a new wolf, because I knew that it would eventually settle into the same temperature-based shift that Sam had had when I met him. And I loved the cold. I didn’t want to fear it.
In an attempt to settle myself into some kind of normalcy, I suggested that we make a proper dinner, which turned out to be more difficult than I’d expected. Sam and Cole had stocked the house with a strange combination of foods, most of which could be described as “microwavable” and few that could be described as “ingredients.” But I found the things for making pancakes and eggs — which was always an appropriate meal, I thought — and Sam moved in wordlessly to assist while Cole lay on the floor in the living room, staring at the ceiling.
I glanced over my shoulder. “What’s he doing? Could I have the spatula?”
Sam passed the spatula to me. “His brain hurts him, I think.” He slid behind me to reach the plates, and for a moment, his body was pressed against mine, his hand on my waist to steady me. I felt a fierce rush of longing.
“Hey,” I said, and he turned, plates in hand. “Put those down and come back here.”
Sam started toward me but then, as he did, movement caught my eye.
“Hst — what’s that?” I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Stop!”
He froze and followed my gaze as I found what had caught my eye — an animal moving across the dark backyard. The grass was illuminated by the light coming from the two kitchen windows. For a moment, I lost sight of it, and then, there, by the covered barbecue grill.
For a moment, my heart felt light as a feather, because it was a white wolf. Olivia was a white wolf, and I hadn’t seen her in so long.
But then Sam breathed, “Shelby,” and I saw as she moved that he was right. There was none of the lithe grace that Olivia had had as a wolf, and when the white wolf lifted her head, it was a darting, suspicious move. She looked at the house, her eyes definitely not Olivia’s, and then she squatted and peed by the grill.
“Oh, nice,” I said.
Sam frowned.
We watched silently as Shelby made her way from the grill to another point in the middle of the yard, where she marked territory again. She was alone.
“I think she’s getting worse,” Sam said. Outside the window, Shelby stood for a long moment, staring at the house. I felt, uncannily, that she was looking at us in the kitchen, though we had to be just motionless silhouettes to her, if we were anything. Even from here, though, I could see her hackles rising.
“She” — we both started as Cole’s voice came from behind us — “is psychotic.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’ve seen her about when I do the traps. She’s brave and she’s mean as hell.”
“Well, I knew that,” I said. With a little shudder, I remembered without fondness the evening that she had thrown herself through a plate glass window to attack me. And then, her eyes in the lightning storm. “She’s tried to kill me more times than I care to remember.”
“She’s scared,” Sam interrupted softly. He was still watching Shelby, whose eyes were right on him, no one else. It was terribly eerie. “She’s scared, and lonely, and angry, and jealous. With you, Grace, and Cole, and Olivia, the pack’s changing really fast and she doesn’t have much further to fall. She’s losing everything.”
The last pancake I’d started was burning. I snatched the pan from the stove top. “I don’t like her around here.”
“I don’t … I don’t think you have to worry,” Sam said. Shelby was still motionless, staring at his silhouette. “I think she blames me.”
Suddenly, Shelby started, at the same time that we heard Cole’s voice across the backyard: “Clear off, you psychotic bitch!”
She slid off into the darkness as the back door slammed.
“Thanks, Cole,” I said. “That was incredibly subtle.”
“That,” replied Cole, “is one of my finest traits.”
Sam was still frowning out the window. “I wonder if she —”
The phone rang from the kitchen island, interrupting him, and Cole retrieved it. He made a face and then handed the handset to me without answering it.
The caller ID was Isabel’s number. I said, “Hello?”
“Grace.” I waited for some comment on my humanness, something offhand and sarcastic. But she only said that: Grace.
“Isabel,” I said back, just to say something. I glanced at Sam,