"Shut up," Jason said.
"I will not. It was barbaric."
"I'm not having a good night, Patrick. Drop it," I said.
"The f**k you say," he said.
"Thompson was screaming, in pain," I said.
"And you killed him," Patrick said.
"Someone had to finish it," I said.
"What the hell are you talking about? Finish it!" His voice was rising, and I was beginning to debate how angry Roxanne would be if I shot him. After what I'd already done tonight, it didn't seem like such a big deal.
"How long have you been lukoi?" Jason asked.
The question gave us a moment of surprised silence, then, "Two years."
"And what's the rule about hunting?" Jason asked.
"Which one?"
"Don't be coy, Patrick," Jason said. "You know which one."
Patrick was silent long enough that the only sounds were the whir of the engine, the wheels on the road. The van rocked softly over the rutted road. Was it just my imagination or was there a sound underneath the engine's roar, a high, keening, scream? Naw, my imagination. My imagination was not going to be my friend for a while.
Patrick finally said, "Never begin a hunt unless you mean to kill."
"That's the one," Jason said.
"But this wasn't a hunt," Patrick said.
"Yes, it was," Jason said. "We just weren't hunting the deputy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
I answered, "It means we're hunting the people in that house."
Patrick turned a pale face to me in the dark. "You can't mean that we are to kill all of them. Only one man cut off her finger. Only one man is guilty."
"They watched. They did nothing to prevent it. It's the same as doing it in the eyes of the law," I said.
"You are not the law," he said.
"Oh, yes, I am."
"No, you're not. Damn it, no, you are not!"
"Anyone who harms the pack without just cause is our enemy," I said.
"Don't quote pack law to me, human."
"How do we deal with our enemies?" I asked.
Jason answered, "Death."
"Most packs don't hold to the old laws anymore, and you both know it," Patrick said.