our responsibility, Paul sneered as he stood. He was shorter than I expected.

Then I guess you dont need to hear any more from me, I said heading for the door. I know the way out. Paul. On Jacks command, the Beta stepped in between the door and me. Kid kept a wide stance, even shook out his hands. I shifted sidelong, turned my head towards Harper. Cmon Jack, I said. You dont have time for this. You need to choose a side, Harper said as he downed the rest of his whiskey. If Althea wants to take my city, and she does, I cant have soldiers the likes of you playing for the other team. The situation was turning dark in a damn hurry. Even drunk, the Old Wolf was still in command and as conniving as ever. On one level, I didnt fault him for playing the cards he had. On the other, my hatred of the games werewolf packs play heated all the oxygen in my body. Not my fight, I said to Jack. It doesnt matter who wins because some human owns the land anyway. Call it your territory all you want, some human collects the rent money. Then to Paul: Now, get the fuck out of my way. I turned just in time to catch Pauls foot with my jaw. Felt like an Oxford loafer, size ten. The blow spun me to one knee. My brain felt like it was still travelling. I threw up my hands to catch Pauls follow up, caught his leg by calf. I drove forward, not stopping until I felt the Betas back slam into the closed office door. My right hand reached up, grabbed Paul by the collar of his expensive shirt and threw him over my shoulder. He sprawled in the center of the office. Despite my spinning head I pressed the advantage, drove a fist downward on top of his head. The blow hit him where the spine meets the skull. Paul howled, twisted his body. Somehow, that fucker managed to kick me in the head again. He had phenomenal strength to generate that kind of force from a prone position. It threw me back against Harpers massive desk. Paul was up again, charging to finish me off. Damn it, he was fast. The consecutive blows to the head had my brain contemplating unconsciousness. It was desperation time. I reached for the first thing I could grab and whipped it at Pauls blurry image. It was Harpers whiskey glass. The heavy tempered glass split the Betas forehead wide open, sent shards in every direction. He dropped, didnt try to get back up. There was blood in my mouth. I cant protect your daughter you know that right? Jack asked stepping out from behind his desk. He walked over Pauls body as if it was a piece of gum on the sidewalk, flopped down on the leather couch. I guess I just passed whatever test he was trying to shove in front of me. We dont need protecting, I said through labored breaths. Youve got enough to worry about as it is. I tried to stand, realized I would need another minute. Paul was breathing, but he wouldnt be contributing to the conversation for the remainder of my visit. Jack looked at him like a disappointed parent. Real men dont kick, he said shaking his head. Hes not going to be happy with you for showing him up. What happened to your last Beta? I asked. Seems to me I liked that one better. Maybe its the circumstances. Died. Few years back. Pauls been my right hand ever since. He might need a hospital. Jack laughed drunkenly. Were werewolves Leon, he said between laughs. That little cut wont stay there long. I decided my vision was clear enough to try standing. Id have a pounding headache soon, no denying that. Putting one foot in front of the other proved possible, so I started for the door again. Jack threw out a hand to stop me. I need you for this one, he said in a deeply worried voice. The veil of drunken bravado was gone and the Old Wolf was playing it desperate. Standing closer to him, I could see his white hair was slick, weighed down with sweat. I rubbed my rapidly swelling jaw. Shes using silver weapons, I said. Whoever this Althea is, shes coming at you hard. If she were planning a siege, youd think she wouldnt be playing with poison just yet. Tell your people to be careful.

You could always help. Not this time Jack. Sometimes the devil you know is the better choice, Jack cautioned. If Althea wins, you might not like what this city turns into, who you turn into. There wasnt any way to help Jackson even if I wanted to. Joining his pack would leave Shauna vulnerable to Poole and whatever angle he was still working to get my daughter. Hed file some damn formal complaint about me joining a pack and denying Shauna her blood ties. Hed win my daughter by some political black magic. Thats exactly the reason why I wont ever join a werewolf pack. Thats not how family should operate. I opened the door to Jacks office and was about to step through when the Alpha said one last thing. It was a damn shame what happened to your wife. Yeah Harper, I know. Let it roll off, just walk right out the door. We wouldve helped you look for her, if you wouldve come to me about it. I didnt respond, didnt even open my mouth until I was back in my truck. Theres something about the inside of a truck cabin. It can feel shuttered from the rest of the world, if you close your eyes. The dancing throb in my head ebbed for a moment in its quiet bubble. Then, just as I was about to start the engine, my head bumped the sun visor and an old bottle of aspirin fell into my lap. I think I hugged the steering wheel for a good five minutes before hitting the gas.

SIX
Hastings

Jenny convinced Hastings to stay with her while she waited for the delivery truck to show. She made some idle excuse about a girl all alone with a business to run, and then made a point to stand a boob graze away from him. The reporter had made up his mind to say no, but found himself unable or unwilling to deny her. David suspected this was how Jenny got what she wanted. Even at an hour when most people were on their way to work, she exuded a snickering confidence that was infectious. Hastings knew she was manipulating him, and he didnt mind one bit advantage Jenny. David checked his cell phone still no return call from Leon. The Dig looked almost appealing with morning light to illuminate the oak bar top. The floor was clean no spilt beer or empty bottles. The silence and lack of booze swilling customers was a balm to Davids chattering anxieties and plans ahead. Jenny, wearing denim leggings and a knit-collared leather jacket, hopped onto the bar. She wasnt wearing her come-hither work attire that Hastings was accustomed to seeing. She swung fur-lined boots back and forth, smiled at him. Oh, the things that smile did to David Hastings. He damned and saved himself a million times in that moment. He looked out onto the street for something to do other than gawk. Property insurance paid to replace the bars large bay window that a hit man, Bethea, destroyed with a classic automobile some months earlier. He was in pursuit of David at the time. The event couldve left all of them severely injured or even killed. If Leon hadnt been there, Hastings and Jenny wouldnt among the living right now. Maybe the lingering guilt surrounding Jennys skyrocketing insurance premiums led Hastings to wait with her. Maybe it was something else entirely. Hows your leg? Jenny asked. Her voice carried loudly over the empty bar. The volume caught both Hastings and Jenny off guard. She laughed to hide her embarrassment. David chose to wear his own. Um, Hastings floundered feebly for a response. Its fine. All that the scene required now was tumbleweed to blow through it. Jenny, using the nimble social skills every good bartender has, shifted the topic. She asked, Leon likes the new gig, right? Not lately, David conceded. As you could probably tell hes ignoring my phone calls. Thats not like him. Even if he is pissed at you. Jenny relaxed. Finally, she was generating some conversation with the man. Ive found something. I think its important, Hastings said. He produced the folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He felt the same giddy pride from earlier in the morning dance over him as he looked at it. Jenny tilted her head to the side, appeared disappointed. Well thats not very impressive looking, she said wryly. Leon picked up a Saturday shift here. Did you know that? I cant wait til then to track him down. Davids cheeks reddened a bit. That was enough to raise the curtain on Jennys curiosity. Whats so important about a single piece of paper? she asked. I really shouldnt talk about it, Hastings said. He suddenly remembered the sensitivity of the information, what it could mean if anyone found out where hed acquired it. Davids reaction launched Jennys mind into a full stage production entitled, Whats David Hastings Hiding? She hopped down from the bar abruptly, slinked over to David with lips curling. The reporter stepped backwards and all but fell into the waiting arms of a righted chair. Suddenly he was sitting down, powerless to escape the gravitational pull of Jennys approach. She came to stand beside David, bent slightly at the waist to come