I head into the bathroom to wash my hands and the coins I retrieved from the cup holder. There are no towels, just an asthmatic blower. I toss my coins from hand to hand.
The girl sprays the countertop with glass cleaner, keeping her bright-pink rhinestone-studded nails hyperextended away from the damp cloth. One takeout cup sits on the counter. Tiberius is leaning against the wall, blowing on the other.
I stand at the counter and stare down at the pastry case.
“And I’ll take that brownie,” I say. “Double chocolate.”
Putting away her blue spray, the young woman reaches for a thin sheet of wax paper and snaps open a small, white paper bag. She has a tattoo on her wrist that says Justin and a necklace that says Brandon and a biddable expression. I smile my usual nonsmile and leave her staring at the big handful of damp change, scraped from the floor of a werewolf’s Range Rover.
Back in the car, I prop my feet up on the dashboard and stare out the window. The wheels on smooth concrete sound like a whispered spray.
Tiberius makes a sharp turn onto the narrow dirt road with deep trenches on either side. Here, below a rusty sign that reads PRIVATE DRIVE, she watched us as Lucian stopped to report back to August. She couldn’t have seen me through the tinted glass, but still I swear she stared at me, her fire-colored eyes glaring at me. Pitting herself against all of us.
“So, Ti?” I ask, breaking off a piece of brownie, trying to sound casual and disinterested. “Lucian said the Alpha’s name once, but I’ve forgotten and—”
“There is no possible scenario in which you could ever need the Alpha’s name.”
I brush an invisible crumb from the front of my shirt, trying to pretend that the spat-out you doesn’t matter.
“You want some?” I ask, lifting the bag to him.
His eyes flicker toward me. “Wolves don’t eat chocolate.”
I break off a big piece and wave it around with a flourish. “Good thing I’m not one, then.” Then I pop it into my mouth and bite down so hard I think I’ve cracked a molar.
* * *
My stomach is cramping.
Maybe it really is the chocolate.
Or maybe it’s the fact that with every foot up this bumpy dirt road, I get farther and farther from the bright-blue sky and a world that has been sanded down for my convenience. Tiberius makes a sharp turn, and the last ribbon of blue sky dissolves into the sullen overcast green. Through the open windows, I hear a short yip. Silent shadows ripple beside us, dissolving into dark trunks and reappearing later.
Silver opens the gate, because now that it is no longer the days of the full moon, werewolves have fingers.
As soon as Tiberius jumps down from the cab, a flurry of silver hair flies into his arms, making soft growling noises. She sniffs at him, smelling his head, his neck, his chest, then rubs her face against his, like she can’t get enough of the feel of his skin.
They drop me off at the main building then disappear into the trees, Silver’s legs curled around his hips, her dirt-rimmed feet crossed above his ass.
They call it the Great Hall, but there’s nothing truly “Great” about it. Especially not the entry, which is really just a mudroom filled with neatly arrayed boots—muck and work—along one side and children’s shoes along the other. There, a boy sits on the floor trying to tie his shoe. He’s almost the age I was when I lost my parents and my humanity, too old to have such trouble tying shoes.
He stops for a moment, using ass and heels to shuffle over to my boots. He rocks forward, sticking his nose in the opening.
“You one of the new Shisters?” he says, straining to reach his tongue to his nose.
“Lukani.” I squat down beside him. “We call ourselves Lukani.”
His tongue still out, he goes back to making two loops.
“Gran Jean sayd that you don’ turn into wolfeses during the Iwon Moon?”
“That’s right.”
He tries to tie them together. “What you turn into?”
“People.”
“Peoples?” he says, losing his knot. “How’d you do that?”
“I didn’t mean we turn into people. I mean we stay people.”
He starts all over again. “An…an…an your pack? What they do?”
“Well, there isn’t really a pack, not like you have here. It’s just a bunch of people. Do you need help with that?”
“No! ’m Fist Shooos. I gotta do it mysef.” Taking both loops in one