Jim woke me with an overly enthusiastic pat on the back.
“Guess what day it is?” he asked with his usual humor.
“Sleep in day,” I said, reaching out to shove him away.
“Bro, it’s swimsuit day. How can you want to sleep in?”
The image of Michelle’s suit popped into my head, waking me instantly. I sat up and rubbed a hand over my face.
“What time is it?”
“A little after eight. I heard the boys moving around up there and figured I’d start pancakes.”
The thought of that sweet aroma I now associated with Michelle’s interest set my pulse racing.
“Yeah. Good. I’ll shower then invite them down.”
I lifted myself off the couch, my lingering exhaustion fading at the thought of seeing Michelle. The shower didn’t take long, and by the time I went to the stairs, I heard her and the boys slowly coming down the steps. Were they worried Winifred was still upset with Jim? If I knew it would reassure them, I’d tell them Jim tended to annoy Winifred often. I didn’t think it would help, though.
When they rounded the corner of the second landing, I saw Michelle. Though the boys were wearing their swim trunks and ready for the day, she was not. Still in her pajamas, she shuffled down each step with care. The stiff way she held her head and her pale cheeks had me worrying. Liam held her hand tightly as if guiding her. Her other hand gripped the railing. Aden impatiently trailed behind the pair. When he saw me, he brightened a little.
As soon as Michelle reached the last step, I moved forward and lightly touched her forehead. Werewolves never caught human colds. But I’d been around enough humans to see the signs of sickness. She looked pale, tired, and in pain. However, she didn’t have a fever.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I said gently.
“Nothing. Just a headache,” she said, holding the railing and Liam’s hand.
Aden moved around them and hopped off the last step.
“I’m hungry,” he said tentatively, looking up at me.
“I bet,” I said, setting a hand lightly on the top of his head. “You skipped your supper. Would you like some pancakes?”
Aden nodded and reached for my hand. The feel of his little fingers wrapped around two of mine calmed some of my worry. Everything was fine. Michelle was with me, and I’d take care of her. I looked up and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile as Aden steered us toward Jim’s apartment.
“Would you like some aspirin or something?”
She carefully shook her head and followed us inside. As she and the boys settled onto the stools, I scented her discomfort. She really wasn’t feeling well.
Nudging Jim aside, I started to make cartoon pancakes for the kids, something Uncle Grey had done for us while we’d lived at the Compound.
The final product brought a smile to both boys’ faces but only because it was a sad failure.
“Well, that didn’t work so well,” I said, sliding the plate toward Liam. “Try a bite and let me know if it tastes better than it looks. I’ll start another one for your brother and sister.”
While I started the next pancake, Michelle scooted Aden onto the stool and quietly left the apartment.
Both Liam and I watched her leave. He turned and caught my eye.
“Her head really hurts sometimes.”
“I’ll see if I can help her. Jim, think you can take over?”
“Finally,” Jim said. “Aden, let me show you how to make that pancake the right way. Emmitt didn’t use enough batter.”
Leaving Jim in charge, I followed Michelle out to the porch. She leaned against a column and rubbed her temple. The pain she felt radiated from her. She needed to take something.
Winifred’s phone rang and Michelle flinched. Unable to stand by while she suffered, I moved beside her.
“Liam said your head really hurts. Are you sure I can’t get you something?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine. She sounded miserable.
Then the way she held herself changed. She went from stiff misery to swift attention. She turned her head slightly toward Winifred’s window.
Winifred was talking to Sam, another Elder. From the sound of it, Sam was trying to get her to help him with stock investments. I doubted that was the real reason for his call. For as long as I could remember, Sam had always found some excuse to call and speak with Winifred. It was always legitimate pack business, but Sam never spoke to Grey that much. If it weren’t