Wolf's Call (Wolves Next Door #2) - Auryn Hadley Page 0,160

as if she was in control of what came next, and it made me feel a lot better about the chance of us being exposed. The problem was that I still had no idea what to do about it.

Gabby, however, did. "Look," she said as she moved to stand before me. "Roman texted me that you were here for him, and I won't let you hurt him! We did what we had to in the moment, and I'm not sorry about it, Ian. Roman probably saved lives, because you know what happens when someone starts shooting at school. In Florida, seventeen students were killed, and it's happening more often. But here? No one died!"

"I know," I agreed. "I'm not going to hurt him, Gabby."

She wasn't about to stop, though. "And yeah, there's a video. So what? Who's going to believe that? I mean, werewolves don't exist. There's already plenty of reason for people to write it off. We're from Wolf's Run. Mason was yelling at reporters when they took him to jail. He keeps saying that werewolves are real, and that he was going to make us turn him." Her jaw dropped open and she looked at the adults in the room like that should mean something. "Don't you see? It makes no sense!"

"What doesn't?" I asked, not quite keeping up with her.

"To kill us to make himself a werewolf," she said. "Everyone knows that a bite or scratch does it - at least in the movies. So why kill us? And did he have silver bullets?"

"Silver doesn't hurt us," I reminded her.

She just groaned in frustration. "But we aren't real, Ian. There's no such thing as werewolves. Just a crazy white teenaged boy with a gun - just like all the others who shoot up schools. Bullied - check. Not popular - check. One who always had his nose in a book and loves weird movies. Spoiler, Ian. He kinda did all of that. Mason was a drama dork. He was supposed to play the Jabberwocky! The kid was the walking stereotype for this!"

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. "So, what do we do about that?" I asked.

"Nothing!" she insisted. "That's what I'm saying. Mason's already doing it."

"And there's still a video out there," I reminded her. "In here, there are a lot of wolves who have gone unnoticed for hundreds of years, and now there's proof that we exist."

"But it's not proof," she insisted. "I mean, haven't you seen those videos of aliens?"

My phone buzzed again, and this time I pulled it out. Swiping at the screen, I found seven unread messages, and all were from different parents. Deciding that Gabby could wait for a second, I quickly scrolled through them. Each and every one was about the video, asking what we were going to do now.

"Well," I said, "I guess we need to figure this out, because the entire pack wants to know how we're handling it."

Gabby just looked at Elena. "Am I crazy, Mom?"

"No," Elena assured her. "I'm just not sure it will be enough. As an initial plan, sure. Ignoring it is not only easy, but it also makes the most sense. The question is what we're going to do if someone decides to follow up. Gabby, what if some scientist wants to take a blood sample from you or something?"

"Or study us," Kim said. "That's always been a fear. There's no way humans would accept us if they knew we existed."

"It's just a virus," Gabby said.

"And so is HIV," Elena reminded her. "But you aren't old enough to remember when people were shunned because of it. Worse than being a Latina, mija. Worse than being Black or Muslim. You know what it's like being one of the few brown kids at school. How much worse do you think it would be if they knew you could make them sick?"

"Mom!" she insisted.

But I wasn't in the mood for her teenaged antics. "Enough," I snapped. "Gabby, this is serious. No, Roman's not in trouble. He's actually a hero, so far as I'm concerned. That doesn't make this go away. There is a video of a wolf shifting forms. There's proof that we exist, and somehow we have to find a way to erase that."

"You can't," she told me. "It's on the internet, Ian. That's why Mom says to never send pictures that I don't want to see when I'm her age."

"Gabs," Roman begged. "You're not helping."

"But I'm going to," she insisted. "Maybe