

by

C.J. Hart

THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors' imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

The Hunted

Copyright ©2014 C.J. Hart

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-63422-026-2

Cover Design by: Marya Heiman

Typography by: Courtney Nuckels

Editing by: Cynthia Shepp

~Smashwords Edition~

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Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Freaks. That's what we are—creatures of little girls' nightmares, free and uninhibited. Born into a world of torture and witchery. Controlled only by our deranged thirst for human blood and flesh. And by our one rule: Never, _never_ mingle with the enemy.

But we are not always safe. Where there are the Yee Naaldlooshii—skinwalkers—there are the Hunters.

We are the forsaken.

The hunted.

I remember the day my mother died. It was cool, the middle of an Aeston, Arizona winter. Dad had soup heating on the stove. Our tabby cat, Lizzy, was curled on her stomach, purring softly. And I was by Mom's bed—painfully aware of her last breaths, the rattle of her airways, the blue tint to her lips—as she beckoned me closer.

I climbed onto the mattress and clasped her cold, frail hand in mine. "Mommy?"

"Cass," she said, barely a whisper. "Promise me, you'll look after your dad." Her chest heaved as she coughed. Crimson spluttered onto her lips.

I reached for a handkerchief from the side table.

"Cassie." Her eyes slipped out of focus.

"I promise," I said. Tears crashed down my six-year-old cheeks as I wiped her mouth.

The monitor's beeping halted. As the daughter of a doctor, I knew too well what this meant.

I screamed, "Mommy!" Hoping she'd hear my desperate cries and come back to me. She didn't. I squeezed her hand until my knuckles grew white. "Mommy!" Salt water dribbled over my cheeks.

Dad sprinted into the room. Someone dragged me away from her. Uncle Scott. I caved, let my hand drop from hers—how could I fight someone four times my size? He lifted me into his arms and carried me out. Lizzy scampered behind us.

I would've promised her anything, sold my soul even, if it meant she would drift off peacefully. She was my mother. And though she'd been sick for months, at six it was hard to grasp that she was gone and what this meant for my future.

Never again would the kitchen smell of her gingerbread cookies at Christmas or fresh bread on weekends. Never again could I hug her. Hold her. She wouldn't see me grow up.

***

Eleven years later, I wrap my arms around myself, hoping she's there in spirit. Is she watching over me? Is that one of the prestigious, theological questions no one can answer?

One of the many mysteries of life, I guess.

I hear the front door click shut, and then clomping down the hall. Dad's home. Is it six-thirty already?

His head pokes into the living room, where my homework is migrating over the coffee table. "Hey, kid." He bends to press his lips to my head.

"How was work?" I concentrate on a math problem.

He blows a sigh as he collapses onto the couch. I can see the weight of the world settle around him.

"Big accident on the highway," he says. As usual, he spares me the details.

Trying to protect me, I figure. But I always push the boundaries. "Any casualties?"

His chocolate-brown eyes dart to me for a nanosecond, and then back to the mute TV. "Four."

I gaze at my father, scruffy and beyond exhaustion, already slipping into slumber. Sometimes, I feel sorry for him. Losing his wife to cancer. A high-stress job. And only a boldly curious daughter and an elderly cat to come home to. Other times, I feel as if we're just roomies. Cordial and distant. Opposites. "Should I dial a pizza?"

He nods once, eyes half closed. I stand.

"Grab me a cold one while you're up, will ya, Cass?"

"Sure thing, Dad." I slip into the kitchen, grab the cordless, and yank open the fridge.

When I return, he's asleep. I smile, bend to kiss his temple, and throw a blanket over him. _Sweet dreams, Dad._

I hitch a black-and-blue backpack onto my shoulders.

"Going hunting?" Ash's red eyes burn bright with ridicule.

"Uh-huh," I say.

Jo, Tas, and Shi mumble, incoherent, as they devour a plateful of Mom's oversized blueberry muffins.

"Yeah, and bring us back a human or two." Jo chuckles maniacally, bits of fruit and muffin falling from his mouth.

He's like a rabid dog—sometimes I wonder if he should be put down.

Ash claps me on the back. "I second that."

"In your dreams." I smirk and turn to go.

"Aw, don't be like that," Ash says, a vicious smile on his thin lips.

"Screw you."

Kat pads over to me. "I'll walk you out."

I traipse into the kitchen. Mom's mixing up another batch.

"Hungry boys, aren't they?" she says, smiling.

"They're just jealous." I return her grin.

She pretends to shoo me. "Go on. Both of you. I've got work to do." She returns to her mixing bowl.

Bending, I press my lips to her cheek. "Love you."

Her hands cup my face. "Me, also."

Kat drags me out of the door. "Want me to come with?"

I roll my eyes. "You mean 'can I come'?"

He shuffles his feet. "Yuh—okay—whatever."

"No."

"Aw, why not?"

"'Cuz I said so," I joke.

Kat straightens; smiling, mocking. "Yessir, Alpha Seb." He salutes me.

I allow myself a chuckle. "We're not in the army."

He shrugs.

"You can come next time, I promise. Okay?"

He punches my shoulder. "Okay."

"And watch out for Mom. Make sure Ash doesn't harass her."

"He is a bit of a doucheface." Kat snaps to attention. "Beta Kat accepts challenge."

Kat's like the prankster brother I never had. Or wanted. "'Kay, I'll be back in an hour or so."

The night has begun to creep in. Spooky shadows and hooting owls. A chill shimmers up my spine. Humans have long locked themselves away in their houses. The rez isn't a place you want to be out in after dark.

Good thing I'm not human.

I sprint into the forest, deep enough so no one can see me strip. When I reach the third fallen log, I stop. Kicking off my shoes, I crumple my shirt and jeans, stuffing them into the backpack and tugging the zipper closed. I cram it in a log.

The prickling of my skin intensifies as my hunger for flesh and blood grows, twisting and churning my stomach. Tugging at my muscles. I leap into the air. Hands and feet turn to paws, fingers and toes to claws. Fur spreads over my whole body, gray with circles of black on my back.

I raise my muzzle into the air and suck in a deep breath. Rust, salt, and sinew fill my nostrils. East. The lake. I pad towards it, silent and starving. Then it hits me. Like a brick wall shooting up, keeping me in my place. Staggering back as the scent of roses and coffee floods my airways, I shake my head to rid myself of the stench. _Where's it coming from?_ I must find out. I _need_ to. It's too mouthwatering to resist. I spin, sampling the air around me. West. I charge through the forest, paws crashing against leaves and bracken. I'm making too much noise. I've forgotten to care. Lost all rational thoughts.

I pass the invisible border dividing Aeston and Taylor.

A house appears at the edge of the trees, its exterior brown and gray. A blonde girl sits on the porch, candlelight sparking across her face. I freeze, claws digging into soil. She's reading. The light breeze brings her scent to me. Coffee and roses. Such a sweet, decadent aroma. My mouth waters. She can't be more than seventeen. I creep as close as I dare, curious. Her hazel eyes dart across the page. What's she reading?

She doesn't see me. I slink closer, leaning out of the trees.

A male voice cuts through the air. "Dinner's ready."

Her head snaps up. "Coming, Dad!" She marks her page, snuffs the candle flame, and then disappears inside.

I wait. Minutes or hours pass. A light in an upstairs room illuminates. The curtains close. Moments later, the curtains open and the light is extinguished.

I must see more.

Cassie

When I wake, my room is still dark. My skin is peppered with tiny bumps, though it's hot enough in here to cauterize my organs and dry out my lips. I lay frozen, ears pricked up, listening for the sound that stripped me of sleep.

Rustle, rustle, snuff. Rustle, rustle, snuff, snuff.

Curious and petrified, I open one eye and squint into the night. Is someone in my room? Some _thing_? Tree shadows dance across the darkened green walls. It's quiet again. For a moment, I'm convinced it's all in my head. Then a movement by the window jolts me. I drag my eyes to the glass.

No way. No. I cannot believe it.

At first, I notice its gray fur, matted in places around its muzzle and ears. Then its spearmint-green, glowing irises lock with mine.

Heat pinballs up my spine, firing signals into my brain. _Run! Run!_

Kelley—who I've known my entire life, Dad's oldest and dearest friend—warned me of these creatures. Bloodthirsty monsters who can appear to be anyone, any _thing_. They taunt us, track us, and feed on us. The survival rate is nil. And though I've never seen a skinwalker up close before, I am not afraid. Something in his eyes tells me not to be. They're calm, curious. Friendly. Kind. There's pain in them too, and I can't help wondering why a _sadistic creature_ would feel anything other than menace.

When I dare for a closer look, a leg tangles in the sheets and I stumble out of bed. I fall on my face. "Ow." My nose presses into the oak. I swivel my head towards the window. The wolf is gone, a ghost in the night. _Just your imagination, Cass. The moonlight playing tricks._

I try to convince myself that is the answer, but it doesn't work. Throwing open the window, I lean out. Rain drops splash onto my face. The wind is like icicles on my flesh. My eyes scrape across the yard. Is my wolf out there, cloaked in the shadows? I guess I'll never know.

I shut the window and tiptoe back into bed, where I wait for sleep to find me. But after twenty minutes of lying there, I'm wide awake. I roll over and clench my eyelids shut. In the distance, howling ensues. My wolf? It brings a comfort to me that I've sorely missed.

I drift off, listening to his broken cries.

I can't stop my thoughts from turning to her, to how utterly _stupid_ I've been. Ash would never be caught dead lusting after a _human_ _girl_. It's breaking our most important rule. I should stop thinking. Distract myself with a hunt.

But I can't.

I need to see her again...

My wolf's howls haunt me throughout the day, ringing in my ears, distracting me in classes. I drop my eyes to my English notebook. Blank. Is someone taking notes? Did I hear Mrs. Browne mention an essay?

An elbow slams into my ribs. "Hey, are you listening to me?" says my best friend, Eve.

I mumble, "Something about ...?" I search my brain for the answer. "Wolves?"

"What?" Her face crinkles in disgust. "No. I asked if you wanted to go to the movies on Friday?"

"Sure." Dad's working a double shift at the hospital that night anyway.

"Should we find us some dates?" She grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

Too distracted to form a proper answer, I repeat, "Sure."

She giggles. "I know someone who has the hots for you."

My head spins in her direction. "Who?"

She leans across her desk and whispers, "Marcus."

I snort. Marcus Wyatt, the quarterback of the school's football team? "No way." I shake my head. A jock? So not my type. "Isn't he unavailable?"

"I can persuade him to ask you out," she says.

"Gee, um—"

Her smile falters. "Or Liam."

I follow her line of sight. He _is_ gorgeous, all right. But I am more interested in solving the gray wolf mystery. "Thought _you_ liked him."

Heat creeps into her cheeks.

I turn to Eve again. "Know anything about wolves with green eyes?"

She lifts an eyebrow. "Okay, we definitely need to find you a date. I think English has made you nuts."

I roll my eyes, knowing she would say that. The only thing I can count on her for is finding me a freakin' date when I don't even want one.

Her ice-blue irises skip over my features. "Okay, spill. What's with this new wolf obsession of yours?" She flicks a finger at my notebook.

It's now covered in wolf sketches. I flip it over. "It's nothing."

"Come on," she says. "Spill."

I shake my head. Eve will just interrogate me, and then she'll blab to the whole school. I'll be known as The Wolf Girl in no time. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Mrs. Browne clears her throat. "You girls done gossiping?"

"Sorry," I say, burying my face in my notebook.

"We'll be talking about this later," Eve whispers.

I'm sure we will, at length.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of English, Marcus is waiting outside for me.

"Can I walk you to history?" He takes my books.

"Sure." As if I have another option. "Don't you, you know, have a girlfriend to walk to classes?" Tori will be pissed if she finds out.

He leads me towards building six. "She's sick."

"Oh." Yay me.

Eve catches my eye as she passes and winks. I stare her down. _Backstabber_.

He notices my still-open notebook of wolf sketches. "What's this?"

Ripping the book from his grasp, I shove it in my backpack. "Nothing. I was bored."

"You're good. I didn't know you could draw," he says. "Tori would be happy to have another artist in the group."

I doubt it. Tori doesn't like anyone very much.

A horde of students sprint past, shoving each other. One guy falls face-first onto the brick pavement. I stop to help him, but Marcus tugs on my arm. We continue to history.

"You comin' to the party on Fri?" he says, hopeful.

"Nah. Eve and I are going to the movies."

"Too bad. I hear it's gonna be epic. Cops might even show up."

"As long as it's not my uncle," I tease.

He chuckles. "Yeah. He can be a bit, uh..." His eyes cut to mine.

"Harsh?"

He nods, smirking.

The bell chimes.

"That's our cue," I say and dash into the classroom.

Marcus takes the empty table for two and smiles, pulling out the chair next to him.

There's no way I'm putting myself in Tori's warpath. I take a seat next to Miley. "Hey."

"Hi." She flicks a furtive glance towards my escort.

Marcus is leaning forwards to chat with Liam.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer." I take out my notebook and history textbook. I'll retrieve the others from him after. "How was your weekend?"

"Exhausting. Dad made me help him clean out the garage."

"Why?"

"He says he wants to keep his car in there."

"But you've always used the garage as storage."

"I know. That's what I told him."

"And?"

"He watches _Hoarders_ too much. Thinks one day we're gonna drown in our junk. How was yours?"

I open my mouth to answer—

Mr. Lucas clears his throat. "Class, settle down."

We quieten.

The day passes quickly. Faces, words, school—all a blur in my mind. My brain is haunted by images of the previous night, distracted by those glowing eyes. As I tap my car's key fob, I see Marcus leaning against my crimson Elantra. His Jeep is nestled next to mine. Fantastic.

"Hey." He pushes away from the side panel.

"Hi," I mumble, eager to get in my car.

"How was math?"

" _Awesome_."

His brow puckers.

I blow a sigh. "Sorry, it's just I..." I really want some ice cream, and I need you to go home to your girlfriend, Marcus. "It's my turn to cook tonight. Gotta get to the market."

"Sure, okay." He manages a smile. "See you tomorrow."

"Uh-huh." I yank open the door and slip in.

I skip the supermarket—we have everything I need to make butter chicken at home—and head for Rocky Roads.

Eve greets me with her usual saccharine smile. "Cass! Come to continue our conversation? Tell me everything Marcus said!"

"Actually, I came for the ice cream." I slide onto a barstool.

Her eyes assess my face. "You look like you need a triple scoop. Chocolate fudge?"

"Hit me."

While she scoops ice cream into a bucket, I tell her about my day.

"That's fab!" She adds sprinkles and caramel sauce.

I feel my face scrunch. "No, it's not. He has Tori. It's creepy."

"I guess." Handing me her creation, she rests her forearms on the counter. "But a hot guy talking to you is something, you have to admit."

I'd rather it be a _single_ hot guy.

"Soda?" she says.

I nod.

"What do you know about Kerouac?"

"Why?" I say, scooping ice cream onto a spoon and bringing it to my mouth.

"Didn't you see the essay question on the board in English?"

So, I was right—there _is_ an essay.

I shake my head. "You know Mrs. Browne—she leaves things up for ten seconds and then wipes it off."

"True." She passes me a pink-and-white striped paper cup. "I'll let you copy it out of my book if we can research it together..." She flashes me a hopeful grin.

I already know his life back to front, as I read his biography last summer. "Sure." I sip my drink. Cola.

"He was a writer, right?"

"Yes, from the fifties," I say around a mouthful of dessert.

"Grandad says all they did was drink, party, and smoke weed back then."

"Among other things."

A young couple enters the shop.

"What can I get you?" Eve says to them.

"A scoop of mocha," says the man, "another of tiramisu, and two hot chocolates."

"Sure thing." Eve busies herself with their order as the couple moves to the table in the corner.

My cell phone chirrups. Retrieving it from my pocket, I swipe the screen.

Dad: _Emergency at the hospital. Be home late. Take money from the tin for dinner._

Dinner for one again. A sigh escapes my lips. Nothing unusual. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

Eve delivers the ice cream and beverages to the customers. "Have a great night!" she says to them before swiveling to me. "Why the sour face?"

"What're you doing tonight?" I say.

She thinks for a beat. "Nothing much."

"Wanna work on that essay? Includes dinner of your choice."

"Sure!"

"What time do you finish?"

She peeks at the clock. "At four-thirty. I'm not closing tonight."

"Cool. Is five okay?"

"Five sounds great."

Standing, I hand her five one-dollar notes. "Keep the change. I better go. See you then?"

"Yep. Bye!"

***

At 5:09, Eve raps on the screen door. "Sorry I'm late," she says through the wire. "Riley was having a meltdown."

I unlock the door. "That's okay."

She slips inside. "Mom wouldn't let me go until he calmed down."

"Evie, it's fine."

Dumping her bag on the hall table, she falls into an armchair.

"What do you feel like for dinner?"

She shrugs. "What's on offer?"

"Pizza? Chinese? Burgers? Aeston is our oyster."

Her lips twitch into a smile. "I never got that saying. What do oysters have to do with anything?"

"I can defrost some lasagna."

She nods. "That sounds good."

"Okay, cool. I'll do that; you grab your English books and get started." I pretty much had the essay written—in my head at least. But that was something. Strolling into the kitchen, I pull out two containers, along with a bag of frozen fries. I'm assembling them on a tray when there's another knock on the door. "I'll get it," I say. I shove the tray into the warming oven and sprint past Eve to the door.

Uncle Scott grins at me. "Hey Cass. Your dad home?" His hair glistens with fine droplets.

I let him in. "There was an emergency at the hospital."

"Ah." His hands go to his hips, a flash of Sheriff Scott. Then he notices there's another person in the room. "Hey, how're you doing, Eve?"

She glances up from her textbook. "Hi, Sheriff Spencer. I'm good." She offers him a smile before returning to her assignment.

He rests against the doorframe. "What time you expecting him?"

I shrug. "He just said 'late'."

He nods, and his brow furrows. "Insightful," he teases.

"Stay for dinner? I can put on another slice of lasagna."

"Nah. Robyn and the kids are expecting me." He pushes off from the frame. "Just tell your dad there's been high animal activity of late. And to be careful."

My eyebrow quirks upwards. "What kind of animals?"

"Wolves, big cats, bears." He opens the door and pauses. "You be careful, too, Cass."

I sense a double entendre to his words. "Always am."

"Rain check on the dinner," he says as he steps out onto the porch.

I follow. Sheets of a fine drizzle blow into our faces.

"Take care." Uncle Scott melds into the downpour.

I click the deadbolt into place.

"More wolf talk." Eve's eyes roll skywards.

"What can I say? We Spencers are crazy for wolves."

***

The next afternoon, as the sun sinks lower in the sky, I sit on the porch and read _City of Mayhem_. I hadn't seen the wolf since Saturday night. I'm beginning to believe he isn't real. I'd made him up.

I _so_ want him to exist because then I am not crazy. And Dad won't lock me up.

Gulping some coffee, I bookmark my page. My skin prickles. I can feel eyes searing into my temple. I peer over my shoulder and shield my eyes against the glowing sun. Is someone there?

I _'m here,_ I think. _Turn around_. How can one little human girl have me twisted and tied in knots inside?

She stiffens, swiveling to look over her shoulder, her blonde tendrils flickering in the afternoon sun.

At the same time, I sink deeper into the bushes. What am I doing? There's no hope of even being friends with her. I'm a monster. A creature of her nightmares.

But I can't tear myself away. My paws are frozen amongst the fallen branches and earth. My ears bent forwards, listening.

She's inside now, and she's humming. What song? My wolf brain fails to recall its name. I want to go in there and show her who I really am, badly. The boy inside. I want to shed my claws and fur, but I can't. Why? Scared she'll hate me and call animal control?

The door closes.

And I am lost.

Cassie

I lay awake tonight, waiting. I want to see him again, a wolf I only glimpsed once. Though every inch of my brain is telling me to run, questioning why, my heart says to give him a chance. He's not like the others that people fear. It's something I feel deeply, etched into my ribs. I _know_ he's different—that and the fact that he hasn't tried to eat me yet.

And so I wait. Every creak of a floorboard, every movement, has me jumping out of my skin. Did I scare him away? Or is he watching from a distance?

But he is a no-show.

Maybe it _was_ just my eyes playing tricks. A figment of my overactive imagination. Someone's sadistic joke.

The sound of dry leaves crunching under paws jolts me awake. I'm still outside her house, hidden by branches and logs. My head pivots to see a puma sprinting towards me.

"Seb, what the hell?" says Kat, his yellow-gold eyes fierce. "The whole pack has been looking for you, dumb ass. Let's leave the pretty girl alone, and you can circle back and snack on her later, 'kay?"

I growl, deep in my chest.

"Hey, chill," he says. "You know the rules, bro." He jostles my shoulder. "It's forbidden to fall in love with a human, yadda yadda yadda."

Snapping at him, my dagger-like teeth bared, I lunge for his jugular. I pin him to the forest floor. "You do not tell _anyone_ about her, are we clear?" I know very well that they will be ordered to kill her if I don't. And I wouldn't be able to live with that.

He nods before shaking me off him. "Fine, I got it. Clear as crystal." He bumps my shoulder again. "So. Is she hot?"

I shove him, hard. "Jerk."

He jostles me back. "Hey, I'm just askin'."

"You keep your filthy paws off her."

"Ooh, Sebby's in _love_!" He thrusts out his lips and makes kissing noises.

My ears prick up at soft footfalls. "Shut up!"

Cassie

I search for my car keys in the bowl by the door. They aren't there. I can call Eve, have her pick me up on the way, but she may already be at school. This leaves one other option.

Walk. In the rain.

I slip my arms into my jacket, grab my bag, and lock up. I'm across the yard when I notice them. Muddy paw prints, bigger than my fist. They lead me around the house and into the trees. Something silver and shiny snags my attention. I creep forwards, through the fallen branches and over a log. A chill fires down my spine. My keys. How the heck did they get out here? I hook a finger into the ring, and then I hear rumbling. The ground is shaking beneath me. I steady myself and squint through the trees. My wolf and a puma wrestle, rolling over and over until the wolf is on top. He growls, teeth exposed, menacing. My heart threatens to dive out of my chest. I step back. My foot catches on a fallen branch, and I trip. They look up. My hands fly out to cushion my fall. But it's too late. My skull cracks against a log, and my head swims.

Gray paws move into my line of sight. Something soft brushes against my face. "Cassie?" His muzzle nudges my cheek.

"Dude, you know her name?" says the puma. "You're such a stalker."

"Cassie?"

I _heard_ the wolf say my name. Am I dreaming? "Mmm."

"I'll get you help," he says.

"She's gonna need it," the puma teases.

Animals are talking. I'm delusional, that's it. Driven mad by my inane curiosity and too much math homework. The smell of copper and salt tickles my nose. My vision distorts, the green leaves above blurring together. I hear a growl and something rips.

A moment later, I'm floating in the air, soaring higher. By what? Not paws. Hands. I squint at the face. I can just make out the eyes—spearmint green.

The trees and his face disappear. Darkness consumes me.

I feel a hand brush against my wrist. A breath against my ear. A whisper. "Cass."

My wolf-boy? I will my eyes to open.

"Cass, wake up."

_Wake up! Wake up!_ My fingers twitch, and then my toes. "Urrgh." My skull is splitting, a migraine jolting through my brain.

"Good girl, Cass," Dad says.

My eyes fly open. I'm in the freakin' hospital. Damn him. I try to sit up, thoughts skating in my head.

"Oh, no, sweetheart." He pushes me back down. "Stay still. You have a concussion."

"Where is he?" I say.

Dad pours water into a cup, looking confused. "Where's who?"

"The boy, the—" I'm about to say _wolf_ , but I think better of it. "The one who brought me in." I accept the cup.

Dad eyes me, concerned. "Cass, no one brought you in. Kelley found you in the corridor."

The clear liquid sprays from my mouth. "What?"

He perches on the edge of the bed, brow creased. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, totally." My voice squeaks, revealing the lie.

"Are you sure? I mean, you just appeared; none of the staff saw anyone come in with you." He watches me carefully for a moment before saying, "What do you remember last?"

_Two animals shifting into boys._ "I must've hit my head, and Eve brought me in."

"Why didn't she stay?"

Sick of him prying into my unusual morning, I let acid wash into my tone. "I don't know, Dad! I was unconscious, apparently."

"Okay." He smiles, lopsided. "You'll tell me when you're ready?"

I clear my throat. "Yep." If I'm not in the mental ward before then.

"Hey, Cass!" Kelley shuffles into the room. "How're ya doin', love?"

I bob my head twice. "Okay, I think."

"I'll leave you girls to it." Winking at me, he touches his lips to my temple.

She waits for him to leave before taking his place on the bed. "How you really doin'?"

I look at her wide nose, dark skin, and amber eyes. "Tell me more about the skinwalkers?" Her people have legends about them.

She freezes, analyzing my face. For a while, I think she isn't going to answer. Then she says, "The Navajo tribe don't talk about it."

"Oh." I drop my eyes to my hands. Tons of questions buzz through my brain.

"You've seen one," she says, her eyes widening to the size of crêpes.

"I—I shouldn't have said anything, sorry." I reach for my backpack under the table.

"I'll get it," she says and hands it to me.

"Thanks." I need answers, but I am not sure if I can pressure her for them.

The room is quiet for a minute. Then she shuffles over to the window, rests against the sill, and gazes out of the glass. "They're nasty, dangerous creatures. Born from witchcraft and raised as pure evil. They'll stalk you and taunt you. Then, when you're alone, they'll rip you to shreds."

She turns away from the window, still avoiding my eyes. "I'm only telling you this because I know you'll go searching for information elsewhere." Her lips curl into a small smile. "Cass, The Explorer." Her eyes narrow. "Don't do anything stupid. Because then I'll have to tell your dad about this conversation."

"Me, do something stupid?" I jest, and then draw a cross over my heart. "I'll watch my back, I promise."

"Good girl." She strokes my leg. "Now, get some sleep."

I nod.

She brushes back my fringe. "And forget about this nonsense." When she leaves, she closes the door behind her.

I'll try, but I can't make any promises. My wolf doesn't seem threatening. Could he be as evil as Kelley describes?

I close my eyes and try to recall that night. Gray, matted fur. His breath on my window. His curious green irises. Why should I be scared?

Maybe he is a good wolf. Maybe the legends are wrong.

I hear the door creak. My eyes snap open.

Eve pushes the door open further. "Oh, thank God!" she says. "I was so worried!"

"What are you doing out of school?"

She rolls her eyes. "Duh. It's after four."

"It is?" My eyes dart around the painfully white room for a clock.

Eve whips out her smartphone. "See?"

I'll be damned. 4:15 pm.

"I dropped by your house, and your neighbor, Mr...."

"Walden?"

"Yeah. He said you were in the hospital. So I hurried over but they wouldn't let me see you 'til now."

"Sorry you had to wait."

She shrugs. "You're my best friend. What else would you have preferred me to do?"

I'm shocked and delighted at the same time by her concern. "Thanks."

Scooting a chair closer, she flops onto it. "Don't mention it," she says as she offers me a magazine.

I don't feel like reading fictitious stories about celebrities, but I take it and stare at the pictures.

Eve clicks her tongue. "Poor Ange."

"Who?"

"Jolie. Where've you been, hiding under a rock?"

More likely, away with the faeries.

I decide I've been staring at page six far too long and flip the page.

"Are you gonna be back at school tomorrow?" she says.

"I dunno, Eve. Depends on what Dad says."

Rolling her eyes, she returns her attention to the magazine. "I'm super glad my father's not a doctor." She concentrates on an article, but then her head snaps up. "What's this about them finding you unconscious in Emergency?"

"I must've passed out or something," I mumble, "on my way to see Dad."

"Seems a bit iffy," she says. "Just think—you could've been _kidnapped_!"

I snicker at the probability. "Everyone in this town knows who my uncle is. They'd never get away with it."

"True." She returns to her magazine. "But it's still possible. You don't know what deranged _animals_ people can be."

No, I don't. And I'd prefer it to stay that way. "Did you finish the Kerouac essay?" I say to switch the topic.

Nodding, she says, "I think so. I _hope_ so." She gnaws on her bottom lip.

"It's due Friday, right? I can have a look over it, if you want."

"Thanks!" Her eyes brightening, she shoves papers into my lap.

I'm glad to have something else to read other than about celebrity lives and dramas. My eyes drift over the page, soaking in every word.

Dad sticks his head through the partly open door. "You kids want something to eat? I'm heading for the cafeteria."

"Coffee?" says Eve. "Two sugars. And something fattening."

"Nothing for me." The thought of food churns my stomach.

"You sure?" he says.

"Yeah."

Ten minutes later, he returns with Eve's coffee, a small pizza box, a muffin, and a paperback novel. The latter two, he presents to me. "In case you do get hungry. And bored."

A smile blooms on my features. "Thanks."

"Yeah, thanks, Doctor Spencer!"

He returns our grins, and then pivots to go.

"Dad?" I say.

"Yeah?"

"Has anyone been asking for me?"

He shrugs, yawns, and rubs his brow. "Not that I know of."

"Oh. Thanks."

Eve waits for him to leave before she pounces. "You're expecting someone to call, aren't you? Did you meet someone?" Her lips tug into a knowing smile.

"Kinda."

She jumps up. "I knew it!"

"How?" I reach for the muffin. Triple choc.

"I—I just knew. Best friend intuition." Giggling, she reclaims her seat.

I tear open the packaging. "No such thing."

"Next, are you gonna tell me there's no Cupid? Santa?"

"No."

"Good." Lifting the lid on the pizza box with a pink manicured nail, she inspects its contents. She pulls out a slice. "So, who's the Prince Charming?" A chunk of pepperoni falls into her lap.

"No one you know."

"So?"

I can't tell her. I don't know if _I_ even believe it. A green-eyed creature of the night. A thing of mystery.

"Is it Liam?" she says.

I chuckle once. "I just said _no one you know_."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Hmm." She ogles me. "There's something about this guy you're not telling me, but okay!" She's silent for a beat, but continues undeterred. "I told Miles you were here. She wanted to come, but she's working a shift at Kool Kat Pizza."

"Tell her I'm fine?"

"First thing when I get home," she says. "Speaking of, I'd better go." She collects her pizza and coffee.

"Drive safe."

"I will. Have fun." She smirks.

"I'll try." Picking up the tattered copy of _On the Road,_ I flick through it.

What's worse than being kept home from school? Having to spend the day with my father. Not that it's the worse day of my life or anything, but I'd rather not spend it cooped up inside.

"You think you can squeeze in another pancake?" he says.

I shake my head and push away my plate, my stomach at its bursting point. "Not even another wedge."

"Me either." He stores the rest of the batter in the fridge, and then turns to me. "Let's go to that movie you've been going on about— _Mayhem City_?"

" _City of Mayhem_ , Dad," I say. "And thought I was supposed to take it easy?"

"Come on, Cass. Let's do something _fun_." He says it as if we don't have fun, loitering near my chair.

I think for a beat. "Can we go for ice cream after?"

"Anything you want."

Feeling a lift in my mood, I grin. "Okay." I rinse my plate, and then skip into my bedroom to change.

***

The sun is low in the sky when we return, and an arctic breeze lingers. I rub at my bare arms as we climb the five steps to the house.

"Ooh," Dad says as he turns the key in the lock. "Looks like someone has a secret admirer." Smirking, he nods towards the envelope wedged between the door and its frame. He passes it to me. _Cassandra Spencer_ is scrawled across the front.

Secret admirer? He has to be kidding. I stuff the envelope into my back pocket, just in case he isn't.

He pushes open the door. "Aren't you gonna open it?"

Not in front of him. "Nosy," I tease and head for my room. I hear him chuckling in the kitchen.

What is it about parents, that they must know everything?

Perching on the edge of the bed, I examine the envelope. No indication of the author. I slide a finger under the flap, yanking it up. Inside is a single rectangle of paper, thick and somewhat creased. I pull it out.

A shiver tumbles down my spine and settles in my toes as my eyes skip over the words:

Stay away.

From what? Did I stumble upon something I shouldn't have, which I can't recall? A secret fortress? The closet to Narnia? I roll onto the mattress and hug my knees to my chest. What—or whoever—it is I'm supposed to stay away from, I hope I won't cross paths with them.

I stretch and yawn as I traipse into the kitchen. "Morning."

"Good morning," Mom says. She squeezes my arm, misery in her eyes.

Dad sits at the counter, finishing off a plate of eggs. He glares at me.

"What's going on?" I say, sensing something looming.

"We know about her," he says.

Not good. "Who?" I resist the urge to ball my hands or kick something.

"Don't play dumb, son." He rises. "We know about the doctor's girl."

I blow a slow, even breath through my lips. "How?" Not Kat, surely. He's more like family to me than any blood relation.

"Not important," he says. "Something has to be done, son."

"Nothing can happen to her," I say. "Not unless I order it." I'm the leader of the current generation; what I say, goes.

Mom's fingers tighten on my bicep.

He closes the gap between us in three strides. "You're not their only leader. The tribe elders can give orders, too."

Unwillingly, my hands scrunch. "I won't let anything happen to her," I growl.

"Not in your control anymore," he says. "Best to forget about her. She's as good as dead."

Sparks of white-hot heat arc through my body. Claws splinter my fingertips.

"Seb." Mom's eyes plead.

Too late. Fur erupts from my skin. Seb's gone. I snarl at the man before me. _No one can hurt her_.

Mom jerks away.

"Get out of my house!" he says. "Go!" His face is a mask of pure revulsion. "You are not my son."

Mom is sobbing. "Jim, no!"

Snapping at him again, I charge towards the hall. _I have to check on her._ I crash through the door and into the yard. _She won't know they're coming._ My legs propel me through the forest. _Faster._

How is it possible, that out of the millions of humans on this stupid planet, I chose her?

Or did she choose me?

Inevitable or simply poor luck?

At the clearing, I pause, sampling the air around me. I can't detect any fresh trails. Maybe Dad was kidding. No, he doesn't joke like this. If the pack's coming, they'll be here when we least expect it. I reach her house, settling into the undergrowth to wait.

Cassie

I settle into the familiar worn chair on the porch and sip my tea. Warm memories run through my mind of Mom bringing me out here one afternoon when Dad was at the hospital. We gorged on sandwich quarters, and she braided my hair. We were like twins—same hair, eyes, and smile. Dad says I'm just as nosy and kind. If it hurts him to see a younger version of his wife every day, he doesn't let on.

God, I miss her. It's been eleven years, and there's still a hole burning in my heart.

A branch behind me snaps. _Ruffle, ruffle, snuff_.

My breath catches. Could it be? Turning my head slowly, I peek over my shoulder. I can _just_ make out the shape of a wolf with spearmint-green eyes. I squint, in case it's an illusion. He's still there. Solid and true.

I stand and make my way down the steps, one foot in front of the other—careful not to move too fast, to not scare him away. I should be running. But somehow, I know I'm safe. It's that feeling of harmlessness again, tugging me forwards. I'm halfway when he steps out of the shadows, his head illuminated by the fading sun.

If I'm wrong about him, I'm dead.

He begins to retreat.

"It's okay," I say. "I won't hurt you."

His muscles freeze. I creep closer. He elevates his head to look at me. My hand reaches out to run a finger over his muzzle. He stills, hesitant as well, allowing me to comb my fingers through his fur. He's bigger than an average wolf, comes up to about my shoulders. You'd think I'd be terrified.

"There," I say, "good wolfie."

He sighs, almost a purr. I lean down to touch my lips to the tip of his nose. "Come back tomorrow, and I'll get you a snack." Our freezer overflows with meat from Dad's hunting trips.

The front door opens, and Dad steps out. The wolf withdraws further into the bushes.

"Cass, you're gonna be late." Dad waves his watch in the air.

Sighing, I cast a glance at where the wolf had been. I know he is there, somewhere beneath the bracken. "Too bad you can't come to work with me. Or drink coffee," I whisper. "Java Joe's is a real blast on Thursdays." I trek back into the house, missing him already.

***

When I arrive for my shift at Java Joe's, it's a madhouse. Tables overflow with customers, mostly Aeston High students and some parents, seated as far apart as they can possibly get in this quaint café.

Eloise, fellow server and caffeine addict, slaps a piece of paper on the counter in front of me. "Two cappuccinos for table two, three lattes for five, one chai latte for four," she says. "Everyone else wants shakes. I'll do those." She relocates to the milkshake maker. I tie on my apron and get to work.

Someone shouts, "Oy, waitress! Another latte for table five!"

I grit my teeth. Some people have no respect. Looking up, I see that Xavier, Miley's boyfriend, is the culprit. I let it slide and scribble the order down. A second later, he's in front of me.

"Hey." He smiles.

"Hi." I swivel to the coffee grinder, flipping the ON switch.

"I see you're better. Miles was worried."

"Mm. Everyone was, I guess." The grinder clicks off.

"I'll tell her you're okay. Back at school tomorrow?"

"God, I hope so. I've run out of things to do," I say. "I kinda hope there's another assignment waiting for me."

He snickers and shakes his head. "No, please. No more assignments for the rest of the semester!"

"Good luck with that. There's still three weeks left. Then finals."

"Don't sound so excited about it," he teases. "At least school will be over for us seniors."

I shrug. "I've got nothing better to do with my afternoons."

He blows a sigh. "Eve's right; you need a boyfriend."

I feel my smile wilt. "What?" Eve's been talking about me? I do not _need_ a boyfriend.

"Oops, supposed to be a secret." He backs away, apologies in his eyes.

Irritation gushes and settles in my fists. "What are you talking about?" I think of climbing over the counter to reach him quicker, but I don't.

He retreats further.

"Xay!"

Heads pivot in my direction. I _hate_ plans being made behind my back.

Eloise approaches. "Better get those coffees out quick, the natives are getting restless."

"I'm on it."

Eve rambles on as we make our way to the cafeteria, jogging to keep up with me. I've blocked her out, in my own little world, thinking of ways to improve my lonely afternoons. I certainly don't want to make Dad feel guilty of his absence. His job is imperative. And I've managed fine until now. Why am I questioning my habits? Oh, that's right. Eve thinks I'm boring, in need of a male counterpart to have fun. Screw her and her likeminded buddies.

Eve yanks on my arm. "Slow down! What's with you? Are you even listening to me?"

I shake her off. "I'm just so _sick_ of everyone's opinions of me. _Cassie should have a boyfriend. Cassie's a wolf freak._ Blah blah blah!"

"Jeez, calm down," she says, casting her eyes around us, to see if anyone has noticed my meltdown. "I'm just being a friend. I know what it's like to be lonely, Cass. It's not pleasant."

"I'm not lonely."

"Sure, like I don't recognize the signs," she says. "Can we go to lunch?"

Nodding, I trail behind her. What is wrong with me?

In the cafeteria, I pile a salad, fries, and a cola onto my tray. Then we head for our usual table in the middle. The whole gang is here—Marcus, Tori, Liam, Miley, Xavier, and Whitney.

Marcus spots me and rises. "Ah!" he gasps. "She _is_ alive!" He gestures for me to take his seat.

Next to Tori? Super.

She shoots him a look, icicles and desperation. A mutual loathing.

"How was your long weekend?" Marcus says, taking the empty seat next to Liam. "What did you do? Did your dad let you out at all?"

I feel like shrinking in my chair. Too many questions.

"Whoa, whoa!" Miley says. "Give the girl a break." She smiles at me.

" _Thank you_ ," I mouth to her.

She winks. "Xay and I saw _City of Mayhem_ on Saturday." A fan-girl scream escapes from her throat.

I gulp my cola. "Me too."

"Was it awesome?" Eve says.

I bob my head once. Miley leaps into an energetic review, hands gesturing wildly.

While she gabs, Marcus commands my attention. "You comin' to the game tonight?"

I can feel Tori's glare boring into the back of my skull. "Sorry. Working." Okay, I'm not really sorry about missing a football game. Sports will never be my _thing_.

"Oh, too bad. Next time, eh?"

"Maybe." If the world ends. Or if there's nothing on TV, no homework, and I've run out of stuff to read. Whichever comes first.

I let Miley sneak a fry, and then pretend to slap her hand away. She giggles but still reaches for another. I smirk, moving them out of her reach.

Xavier takes Miley's hand and raises it to his lips. He kisses her knuckles. "So, what're everyone's plans for the weekend?"

"Marc and I are flying to New York to see Anthrax play," Tori says.

She's the only one who calls him Marc. And he flinches every time.

"That's a fair way," Whitney says between mouthfuls of his burger. "Staying overnight?"

She flashes a lavish grin. "Yes. Actually, we're staying at Dad's hotel. Just minutes from the venue."

He owns a couple of hotels across the country and several of the finest restaurants surrounding them.

"Cool," Eve says.

"Epic," Xay adds.

Liam is silent, as usual. Not that he's shy. He just has nothing to add. And neither do I. I can't pretend to be impressed like the others. Deceitfulness is not my thing either. I'm no fraud.

"Miles and I are taking Zack and Lily to Adventureworld," Xavier says.

"Zack loves the rides," Miley says. "And Lily will tag along anywhere he goes."

"Oh! That's near one of our hotels!" Tori pulls out her cell phone. "I'll call Dad and get him to reserve a couple of rooms."

"We already have a room booked elsewhere," Miley says. "Sorry, Tor."

"No problem." She drops her cell back into her bag.

Eve sips her lemonade. "I'm going to Mom's gallery opening."

"Oh, me too. Mom's making me go." Whitney spins Eve's bottle cap, his eyes on it. "Maybe we could, I don't know, meet up?"

She falters, stunned. "Sure." Her astonished eyes meet mine.

I wink at her. She grins, and I can almost see the thoughts sprinting through her mind. _Is this a date? What to wear? How to respond?_

Liam shrugs and mumbles as he writes in his notebook, "Fixing the Camaro."

I forget that I'm the last person. Six pairs of eyes cut to me.

I stop shoveling fries into my mouth. "Oh," I say. "Um." I try to think up something other than tearing through the _Divergent_ trilogy that Dad got me. But I don't have a rich father or an artistic mother. "Miley and I are having lunch on Sunday."

Her head snaps up. "We are?"

"Yes, we are." I arch both my eyebrows for emphasis.

"Oh, yes. How silly of me to forget."

The bell tolls. There's a mad rush of students, excited for whatever their next class is—though some loiter behind, not so eager.

Miley drags me to history—Liam, Marcus and Whitney not far behind.

***

I decide shopping will quell my worries of earlier doubts. And the two new pairs of shoes and the collection of books does. But a coffee and a snack will help further. I push through the doors to the café.

Joe, the owner, eyes me. "Don't you get enough of this place during the week?" he scoffs.

"Point me in the direction of better coffee and I'm there," I say. "But until then, I'd like to place an order."

He rolls his eyes and ushers Eloise over.

"Hey, Cass," she says. "What's up?"

"You know, just doing some shopping."

She smiles. "Cool, cool."

"Can you get me a mocha latte and a banana muffin?" I lean against the counter, forearms stretched in front of me.

"Sure."

Pandemonium surges behind me. Customers chitchatting over coffee. A flood of new patrons bustles in. I sneak a look over my shoulder. A boy in a gray beanie enters, and then one with red-orange hair, like a crown of flames. Four others join them, looking like they wish to be elsewhere, glancing around at the customers with distaste. They take up two tables in the back. Each has a carved, bone-white pendant hanging from thin, leather straps around their necks. I turn back as the beanie boy approaches. He's twice my height.

"Can I help you?" Eloise says.

"Large cappuccino and an apple Danish," he says.

"Sure." She slides my order across the counter.

"Thanks," I say, reaching for a packet of sugar.

Another hand, light cocoa brown, has the same idea. Our fingers touch briefly. Sparks shoot through my body like an electric shock, muddling my thoughts.

The hand snaps back. "Sorry. You first."

My primary thought is, _I know you from somewhere_. But I regain my composure before I respond, "Thanks." Grabbing two packets, I pour in some cream. I can feel his eyes blazing into my temple. Turning, I glimpse his spearmint-green irises. My heart shudders. Recognition hits me immediately, but my gaze drops to the pendant around his neck—a wolf. I stumble back a step in shock. My wolf. What are the chances this is a coincidence? My elbow collides with a tray of drinks Eloise has just served up. Paper cups scatter, sloshing various liquids over the counter and floor.

She cuts her eyes to me, annoyed.

"Sorry," I mumble, righting myself. "Put them on my tab."

"You bet I will." She stalks off.

I hear a chuckle and spin. He's still there, grinning at my lack of coordination.

What do I say? _I thought you were imaginary_. No. I don't know. My mind buzzes with all kinds of questions, none I care to voice in such a public place.

Before I can work up my courage to say something, the flame-haired boy slings an arm over his shoulders. "Hey Seb, who's your new girlfriend?" He winks at me. This one has golden-yellow irises.

Seb rolls his eyes. "Ignore him."

"Sebby doesn't have many girlfriends." He pinches Seb's cheek. "But you're so cute."

He sure is.

Seb shoves him. "I'm gonna getcha for that."

"Sure, sure." He chuckles and returns to the group.

"He's such an embarrassment." Seb shoots the boy a glare.

"Does he do that often?" I dump the sugar into my coffee. "Embarrass you?"

"Only around pretty girls."

A compliment?

Eloise hands him his order.

"Thanks," he says to her, and then to me, "I'll see you 'round." His lips stretch into a grin again. He pivots on his heel, lumbering over to his friends.

Huh. What just happened? Is that really him? Grabbing a magazine off the rack, I choose a seat by the window. I need answers, but now isn't the time.

A minute later, Eve sits opposite me. "Glad I found you. I have some exciting news!"

"Yeah?" I say.

A voice carries over to us—the boy sitting next to Seb. "Wanna see a magic trick?"

I stare over Eve's shoulder.

"Does it involve the chips you're holding?" the smaller one says.

"Totally unrelated," he says.

"Okay..."

"Watch them disappear!" He empties the bag on his friend's head.

"Hey, no fair." The small boy brushes crumbs from his hair.

I notice one of them is staring right at me. His crimson eyes fill me with dread. Again, I want to shrink down into my seat. I can't tear my gaze away.

Eve notices my preoccupation and swivels in her chair to look at them. "Oh, those bozos." She rolls her eyes and turns back.

"I thought they seemed okay, actually. The green-eyed one is pretty cute." A smile floods my features, but I quickly wipe it off.

She lifts an eyebrow. "Only losers hang out with them." She flicks them a fleeting glance. "I've heard stories about them." Leaning forwards, she whispers, "Grandad told me they sacrifice animals. And see the totems around their necks? Can't be good."

"Maybe they're into Voodoo," I tease.

She folds her arms across her chest. "Make fun of me if you want, but I'd watch my back if I were you. That one has eyes for you—you're his now." She stands.

"Aren't you gonna tell me your news?" I say, half-heartedly.

"Oh. Whitney confirmed tomorrow _is_ a date." She squeals. "Can you help me pick an outfit tomorrow?"

I nod. "No problem."

"Come at three."

I sip my coffee. "I'll be there."

"Awesome." She slings her handbag onto her shoulder. "Take care. Watch your back."

"Will do."

She hurries out of the door, crossing the road to her pink VW Beetle. The red-eyed one is staring after her.

***

When I arrive home, I kick the door shut and amble into my room. I empty the contents of the shopping bags onto my purple comforter. My ears perk up, hearing boots in the hall.

"Hey, kiddo," Dad says. "How was your afternoon?"

_Well, Dad, I met this strange guy in the coffee shop._ "It was fine." I turn my back on him, pretending to sort through the pile.

He gets the message; I wish to be alone. "All right, then. I'll let you get back to whatever it is you're doing." Swiveling, he clomps back down the hall. "Dinner's in ten."

I slide onto the mattress and weave my hair into a clumsy braid. It was always better when Mom did it. Tight. Neat. Every scrap of hair accounted for. Wholly opposite to mine. And yet, my fingers don't stop until the braid's secured with an elastic. Tufts of blonde fall from the tie. But I'm past caring, feeling a tad closer to her.

_If only,_ I tell myself each week, month, year.

If only I could speak to her for one more minute, have another moment.

If only I could hug her again, confess my soul, my deepest thoughts.

My mind skitters to Seb. What would Mom make of him? Would she feel the same, imprisoned in those compassionate eyes, as I am? I'll never know.

I sort through my diminutive haul and stow the books on the side table—a temporary holding, until I choose which one to devour first.

"Five minutes," Dad yells.

I pad over to the window and hoist it up. Is Seb out there somewhere, watching? My eyes rake over the boundary of trees. Not a hint of gray. Probably for the best.

Who am I fooling? I feel safer when he's around, stronger. More like who I should be, who I'm destined to become. My essence sings with anticipation, and my heart aches with a longing so deep that it bores into my bones. How can someone so dangerous be so captivating?

The little voice inside me says, _Couldn't you find_ any _other person on this planet to fall in love with? Pretty pathetic..._

But I can't help thinking it was inevitable. I wasn't born to love just anyone. I was born to love _him_.

_He's a monster,_ Dad would say.

Maybe he's right.

And maybe he isn't.

The braches part. Green eyes appear. Then gray fur. The wolf stalks towards me, glowing irises harsh with rage. A growl rumbles in its chest. I'm numb from head to toe, frozen in fear. Behind me, leaves crunch under feet. Fingers weave into mine. The scent of spearmint and sage has me spiraling headlong into a Harlequin romance novel.

Seb.

He smiles at me and takes me into his arms.

The wolf snarls, razor teeth snapping. Spittle leaks from the corners of his mouth. He's hungry. He wants to eat me. Just like the legends depict. He lunges for my throat, toothy grin in place.

Seb shoves me behind him, an arm extending to hold me back. Then he gasps and half-turns, pressing a hand to his side. Carmine-red oozes from a gash on his torso. "Why?" he whispers, irises ablaze with surprise and betrayal.

I drop my eyes to the silver knife in my palm, dripping with blood.

The wolf fades to nothing like a B-movie special effect. And Seb is lying on a bed of pine needles, bleeding out.

***

I jolt awake. Someone is screaming. Me? The door bursts open, cracking against the wall. I scream again. A shadowy figure stumbles towards me. A hand covers my mouth, cutting off the shriek midway.

Seb

I watch the glow of the morning sun arc across my room as I think of her. I'd lost count of the minutes passing as I debate whether I should pick up the damn phone and see if she's okay.

What if she's freaked?

What if she's not?

I don't know which is for the better. I'm a creature of her nightmares. How can she love me, someone so mythological?

A monster.

She plagues my every thought. I can't escape her.

Will I ever?

Did you really have to come in all _Hulk_ -ish last night?" I crunch on a slice of buttery toast.

Dad shrugs. "You were screaming. Would you prefer it if I didn't check if you were being murdered?"

"No."

He drains the remnants of his coffee. "I'm gonna be gone most of the day. Should be back by four-thirty."

Big surprise.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?"

I level a glare at him. He hasn't asked me that since I was fifteen. "Yeah."

"Call Bill next door if you need help."

What does he think is gonna happen? A raid? An attack by a brood of vampires? An orgy? "Sure. But I'll be fine. Just writing my essay." Maybe I do need to get a life.

***

I scribble furiously across the page, aiming to have my Austen essay done by five. The pen's ink begins to fade, leaving streaks as I scratch every last splotch out of it. Then I search through my bag for another. Nada. Dad probably has a stash in his office. It's usually off limits, but he'll never find out. It's just a pen, right?

I walk to the last door at the end of the hall and try the knob. It twists easily—unlocked. I slip in, my eyes already roaming his desk for writing implements. They catch a tin stuffed with them. I choose a blue one. As I do, my eyes drift over the papers on his desk. One catches my attention. I pick up the thick sheet, studying it. My heart kicks in my chest as I realize what it is. A list of the current Navajo reservation pack members and their corresponding animal.

Hok'ee Nat'aanii (Seb) — Gray wolf.

Tsela Kii (Kat) — Black puma.

Ashkii Dighin Nez (Ash) — Brown bear.

Shilah T'ah (Shi) — Eagle.

Nastas Ketsoh (Tas) — Light brown puma.

Gaagii Lighai (Jo) — Fox.

Why does Dad have this? What interest would the skinwalkers be to him? He's a doctor. I hear the front door snap shut, and a moment of panic ignites in my chest.

"Cass?" Dad says.

I drop the paper back on top of the others and scuttle out, shutting the door behind me as Dad enters the hall.

His brow creases. "Cass?"

I hold up the evidence. "Just looking for a pen." Can I trust him? He's no longer who I think he is.

"Okay."

I step aside. For a moment, we circle like predator and prey. Then he slips into his office. The door closes. I gather my homework from the living room and lock myself in my bedroom.

I try to wrap my head around it. Is this what Uncle Scott refers to when he gets me to pass on his inconsequential messages of rogue animals? Can't be. I refuse to believe my family has anything to do with the skinwalkers. Two thoughts scream above all others.

Is Seb in danger?

Am I?

A hand grabs my shoulder, shakes me. The knife in my grasp swings out, an automatic defense since I've been crashing at my sister's.

"Dude, it's me," Kat says.

I flip over. "Man, what time is it?" Rubbing my eyes, I squint into the early morning.

"Seven."

I roll back over and try to go back to sleep. He won't let me. I grumble profanities until I notice the pure terror for me in his eyes.

I sit up. "What is it? Is Alyssa all right?"

"Dude, they're talkin' about gettin' a new pack leader."

That wakes me up. "What?" My fingers tighten around the black handle. I knew it was only a matter of time before they came for me.

"They're sayin' you're no good, bro, soft." He shifts from foot to foot.

I have a conscious; this is the problem. I have a day job and not enough menace in me. Like to hang around the humans, pretending I am one. I stab the blade into the top of the side table. "Over my dead, decaying corpse." They can't get rid of me. My father was the previous alpha; it's my birthright.

"Don't think killing you is a problem for them..." He places a hand on my shoulder. "It was nice knowing you."

Ash and Tas burst into the room, snarling and fuming. Kat backs up, worry and apologies in his eyes.

"Lyssa! Gale!" I growl as they rip me from my bed, the wolf inside screaming to burst out. I know my sister and her husband can't help. Any interference on their or Kat's part and they'll be dead in an instant.

"She can't help you now, Sebby," Ash says. "No one can."

They drag me down the hall. Kicking out, I smash a vase and two picture frames. I recall the knife. If only I hadn't stabbed that table ...

But this is not a place for _if only_ 's.

"You're a disgrace," Tas says.

Ash tosses me into the front yard, where Shi and Jo are waiting. Along with two others I can't place. They take their turn at punching me, tearing me to pieces. Breaking my bones. I'm different, and they hate that.

Someone slits my wrists. I bleed into the earth.

I'm a goner. The odds aren't in my favor.

There's a deafening _crack_. My vision distorts the laughing faces above me, tunneling into pinpricks. I make one final attempt to save my life.

Cassie

Florence and the Machine blasts from my speakers as I make my way home, winding through the streets of Phoenix. When the outskirts of the Navajo reservation are whipping past my window, a fleck of black-gray fur wedged between the trees catches my eye. No cars behind me. I slam my foot on the brakes and peer into my rearview mirror, eyes searching for what I'd seen. Something slathered in blood protrudes from the foliage. Is that a paw? I throw my Elantra into reverse, and then pop the hand brake. I jump out and skid over to where I saw it, smacking away branches and vines. My eyes settle on a gray wolf. Blood snakes from his nostrils, dribbles from his slit paws and cuts. The slices in his flesh strike me as random slashes—over his back and legs.

I collapse to my knees in front of Seb. Is he alive? Where do I check? If only Dad were a vet. My fingers float to his neck. Nothing. Hm. I cup my hands in front of his snout. _Please be alive!_

Hot, sporadic breaths stagger from his open mouth.

_Yes!_ Only, how to get him help? I straighten, pop open my trunk, and grab a beach towel. I drape it over the backseat. There's no way I can explain bloodstains to the insurance people. Or Dad. He'd certainly freak. _How heavy is he?_ I think as I hook my arms under his forepaws. He must weigh one hundred and twenty pounds, but I manage to drag him across the tar—some higher power enabling me to, maybe—and heft him into my car.

"Who did this to you?" I say, as if he can answer.

As I swing into my street, he begins to shift—claws to fingers, muzzle to an über cute nose, fur to bare, light cocoa skin. My head whips around. Naked. He's naked! A horn blares and I remember I'm driving. I straighten the car and try to rid my mind of the horrifyingly bloody images.

He moans as he stirs. I pull into my driveway.

His lashes flutter open, his green eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "What the hell happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." I turn to look at him.

At the same moment, he realizes he's sans clothing and covers his bits with his hands.

"I wasn't looking," I say. Much.

"I have to go." He tries to sit up. Blood secretes from his wounds.

"Uh, no. You're not going anywhere."

"I have to—have to see if Kat's okay." After a moment, he gives up on trying and sags back into the seat with a moan.

"I'm pretty sure your cat can survive without you for a bit."

"You don't understand—"

"Come on; let's get you inside before my dad gets home."

"How do I know I can trust you?" he whispers. "Everyone's turned on me."

My hands fly to my hips, indignant that he thinks I'm untrustworthy. "I've kept your secret so far, haven't I?"

He nods.

"Then, trust me." I help him out, secure the towel around his waist. That he's conscious makes this trip easier. I get him to my bedroom and set him on my bed. "Lie down."

He manages a smirk. "Bossy."

"Just like my mother, I'm told." My brow pinches. "Are you gonna try to eat me?"

He stifles a laugh. "Cass, I don't—I don't _kill people_. Not since twenty-ten, anyway."

"But, I thought—?" Hasn't Kelley been telling me they're bloodthirsty creatures?

"I'm not like the others. They don't care about humans and certainly don't hang out with them."

I mull that over for a beat, waiting for further explanation.

"I have a conscience." He grits his teeth and reclines on the mattress. "That's what got me into trouble." Sweat beads on his upper lip and forehead.

"Oh?" I march into the bathroom, filling a bowl with cold water.

"They think I've gone soft, and the last thing they want is a weak leader."

Seb

She's so adorable playing doctor that I want to kiss her. But it's better I not wreck anything so soon. Her room is shrouded in family photographs and sketches of landscapes and faces. I pick out mine against the others. How long did it take her? Did she struggle, trying to recall every feature? Cassie returns with a bowl and a hand towel, kneeling beside me and dabbing at my already-moist face.

"Another king overthrown." A cough sputters from my throat. I try not to wince as searing pain shoots through me.

She grabs a tissue, a smirk flashing onto her lips. "Well, Caesar, not everyone likes their ruler." She dabs at the corner of my mouth.

I see red on it before she folds it and pitches it into the trash.

I manage a weak laugh. "Great way to meet beautiful girls."

She smiles. "Thanks?"

"I'm serious," I say. "I show up all damaged and you run to aid."

"Guess it's in my blood, helping people." She swabs the damp towel over my wounds.

Cassie's as unbiased as they come—as a Hunter's daughter, she should be freaking out that I'm in her room. Calling her Dad and organizing a hunting party. Does she not know her father is the leader of the group who tracks us and hunts us? If she were a boy, she'd know. Like us, it's a genetic thing; only males inherit the dominant Hunter or skinwalker gene.

Regardless of this, I catch her hand. "Don't bother. I'll be healed in a day or so."

"Yeah?" Her brow wrinkles again.

Without thinking, my fingers reach to smooth out the creases on her forehead. Her face softens at my touch.

The corners of her mouth hike upwards. "You gave me quite a scare."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're okay." She slides a chair over and props her legs up on the mattress.

My fingers march over her calf in a haphazard pattern. "I remember the very first time I saw you—it was a while ago, maybe a year. Blonde, gorgeous, alone in the woods." I pause. I sound like a stalker.

"Go on," she says and smiles again.

"I was my handsome wolfie self, hunting for dinner—deer, obviously."

"No humans for Sebby."

I tense at the name. Why? An image of Ash floats into my mind. But she probably remembers Kat calling me that at the café. I relax.

"Anyway, you were sitting on a log in the middle of the forest, staring at nothing, a book in your lap." I grin. "And I remember wanting to know exactly what you were thinking." I chuckle. "Then the deer scattered and you spun around so fast, I barely had enough time to hide." I cough again, a result of laughing too much in my state. "'Course, you didn't smell the same back then. I didn't recognize you straight away."

"What do I smell like?"

"Coffee and roses."

Her smile widens. "An interesting combo."

"What about me?"

She leans close, sniffing at my neck, and I resist the urge to kiss her. But she's so close.

She sits back and laughs. "Spearmint like your eyes and um—sage? Earthy and sweet."

I catch her arm. "You really shouldn't be alone in the forest. It's a place for monsters like me."

"Monster?" She shakes her head. "I don't believe for a second that you're a bad guy."

If only she knew. I lift a hand to tousle her blonde waves.

"Hungry?" she says.

My hand slides to her cheek and she cradles it in hers. Her Snow White skin is smooth. She is so trusting.

What if I am a bad guy, swaddled in this mortal skin? "Got any ice cream?"

She thinks for a beat. "Choc chip." Her lips jerk into a smile. "Will that do?"

I nod, and she leaves the room.

I release the breath I'd been holding. It's been years since I've struggled to be around a human. What is it that makes Cassie so special, so tempting, and so delicious? I'll have to hunt before I see her again.

Cassie

_Seb should really stay the night,_ I think as I scoop ice cream into two bowls. Because I figure, though he hasn't told me who, someone is out there with his blood on their hands. And they will probably return once they realize he's alive. I'll ask Dad when he gets home.

I halt, scoop halfway to the bowl, something gnawing at the back of my mind. _Dad knows what Seb is_. He'll never let him stay over. Operation Keep-Seb-Alive-and-Hidden it is.

When I return, he's sitting up and clutching his side.

"Oh no," I say. "Lay down, please. I think you might have a fractured rib. And a concussion."

He does as he's told, smirking. "Watch a lot of _ER_ reruns?"

"You live with a doctor for seventeen years—you pick up a few things." What if Seb needs a _real_ doctor?

"Hey." He touches the tip of his index finger to my nose quickly. "Don't you worry about me. Fast healer, remember?"

Dad's voice floats down the hall, "Cass, you home?"

I feel my eyes widen. "Wait here," I whisper.

"No place I'd rather stay, honeybee."

I return his grin and rise to find Dad.

He's in the kitchen, heating up a plate of leftovers. "How was your day?"

"Fine," I say, and then quickly add, "You?"

"Busy."

Never a dull day as a doctor.

He eyes me, suspicious. I worry he knows. But if he does, it goes unsaid.

"I better get back to my homework," I say. "I got a ton to do." I retreat to my bedroom and wish, for the first time, my door had a better lock. I don't want to let Seb out of my sight. But I'll have to—school tomorrow.

I hear Seb approach.

"Something up?" His hand rests on my shoulder, a comfort I sorely miss.

Maybe Eve's right. I need a boyfriend. "No."

He spins me around. "You're a terrible liar."

"I know."

His fingers cup my chin and lift it. "You can confess all your secrets to me, you know? I won't tell another being."

I nod. Not an inch of me distrusts him. "I know."

"I'd better go. Don't wanna get you into trouble."

"I can't let you leave." I move to the window frame as he does, pressing myself up against it.

A sly smile curls his lips. "You don't scare me, honeybee."

I arch an eyebrow. "No?"

"No." He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

I stifle a squeal. The last thing we need is for Dad—The Incredible Hulk—to come busting in.

My eyes meet with the top of the towel. What if it were to just, you know, slip off while I'm upside down? A cheeky grin blooms on my features.

"See?" He tosses me onto the bed, and then swivels to thrust open the window.

What can I say or do to make him stay? I take a stab at something I only hope is a lie. "There are too many people after you." I can see the instant it hits him, the truth behind it.

He shudders before turning to me. "All right. What do you suggest then?"

I grab my semi-melted bowl of ice cream and spoon some into my mouth. "Watch TV?"

He snorts, perching on the edge of the mattress. "Okay."

"Maybe I should get you some clothes." I doubt anything from the ex-boyfriend pile will fit him. But I should at least be able to find him some pants.

I locate a pair of gray sweatpants, and he slips them on underneath the towel. On him, they cut off mid-calf.

"What shows do you like?"

He answers automatically, "Lame cop shows."

"Lame?" I scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah. The lamer, the better."

So we spend all night, and part of the morning, munching on junk food, bonding, and watching TV. I drift off in his arms, somewhere after three am. Then wake with a start, my alarm clock chirping. Time for school.

I disentangle myself from Seb's arms. He rolls over a little too far, crashing to the floor with a _thud_.

A beat later, his head snaps up. "I'm okay!"

I guffaw. He flings himself back onto the mattress.

"What're you gonna do while I'm at school?" I shovel empty wrappers off my quilt and into the trash basket.

"I do have a life. I'll be at work."

"Oh. Good."

His lips twitch into a smile. "Tryin' to keep tabs on me, sweetheart?"

My hands fly to my hips, a movement I immediately recognize as Sheriff Scott. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

"Okay. I'll drop by after school and you can wrap me in cotton wool."

I shove him. "You're an ass sometimes, you know?"

His grin widens. "I do."

Grunting, I march over to my closet. Infuriating. I tug out a pair of black jeans and a band T-shirt.

"I won't look," he says and buries his face into my pillow.

"You'd better not," I grumble, yanking the curtains shut.

"A little touchy this morning, are we?"

"I haven't had my coffee."

"Oh, you're one of _those_ types," he jests.

"Feeling better, I see?" I button the top clasp of my jeans.

"Much. Thank you."

I tug the shirt over my head. "You are very welcome." I tap him on his shoulder.

His head swivels towards me. "Cute."

We still as Dad's bedroom door opens. He clunks down the hall, and then the stairs. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Seb stands. "I'd better get going."

I let him pull me into a tight hug, feeling myself melting in his embrace.

His lips press to my cheek. "I owe you one."

"I'll collect."

His arms tighten with bone-crushing strength.

I wheeze, unable to catch a breath. "Seb," I manage.

"Oh." He releases me. "Catch you later, honeybee." He opens the window and climbs out onto my tiny balcony, onto the railing.

"Wait!" I scramble forwards. "You're just gonna jump off the second-story balcony?"

He smirks. "Watch." Seb hoists himself over the railing. For a second, he's falling, falling. Then he lands lightly on his feet.

I lean over the rail, surprised. He blows me a kiss. I pretend to catch it. Then he's melding into the forest.

This afternoon, I arrive home to Seb stretched across my bed. He analyzes a sandwich before taking a bite.

"Any trouble?" I say.

"Your cat tried to kill me."

I dump my bag near my glass desk. "She can be such a sour puss sometimes," I say as I crawl next to him.

"How was your day?"

"About as uninteresting as a bald eagle. You?"

"Eh." He shrugs. "Better now." He smiles at me.

"Is that so?" I trail a finger over the silvery scar on his wrist. "You really do heal fast." Yesterday, it was a bloody, jagged mess of skin. My gaze drifts over his impressive biceps, laden with ropes of muscle, to the wolf totem around his neck. "What _is_ that?" Curiosity wins again.

His thumb traces the design absently. "We're each given one after we choose an animal to shift into. After the ceremony." He lowers his eyes to me. "Witchcraft..."

"Witchcraft?" I expect to hear an explanation, and he doesn't disappoint me.

"Centuries ago, the very first Yee Naaldlooshii pack was created. Born from magic, shaped by witches. There were five of them, and each witch transformed themselves into a different beast—bear, puma, eagle, raven, and wolf." His fingers knot in mine. "After the selfish act—of them disregarding future generation's freedom to make their own choices—the repercussions came. They found they could only satiate their hunger with the blood and flesh of humans.

"Thus, the elders were formed, to keep order. There's a set of them allocated to each pack, and each generation is doomed to adhere to the rules set by them, to carry out the long-outdated traditions." His mouth jerks into a half smile. "And now, here we are, hiding from them all."

Who knew such magic existed?

"Unfortunately, it's carved from a real wolf bone." He shudders. "Supposed to represent the ties between the animal and the practitioner."

"That's creepy."

"Yeah."

A tap on the front door.

I jump up. "I'll be back." Jogging to the door, I throw it open.

The flame-haired boy from the café grins at me.

Rage surges, pumping through my blood, curling my fists. He's one of them—he hurt Seb. "What the hell do you want?"

He rocks back on his heels, surprised. "A little birdy told me I'd find Seb here. So, is he?"

I feel my face twist with fury. "You think I'm just gonna let one of the _freaks_ that hurt him into my house?" My fingers coil around the baseball bat by the door. "You did this to him."

"Whoa, easy!" He stumbles back a step. "I had no part in that."

"Yeah, right," I spit. Then I feel Seb's approach.

"It's okay, Cass." His hand rests on my shoulder. "He's a friend."

I stare at him for another beat before turning away.

"Man, she's a feisty one," I hear him say.

Seb chuckles once. "How's things?"

"Not good. Ash has taken over as alpha." He shakes his head. "Talk about a tyrant!"

Seb sinks into the couch. The other follows. I clear my throat, and Seb quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Introductions?" I say.

"Oh."

"Manners, Sebby! I'm Kat." He holds out his fist. "K-a-t."

I trust Seb, so by extension, I can trust Kat, right? "Cassie." I bump my fist against his. "And here I've been thinking Seb's worried about a c-a-t."

Kat guffaws, punching Seb's shoulder. "You were worried about me?" He smirks. "Technically, I am a cat. That's how I got my name."

A memory of Wolf-Seb and a puma flares to life behind my eyes. "A very big cat." I drop into an armchair.

Lizzy leaps onto the couch, tail bristling, ears flattening, and hisses at both of them.

"Hush, you," I say to her.

Her tail flicks and she settles in the gap between them, keeping watch.

Kat turns back to Seb. "Your mom's been pretty noisy about this whole situation. The elders are getting restless."

"Ash has been vying for the top spot since I've known him."

"And it's only a matter of time before he decides to return for you—both of you."

Seb's eyes dart to mine. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this, Cass."

I shrug a shoulder, aiming for nonchalant. "If you're goin' down, I am too."

He shakes his head. "No, Cass. He's starting a war, one I don't know if we can win."

"They've added two pack members," Kat says, eyes on his shoes.

"That means we're outnumbered two to six."

Kat rises. "Not good odds."

"And they still include you in everything?"

"I wouldn't say _everything_. Who knows what goes on outside of their little meetings?"

"You think you can stay there a while longer, catch more whispers of their plans?"

He salutes me, and then begins to pace the length of the room. "Can do, Alpha Seb."

"I'm not a leader anymore."

As they bicker about Seb's Alpha status, his words are replaying in my mind. _He's starting a war, one I don't know if we can win_. "Can _we_ add members? From other packs?"

The boys exchange a look.

"Good idea in theory, but—"

Kat stops. "Who can we trust?"

He watches me as I deliver milkshakes and burgers to the teens by the window. It should creep me out. But it doesn't. And I can't help sneaking a peek at him every few moments. Seb smiles and winks at me. Losing my train of thought, my boot skids on an unseen bottle cap. I slide across the linoleum, the tray in my grasp teetering precariously off balance. There is nowhere to go but down.

Plates and glasses shatter. Cutlery rains around me. I land hard on my ass. "Crap," I say under my breath.

Two sets of arms grab me and haul me up.

"Cass, y'okay?"

Staring up at Marcus, I nod. I hear Seb growl, his fingers a condensing tourniquet on my upper arm. Marcus's eyes dart to Seb, and then to his hand on my arm.

"Yeah," I say. "Guess I won't make waitress of the month." I shrug out of their tense grasps.

"Let me help you." Marcus crouches, retrieves the tray, and begins stacking chipped plates and shards of glass.

"Oh, don't worry about it," I say.

But he doesn't stop.

I feel Seb's seething presence surge, and I turn. "What?"

"He's in love with you," he says through gritted teeth.

"So, you must automatically hate him?" I fold my arms across my chest.

"Pretty much." He slings an arm over my shoulders.

I shove him away. "Boss frowns against PDAs."

"Sure, sure." Seb smirks.

For some unknown reason, I don't want to hurt Marcus's feelings. I squat to help him. A shard of glass catches my thumb. I jerk my hand away, and blood trickles down my palm.

"Let me see." Marcus catches my hand. "It's deep; you may need stitches."

I rip it free. I'm not a little girl that needs to be taken care of. "I know what to do, thank you!"

His mouth curls downwards. "Just trying to help."

I can sense Seb's smirk and unfurling joy before I see it. So much for not hurting Marcus. "Sorry," I mumble as he rejoins his friends. But was I? He's had a crush on me since second grade, and I have never felt remotely interested in him.

Seb crouches to help, pressing a wad of napkins to my thumb.

Frustrated with myself, I snap, " _Don't_."

He quirks an eyebrow upwards, spins, and then returns to his table. I blow a sigh. At least he's good at hiding any hurt from me. But I still feel horrible by the time I've cleaned my mess up, so I place a cupcake in front of him.

"On me, the irritated waitress who is _very_ sorry." And this time, I mean it.

He smiles, eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. "Thanks."

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

Eloise's voice rises over the hubbub. "Cass?"

"I'll be back," I say to him, and then weave through tables and customers. "Yep?"

"There's a phone call for you." She hands me the landline.

"From who?"

"Didn't say." She turns to takes someone's order.

I press the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

There's a rustling tailed by a maniacal laugh.

It tingles my spine and coils barbed wire around my stomach. I duck into the supply room. "Who is this?"

The laugh cuts off. "Your nightmares come true." The line goes dead.

It takes me a moment to realize my hands are trembling, as my brain fails to comprehend what'd just happened. But I already know it's one of four people—one of the pack members. I don't count the newbies; they wouldn't know anything about this war. Hanging up the phone, I try to regain my composure. I know the second Seb sees me, he'll be able to tell something's up. Plastering a smile on my lips, I nudge open the door.

Eloise glances at me, curious. "Who was it? A boy?" She grins, hopeful.

"Prank call," I say, looking for something to do to keep my hands busy.

"Oh." Her gaze drifts towards Seb's table. "So who's the guy in the corner? He's been checking you out all afternoon."

"That's Seb."

"You two together? He seems pretty enamored."

"We're just friends."

"Sure you are." She winks.

***

I saunter into the kitchen. Dad's chopping veggies. Grabbing a cola from the fridge, I take a seat at the antiquated table.

"Have a good shift?" He tosses a handful of carrots into a sizzling saucepan. His tone is light, but his back and neck are too stiff.

I pop the tab and take a sip. "If you count dropping a tray and cutting my thumb on a glass 'good', then yeah." Plus having an insane monster after me.

"Did you check the wound for glass?"

I roll my eyes and thrust out my thumb. "Take a look yourself, Doctor Spencer."

"No need for the attitude, Cass. I just care." He abandons dinner and peels away the crimson-stained bandage.

I had to change it twice because it bled through. And so I didn't scare away customers. "I know."

He eyes the jagged edges of skin and the red core of tissue below. "Needs stitches." Vanishing down the hall, he returns seconds later with his bag.

"Marcus said the same thing."

This seems to prompt a lightening of his features. "Oh? Spend a lot of time with him?" He jabs my thumb with a syringe.

"Just school and when he miraculously appears out of nowhere." Akin to a stalker.

He checks for leftover glass. "He's a good kid."

"Yeah."

"Too bad he's involved with what's-her-name."

"Tori." It sounds as if he's hoping we'd get together. I do _not_ want my dad setting me up with anyone. I swivel my head away as he patches me up, not wanting the image of a needle piercing my skin to haunt me.

"You haven't seen anything..." Dad pauses. "Strange, have you? Out of the ordinary?"

A wolf with green eyes? "Like what?"

He shrugs. "Someone hanging around? Anything suspicious?"

I could tell by the way he said _someone_ that he really wants to say some _thing_. And that he's making this up to see if I know anything. "Nope. Why?"

"I thought I saw someone hanging around outside last night. Just want you to be safe."

My stomach churns, a byproduct of the tugging of my skin and the fear of him knowing too much about my wolf. _He knows!_ "Well, if I do see anything out of the ordinary, I'll let you know." By some fluke, my voice doesn't fluctuate.

"Okay." He releases my hand. "There we go. All better."

"Thanks."

His brow scrunches, features and posture as tense as ever. "Dinner's still a while off. Why don't you go lay down?"

"Doctor's orders?"

He nods, stern. There's something else. Something I'm missing. Bad day at work or...?

At the last second, I realize he looks more haggard than usual. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Cass, please go." He's about to lose whatever control he thinks he has on his emotions.

I wander off to my bedroom, dazed. Maybe I will take a nap, forget the crappy day.

But as I enter my bedroom, lit only by a sliver of moon, I feel too alert to sleep. This place is too creepy at night, too many shadows. I flick on my lamp, then grab my bag, and locate my sketchbook and pencils. Clenching my eyes shut, I try to relax, to see what floats into my mind.

The red-eyed pack member skates through my thoughts. I shake my head to rid it of the image. No way am I drawing him. Next, I see him and Seb fighting, claws clashing, tufts of fur flying, a blood bath.

Giving up, I toss the pad. It slides off the comforter and slips to the floor. I sink into my pillows.

A tapping to my left jolts me. I see a figure outside my window. My first thought is that it's one of the skinwalkers coming to tear me to pieces, and that Dad wasn't talking about Seb. The accompanying thought is that it's probably the red-eyed one. But the figure waves and there's a flash of white teeth and glowing, spearmint eyes. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief and skip over to him.

Seb

I scale the maple tree outside of her window, its leaves a pretty coral pink. A lamp by her bed illuminates her, an angel killing time by doing homework. The branch below my feet creaks, ready to snap. I lunge at her Juliet-style balcony, my feet landing lightly on the redwood.

Cass pitches her notebook. It glides off the edge of her bed and collapses on the floorboards. She cusses and sinks further into her pillows.

I tap a knuckle on the glass. Her head snaps up. I wave and point at the lock firmly in place on the sill. She dances over, flips the bolt, and hefts the window open.

"Hi," I say.

"Whatcha doin' here?" she whispers.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you." Nothing unusual, but tonight is different somehow. "Is your dad home?"

"Yeah, that's why we're whispering, Sherlock. Why?"

She's so cute when she's snarky. "Would he mind if I came in?"

"Absolutely." She steps aside. "But what he doesn't know..."

"Won't kill him?" My grin widens. "It might, y'know." I slip into her room. "Window balcony, huh?"

"Yeah, I think the architect was on an acid trip when he or she designed this house. A few oddities."

Something crashes downstairs. I arch an eyebrow at her.

"It's Mom and his wedding anniversary," she says. "Every year, he's fairly pissed. Smashes things." She's quiet for a beat, two. "I try to not hear it, but..." Her eyes glisten. A tear rolls over her flushed cheek. "I can't pretend anymore." More droplets spring free. Drip off her chin.

I meander over to the bed and pat the spot next to me. "C'mere."

Instead, she lies facing away from me. "Let's talk about something else." A sniffle.

I curl up behind her and hear her sigh. She turns over, into my arms. I pull her close, tucking her head under my chin.

"Where're you staying now?" she says.

"Liam Adler's house."

A small smile twists her lips. "Liam?"

"Yeah. He works with me at Roadrunner Records." I pause. "He's not another guy that has a crush on you, right?"

She scowls. "No. Jealous?"

I want her for myself. "Nope."

"Sure."

Another crash, and then another. She flinches and presses her ear to my chest, covering the other with a hand. I place one hand on top of hers. The other rubs circles into her back.

She sobs. "I fucking hate this."

"It's okay. It's okay," I say, reaching down to press my lips to her forehead.

The house grows quiet. Too quiet for my liking.

Cass lifts her eyes to mine. "How'd you know to come at that exact moment?"

I shrug. "Instinct, I guess. I felt like you needed me."

She stares at my lips. I brush them across her nose. She giggles, and I lean closer. There's a heart-stopping moment where I see if she protests. She doesn't. I touch my lips to hers. She returns the kiss and presses herself against me. My fingers dig into her back, weave into her hair. A moment of bliss. An eternity of wonder and fulfillment. Her lips are so soft. I want them on mine forever. Already, she's made my year. How pathetic is that?

Then another smash reverberates through the house. She twitches. I hold her to my chest again.

"You want me to stay?" I say.

She nods. "That'd be nice."

I comb my fingers through her hair. "It'll be okay."

Her dad shouts up the stairs, " _Cassie, dinner_!"

She quivers.

"You don't have to go down. Tell him you're not hungry."

She shakes her head. "That'll only make him angrier tonight." She disconnects from me and stands.

"I'll be right here if you need me."

She reaches over to kiss me, and then smiles. "I'll try to sneak some food for you."

" _Cassandra Louise_!"

"Okay, thanks."

She swivels and scurries to the door.

I spend the next twenty minutes listening to them shout at each other—about her mother, him, her, and surprisingly, about the cupcakes she'd made yesterday and how delicious they are. There is a lot of anger in this house tonight. And I hope to God—or whoever is watching—that I haven't endangered her by being around. Because she's the best thing that's happened to me.

Five minutes later, Cass sneaks in with a tray. "He went to his office," she says, setting the tray on the mattress.

I study her features for any sign of distress. I can't find any, so I say, "Are you okay?"

She nods, solemn, and pushes a dish towards me. "Go on. Try the lamb stew." She slides up next to me.

I crack a smile. "You're not tryin' to poison me, are you?" But I pick up the spoon anyway.

She flashes a grin, teasing. "Why would I do that?"

"So you can get rid of me and grab another Yee Naaldlooshii?"

I meant it as a joke, but she freezes, her face draining of color. It takes me a second to realize that one of them must've cornered her.

I drop my spoon into the bowl. "Which one?" I say, exasperated.

Her eyes widen. "Pardon?"

"Someone from the pack has made contact with you, correct?"

She mumbles, "Correct."

"Who was it? I'll kill them with my bare hands."

She shrugs. "It doesn't matter."

"Cassie, it does. They're after me. And now they're after you, too. Who. Was. It?"

She lowers her eyes. "I don't know his name. But he called the café today."

"While I was there?" I reach for her hand. "That sonofabitch." It had to be Ash. Who else would do it?

"It was just a threat." She swipes at the frosting on a cupcake.

"No, Cass. It's a death sentence."

The following evening, it's my turn to cook. I choose pasta because I know Seb'll be here any minute, and I'd much rather be hanging out with him. And the sooner dinner is over, the sooner I can excuse myself to do 'homework'.

I wonder if he's here already, waiting, and I strain my ears, listening for a scuffle of shoes or creaks that he probably doesn't make. I hear Dad flick through TV channels and settle on a game. _Can't he watch something else for once?_ I dump a handful of spaghetti into the pot of boiling water and inspect the jar of pasta sauce. How long has this been open? A week? Two? With no visible signs of bacteria, I dump the contents into a bowl and zap it in the microwave.

Dad's voice floats in, "Cass?"

"Yep?"

"Come here for a sec?"

I give the noodles a quick stir before skipping into the living room. "Something up, Dad?"

"Just wondering if you're still going to the movies with Eve on Friday."

"That's the plan," I say. "Why?"

He shrugs.

"Don't tell me you're gonna have a party without me!"

His lips curl upwards. "I might, who knows?"

My eyebrows hike towards my hairline. Since when has he been the partying type?

"Kidding. But I might have the guys around. We haven't had a poker night in a while."

"Sounds good." I jog back into the kitchen to check on dinner. Not boiling over, not overcooked. All is well. Should I see if Seb's here? No. I shake my head to temporarily rid it of thoughts of him. I'll forget about dinner and probably burn the house down.

When the pasta is cooked, I drain it, spooning sauce and cheese over the top. Good enough. I wander back into the living room and hand him a bowl.

"Sit," he says. "What do you wanna watch?"

I chew on my lip. I'd been planning to eat in my room. But now I feel like I should stay.

He nods towards the other end of the couch. "Come on."

The landline shrills. Saved by the phone.

Dad picks up the handset. "Hello?" He listens for a moment, and then looks at me. "It's Liam." He hands me the cordless.

My brow melds. Why's he calling me? We're barely friends—acquaintances—nowadays. I take it into my room. Sure enough, Seb's leaning against the window.

I return his smile, pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Cass, is Seb there?" Liam says.

I place my dinner on the side table. "Ah, sure. Just a sec."

Seb crosses the room in three strides.

"It's Liam. He wants to talk to you."

He takes the phone. "Yeah?" He listens for a long moment, turning away from me. "When did this happen?"

I see him pinch the bridge of his nose.

His hand balls. "Okay, thanks. Yeah, I'll be here. Tell her to call Cass' cell if she rings again." He rattles off my cell number before hanging up, flinging the handset onto my bed.

I wait for him to speak. A minute passes. Two. "Seb?" I secure an arm around his waist.

"I left my cell at the house. Mom called it. Dad's furious."

"At who?" I try to spread out his fingers.

"Everyone. Me. The elders. The pack." His eyes swerve to mine. "You."

"Little old me? What did I do to piss him off?"

"Because I defied him, the pack, and risked everything to save you." He pulls me to his chest. "He's convinced I wouldn't be running for my life if it weren't for you."

He's probably right. "And what do you think?"

"It was foreseeable; they'd grown tired of my increasing humanity." His arms tighten. "You might've ignited the fuse, honeybee, but that bomb's been ticking for a while." He sniffs at the air. "You bring dinner again?"

"That's mine," I say, "but if you're hungry, you can take a bite outta me."

He catches my wrist, lifts it to his height, and trails the tip of his nose over my veins. "Tempting." He smiles, eyes hungry. "But you're safe. I already ate. Mrs. Adler made lasagna."

I perch on the edge of my bed, twisting a forkful of spaghetti.

He sits next to me. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Yep?"

"I have tickets to Muse, and I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?"

"Like, a date?" I mumble through a mouthful.

He nods. "I was gonna take Kat, but—"

"Won't he be kinda disappointed?" Wouldn't want him to alienate his last friend.

"He'll get over it. So?"

A date! I've had a boyfriend before, but things seem different with Seb. He's more mature and reliable. And so incredibly handsome. "Sure. Sounds awesome."

"Great. Can't wait."

Me neither.

I finish the last bits of dinner as Seb kicks off his shoes and slides onto the bed.

"What're you doing?" I say, cautious as he kneels behind me.

"Never you mind." He combs his fingers through my hair, separating it into three segments.

I check him out in the mirror by my bed. He's weaving clumps together. "Wow, you're good at this," I say. No stray strands. Neat and precise as he interlaces the sections. "Should I be worried?"

He chuckles. "I used to braid Mom's hair before ceremonies." The corners of his lips jerk into a scowl, and then back into a half smile. "Dad's hopeless at this sorta stuff."

He misses her, like I miss mine.

I sigh. "Mom used to braid my hair."

"Yeah? Where is she, anyway?"

"She died a long time ago." I swipe at the moisture in my eyes.

"Oh." His hands keep moving, merging strands. "Elastic?"

I hand him one. "Do you miss home?"

He fastens the band, and then hugs me, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Home is wherever _you_ are."

I place my hands on top of his. "I second that."

I take her hand as we stroll down East Adams Street. "Thought we'd go to dinner first. Is that okay?"

"I'm starved."

"I'll take that as a yes." I steer her towards Bagels of Glory.

She gasps. "Bagels!"

"I did good?"

Stretching on her toes, she touches her lips to mine. "It's perfect." She giggles and peers through the window.

I pull her back for another kiss.

"Hey, no fair," she says, half-hearted.

"Kisses are better when stolen." I hold open the door for her. "Now, you choose what you want, no holding back."

Her eyes glaze over as she takes in everything in the display cases. "Wow."

"Hi." The cashier grins. "Can I help you?"

"We're gonna need a minute," I say.

"Too many choices," Cass says.

I chuckle. "Maybe two minutes."

We decide on two flavors each and choose a table by the window.

"Where does your dad think you are?" I say.

"At home, curled up with _The Darkest Minds_."

"Not out with the enemy?" I smirk.

She scowls. "Stop thinking of yourself as a monster."

"Or what?" I kiss her knuckles, restraining a smirk.

"Or—" She picks up her bagel, swipes her finger through the jam and cream cheese, then sticks it in her mouth. "—you'll have to walk around with jam on your face." She giggles.

"I can think of worse tortures."

"Oh, I don't know. I reckon you'd look pretty silly with strawberry seeds stuck on you." She moves the bread closer towards my nose—an empty threat, we both know.

I smile and lunge, ripping a bite off with my teeth.

"Hey!" She pouts. "No fair."

"You can have some of my chocolate one."

She leans over and takes a bite. "Yum. I should've gotten chocolate."

"I'll get you one to go." I swipe at a smudge of cream cheese on her upper lip.

She blushes. My hand lingers, skimming over her flushed cheek. Her lips jerk into a smile. I let my hand drop to the table, close to hers.

I catch her sneaking a peek at her watch. "Expecting another date soon or...?"

She bursts out laughing. "If I was, I'd cancel."

"Oh? Why?"

She trails her fingers over the back of my hand. "'Cause this is more perfect than I could ever imagine." Her eyes meet mine.

"It's the bagels, isn't it, that tipped the scale?"

She shakes her head. "They're just the cherry on top. The real prize is..." She hesitates. "You."

"I'm the sweet goodness?" I beam. "Well, I could say the same about you."

Her cheeks flush beetroot-red again. Maybe no one's adored her like I do. Or told her how beautiful she is, even under florescent lights. And, just _maybe_ she's not used to taking compliments.

But I love her anyway.

"Nearly time for the concert," she says, showing me her watch.

"Well, we'd better get eating, then." I stuff the remaining half into my mouth.

She snickers, leaning over to kiss the chocolate off my lips.

"Hey, no fair!" I mock.

"Kisses are better when stolen."

While she's giggling her sweet little head off, I buy four chocolate bagels and a small tub of cream cheese and jam.

"You ready to go?" I say when I return to our table.

She hops up. "Yep!" Appraises the bag. "What's that?"

"For after."

"Ooh." She shrugs into her jacket.

I try to help, but she slaps my hands away.

Her brow creases. "I'm capable of doing it myself."

Feisty, as Kat had alleged. "Never said you weren't."

I hold open the door and she slips out into the night, a cold breeze washing over us. She zips up her coat and hugs herself.

I drop the to-go bag in the back, opening the passenger door. "I'll get the heat started in a sec."

She nods, teeth chattering, and slips in. Ten seconds later, heat seeps from the vents.

She relaxes and smiles at me. "Thank God for heaters."

***

After the concert, as we're driving home, Cass looks at me and says, "Are you real? This date is too perfect. _You_ are too perfect."

How do I react to being called perfect by an angel? "I am. Real, I mean."

Her arm extends and her finger pokes my arm. "Just checking you're not an apparition."

"Seen a lot of ghosts, Cass?" I tease.

She shakes her head. "Sometimes, I think I see my mother around the house. But it's usually just light and reflections." She breathes a sigh.

I take one hand off the steering wheel and entwine my fingers in hers. "There's a few spirits on the rez. Ancient warriors." I switch my foot to the brake as we come up to a set of lights. "But if you poke them, it just makes them mad." A smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

"Really?"

"Naw, you can't poke something unless it's tangible." The light changes to green. I wait for the sedan in front of me to move, and then I ease forwards.

"I object, Mr. Nat'aanii." She lifts her chin a little.

"You do? You think physics is wrong?"

"No. But you can totally poke something incorporeal," she says. "Doesn't mean it'll work."

I guffaw. "You're absolutely right."

She smiles, smug, and traces her thumb over mine as she stares out of the window. Houses and trees whip by. Too soon, we'll arrive in Aeston. Too soon, I'll have to let her go. I want to lengthen the night somehow, stop the sun from coming up, freeze time and make her mine forever. Reluctantly, I swing into her street. A sheriff cruiser sits in her driveway.

"Stop here," she says. "It's my uncle."

I pull over to the curb and retrieve the bagels.

Leaning over, she presses her lips to mine. "I had an amazing time."

"Me too." I return her grin.

"I'm going to the movies with Eve tomorrow night, but come over Saturday?"

"Just try to keep me away." I smirk.

"Good night."

I steal another kiss. "Night. Sleep well."

She climbs out, shuts the door, and then waves. I watch until she gets inside, and then head for Liam's.

Mrs. Adler meets me at the door. "How did it go?"

I feel my smile widen. "It was..." How to sum up the best night of my life? Or my sassy date? "Awesome." That didn't even begin to summarize it.

"Good!" She wanders into the kitchen.

I follow.

"Tea?" she says.

"Sure." I sit at the table. "How was your evening?"

"Had the house to myself." The corners of her lips drag upwards.

"And what did you do?" I have an inkling.

"Baked a nice lime cheesecake."

Indeed she did.

"Would you like a piece?"

"Sure."

"Ice cream?"

"Need you ask?"

She chuckles and fills the kettle with water. "Liam says the same."

Sometimes, it's like we're brothers—similar—but opposite in many ways.

"Where'd you go for dinner?"

"Bagels of Glory."

"Ooh. Was it nice?"

"'Too many choices!' Cass said."

"Your father—" She stops, looking at me. "Liam's father took me there once."

How kind, that the lady—who took me in only a week ago—thinks of me as her son. An adoptive son, to say the least.

"I'm glad you two had a good time." She strokes my shoulder. "It's just been her and her dad for so long now."

"What happened to her mom? Cass just said she'd died a long time ago."

She glances at me, probably debating whether she should say something. "Cassie should be the one to tell you." Turning away, she begins unloading the dishwasher.

"Please tell me," I find myself saying. "I don't want to upset her by asking."

She places a mug on the counter, and then heaves a sigh. Without turning to face me, she says, "It was cancer. Ate away at her brain." She resumes the chore. "I don't want you to bring it up around her."

"I won't, I promise." I never want to make her sad.

"Libby and I grew up together. The Adlers and the Spencers were woven tighter than a knit cap—until she..." As if distracted before, she remembers the cheesecake and tugs it out of the fridge. "Big or small slice?"

"Big." But my mind is busy with thoughts of Cass. Had I known she was lonely, I would've shown myself sooner. But I guess one does not always know when another is in peril.

Eve picks me up at seven in her pink Beetle.

"Hiya!" she says.

"Hey." I hop in and buckle my belt just in time for her to roar off. I clamp my fingers around the handle. "Try not to get us killed."

She glares at me. "I'm a perfectly safe driver." She brakes hard to avoid a turning SUV.

If you say so.

"I saw you last night," she says.

My head snaps around in her direction. "You were in downtown Phoenix?"

"Nah. I saw you in a car, leaving Aeston—couldn't see the driver, but I know it was a guy..." She smiles at me, eyes bright with curiosity.

"That was, uh, Seb."

Her smile sags. "The freak?" She shakes her head. "Thought you knew better, Cassie."

"He's not what you think." _Don't say too much!_

" _Sure_ he's not," she says. "Tell me then."

"I—I can't."

"Aww, is it a secret?"

"Don't be such a jerkface, Eve." I cross my arms over my chest and stare out of the window.

"My apologies, Your Highness." She swings into the cinema's parking lot and chooses a slot by the door. "But seriously." She cuts the engine and turns to face me. "You like him? He didn't hypnotize you or anything?"

_Like_ seems too weak a word to use. "No hypnotism required. No bribing, either."

"Wow." She stabs the lock button on the key fob. "I'm impressed."

"What about you and Whitney?"

"Yeah, that took a little persuasiveness, on his part." She hooks her arm in mine as we cross the lot.

"You weren't so keen? How come?"

She shrugs. "I've known him since, like, elementary school."

"And?"

"It's a little weird." She scrunches her nose. "But hey, I'm not one to knock a gift date in the mouth."

I burst out laughing. "Good thing. There might not be a second one."

She shoves me gently. "Shut up."

I smile. "Never."

Tugging open the door, she lets me pass. "What'd you wanna see?" She leads me to the candy bar, where Eve grabs a massive container of gummy worms.

I shrug and fill a medium cup with cola.

"Would you mind seeing _City of Mayhem_ again? Miles sorta made it sound epic."

"That'd be fine." I suppress a fan-girl scream.

"No spoilers," she says, heading for the ice cream freezer.

I eye the wall of candy. So much to choose from, just like last night with the bagels. As Eve returns with two chocolate-covered cones, I decide on chocolate buttons and gummy bears.

"I heard they changed a few things from the book," she says.

We move towards the cashier.

"A lot," I say. "Like, _everything_."

"Hm."

I grab two packets of barbeque chips. For all the times Eve and I clash, I'm glad the one thing we do agree on is potato chip flavor.

"We'll grab dinner after, eh?" she says. "A late dinner?"

"Sure." If I'm not overstuffed with junk food by then.

We approach the cashier. I tug out my purse.

"This one's on me," she says.

"You sure?"

"You can get the next one."

"Okay, cool. Thanks."

"You can thank me by telling me more about your date."

I roll my eyes and tell her everything, devoid of specifics of the skinwalkers.

***

I check my cell again. No messages or missed calls. What is taking Eve so long to answer? Her usual time frame is immediate. I text Miley: _Heard from Eve?_

There was a missed call from Riley, Eve's younger brother, a little while ago, but before I think of returning it, my cell chirrups. The screen flashes MILEY.

I punch the answer button. "Hey."

She sniffles. "Guess you haven't heard." It sounds like she's been crying.

"Heard about what, Miles?" I hear her blow her nose.

"Evie's missing. Her parents say she didn't come home last night."

Ribbons of ice twist around my spine. Am I the last person to have seen her? The window creaking open behind me barely registers in my brain. "Oh?" I manage. My throat is stuffed with cotton balls, drying out my mouth.

Seb pads over to me. The handset trembles at my ear. _Eve. Where are you?_

"Yeah," Miley says. "Her car's in their driveway and everything."

He bends to meet my bleak eyes. "Cass, everything okay?"

This provokes her interest. "Who's that?" And even in the midst of a crisis, classic Miley rears her head. "He sounds hot."

"I'll tell you later." Minus the my-boyfriend's-a-wolf bit.

"Okay." She sniffles. "So have you heard anything from her? Has Eve called?"

"Nope."

"Did she say or do anything weird when she dropped you off?"

"No, everything was normal. We had a great time at the movies, went to dinner, and then she dropped me off around midnight."

"Hmm. It's just fishy, you know? Her car's there, but she's not."

"Yeah. I hope they find her, and soon."

"I'm sure your uncle is on top of it."

"Yeah..."

In the background, I can hear her mom calling her.

"I'd better go. Marcus and the bitchface are here."

"Okay. Take care."

"You, too."

I hang up and crumble into his arms.

"What's up?" He tucks my head under his chin.

I bawl, salt water spilling over my cheeks. "My friend... is missing."

His arms tighten. "What can I do, honeybee?"

"Stay. Right here." My fingers seize fistfuls of his shirt.

"I can do that. As long as you need me."

"That might be a long time."

He touches his lips to my forehead. "I got time." He rocks me gently. "I've always got time for you, Cass."

His touch is comforting, strong. I am but a tiny child in his arms. I almost forget my worries altogether. But then they wallop my brain as they return.

Eve's absence can't be good. She isn't the type to run from her problems. Or even to disappear. That's what the cops will put it down as—teenage angst. But I know better. Her awareness of the Yee Naaldlooshii is too much of a coincidence for me to disparage.

I'll find out who took her. And I'll make them pay.

Whatever it takes.

***

Kat traipses through the open front door, swiftly followed by Seb with three pizza boxes.

"You sure your dad's out?" Kat says. "Don't wanna get a boot up my ass for trespassin'."

"It's fine," I say. "He's on night shift."

Seb's lips brush against mine. "How're ya doin'?"

I shrug. "I've baked cupcakes—"

"Ooh, cupcakes," interjects Kat.

"—and muffins and made enough dinners to last a month, but I still feel as if there's something else I could be doing—something to bring Evie home."

"What're your theories?" Seb directs us towards the couch.

Kat steals the top box, ripping open the lid.

"I think," I say, "that one of you kidnapped her."

Kat freezes, eyes wide.

"Not you two." I gesture between them. "But another one of your kind."

Seb hands me a slice. "Why do you think that?" He isn't skeptical, just purely intrigued by the thought.

"'Cuz we're evil bastards," Kat mumbles through a mouthful.

I ignore him. "Because she knows too much. She knows that you guys are blood-thirsty, evil sons of bitches." I take Seb's hand in mine. "They're trying to get to you through me."

Kat snitches two more slices. "She's right, y'know—"

"Shut up for a sec." Seb stares into my eyes. "Say they are trying to mess with you—why not take your dad? Why Eve?"

I shrug. "You know them better than I do. You tell me."

The house grows quiet. The only sound we hear is Kat's insufferable chewing.

"You could be right," he says.

"She _is_ right," Kat replies around a mouthful of pizza.

"Well, then we'd better find out."

I pick up another wedge. "Sooner rather than later, please."

"This's astonishingly good pizza," Kat says. "Who makes it?"

"Coincidentally," I say, taking a bite, "Kool Kat."

"Huh." He places a hand over his heart. "I feel honored to have a restaurant named after me."

I snort. Seb guffaws.

Kat slurps the soda I set out for him. "It's not like you guys have anything named after you."

Someone knocks on the front door. A radio garbles a female dispatcher's voice.

I stiffen. "Hide!" I push them up the stairs, towards my room. "It's my uncle."

"He'll know we were here," Seb says.

Confused, I whisper-yell, "What?"

"Never mind."

The bedroom door shuts. Uncle Scott raps again.

I jog down the hall. "I'm coming!" I rip open the door.

"Hey, Cass," he says, irises burning with sympathy.

"You know about Eve."

His fingers squeeze my shoulder. "I'm very sorry."

"Yeah, everyone is."

He lets his hand fall. "I'm—"

"Don't. Say. Sorry."

He nods. "Fair enough." His eyes catch something of interest over my shoulder. "Do you have company?"

I still. Surely, he can't be speaking of Kat and Seb. Then, my eyes follow his gaze to the coffee table—three sodas, three open pizza boxes. That must be what Seb meant about him knowing they were there.

"Nope." My lips smack together and make a popping sound on the _p_.

His suspicious gaze lingers on me, and I almost confess everything.

"That's a lot of pizza for one girl."

_Lie._ "Yeah, you know, wallowing in self-pity." _Don't make yourself sound suicidal!_ I mentally _thunk_ the heel of my palm to my forehead. Why couldn't I've said Miley was here?

He rocks back on his heels. "Oh, Cass. Maybe I should call your dad."

My heartbeat kicks into overdrive. "No. Please don't. I was kidding." I scramble through my brain for something to add to this convoluted mess. "Miles and Xay are here."

At the same moment, something crashes in the vicinity of my bedroom. I cringe and pray it's not my glass desk. Lizzy purrs, tangling herself in my feet.

Perfect! I pick her up. "Lizzy scratched her. Xay's putting ointment on her hands."

The cat jumps from my arms. She flicks me an annoyed stare, and then ambles into the living room.

"She's always been a spirited thing."

I nod.

"Mind if I come in for a bit? I have some questions for you."

"Sure." Stepping aside, I open the door wider, and then press it shut behind me.

"So, you and Eve went to the movies last night, right?"

"Yes. And then we had a late dinner."

"Where'd you go for dinner?"

"Black Moon, the restaurant on Cherry Street."

"Okay." He scribbles that down on his notepad. "And what time did she drop you off?"

"Eleven forty-five."

As I answer more of his questions, doubt is nibbling away at me. What if they don't find her? What if they think I have a connection to her disappearance?

A few minutes later, after Uncle Scott has exhausted me with all of his questions, he says, "I best get going." He hugs me. "Stay strong, Cass. We'll find Eve." He turns and clunks down the steps.

Every time someone says her name, or mentions her absence, a little piece of me dies inside. My heart is a searing core of melancholy.

I don't hear them return. But I feel Seb's hands on me. See the light disappearing as Kat shuts the door.

Seb swipes tears from my cheeks. "Cass?"

"It's too much." Last week, I was a single gal and my only troubles were buying too many books and trying not to overdose on caffeine. My world has done a one-eighty, and my head is spinning as I try to catch up.

Kat strokes my shoulder. "Hey, you wanna hear a joke?"

I peek at him through my lashes.

"When the lady saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye." He snickers.

My eyes brim with tears.

Seb's arms tighten around me. "Dude, you're not helping."

Kat shrugs and mumbles, "Sorry." He slumps into the couch. "Just tryin' to lighten the mood."

I sniffle.

"Hey, hey." Seb's hands move to cup my face. "Kat and I will do _everything_ we can to find her."

"We will?"

Seb pitches him a glare sharper than a wolf's incisors.

He clears his throat. "We will." Picks up the TV remote.

Keeping me close, Seb relocates us to the couch—me in the middle. Kat flicks through channels and settles on a sitcom. He jostles me with his elbow as he guffaws.

I'm pleased he can entertain himself. I'm no longer in the mood to play hostess.

I am numb.

Lost.

C'mon, get up." I rip the blankets off Cass.

Her glare, an inferno. "Is this the tough love approach?"

"Maybe."

"Go away." She tries to yank the covers back up.

I sweep her into my arms. Her protests are weak, and she gives up. I stand her in front of her wardrobe.

"What are we doing?"

I open her closet doors.

"It's not time for spring cleaning." She spins away.

I catch her wrist. "It's been fourteen hours, Cass. And I've been watching you slip away." I choose a dark pair of jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt. "I can't handle it anymore. I'm losing you."

Her voice is as dead and flat as roadkill. "You're not losing me." She tries to jerk her hand free. "Lemme go."

"No."

"Let me go! My friend is _dead_!"

"Sweetie, you don't know that for sure."

"As good as, then."

"This isn't you talking. You're a fighter, Cass."

"How the hell would you know?"

"It's the grief." I hand her the clothes. "Put these on."

"Why, so you can kidnap me, too?"

"No. I'm taking you to lunch," I say.

"Not hungry."

I sigh. "If I wanted to Cassie-nap you, it'd be in the dead of night." I feel her tense.

Her eyes widen. "Like midnight." Her grip on my hand slackens as she meets my eyes. "The movie finished at ten. We got some burgers and fries at ten-thirty. Eve dropped me off at eleven forty-five. Her car's in their driveway."

She's right. "It was an ambush."

"We've got to do something."

"Kat and I—we'll think something up." Maybe plan an ambush of our own...

"I want to come."

Her sudden audacity shocks me. "What? No. No way."

"Please. She's my bestie," she says. "What if it were Kat in trouble?"

I heave a sigh. "I'll see. No promises."

She hugs me, snatching the clothes. "Turn around, mister."

I spin away. "Are you gonna tell me why the sudden change?"

"I feel as if I _need_ to help her, save her from those _beasts_. Don't know why."

Maybe she has some of the Hunter gene in her chromosomes after all. And here we thought it was only the males—like her father and uncle—that grow up to be Hunters and destroy my kind. Maybe it's diluted for her.

She taps me on the shoulder, and I swivel to face her.

"Where're we going for lunch?" she says.

"Where'd you wanna go?"

Five minutes after, we're sitting on a bench in the park.

I twirl a lock of her blonde hair in my fingers. "What d'ya feel like eating?"

She shrugs, her mouth set in a semi-permanent frown.

"C'mon." I brush my lips across her forehead. "What do you feel like?"

The slight breeze ruffles her hair. She shifts closer to me. "Burger and fries. And a big sundae with hot fudge and sprinkles." Her lips quiver, fighting a grin.

"Oh? Quite an appetite for someone who ten minutes ago said she wasn't hungry. I'll see what I can do..." From the corner of my eyes, I look at her. "You'll be okay by yourself?"

She groans and shoves me. "Go."

I kiss her before jogging across the road to Java Joe's and placing my order.

Kat and I plan to speak to the pack while Cass is at school on Tuesday. If we return in one piece, I'll tell her everything. If not...

I hate to think of the alternative.

Minutes pass. As I wait for my order, I refine our plan for Tuesday in my head.

The girl who Cass tells me is Eloise smiles at me. "Seb?" She hands me two cardboard containers and two plastic cups. "Have a super awesome day. Tell Cass I said hi."

"I will."

When I return, Cassie's smiling.

"What is that?" I say, leaning close. "A grin?" I steal a kiss, and then pass her a container.

"Y'know what?" she says. "This does make me feel better." She leans over to press her lips to mine. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. And Eloise says hi."

"Oh?" She shovels fries into her mouth. "I'm not looking forward to this week—school. Everyone will know. They'll pester me for answers, any spare detail the police may've left out."

"Your uncle's pretty thorough, though. I doubt they missed anything."

"Mmm." Her eyes shift out of focus. She's somewhere else.

I leave her be, watching the birds swoop and weave through trees.

A moment later, Cass snaps out of her reverie, unaware time has passed. "Will I ever be able to introduce you to Dad, bring you home without sneaking you in?"

He already knows what I am. But she seems not to know who he is. How can that be? "I don't know."

"I dream of us not having to hide."

I steal a quick glance around us. "We're out in the open. We're not doing a good job at hiding."

She chuckles. "You know what I mean—from our parents."

_I_ _dream of being with you forever, no matter the struggle or consequence_ , I think. "I hope so."

Her brow puckers. "I'd hate to be forced to choose between family and you."

"I already have. I chose you."

In English, I sit next to Eve's vacant seat, pretending it's an average day at school. That everyone's heads aren't hanging low. That Mrs. Browne isn't staring at Eve's desk. That my heart is flawless, unbroken.

It lasts precisely two minutes until the classroom door opens and Mrs. Adams, the school counselor's assistant, shuffles in. Her gaze hovers on me for a beat too long.

Eve's friends have been disappearing from our shared classes all day. Now it's my turn. Time to face my hell.

Silently, I shove my books and pencil case back into my bag and stride up the aisle of students. Mrs. Adams drapes an arm over my shoulders, leading me into the hallway.

The counselor's office is in the next building. When we arrive, Miley is leaving. She shoots me a weak smile, dries her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, and says, "See you at lunch."

Mrs. Adams knocks on the counselor's door.

_Do not cry. Don't you_ dare _cry!_

Seb

Chad hands me a large box. "Sort these."

"Someone spends way too much of his free time on Amazon," I tease, dropping the box beside the counter.

"Hey, if it weren't for my studliness, customers would stop buying CDs from us."

I snort and pry open the cardboard flaps.

"We'd be out of business."

A man in a faded AC/DC shirt steps up to the counter. "Do you have the latest ZZ Top album?"

I shake my head as I bag his purchase. "Sorry, no."

Chad crouches and rifles through the box. He straightens, flashes us a blinding grin, and waves _La Futura_ in front of us.

"How much?" says AC/DC guy.

"Hmmmm. Fifteen. 'Cuz I happen to be a lover of AC/DC."

"Cool, thanks."

I ring that up, too. "Forty bucks."

The bell above the door jingles. Cass wanders in and pretends to examine the Florence and the Machine display stand. She selects a CD and stares at it—upside down.

Something's wrong. I can feel it, the tension rolling off her shoulders. I hand the customer his change and wait the five tremendously long seconds for him to leave.

The store is empty now, apart from us, and Chad in the back room. I sneak up on her and wrap my arms around her. "Can I interest you in a _Ceremonials_ CD?"

Her brow creases further. "Pardon?"

"The one you're pretending to read."

"Oh." She replaces it on the stand.

My arms tighten, and I kiss her cheek.

"Should you be fondling potential customers?" She giggles weakly. "I should complain to the manager," she quips, turning in my arms.

"That would be me," I say.

"Ah." She seems distracted again.

"Wanna talk—?"

"I sincerely _hope_ that's your girlfriend, Abandoned One." Chad had appeared in the doorway that led to storage and his office.

Cass flicks an inquisitive glace at me.

"That's what Hok'ee means," I say. "Abandoned."

"And your surname?" she says.

Chad guffaws. I want to punch him.

"Nat'aanii—leader."

Whatever troubled her seconds before vanishes from her features. She bursts with laughter. "Abandoned Leader?"

"Ironic, right?" I say, a smile curling my lips. I'm thrilled to see her happy again, even for a fleeting moment. Even if she's poking fun.

Chad disappears into his office. She sobers. My hand reaches up to touch her cheek.

Instead, she buries her face in my chest. "It was awful."

"What was, Cass?"

"School." Her voice is muffled by my T-shirt. "Counselor."

My brain joins the dots of what she'd failed to mention. "About Eve."

"I'm, like, the star witness—last one to see her alive." She gulps in breaths. "There were so many questions."

"I'm sure there were. It must've been awful."

"I feel sick. Truly sick."

"No yacking on the carpet," Chad says from his office.

" _Nice_ ," she says. "Way to kick a girl when she's down."

"Ignore him." I tow her behind the counter and sit her in my chair. "Think of him as a nipping puppy. All bark and no bite."

" _Hey, I totally bite_!"

"She doesn't want to hear about your sexcapades, Chad," I say over my shoulder.

Cass wrinkles her nose and mouths, " _Sexcapades_."

"Like I said, ignore him." I brush a clump of her hair back. "Feeling better?"

"A little, I guess."

"Can I get you anything? A snack? The place next door makes a pretty wicked sundae."

"Sure. Ice cream will fix all my problems. It should run for president."

I know she doesn't mean to be spiteful. "I'll get you a massive one, then," I say, swiveling in the direction of Chad's office. "You lay one filthy finger on her and I'll rip your insides out."

"I can take care of myself," she says.

I don't doubt her for a second.

Cassie

Five seconds after Seb leaves, Chad appears in the doorway behind the counter. "Cassie, right?"

I eye him, wary. "Yeah."

"Great to finally meet you. Seb talks about you a _lot_. Like, he won't shut up about you."

"Um, thanks?"

"He's a great guy."

"The best."

"And it's awesome how he wants to be a musician and everything..."

This catches me by surprise.

Chad's eyes dart over my features. "Can't sing for his damn supper, but plays guitar like a freakin' _god_."

Hm. Why haven't I heard of this? "Guitar?"

Chad nods, picking at his nails. "Got a divine talent, that one."

Seb prods open the door.

Chad perks up. "Ah, we were just talking about you!" He leaps forwards.

Seb arches an eyebrow, cutting his eyes to me.

"Musician, hey?" I accept the plastic cup he holds out to me.

He rolls his eyes skywards. "It's just a hobby." He shoots his boss a glare.

Chad vanishes into his office.

Seb collects another chair and sets it beside me. "If I had any choice in my future, I'd probably be an engineer or something to do with mechanics."

"What do you mean _if I had any choice_?" I toss the lid onto the counter.

He passes me a spoon. "The elders," he scowls, "dictate our future."

"You're not under their rules anymore. The way I see it, you can do anything you want. Go to college. Get married. Heck, be a muso."

He shakes his head. "Just 'cuz I ran away from my pack doesn't mean I escape _them_. I'm still their puppet."

"We could both apply to colleges."

"You're not hearing me, Cass."

"I am. I simply choose not to accept your _predestined_ future as the only option."

"You're a pain in the ass sometimes."

"I know." My lips quirk into a smile. "Supposedly, I got that from my mother as well."

"She must've been a tremendous woman." His brow knits together. "Brave."

I spoon some dessert into my mouth. "She was." She still is to me.

"I got you something else." His hand dives into his front pocket. Extracting a foiled object, he proffers his palm to me.

A heart-shaped chocolate.

I feel a grin spread across my face. It's the little things like this that make me happy, that matter to me. I snatch it and heave myself onto his lap, planting kisses all over his face. "Thanks. So much."

He rubs my nose with his, and then touches his lips to mine. "You're welcome."

Two customers enter. Hopping off his lap, I slink over to my chair, giddy. I stay until closing time, feeling steadier in his presence.

Seb counts the cash in the register before turning to me. "What're you doing tonight?"

I shrug. "Homework." I'm so behind.

His face falls a little. "Oh."

"Why? What were you thinking?"

"You could come home with me, for a bit."

Tempting. "Hm, I don't know," I tease. "I'll have to see if I can cancel my other date. With, y'know, Marcus."

His eyes flare with loathing. "I hope you're joking."

"I am."

"So?" He closes the door behind him and turns the key in the lock.

" _Okay_. Since you begged me to come." I wink at him. And hey, Mrs. Adler usually has freshly baked goodies waiting, from what I can recall.

"You drove here, right?"

"Yeah." I kiss his cheek. "I'll meet you at the Adler's."

Three minutes later, I pull in behind Seb. He motions for me to follow. I hop out, jogging to catch up. He slips inside.

Mrs. Adler sashays into the hall. "Hi Seb. How was work?"

"Fine," he says. "I brought home a stray, hope you don't mind."

She peers around the corner at me. "Cassie!" She pulls me into a hug. "Gosh, it's been too long!"

Mom and Sarah were best friends. She was like a second mother to me, Liam a brother—but after Mom died, our families drifted apart and we lost contact. A side effect of death.

It seems Seb has reunited us again, and I gotta say, it's lovely to be back.

"Are you hungry?" she says to both of us.

"Starved," Seb says.

I nod. "Same."

She tows me into the kitchen, pressed to her side. I bet Seb's been telling _her_ about me as well. Has he told everyone?

"I have tomato soup. Or I could whip you up some quesadillas?"

"I'll take one of the latter."

"Same." Seb sits adjacent to me. "Double order."

"Quesadillas all around!" She looks at us. "Run along. I'll bring them to you."

I hop up. "Thanks." I find the living room without any guidance, sinking into the couch next to him. A thought has been bothering me for the last couple of minutes, so I voice it. "Hey, does Sarah have any idea of what you are?"

"Yep. Her grandmother used to be a very superstitious woman, apparently, and Sarah grew up listening to her stories." His fingers are lightly skimming up and down my arm. "Of course, like most people, she didn't believe them at all."

"Until she saw you."

"Yeah..."

The next moments pass in comfortable silence, and then I redirect the conversation back to careers. "I'd like to revisit this _future_ business."

"Naturally you would," he mumbles under his breath.

"Just imagine for a minute—if there were no restrictions, what would you do?"

He thinks for a moment, and then meets my eyes. "I'd get away from Arizona, buy us a house, and get you the biggest damn rock for your finger." He reaches for my hand. "Marry you."

"I'd like to add an apple tree to this plan, if I'm to be included. And a dog named Fido. And a ginormous kitchen that we can cook and bake apple pies in all day."

"You do love your apples."

"And a darkroom, a library, and a—"

He chuckles. "I'll get you anything you want. But Cass, one thing at a time. Our safety's the number-one priority."

Nodding, I kiss him. I can see my future in his eyes. I was born for this, to love him, to want things that I never could've imagined before. Seb's my destiny. And I couldn't be happier.

"What's that smile for?" he says, tracing my lips with his thumb.

"You." My heart swells and thuds in my ears.

"I wanna spend forever seeing you smile and listening to you laugh." He cradles my face.

"Me, too. Forever." Can it be long enough?

***

The next morning before school, I visit the Murphey's.

Xavier's outside playing with Riley when I pull up outside of the beige home. They both offer me a grim smile as I cross the grass, and Xay rises to greet me.

"Hey, Cass."

"Hey." Sparing a quick glance towards the house, I say, "Miley's here?"

"Yep. She wanted to visit."

I crouch in front of Riley as he plays with his matchbox cars, ruffling his hair. "How're you doing, bud?"

"When is Eve coming back?"

I can feel Xavier's uncertainty mix with my own, though I reply, "Soon, Ry. Soon."

He stops pushing the tiny Ferrari along, but he doesn't look up.

Leaving them to play, I venture inside. I locate Miley and Eve's mom in the kitchen.

After hugging Hazel and Miley, and giving them both a sincere "we'll find her," Hazel offers me a mug of coffee.

I take it, grab a cookie from the plate, and sit next to my friend.

"I still can't believe this is happening to us," Hazel says, her voice quivering. "Why my Evie?" Her hands creep up to shield her face as she cries.

We'd all like to know the answer to that question. If the Taylor pack is trying to inflict as much pain on us as they can, without torturing us themselves, why not take Dad? As much as I'm upset over Eve's disappearance, I'd be devastated if he suddenly dropped off the face of the earth.

The grief in this house is palpable, draped over the furniture and light fixtures like gauze. I can't imagine what her parents are going through. They must be out of their minds with worry. I would be.

"So," Miley says as Hazel dabs the corner of her sweatshirt over her eyes and lowers her hands to her lap, "you said earlier that Eve texted you just after eleven-thirty, to let you know she was on her way home?"

"That's right, yes. Bruce was locking up for the night—Eve has a spare key—when he noticed her car in the driveway. The hood was barely warm when we went to investigate."

"Okay. Well, thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Murphey." Miley sets down her mug and attempts to wiggle mine free from my hands. "We'd best get going."

It's apparent she has something to tell me that she doesn't want to say in front of Eve's mom, so I relinquish the mug and rise with her.

"Thanks for dropping in," sniffle, "and occupying Riley. You girls take care, okay?" Overcome with anxiety, or possibly fear for her daughter, she bursts into tears.

Outside, Miley drags me over to a corner of the yard, out of both Hazel and Riley's earshot.

"What is it?" I say.

"Which shoes was she wearing that night?"

Random question, but okay, I'll play along. "Umm. Converse? Yeah, black-studded Chucks. Why?"

"Hazel said they found one of her sneakers a few paces away from the car. But there wasn't any blood or traces of a struggle. It just looks as if she was—"

"Overpowered."

"Yeah." She tips her head to one side. "How'd you know I was going to say that?"

"Lucky guess..."

Seb

Instead of walking into their territory to interrogate Ash—that would be a suicide mission—I sent Kat to find out anything he could about Eve's disappearance. Two hours after I sent him away, while I'm scouring my brain for ideas of where'd they keep her, he returns.

There's a grim set to his mouth. "Not good, mate. Not good."

"What happened?"

He unslings his backpack from his shoulders. "They were out, so I took it upon myself to have a little look around." Opening the zipper, he hunts around for a beat, and then retrieved a pink bundle of cloth. Unfurls it and—

It's a shirt. A girl's shirt.

We exchange a look bloated with concern and hatred before I push off from my chair and cross the room.

Damn them. Damn them all.

"You think—?"

"It's got to be Eve's."

I spread a tartan blanket over the grass. From the corner of my eyes, I see Cass raise the camera, a sly grin on her lips. The flash blinds me for a couple of beats. "Hey, no fair."

"Are you even gonna show up on this?" she says.

I chuckle. "I'm not Dracula."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed."

"Well, capturing Dracula on film would be fun. Make a bucket of dough."

I deposit the picnic basket on the blanket and sit next to it. "You could buy yourself an apple tree." I hold out my arms for her.

She smirks, snaps another photo of me, and then settles in my lap. "What's in the basket, Yogi?"

"Sandwiches." I peel back the flap and remove a container.

"Did you make them? Or Sarah?"

I hang my head. "I helped."

She giggles and selects a half. "Ooh, chocolate spread."

I hand her a takeout cup.

She sniffs at the small opening. "Coffee!"

"You're easily pleased."

"You thought I was the high-maintenance type?" She barks a laugh. "You should meet Eve." She stills. "Shit. For a second, I forgot."

I massage her back. "It's okay, honeybee."

She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. "I want her back."

Is now the time to tell her what evidence Kat found? There's got to be a better time than this moment.

"Have you heard anything from your ex-pack?" she says, as if guessing what plagues my mind.

I can't lie to her, not to her face. "Yes. Kat, uh..." I scratch my chin as I try to work out a way to tell her.

"Kat what?"

"He went snooping while they weren't home and found what might be her shirt."

She's silent for a long time, nibbling at her sandwich like an adorable rabbit. Then her gaze swings towards me. "Are you sure it was hers? What color was it? Style?"

"A pink V-neck."

"Shit." Three lines appear between her eyebrows, and her mouth quivers into a heartbreaking scowl. "I hope she's all right. If they hurt her..."

"I know."

Her thoughts take a path mine can't connect to. "What if I'm next?"

"I'll keep you safe, Cass, whatever it takes."

"But who's keeping Eve safe? Who's watching over her?"

Fair point. Maybe angels are. Maybe no one.

School is different without my best friend—boring and long. And then there are the pointed looks and snide remarks as I sit next to her vacant chair in English.

I catch one of the whispered conversations from the pair behind me.

"I heard she was the one to see her last."

"I bet her boyfriend did it. He's all mysterious and ax-murdery."

Great. Can't Mrs. Browne begin the class already?

To drain them out, I slip my earbuds into my ears and crank Paramore up to the extreme.

Marcus clomps into the room, books tucked under one arm and his backpack hanging off the other. His gaze sweeps over his classmates, settling on me. With a grim smile in place, he makes his way over to me and then, with a beat of hesitation, takes Eve's place at the desk next to me. I rip out my earbuds, both grateful for a friendly face and annoyed that it's Marcus.

"Thought you might want some company."

"Yeah. Thanks."

The conversation behind me had continued uninterrupted through the Paramore song.

"My uncle saw a massive wolf with those same green eyes once."

My spine stiffens. I fight the urge to turn around and kick them both in the shins.

Marcus, suddenly virulent with anger, spins around in his seat. "Shut your mouths! You have no _idea_ what you're talking about!"

Peering over my shoulder at them, I see the red-haired boy raise his hands in mock fearfulness. "What, are you her big defender now or somethin'?"

Both of the boys crack up, and Marcus' hands curl into fists.

Seething, Marcus says, "You have no idea what you're even talking about."

Sure, I was the last to see Eve, but since when does that make me a target for ridicule? And why are they bringing Seb into it? How do they even know about him?

"You're gettin' yourself worked up over nothin', mate," said the red-haired one while chuckling.

The second boy folds his hands behind his head and rocks back on his chair, as if this is just another day at school. "She's probably dead, lying in a ditch somewhere."

Now I want to punch them. "Turn around, Marcus." I don't want to listen to them anymore, and Mrs. Browne has begun to write on the whiteboard.

After a tremendously drawn-out moment, he turns back around in his seat to face the front. Fists still clenched tight underneath the desk.

"What was that about?" I say to him. "Why'd you let them get to you?"

His head pivots a fraction towards me. "Because this isn't just about Eve."

Seb

It's Liam's turn to lock up tonight, so at three I say goodbye to him and Chad, heading for the door.

Chad is spinning around in his office chair—he must be getting dizzy—but catches me before I can slip out of the door. "Hey, hey, hey—hold up a sec, dude!" Planting his feet, he stops the chair and gets up. He wobbles about for a bit before coming to stand in front of me.

"What's up? I gotta go pick up Cass."

"I know, I know. Just wanted to tell ya that your sister called a couple minutes ago. Says you're not answering her calls." Squinting at me, he says, "Really, dude? That's like—I'd always answer my sister's calls because she'd beat me up if I didn't."

"Chad. You don't have a sister."

He pokes my chest with a finger. "You're right on the mark there; if I did have one, I know she'd beat me up. Boxer or something else fierce."

"Okay. Thanks for this _delightful_ conversation." I twist the doorknob. "Now, I've gotta go." Yanking it open, I catch a whiff of sour milk and rot, and I'm instantly on high-alert.

Ash is outside.

Why is he here?

There's a string of answers nudging their way into my brain, but before I can decide on one, I step out into a blissfully sunny day and shut the door behind me. Best to get this over with.

"Hello, Sebby." He steps into view, malicious smile in place.

Feigning boredom and keeping my tone flat, I say, "What do you want?"

"Thought we could have a chat."

"About?"

The smirk ratchets up a handful of notches. "You. The girl."

"What about her?"

"She's a pretty one. Smells good too—mouthwatering."

A rapid heat claws its way through my body, waking up the wolf inside. "You stay away from her," I growl, shoving him into the opposing wall. "She's not yours to play with, you hear me?"

His maniacal laugh ricochets off the brick, a sharp reminder that Ash is as merciless as they come. "She's already part of the game, Sebby. Just wait'n see."

"No—" The right hook to my temple surprises me, knocking me off my feet. My back slams into the wall behind me with a jolting thud, and I slide down onto my ass.

Leaning over me, he twists a fistful of my shirt into his hand, dragging me back up to my feet. His face is a mere inch from mine, red eyes sparking with a challenge. "She's mine."

Cassie

When the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day, I shove my sketchpad into my bag and head out into the corridor. Turning left down the hallway to my locker, I crash into Miley.

She clutches my arm to steady us both. "Whoa! Sorry!"

"They should think about installing traffic lights and a stop sign," I say, readjusting my bag on my shoulder.

"Yeah, totally. There must be tens of crashes per day, _at least_." Her smile is genuine, though her eyes hold a bucket load of apprehension.

"Something up, Miles?"

"Ah..." She winces visibly. "I was just coming to find you."

"Why? What's wrong?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, she takes a moment to answer. "Your locker—someone kind of vandalized it."

" _What_?" I shove past her, round the corner, and stop when I notice the small gathering of students in the corridor. All in a semi-circle around my locker.

Miley rushes up behind me. "Cass, wait! You shouldn't see—"

But I had already seen. Two of the smirking students, the boys from English, are arrogant enough to step out of the way.

The words _Freak Lover_ and _Killer_ are smudged across my black locker door in red paint. The students turn and snigger at me, enjoying the shock splashed onto my face. Hatred travels through me, so thick it scrubs out all rationality.

I march up to the red-haired boy and shove his shoulder. "You did this. I know you did."

He pushes me and I topple over, falling to the gray-speckled linoleum as Mr. Jameson rounds the corner.

"Hey!"

My peers scatter like mice in a hailstorm, but not before my art teacher recalls the red-haired boy with a hooked finger. "Mr. Stewart. Causing trouble again, I see."

"Hey, are you okay?" Lending me a hand, Miley helps me up.

"Yeah." I straighten my shirt. "Just a bruised hip and ego."

"Don't worry; we'll get the paint off."

It's not the paint I'm worried about, instead it's— _how do they know what Seb is?_ Do they just have their suspicions, from the Navajo tales? Or is there solid evidence they have that prove the skinwalkers exist?

" _You_ will get the paint off," Mr. Jameson says to the student. "Right now."

"But I have—!"

"Either that or a week of detention."

"Fine, okay."

The teacher looks over at me. "You okay, Cassie?"

Nodding weakly, I rub the hip I'd fallen on. "Yeah. I think so." I feel the boy's eyes on me, and I return his stare with a hardened one.

"Okay, let's get this cleaned up." Mr. Jameson heaves a sigh. "Come on."

I wait for the two of them to disappear around the corner before opening my locker and grabbing my books. In the mirror on the inside of the door, I catch Miley smiling kindly at me.

"It'll be okay, Cass. This will all blow over soon, once they find someone else to bully."

A vaguely reassuring thought.

"I'll walk you out?"

I shove the last notebook into my bag. "Thanks."

***

Seb's late.

The last few students are trickling out of the school, some throwing me a curious glance, others ignoring me. Some offer me spiteful stares, which I defiantly return twofold. They don't scare me, a bunch of kids following the bread crumbs of rumors. They can vandalize my locker, push me around, call me names, and none of it really means anything. There's much more going on in the world for me to care about.

Sliding my cell phone from my pocket, I peek at the time—3:20. _Where is Seb?_ He's usually right on time. I settle down on the grass, underneath a tree, to wait.

Five more minutes pass before Seb's SUV pulls up to the curb in front of me.

"Sorry I'm late, honeybee," he says as I hop in.

As he looks at his side mirror, waiting for a car to pass us so he can pull out, I notice a shadow of a bruise on his temple. Gesturing towards it, I say, "What happened to you?"

"Ash happened. He was waiting for me outside of the record store." He glances over at me. "I hope you had a better day."

Oh, where to start?

I fill him in on the day's events as he drives me home. When I'm done, and when he swings into my driveway, he shakes his head.

"Some people can be such jerks." He shuts the engine off. "But you're okay? You want me to have a word with anyone?"

Oh, _sure_ , having my 'freak' of a boyfriend talk to the ones spreading that crap about him? That will go over well. "No. I don't think they even know what they're talking about. But, thanks." Unclipping my seatbelt, I grab my bag and lean in to kiss him.

"Want me to come in?"

I yank on the handle and prop open the passenger door with my foot. "Dad will be home soon. Sneak back in after dinner?"

"Sure thing."

He waits for me to get inside and click the deadbolt into place before taking off.

Food. I needed a massive amount of sugar after the day I'd had. I can swing by Rocky Roads—no. Won't be the same without Eve's comforting, yet snide, remarks. Settling on a bag of jelly babies and a container of Sarah's gingersnap cookies, I spread my homework out on the coffee table. Switching on the TV, I scour the channels for something half decent. I want to keep my mind occupied until I have to cook dinner.

Dad clomps through the door at a little after five and goes straight to the fridge for a beer. "Hey, kiddo. Your day all right?"

I don't know if I want to tell him how my day _really_ was—I'm getting sick of repeating it—so I evade his question. "Mm. How was yours?"

"Fine." Taking a swig of beer, he looks at what I have cooking on the stove. I get a feeling I'm about to get caught out when he follows up with, "Your art teacher called me about half an hour ago."

_Damn him_.

"He said two boys vandalized your locker with 'Freak Lover' and 'Killer'." He watches me carefully as I turn over the chicken pieces. "Have any idea what that means?" A forced chuckle. "Or is that some kind of slang the kids are using now?"

_Careful what you say, Cass_. There's a chance he already knows about Seb and me, if he has a notebook with the pack's names in it, but I won't be the one handing over the evidence of our relationship. "No idea. They know I was the last person to see Eve, so they're probably spinning their lies off that. You know how whispers can spread and be altered."

I should've known at the time, that denial was what drives him to seek out the truth.

"Should I talk to your headmaster?" he says.

"I'm sure it will all get sorted out."

***

6:45 am. I brush back my hair and secure it in an elastic. 6:50. I drizzle milk over my high-fat, high-carb, teeth-rotting cereal and pour a bowl of the low-fat, cardboard stuff for Dad. 6:51. Dad makes his way downstairs, into the kitchen, and grumbles what passes as " _Morning_." He plops down on his usual chair and manages to slosh milk into the muesli I'd arranged. I slide a mug of coffee across the table.

"Thanks Cass," he mumbles, picking up the paper.

This is what our mornings are like, when he's not gone early to save people's lives. I don't mind the lack of chitchat. Actually, I revel in it. Gives me a chance to think things through.

But at 7:01, someone knocks on the door.

Dad, now caffeinated, jumps up and says, "I'll get it!"

I shake my head at him in mock shame as he heads down the hall.

Less than a minute later, Miley pops her head around the corner, followed by Xavier.

I stare at them, wary. "Guys?" It's rare to get a visit this early from them.

"Morning, Cass." Miles covers a yawn with a hand. "Pardon the intrusion at this ungodly hour."

"What's up?" I pour them both mugs of coffee.

Dad clears his bowl. "I trust no one else has gone missing?"

Miley suppresses a sob.

" _Dad_." My scathing glare could melt Antarctica.

"No, sir," Xay says, laying a soothing hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

Miley gulps the steaming, brown liquid. "We needed to speak with your daughter before school."

Dad leaves us to it.

I gesture for them to take a seat. "What's so important?"

"Obviously, as you know, word has gotten around," she takes another sip, "that you were the last one to see Evie."

Xay pipes up, clearly unimpressed with the situation at hand. "I've also heard Michael—the guy Miley says pushed you yesterday—saying he's seen you with one of _them_ —a, ah..."

"Skinwalker," Miles says. "But, I mean, that's just a legend, right? A bedtime story to scare the kiddies?"

_I wish_.

"Yeah, I certainly don't believe in that crap. So what if your boyfriend has a weird eye color and is built like a wrestler?"

"Um, thanks?"

"Mike's just being a bully. He takes the tiniest of whispers and spins them until they're so far from the truth."

They're not that far from the truth.

"He took the facts about Eve's disappearance, and stories he was undoubtedly told as a kid, and put, as one says, two and two together." Xavier scowls.

"Well, they're adding wrong!" I say, fury a ticking time bomb inside of me. "Guys, you _know_ me. I would never, _ever_ hurt her. Or you," I flick a hand at Miley, "or anyone."

"Yes, but you have been sort of mysterious of late—elusive—with the whole boyfriend thing."

What have I done to deserve this scrutiny? I've always been _the doctor's daughter_ or _Sheriff Spencer's niece—_ free of any sort of inquiry, unrestricted. And now I have a magnifying glass hovering over me for everyone to inspect my flaws.

"We don't doubt you, Cassie," Miley says. "But the whispers of you being involved with them are stacking up at an alarming rate. Whatever 'they' are..." Her mouth puckers as she considers that. "I'm not even sure they exist."

Xavier tugs on her arm before saying, "We'd better get going, Miles."

"Oh, yes. We'll leave you to finish getting ready for school."

"Thanks for the heads-up," I say as I walk them out.

She hugs me. "Any time."

I return Xay's wave and close the door. Heaving a sigh, I return to the kitchen for another caffeine jolt. I'm gonna need it today. Gone is my freedom to act without fear.

***

I'm wiping down the service counter as Liam approaches. "Hey," I say as he stops in front of me.

"Hey."

With no further _tête-à-tête_ , I say, "What can I do for you, Lee?"

"Seb says to tell you that he's taken the afternoon shift, so he won't be able to drop by."

My smile droops. "I guess I'll see him tonight..." I neaten the stack of menus. "Anything else?"

"I'll get a lime soy milkshake and a tofu burger to go."

Since when does Liam eat soy?

"For my sister. She's visiting."

"Oh? How is Jess?" I jot down his order and then pass it to Harry, the cook.

"Her and her fiancé Neal are expecting their first baby."

"Oh? Congrats, you're gonna be an uncle!" I gently punch his arm.

"Thanks. I'll wait over here." He moves to the booth by the door.

He never was the overly social type. I can't blame him. Sometimes even _I_ feel like locking myself away for minutes, hours, days. Especially after today—more stares, mocking, and whispers. The whole school had heard about my boyfriend by midmorning.

With most of the customers vanishing to get home to their families, save for Liam, and Miley with the usual gang, I have little to do. I grab my camera from under the counter and pad over to Miles.

She grins up at me, and I quickly snatch a photo.

"Hey," she says, "that wasn't even my best smile! I wasn't camera ready!"

Xavier reaches for her hand. "That's what everyone says."

The gang—today consisting of Miles, Xay, Marcus, and Tori—lean together for a group shot.

"Where's Whitney?" I say as I take the photo. "How's he holding up with Eve's absence?"

Tori rolls her eyes. "Oh, _Whitney_."

_Brat_. I want to slap her.

Marcus says, "He's a bit torn up over, _y'know_."

So, what, we're not even saying her name anymore? Not mentioning our collective desperate hope they find her? Cowards.

"Order up for Liam," Eloise says.

I jog over, wanting to catch him before he leaves. "Liam?"

He spins towards me. "Yeah?"

"Thank your mom for me? For having me over and for looking out for Seb. He deserves a happy family life."

He shakes his head. "He sure does, the poor bastard."

His comment makes me wonder—how much about Seb's life does he know? I open my mouth to ask. But someone bumps into me from behind, and I remember it's too much of a public place.

"See you later," he says, heading for the door.

"Sure, bye." I turn to see who elbowed me. No one's there.

From the kitchen, Harry says, "Phone call for Cassie."

I take the cordless from him and sneak into the supply room. "Hello?"

"Cass," Dad says. "Do you mind cooking for one more tonight?"

"Bringing home a date?" I clamp a hand over my mouth to silence a laugh.

He chuckles once. "Ha. No. But I am bringing home a woman."

Color me confused. "Okay..."

"We'll try not to be late. Hopefully by six."

"Sure. See you then." I hang up, and then return the handset to Harry. So much for seeing Seb tonight.

***

Feeling pressure to impress Dad's non-date, I prepare sage-brined pork chops with a brown-sugar glaze. As I'm pouring the brine solution over the loins, the landline rings.

It'd better not be Dad adding another dinner guest. I only made enough for three. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and hold the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

Seb's cheery voice floats through. "Cass."

I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "Hey, I got your message."

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't drop by. Kevin didn't turn up, and I got stuck with the afternoon shift."

I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder. "No problem."

"Is your Dad home?"

"Not right this very moment." I cover the dish with plastic wrap. "But I'm expecting them in," I glance at the clock, "about an hour and a half."

" _Them_?"

"Oh, he's bringing a guest apparently." Though I'm excited, I roll my eyes. Dad treats me like a freakin' housewife sometimes.

"Can I come over?"

"Sure, but be ready to make a speedy exit."

"Always am." He guffaws.

"How long?"

A knock on the back door makes me jump. I hold a hand to my erratic heart and slowly swivel. Seb flashes me a smile and waves.

Flipping the lock, I slide the glass door open. "Don't do that." I replace the phone in its cradle.

He holds out his arms. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"You know I am." I constrict my arms around his neck and stamp a kiss to his cheek. "But seriously, what're you doing here?"

He shrugs. "I miss my girlfriend."

"Yeah? I suppose I am quite miss-able," I joke.

"Was today any better? The students didn't come atcha with pitchforks or wooden crosses, did they?"

As if that would ward a skinwalker off, let alone a human girl.

"Same, and no. I did find out that Michael—one of the boys behind it all—got a week's detention, regardless of scrubbing the outside of my locker clean."

Tugging me onto his lap, he says, "That's good then. The natives have their suspicions of us. But they don't know shit." He tries to smooth out the creases on my brow, unsuccessfully. "What're you worried about?"

"You, _us_."

"Star-crossed lovers," he says. "We were doomed from the beginning, Cass."

I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. "We'll find a way." There has to be a way for us to stay together, under this current inspection of our lives. I'm not letting him go. I can't.

"Everything will be fine, Cass. You'll see." He rocks me as a few droplets prickle the corners of my eyes. "We'll run if we have to—get away from this town."

"I'll follow you anywhere." I hear a car pull into the driveway, clomping up the steps. They're early. "Go!" I get off his lap and shove him towards the door.

He resists, pausing to brush his lips over mine. I melt into him for a beat, forgetting.

The sound of the lock tumbling jerks me back to the present. "Go, please."

He slips out of the door, and I lock it after him. I watch until he vanishes into the trees before retreating to the kitchen. Scooping up his unopened soda can, I replace it in the fridge.

Be cool, Cass. Everything's fine.

"Hello!" Dad says as he enters, sounding a little too cheery.

"In here," I say.

A female voice I recognize drifts in. "It's been such a long time."

Uh-oh.

Kelley sashays in, tailed by my father. She smiles at me, her eyes—knowing and charred with reproach. "How are you?"

She knows; she must be able to sense Seb's presence.

"Awesome." I busy myself by cleaning up the scraps of meat and veggies. "You?"

"Good." She takes a seat at the table.

Dad rubs his palms together. "What's for dinner?"

"Pork chops. But I'm afraid it's a while off."

"Yeah, we are a bit early, eh?"

Just a tad.

He grabs himself a beer. "Wine, Kel?"

She nods, pushing a foil-covered dish across the table, her eyes trained on me. "Made you a pie."

I perk up. _Kelley's apple pies are the best!_ "Thanks." I uncover one side, and then sniff at it. The aroma of cinnamon and butter meet my nose. "Yum."

"I'm looking forward to a fat slice for dessert." Dad grins and hands her a glass. "I've just gotta check something. Back in a tic." He marches out of the room, towards his office.

I lean against the countertop, waiting for Kelley to chew me out now that he's gone. I'd like to know how she's going to try and sway me this time.

She waits until Dad's clomping around in his office, and then fixes her eyes on me again. "I know you've done exactly what I told you not to do." Her nose wrinkles. "You smell like them." She sips her wine. "Stupid girl. You're as good as dead."

_What exactly do the Yee Naaldlooshii smell like?_ I straighten and fold my arms across my chest, hoping for a calm, calculated look. "Is that a threat?"

She shakes her head, saddened. "It's predetermined. You _hang_ with them—you die. Simple, yes?"

Nothing is ever that simple. I could tell her all about Seb and Kat, about them being _the good guys_ , but restrain myself. The less she knows about our affiliation, the better.

"Stupid girl," she says again, shaking her head. "What have you done, Cassandra?" She's speaking as if to herself.

I don't dare interrupt because I've spotted Kat lurking in the trees. I wave him away, hoping he sees me and Kelley doesn't.

Dad returns with his laptop.

"No working at the dinner table, remember?" I say, mocking the countless times he's dispensed the same line to me.

"No matter, I have to go." She stands, grabbing her handbag.

Dad, shocked, stumbles after her. "Kel? Thought we were gonna have dinner, you know, like old times?"

"I remembered I'm meeting my sister in an hour. Sorry." She flicks a resentful glare towards me. "Another time."

I sense the double meaning to her words.

"I'll walk you out."

Dear God, Goddess—whoever is listening. Please keep my dad ignorant for just a little while longer! His life depends on it.

When he returns, his features are an odd mix of confusion and betrayal. "Did you two have a fight or something?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice at the moment, and pull the chops out of the fridge.

"Then wha—?"

I look up. Has he seen Kat? No. His eyes are focused on a picture of us in a diner on my twelfth birthday.

"Let's go out for dinner," he says, untying my apron. "They'll save for tomorrow." He nods towards the chops.

I've never seen him this impulsive, but I agree and sprint into my bedroom to change.

Seb

I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and secure a towel around my waist. When I enter my bedroom, Kat is sitting on my bed.

"Dude." Instinctively, I tighten the towel.

"Liam let me in," he says.

"Yeah? What's wrong with the living room?"

Kat shrugs.

"What's up?"

"You weren't at Cassie's, so I came here. Thought we could hang."

"Can I put some clothes on first?"

"Go ahead." With another shrug, Kat trudges into the hall. "I'll meet you in the kitchen. Mrs. Adler's baking cookies." His eyes gleam in anticipation as he shuts the door.

When I find him, he's stuffing his mouth with them. Sarah's loading the dishwasher.

My nose samples the air—chocolate and vanilla. "Left some for me?"

"There's another batch in the oven." Sarah beams and pours two glasses of cola.

"Yeah, bro. Take a seat. There are more comin'."

"Did you come for a sugar rush, or did you want to talk?"

"Hm. I came to chat, but this's a better distraction." He shoves another cookie into his mouth.

"Has something happened?" I say.

His eyes slide to Mrs. Adler, meaning _can we trust her?_

"It's okay," I say. "She knows."

Sarah smiles and places the egg-shaped oven timer—set to five minutes—in the center of the table. "I'll be back when that goes off." With that, she strolls out.

I snatch the last two cookies from the plate. "Go on."

"Alyssa told me to pass this on." He digs around in his left pocket for a beat.

"How is she?"

"Oh, she wants to kick you in the head—her words, not mine." He tosses me a folded square of paper. "She's pretty furious at your dad as well."

She should be mad at him. But with me, too? I smooth out the slip on my palm and drink in her words.

Elders are pestering all of us for info on your whereabouts. Dad's scared he'll be persecuted for forcing you to leave. Mom—well, she's baking a lot. The pack hangs around day and night. I figured you would want to know these things. So, how are you, little brother? Kat says you are alive. That's good because I plan on asking what the hell happened that day they took you. I'm sorry Gale and I weren't there to help. Those bastards!

Maybe we can talk soon?

Lyssa xx

I turn the paper over and answer her questions.

"What'd she say?" Kat says.

"Stuff you probably already know."

The timer buzzes and Sarah returns. "Don't mind me." She stoops to check the cookies. "Perfect!"

"Can you get this back to my sister?" I say to Kat, sliding the note across the table.

"Sure thing."

"You haven't told anyone where I'm staying, have you?"

He traces a cross over his heart with a forefinger. "Not a soul."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Barely a whisper but I pick it up, "They probably already know, dude."

Sarah slides the sugary treats onto a plate. "You boys hungry for some more?"

Kat grins and nods. "Yes."

"Help yourselves." She sets the plate in the middle.

I dive in first, before he stakes his claim on them. Then I remember something Lyssa said— _the pack hangs around day and night_. Why? Don't they have humans to torture? Little girls to stalk? "Have you been able to find out about any of their plans?"

"A little," he says around a mouthful of crumbs, "and you're not gonna like it."

Cassie

Dad orders me another cola, and then returns to his beer-battered onion rings. "Anything new with you? I know I haven't been around much of late."

I tiptoe around the topic, as usual. "Oh nothing much, you know, the usual. Work, school." I take a bite of my burger. "Turns out, my classmates are accusing me of 'napping Eve." STOP. I gulp my mouthful to prevent myself from letting Seb's name slip.

His eyebrows arch. "They're what? Where's the proof?"

Approaching dangerous waters. Must turn around immediately. "I don't know. It's just a rumor." One that's gaining speed by the hour.

"Maybe I can arrange to have Scott speak to them..."

"No," I say. "It's okay. I can handle my own problems."

"I know you can." He pats my hand. "I know you can." He's silent for a moment, and then adds, "Should we order dessert or head back for pie?"

"Pie," I say, not missing a beat.

"We got any ice cream?"

"I _think_ there's a tub of chocolate in the back of the freezer." I chew for a moment, and then say, "Looking forward to the barbeque tomorrow?" Where I'll be in the kitchen preparing it and he'll be out hunting with his buddies. What is this, the fifties?

"Yeah, good fun." He nods, and we finish our meals in silence.

Once we're back on the road, I switch on the radio and flip through the stations. A pop song filters through the speakers. Satisfied, I slump back into the seat, hungry for that pie.

The road is quiet, flanked by trees and shrubbery on both sides. To the right, the forest leads into Aeston. To the left, the reservation. A little further up is where I found Seb, bleeding and unconscious.

A flash of black darts across the lane. Dad slams on the brakes. I grip the sides of my seat, the belt straining against my abdomen and chest. He draws a small, silver knife from under him and hops out. Whatever he's up to, I don't like it. I slide out also.

"Get back!" he spits at me. "Get in the car!"

The puma's golden-yellow eyes glisten in recognition and terror. He's about to die. At the hand of my father, both he and I are sure of it. The big, black cat is frozen and I wonder what he's waiting for. Why doesn't he run? Dad lunges at him, eyes void of emotion. The knife angles for its heart.

"No!" I dive between them. "What do you think you're doing?"

"My _job_ , Cass." He shoves me roughly aside.

" _Run_!" I say, regaining my footing. "Get out of here!" I stomp my feet and make as much noise as I can to scare Kat away.

Puma-Kat bolts and melds into the trees. Dad glares at me.

I return his stare, hands on my hips. "Killing pumas now are you, Dad? PETA will be all over your ass."

"You know very well what I'm doing, Cassandra." His features are pinched, worn. "I know you've been in my office, seen the papers," he says. "Kelley mentioned you've been nosing around. I know at least one has been hanging about. I've _smelled_ them in our _house_."

I shake my head, dismissive.

"You don't think I know he sneaks into your room?"

"If you knew all this time—I don't understand why you've never said anything."

Losing his temper, he slams the car door shut. "You weren't supposed to find out!"

"Find out _what_?"

He dodges my question. "And now you're _saving_ these leviathans?" His face is a scrunched mask of betrayal and irritation as he steps closer.

I should be scared, intimidated. The natural response is for me to recoil. But I hold my place. "It's true; I know what they are." My voice is even, controlled. "But who are you?" I feel as if I don't know him anymore. _What is he keeping from me?_

"It doesn't matter." He stares into the spot Kat vanished to for a beat. Then he spins and climbs back into the SUV.

It does matter. He's keeping _something_ from me, and the curiosity hardwired into my brain wants to know what.

I'm going to find out. Even if it ends me.

I slap together two slices of starchy bread, filled with cuts of ham, lettuce, and mayo. "Where is it you're going?" I say to Dad. He's been vague about his hunting trip—which is usual. But this time, I'm worried. _What_ is he hunting? Should I warn Seb and Kat to stay off-road?

"Uh, around the mountains and, um—"

There's a brisk rap on the door, and Dad escapes my grilling. For now. I package the sandwiches and set them on his backpack. Something silver is poking out of the unzipped pocket. My pulse thumps in my ears as I lift the flap. Looks like the knife Dad used yesterday, and the one from my dream where I stabbed Seb.

Could my brain have been trying to tell me something, fill in the blanks?

I hear four male voices head my way, and I lurch away from the table. I'm cleaning up the counter as they enter. First, Uncle Scott, followed by their two mutual friends—Simon and Adam. Dad strolls in after them.

"Nice to see you again, Cass." Uncle Scott pulls me in for a hug. "How're you holdin' up?"

"Fine," I say. _Rotten_. "Any news?"

Sympathetically, he places a hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, no. But we've got everyone working on finding her, I promise."

_Eve won't be found until the pack wants her to be_. It's a thought that guts me completely, and I struggle to remain composed in front of them.

He gives my shoulder a squeeze. "I promise."

I nod and force myself back into sociable-mode.

Simon, Marcus' father, eyes the bread. "There enough sandwiches for us?"

I draw in a steady breath before saying, "Oh, yes. I made extra."

Dad curls an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side. "Isn't she a good one, eh?"

I roll my eyes skywards.

"Let's go before you embarrass the poor girl some more." Simon snatches the top sandwich and vanishes into the hall.

Adam follows, leveling a steady, withering gaze at me before turning away.

Dad's brother claps me on the back. "Be good."

"Always am."

Something in his features tells me he thinks otherwise, and possibly Adam thinks the same.

"You'll be back in time for the barbeque?"

"Sure will."

When they leave, I dial the Adler's. _Please be home. Seb, please be home!_ I let it ring seven times before hanging up. _Is he working today?_ I dial Roadrunner Records on the off chance he is.

Someone picks up after one ring. "Hello?"

"Liam? Oh, thank God. Know where Seb is?"

"He just left."

"How long ago? Can you catch him?"

"Hold on a sec."

There's a scuffle—him putting down the phone?—then silence. Two seconds pass. Five. Fifteen.

Then another voice says, "Cass?"

Every cell in my body floods with relief. "Seb."

"Y'okay?"

"Make sure you don't shift today, _please_. My dad is going hunting, and I'm pretty sure you and I both know he's not hunting deer."

He snorts. "Only took you seventeen years to figure it out. What made you realize it?"

I sigh. Clearly, he knows. Why didn't I figure this out earlier? I fill him in on last night, and then add, "And tell Kat to stay out of my father's line of vision." I don't want him getting hurt because of my father's stupid _hunting_ escapade.

"Sure thing."

I hang up and march down the hall, stopping in front of Dad's office. It's time for me to find out what's really going on.

My fingers twist the knob, and I shove open the door. This time, the desk is clear of papers. But he has to keep them somewhere. I rifle through drawers—office supplies only and a picture of a dinosaur I drew when I was ten. The bookshelves. I scrutinize each title as it meets my eyes—then one catches me by surprise, a notebook marked _Diné_. The Navajo name for their nation.

Did he forget I knew a few words? I slide out the notebook and flip it open to the marked page—three days ago.

A vine of ice loops around my spine as I grasp the meaning of the words scrawled across the page. Two lines catch my attention:

Seb & Cass—Robyn says she's seen them together in town. Does Cass know?

Marcus—get him to do it?

The concluding question puzzles me. What is Dad planning on doing? Locking me up? Killing me? Killing _Seb_? No. I won't let him destroy my future. I haul out my smartphone and snap a picture of the page. _Leverage_ , I tell myself. Though, I haven't the faintest idea how to use it.

Curiosity gnaws at my stomach. I flip to the beginning of the book, scanning the first page. My eyes catch the word _Hunter_ and something about the Yee Naaldlooshi. Then it lists names of the current two generations:

Brett Spencer

Scott, Joel, & Dylan Spencer

Dean Santos

Adam Puckett

Simon & Marcus Wyatt

Looks like the Hunter gene runs in the family—a boy-only club. How Elizabethan of them. And Marcus is one? This means one thing.

They've been keeping tabs on me.

For how long? The date at the top reads _10/3/2008_.

Seb is right. We were doomed from the beginning. He's dating the daughter of a Hunter—and not just any Hunter, it seems. The leader.

Snapping a pic of that also, I turn to the next page, trying to find out what a Hunter actually is. Hunts the skinwalkers, I guess, but what else? I continue my turn-and-snap routine until I look at his desk clock. 11:15. I have to prep lunch for the barbeque. Promising to return another day and find the answer, I slide the journal back into place and slink out of the door.

At 11:20, Aunt Robyn arrives with three bags of groceries and a big hug for me.

"Cass, you look shifty. Been up to no good?"

I'm done for. I figure I'll be assassinated like Martin Luther King Jr., or stabbed twenty-three times in the back like Caesar. "Guilty."

"So what'd you do?" she says as we unpack the food haul. "Sneak the last of the ice cream? Eat the last slice of pizza?"

I try to arrange a smile on my features. "Yep."

"Your secret's safe with me." She beams, passing me a bag of potatoes.

As we chop onions, carrots, and various other vegetables, my mind is drifting to the photos and the notebook. I want to study them, but I probably can't risk doing so until tonight—after our family and friends have left.

At 12:30, Dad returns. His clothes are stained with blood in sections, and I pray that it's not Seb or Kat's.

"No meat?" I say, keeping up with the animal-hunting charade.

"Nah, not a good hunting day." He shares a sly smirk with Robyn.

_Liar_. Does he think I'm a fool? Well, I'll show him.

"I'm just gonna hop into the shower, then I'll help out, okay?" he says.

I turn my back on him, not wanting to be here, to be near him. I want to be talking this out with Seb.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Robyn says to him. "We've got it under control, right, Cass?"

"Sure." I want this stupid day to be over, to be tucked into Seb's arms, and to not have to worry about a damn thing.

"Oh, Brett?" Robyn says.

"Yeah?"

"Can you pop out for some ice after your shower, or should I ring one of the boys?"

"Ask Scott. He said he'd be here early."

I hear the familiar _stomp stomp_ as Dad trudges down the hall, into the bathroom.

***

Tonight, while Dad is sleeping and all is quiet, I connect my cell phone to my laptop and download the photos. Had I suspected something was wonky with Dad? Yes. The past couple of months, he's been hunting more and more, and staying out for longer periods. I'm not his keeper, but deep down, I knew.

I just didn't know _what_.

I'm the girl who knows nothing and everything. The daughter of a Hunter, girlfriend to a skinwalker. My world has changed so much in so little time. Will I recover Old Cassie, the one who was happy to read or do homework like it was a pastime? Or should I bury her deep in the recesses of my soul, along with memories of my mother and Eve?

I don't have any answers yet.

Seb reaches for my hand as we settle into the seats opposite Kat. The pizzeria is a bustling place of patrons tonight.

"Man, that's some sick shit," Kat says.

I'd just divulged my findings.

"We knew the Hunters were a genetic thing," Seb says. "Like us."

"Yeah, but they've been following us more and more lately—probably watching right now." He ducks his head and glances around. "Recognize anyone?"

"There are oodles of his friends and colleagues I haven't met," I say. "For all we know, the whole town has been swept into this _Big Brother_ -type setup. Who can we trust?"

Seb is quiet for a moment, pensive. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. "Just wish everyone would leave us alone."

Kat bumps his shoulder against Seb's. "Feeling's mutual."

A blur of red from someone's dress reminds me of a pair of irises. "Hey, who's the pack member with the red eyes?"

Seb's head snaps around, flashing a glare. "Why?"

"That's Ash," Kat says, chilled and picking at his pizza.

I value his straight-up honesty. "You're not gonna like this." I rip off a chunk with my fingers. "But a couple of days after I was in the hospital, Dad and I came home to this." I pull the envelope from my bag and slide it across the table. "Add this to that phone call at the café and—"

"It spells trouble," Kat says.

Seb swallows hard, taking out the slip of paper. Kat leans over his shoulder, eager, as Seb unfolds it. It only takes a second for him to react.

His fingers begin twitching, crumpling the paper. His pupils dilate. His skin prickles and his whole frame seems to vibrate, like he's overdosing on caffeine. Seb jumps up, jostling the table. Sodas threaten to spill. He gallops over to the door, throws it open, and vanishes into the night.

I throw a twenty on the table and run after him.

"Wait, Cass." Kat grabs my arm. "I'll get him." He scurries after him.

I wait a beat, heart kicking in my chest, and then follow. My eyes scan the road and pavement. They're not here. _How fast are they?_ A crash echoes from the alley, five feet to my left. I turn towards it. A scuffle of feet, a rip. A growl. I edge towards the opening. A mass of gray fur charges towards me. I flatten myself against the bricks.

Kat sprints past at a human speed. "Seb, wait up!" Then he quickly turns to a brown blur.

I blink—and they're gone. _Great_. I exhale and extract myself from the wall. My boyfriend's a wolf, lost in the night.

Seb

"Seb, wait up!" Kat charges after me, but I don't wait.

I'm too angry to stop. Driven by a murderous rage, I cross the street, my claws digging in. _Faster_. A car honks as we almost collide, and I delve into the quieter part of town. Houses are whipping by, a blur of whites, grays, and blues.

_They were threatening her before I even knew, before I had met her at the café_. All this time, they were keeping an eye on her, and on me. Seething, I propel myself along faster.

Kat has caught up to me and is running flat-out, arms pumping fiercely, as he tries to keep up. "Dude, stop." He slams his shoulder into mine, hard, and I lose my balance. Go sprawling across the pavement.

I'm up in a flash and barreling down the street. My paws automatically know where to turn, and take me to the place I've recently started calling home. I'm halfway up the driveway when Kat digs his shoulder into mine again, and I crash into the Adler's trashcans. It makes an awful racket—garbage spewing over the pavers, lids rattling in every direction, and then me thumping into the fence. It groans in protest but remains upright.

_Next time I see Ash, he's dead_.

The rear verandah light winks on, casting a yellow halo over part of the darkened yard. Kat's weight against my side forces me to stay down and hidden in the dark.

_I shouldn't have come here_.

The curtains on the kitchen window part, and then we see Mrs. Adler's face, her eyes sweeping the yard. Kat heaves himself off me and steps into the light, waving her out.

My ears twitch as I hear the neighbor's door open at the same time as the Adler's. I can't stop the roaring thunder of hatred coursing through my veins, and a snort escapes my nostrils. Kat clamps a hand over my muzzle and crouches near me.

A gruff voice and heavy footsteps contrasts Sarah's light tone and steps.

"Everything all right there?" the neighbor says, nearing the fence I'm pressed against.

Making her way over to both the neighbor and me, Sarah says, "Uh, yes, Frank. Just a cat."

"Bloody big cat."

She glances about half a foot from my head, her rough approximation of my position not so far off. "Strays."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. Jack fed them once and now they keep coming back."

I see her smirk at me, and I know that remark was meant for me. I'm the stray that keeps coming back.

"All right. I'm missing my show," the neighbor says, "so I'd better get back."

"Goodnight, Frank."

"Night."

The three of us wait for his front door to clunk shut, and then release a collective breath neither of us realized we'd held.

"Seb," she whispers. "Are you hurt?"

Kat answers for me. "He's fine, just got a temper on him."

"All right." Sarah's hand skims over my hind legs, up my spine, until she finds my head. There's a strange urgency in her tone when she speaks again. "You've got to shift. _Now_."

But before I can, Miley steps out onto the verandah. "Everything okay, Mrs. Adler?"

A dash of panic rides along with the anger. I try to shake it off, to force a shift; the wolf isn't letting go of me, of Seb. Too much anger.

Sarah's hand slips from my head as she pivots in the girl's direction. "Miley, turn the light off!"

Moments later, the yard is draped in darkness again.

I hear Kat whisper, "Why is she here?"

"She dropped by for help with an assignment. Liam must have told her I used to teach history."

"Damn."

Poor timing, on my part, to crash into her yard. I knew I shouldn't have come here.

Grass crunching under shoes and a mini flashlight beam sweeping the yard alerts us that Miley is on her way over. And as curious as Cass, it seems. "Sarah? Did you find out what the noise was?"

Sarah lurches towards the flashlight in my defense—"Turn that off!"—but not before the beam swoops across my head.

Cassie

I wake with a jolt, as if sensing his absence. "Seb." Where is he? Did Kat catch up with him? I turn over. The clock's strawberry-red digits read 6:29 am. Plenty of time for me to get ready for school and drop by the Adler's. I have to know that he is safe before I make a fool of myself worrying. Well, worrying _more_.

Dad's home again this morning. I make use of the extra time by cooking up a stack of pancakes. They're sitting in the middle of the table when he drags himself in.

He kisses my temple. "What's the occasion?"

I shrug, filling two glasses with orange juice. "Had some extra time."

"Ah." He slides three pancakes onto his plate and drizzles maple syrup over them.

He doesn't need to know why or what I got up to last night, but based on his notes I found, he probably already knows and just isn't saying anything yet.

And it's not like he can tell me who to date.

I take my time, filling a travel thermos with coffee and slipping it into my bag before sitting opposite him.

When I do, he says, "I won't be home tonight."

Shocking. "Oh?"

He nods, adding nothing more.

"Okay. I guess it's lasagna for one, then." I squirt syrup onto my breakfast, and then cut a wedge.

"Sorry." He dithers for a moment. "Got called in at the last minute."

Sure, sure.

"You'll be all right?"

I roll my eyes.

"Okay, okay. Just be careful who you invite in."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Like Edward Cullen? Yeah, I'm sure he'll be a real riot."

"You know what I mean."

I nod, stern. But the group of _be careful who you invite in_ folk includes my boyfriend and his best bud. As for the rest of them, I'll happily keep them out.

"Call Mr. Berty if you need help."

I try to imagine our fifty-five-year-old, five-foot-ten, snaggle-toothed, rotund neighbor coming to my aid. Not. Gonna. Happen.

A little after seven, I drive to the Alder's.

Liam opens the door, dressed in cut-off jeans and a polo shirt. "Yeah?"

I see we're skipping pleasantries today. "Is Seb here?" Is he in one piece?

He shakes his head. "Didn't come home last night, apparently. Mom's worked herself into a state." He opens the door wider. "Wanna come in?"

"No," I say, his words ringing in my ears. _Didn't come home_.

He looks at me. "You okay? He probably just crashed at a mate's place."

Kat. He's with Kat?

"Hey, by the way," he says, "you should probably talk to Miley."

What would she know of his whereabouts? "About...?"

"She looked as if she was completely freaking out when I got home last night."

When he doesn't add anything else, I prompt him for more.

Shrugging, he says, "I haven't a clue what happened."

"Okay, thanks. I'll go and find her. See you at school." I trudge back to my Elantra and lock myself in. Is Seb safe? Alive? I wouldn't even know how to find out.

***

School passes at snail-speed. First math—eek!—then English. In art, we receive a project and I get paired with Tori. I slide back my chair, dragging my feet over to her table.

" _Yeah?" she says, not looking at me._

" _Looks like we're working together."_

" _I heard him," she snaps. "Doesn't mean I give a crap what he says. Do what you want."_

I begin to turn but pull out the chair next to her instead.

Her glare is from the depths of Hades itself.

" _Can't I sit?" I open my sketchpad. "It's a free country."_

" _Whatever."_

Joy.

Mr. Jameson floats over to us, hands folded behind his back. "Have you ladies chosen a topic and medium?"

" _Charcoal. My cat," I say._

At the same time Tori says, "Clay. Vase."

Her head whips around. Her face is slathered with disgust and acerbity. "We are not drawing your effing cat."

" _Ladies." Mr. Jameson leans closer. "Since you have such divergent talents and tastes, I'll let you pick your own." He pauses, straightens. "But integrate them somehow."_

_Tori mumbles under her breath. I catch_ ingrate _and_ sonofabitch _._

" _There's no use fighting him," I say as I pick a piece of charcoal._

" _Shut up."_

Charmer. What does Marcus see in her? Because she has a rich daddy and a fancy Porsche? That can't be it, surely.

I focus on sketching Lizzy, blocking out my acerbic friend. When the bell rings, I rush off to the cafeteria. Even though Tori will most likely follow, I figure her bitterness will be distilled between the usual group.

But when I get there, the room's empty. Just lonely chairs and tables. I try to make sense of it. It's lunchtime—I double check my watch, yes—but where're the kids? The cooks?

_My first thought is_ bomb scare! _But it's a different alarm for that. Same with all emergencies at Aeston High._

Did they get abducted by aliens? I pivot and bump into a tall man. Mr. Jameson.

His arms steady me. "Lunch has been cancelled."

" _What? Why?"_

" _Everyone has been sent home."_

"Why _?"_

" _Because of you, Cassie. You're a monster." Mr. Jameson's features shift into Ash._

***

Screaming, I wake with a start. I've fallen asleep in English.

Marcus is prodding me. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Classmates stare, smirking.

Another thing to add to 'Freak Lover' and 'Killer'. I straighten. "I'm awake." Damn, I'm still in second period.

"While you were out, Mrs. Browne gave us five essays on Austen. Due Monday." He tries to hide a smirk.

I snap to attention immediately. "What?"

"Kidding, but you should see your face!" He guffaws.

Whitney joins him. I glare at both of them, turning my attention to the whiteboard. There are blue scribbles of what I make out to be notes on a film.

"We watched a very old version of _Hamlet_ ," Marcus says. "You would've hated it."

I'm glad I slept through it, then. "Either of you take notes?" No sense in letting my perfect grades slip now.

Whitney smiles and passes me his notebook.

"Thanks."

The bell peals, and I fear art will live up to my nightmare. _Work with Tori?_

"Just give it back at lunch." Whitney swings the strap of his bag over his head.

"Will do." I pack my unopened notebook and slowly pick my way to art.

But it's worse than I'd dreamed. I'm late and all the seats are taken.

Except for the one next to Tori.

***

The first chance I get to talk to Miles is in history, and Liam is right—she does look freaked.

"Hey." I dump my bag on my usual desk next to hers.

No response.

"Hey, Miley." I jab her shoulder with a finger.

She jumps so far out of her seat that the edge of the desk tips up a bit. "Oh, h—hey Cass. Sorry, didn't see you there."

I take my seat. "You okay?"

Peering at me sideways, she mutters, "Have you ever witnessed something _completely_ illogical and _out there_ , and haven't a clue what to say or do?"

I'm not sure what she's going on about, but I nod along anyway.

"Well—last night, I," she leans closer to me, her mouth at my ear, "I saw Seb change. _Right in front of me_."

A cord of panic loops around my stomach and throat. I swallow thickly. Why was Seb so careless to shift in front of a human?

"Please tell me I'm not crazy," she says, a wild glimmer in her eyes. "I know what I saw, but it's impossible..." She leans closer again. "Those stories are actually real?"

I'm lost for words. They've escaped on a life preserver and floated away without my permission. Buying myself more time to gather my thoughts, I check that no one is seated behind us yet. Nope.

"Cass?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me I'm not crazy."

"You're not crazy."

Her words come out in a rush, rising in volume at the end. "Oh my God, your boyfriend really is skinwalker."

"Shh!"

"Sorry." She straightens her posture, looks at me again. The wildness in her eyes has dulled to pain. "Did he take Eve?"

"No!"

It's her turn to shush me. "Okay. But if he didn't, then who did? Do you know where she is?"

I answer her questions until the teacher arrives, and then more at lunch in the cafeteria. We grab a table in the corner for ourselves, with a perimeter of empty tables around us. The freshmen are off on a field trip—to an art museum, I think. Not the best weather for it, but hey, it's a museum. Is there any type of weather that makes that trip better?

Miley chugs half of her water, and then swipes the back of her hand over her mouth. "So this Ash guy, he's really bad? He took her?"

"Yep and yep." I take a bite of my salad sandwich, chewing. "Seb's okay, though? I haven't heard from him."

"Oh. Yes, I think he's fine. I wasn't really in the right mental space to take notice. Sorry."

I shrug it off. He wouldn't want me to worry. But one thing was bugging me. "Why did Liam say Seb didn't go home last night?"

"A cover—that's what Sarah told everyone, even her husband. Less people to maintain lies, I guess."

As a sophomore girl passes our table, she slings two words over her shoulder. "Freak lover."

I'm _so_ ready for this day to end.

The remainder of lunchtime goes quickly, and before I know it, another school day is over.

I trudge out into the rain, into the sea of umbrellas, across the lot to my car. A gent leans on the hood, towering over the students, biceps built for destruction and protection. His lips quirk upwards when he sees me. His hair is sticking out in clumps from under a gray beanie. My heart skips a beat. I drop my bag and run to him, his arms already extended for me.

"Where have you _been_?" I hear myself say.

Seb tightens his arms around my waist, brushing his lips across my forehead. "Sorry for running off last night."

"Oh, you know, you only gave Kat and me a heart attack."

He smiles. "Kat can't have a heart attack. It's a human disease."

"Oh, right." I swipe at the drops of rain on my face. "I'm the only one that's going to die of acute myocardial infarction."

"Got time for a milkshake?"

"Absolutely." I nod. "Then you're gonna tell me what happened."

"I will." He pushes off from the car and hooks a finger into the strap of my backpack. "Bit damp," he teases.

I laugh and throw it into the backseat.

He catches me before I slide in, touching his lips to mine. "I missed you."

"You have no idea."

Instead of heading to Joe's, Seb points me in the direction of a milkshake bar.

" _Thirty-seven flavors_ ," he says, grinning from ear to ear.

"Wow. How will we choose?" I find an empty parking space and cut the engine.

He lingers for a moment, staring out of the window.

"Something up?" I say.

"I've brought you into this twisted, revolting world of mine. Put you in the path of the most savage _animal_."

"I could've walked away. I chose not to. What does that say about me?" I wait for his answer.

Instead, he hops out into the thundering rain and marches over to the shop. I lock the car and jog to catch up. I don't see the puddle he splashes through until it's too late. My black All Stars skid in the water, losing traction. My hands flail about. There's nothing around to grab hold of. I feel the ground inching closer. My feet slide out from under me. I land hard on my ass, just outside the edge of the puddle.

Seb's head snaps around, and he spots me. "Jesus. What happened?" He rushes over.

"You were walking too fast." Spurs of pain radiate from my ankle, up my calf. I grit my teeth and swallow a groan. Blink back my tears

He scoops me up, and sets me on my feet. I clutch a fistful of his shirt to steady myself as the pain intensifies.

"Your ankle? Is it broken?"

I shake my head. "Pretty sure it's just a sprain." I test it. The pain is bearable. "This's why you're supposed to be around, to keep saving my behind."

He chuckles. "Literally, this time." He dusts gravel from my arms. "Ah. You've got a pretty mean graze back here. I'll take you home."

I hop next to him, Seb taking most of my weight, and curse at puddles as we pass them.

"Is your dad...?"

"He's out."

"Working?"

"He was pretty vague, actually." I tap the button on the key fob to unlock the door. "Man, I really wanted a shake."

He helps me into the passenger seat. "You have a blender?"

"Yeah, doesn't everyone?"

"I'll make you one at home, then. Sound okay?"

"Yum," I say, handing over the keys. "But we'll have to stop for ice cream."

"Doable."

By the time we get home, I'm able to put weight on my ankle, and I hobble inside with Seb close behind.

"You sure you're okay?" He sets the tub of espresso ice cream on the counter.

"Stop fussing." I wave him away and sit at the table.

"Where's the magic milkshake machine?"

"Blender's in the corner cupboard." I rifle through my bag, checking my books for water damage. The corners are a bit mushy. I take them out and fan them open, hoping they'll air dry if I leave them out overnight.

"How many scoops?"

"As many as you think I can handle."

"Hm." He thinks for a beat, and then begins scooping.

A shiver tumbles down my spine, the cool air making my wet clothes freezing. I push myself up. "I'm just gonna go change into some warmer clothes before I catch my death. As Mom would say."

He nods. "Need help? Ah." He pauses. "Getting upstairs, I mean."

I giggle. "Nah, I'll be fine. I've climbed those stairs with worse injuries."

As I hobble out of the room, I hear the radio click on and a rock song fills the room. I listen to him sing along as I shuck off my clothes and drape them over a chair. He's good; his voice smooth and rough in all the right places. What did Chad say? _Can't sing for his supper?_ He's wrong.

Should I jump in the shower? The warm water is tempting, the thought of it cascading over my chilled skin, banishing the cold from my body. Before I've logically made a decision, I'm grabbing a fresh towel from the closet and closing the bathroom door behind me, sprained ankle be damned. I get the water started and strip off my undergarments. Steam fills the tiny room, swathing me in warmth, and I step into the shower.

Heaven.

Standing under the stream for a moment, I let the water sweep away all the cold. I flinch as the water runs over my grazes. Forgot about them. Tilting my head back, I feel the droplets rain down on my face. I shampoo and condition my hair, soaping up my skin, and then watch the bubbles swirl around the drain.

How long have I been in here? Two minutes? Five? I shut the water off and reach for my towel. Someone hands it to me. Their nails scrape against my arm, piercing my skin. I reel back in shock. Through the dissipating steam, I can make out long, dark hair, mocha skin, and—

Crimson eyes.

Do I scream? Where's Seb?

"Hi." Ash sticks a finger into his mouth, tasting my blood, an evil smirk on his lips. "Mmm. Coffee and roses."

I feel my face and stomach scrunch in disgust as I wrap the towel around myself, pulling it tight. "Get out of my house, you sick sonofabitch." Can Seb hear me?

"Hm, no. We're gonna have a little fun first." He reaches for my towel.

Seb's voice floats in from downstairs. "Cass?"

I guess he did.

"I see the boyfriend's home. Later." He bounds into the hall, into my bedroom.

I follow him, cool air nipping at me, and watch him leap from my open window, off the balcony.

Seb charges up the stairs. "Cass? You okay?" He must see something in my face that tells him otherwise. "What—?"

"He was here." I secure the towel under my arm, hair still damp, and cross the room. When I slam the window down, the glass trembles. "Ash was here."

He examines my arm. Four welts glisten in the dimming light. "That's it. I'm not leaving you alone for another moment." He releases my hand.

I flip the lock and tug the curtains closed. "Not even to get dressed?" I smirk. "That could be fun."

He snorts and turns his back towards me. "Baby, you're not ready for that kinda fun with me."

"Cocky, much?"

"Hurry. Your milkshake is waiting."

At the mention of my sugary treat, I hasten. I shove my arms into a long-sleeved shirt—careful to cinch the material above my scored flesh—and tug on a pair of sweatpants. "I'm decent."

He spins back, still smirking

"What?"

"You look like someone dunked you head-first into a puddle."

"Gee, thanks. Didn't have time to blow-dry my hair while your _brother_ ," my fingers curve in the air at the word _brother_ , "was sucking my blood from his nails like some weird-assed vampire."

Seb twitches and turns away from me again.

I feel my cynicism melt away as searing white-hot agony flashes through me. "I'm sorry." I breathe in deep. "Dad says I strike out when I'm terrified."

He looks at me from the corners of his eyes. "You, scared?"

"I know; it's a rarity." I manage a laugh.

He crushes me to his side.

"But Ash is..."

"He's a monster."

"Yes." I reach up to touch my lips to his jaw. "Thank God you aren't."

"C'mon." He tows me behind, down the stairs and into the kitchen. With a flourish of his wrist, he presents me with an oversized shake and a packet of chocolate cookies. " _Madam_."

I slump into my usual chair. "Wow. Talk about getting the royal treatment."

"What can I say? I'll do anything for my girl."

"Aww."

"You want me to wrap that ankle for you?"

"Hm." I twirl my left foot in a slow circle. Only a slight twinge of pain. "No, it seems okay. Sit down." I pat the chair beside me.

He does as told and gently swings my left foot onto his lap. "How was your day?"

"Terrible." I slurp some shake. It has the right ratio of creaminess to sweetness. "Actually, I fell asleep in second period."

"You did?"

I nod. "Dreamed I was paired up with Tori in art."

"She's the one dating that Marcus guy?"

"Yep."

His eyes turn to my arm. "Let me bandage that?"

"Fine. And then you can tell me why you shifted in front of Miley."

Groaning, he hunts around for the first aid kit. "I didn't really have a choice. One second, I was a wolf, and the next, I was me again. I swear, curiosity is going to get you two killed."

I ignore his final comment. "Bathroom, under the sink."

He's back with a bandage in less time it takes me to blink.

"She was jumpy this morning. Did she completely freak last night?"

For a moment, he concentrates on cleaning the rest of the gravel out of my grazes, and then he says, "Shocked, I think, is a better word; she wouldn't shut up about the color of my eyes and how she _knew_ something was different about me."

"Knew?" That word bothered me immensely. "Did she say how?"

"She was suspicious of Eve's disappearance—like everyone is—and was doing some research on us. She came across a website with detailed specifics listed, and then connected the dots."

"That's some dangerous research."

"Sure is, honeybee."

An hour later, we are curled up in front of the TV, watching reruns of _lame cop shows_ —as Seb likes to call them. He shovels popcorn into his mouth and guffaws as a policeman falls over. I'm delighted to see him relaxed. I can't help but laugh with him. If he's relaxed, then there's no reason for me to be tense, right? I curl up beside him, and he drapes an arm over me. I miss this, chilling with a guy, feeling his body heat seep into me. I never admitted it to Eve or Miles, but on horrid, rainy nights like this, I did long for a boy to keep me company.

_Oh, Eve. Where are you?_ I miss her yammering.

As if sensing my thoughts, Seb's arm tightens around me.

I wonder what she'd say if she could see me now. _You really are nuts for wolves, Cassie_. Yeah, maybe I am. But it's a particular wolf that holds my heart.

My wolf.

He's quiet for a minute, his breathing even as his hand brushes up my arm. His eyelids are heavy with sleep.

Has he slept at all the last couple of days? Hunted? I switch off the TV. "Let's go to bed."

"Mm."

I tug on his arm. He stands, and I guide him towards my room. Pushing him down on the edge of the bed, I help him get his shoes off. I untie the laces and slide one and then the other off.

"Cass?" He rolls under the blankets, waving me over.

I slide in next to him. "Yeah?"

He pulls me closer and kisses me.

"What were you going to say?"

He kisses me again. His fingers brush under the hem of my shirt. I constrict my arms around him, heat and sparks arcing between us like we're two conductors. My hands explore his back, feeling the ridges of his spine and ribs. His lips trail over my cheek and down my neck. I press myself to him, craving more of him. My fingers catch the hem of his shirt, pushing it higher. Fingers snap around my wrists.

"Cass. Stop."

"Wh—why?" I try to catch my breath.

"Not until this mess is settled."

I repress a groan. "It might never be over."

He's silent. I untangle myself from him, feeling ashamed.

"Hey." He tucks my head under his chin. "It's not that I don't want to."

"I understand." At least, I'm trying to. I resist the urge to add, _but_ _you started it_. Instead, I listen to his heart thrum in his chest and wait for sleep to find me.

So," Dad says. "Have fun last night?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Mm." He forks potato into his mouth. "Listen, I don't want you seeing Seb."

Beans spill off my spoon as my mouth pops open. I knew he'd bring up the topic of my boyfriend sooner or later. I just wish it were later instead. "He's not like the others. He's good."

"Doesn't matter," he says. "I don't want my daughter around _their kind_."

"It's a little too late," I mumble.

"They're monsters."

"I am well aware of what they are!"

"Don't snap at me, young lady. I forbid you to see him."

I snort. As if that's gonna work on me. He hasn't disciplined me before, why now? "Well, I'm eighteen in three months." I collect my plate. "You can't tell me who to love then." I throw the remainders of my dinner in the trash.

"You do not speak to me in that way. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh, I don't know." My arms flap about. "Maybe it's the fact that you're hunting my boyfriend!"

"That's it!" He stands.

"What? What can you possibly do?"

He shakes a finger at me. "You're grounded. Until you start behaving like my Cassie again."

"Wake up to yourself, Dad," I spit. "I'm seventeen. I might not be the same little, fragile girl who lost her mother, but I _am_ Cassie. You're just never around to see it." I stomp out of the room and up the stairs.

"Come back here. Now."

"Not until you're ready to listen." The door slams behind me.

Grounded? Is he _serious_?

***

I scrub the sponge across the plate. It's not as if I have anything better to do. I snort, rinse the dish, and shove it into the rack. I'd rather be anywhere else but here, _grounded_ like an immature brat. Is that what Dad thinks of me? I thought I was pretty self-reliant. Never asked him for anything, been paying my own way since I was sixteen, and this is what I get in return? No Seb, no friends, no life? We've gone from cordial roommates to distant father and daughter in the space of a day. It's not supposed to be like this. Mom's heart would be breaking right now if she knew. Maybe she _is_ watching over us and she's trying to shake us back to reality.

Or maybe she doesn't even exist anymore. Who knows?

I drop another plate in the sink and watch it splash, bubbles taking flight and descending towards the counter. What a load of crap this is. He's barred me from using the phone; I'm not even allowed to call Miley. I switch on the radio, like Seb does, and try to find his favorite station. I miss him. It's only been two days, but I crave his comforting hands and smile. I feel myself falling apart at the seams, my heart aching to know what happened to my Evie—desperate to find out before I fall apart completely. There's no Seb to stitch me back up, to hold me until the sun comes up. There might as well be no Seb at all because I have no idea when I'll see him again. _If_ I'm allowed to see him again. But I can't pretend he doesn't exist because that hurts just as bad.

The first night, he tried to sneak in. Then we discovered that Dad had nailed the window shut. Perhaps on Monday, Seb will be there when I get out of school, but with Marcus as my shadow, I don't have a chance of getting even a moment alone.

Someone thumps on the front door, ripping me from my musings. I peel off the rubber gloves and drag my feet down the hall to the door. Uncle Scott's face appears in the little side window, anxious and flustered. His eyes are pleading with me not to open the door. He has bad news.

Breathing in deep, I twist the lock and then the knob. I can handle the news, right? He's framed in the darkness of night, but I can just make out all the lines on his face.

He heaves a sigh. "Cass. May I come in?"

I kick the door open further. "Is this about Eve?" Cut to the chase, I don't want my insides gnawing away at me any longer.

He folds himself onto the couch, where he's silent for a moment, probably thinking how to word the update for his niece.

I want to shake it out of him, not because I'm angry or resentful towards him in any way. But I'm nervous, anxious that they found her and she's dead. Why else would he be looking so uneasy right now? I make myself sit in one of the overstuffed armchairs to wait out the silence.

He clears his throat, but he doesn't meet my eyes. "I'm afraid to say that I do have some terrible news."

I wait for him to continue. He doesn't.

"You found Eve?" I say, and then hold my breath.

He shakes his head. "We found a girl about her age. But we're unable to tell at this moment." He pauses, twists his wedding ring. "Robyn would hate if I gave you any details..."

"Give it to me," I say. "I can handle it." I'm sure I can.

His eyes settle on mine. "Facial recognition isn't possible at this stage. The body is too," he twists the ring again, "damaged. We're waiting for DNA analysis."

My stomach churns. Those sick bastards—what have they done to her? "How long will that take?"

"Anywhere from a week to two."

My hands ball at my sides. That's too long to wait.

"I'm trying to get it fast-tracked, Cass, I'm doing everything I possibly can." He swipes his palm over his moist forehead. "The coroner's working on determining race and other factors, to maybe give us more clues."

I nod for him to go on. He knows I'm inquisitive like my mother and would want to know more. And I know he can't tell me, and that I'm pushing the boundaries as usual, but I want to know. _Need_ to.

He clears his throat again. "The cadaver was fairly messed up. The skin was shredded and peeled away—"

The image of Ash in my bathroom sparks to life behind my eyes, him almost shredding my arm with his talon-like nails.

"—most of the bones are broken and—"

My stomach lurches. Robyn's right; I can't handle it. I sprint for the bathroom and manage to prop up the toilet seat in time for dinner to reappear.

This has to be them. And it isn't just a game. It's personal. I stole their precious leader, so they murdered my best friend. She's the warning.

I'm next.

My ears are roaring. The room is spinning—or is it the earth and I'm the axis?

A hand brushes my shoulder. Another frees hair from my face. "Cassie, are you okay? Should I call your dad?"

Tears crash down my cheeks as my hollow stomach spasms. "Seb," I moan. I don't care if Dad or his brother throttles me for saying his name. Seb brings the comfort, happiness I seek. "Seb."

My uncle's face softens. He drops to his knees beside me. "I know why your dad grounded you. And I want you to know that I don't think he's being fair." He hands me a wad of toilet paper.

I wipe my mouth. "I don't know who he wants me to be, who he thinks I am. Seb is..."

"He's not like the others—hasn't been for a long time, I know." He cups my hand in his. "I'm going to do _everything_ I can to get your dad to see that."

"Why? You're a Hunter; you're supposed to kill these things."

"Because I, like Seb, am not like the others. I was born into this world, like him, with the sole purpose of killing. And as much as he doesn't want to hurt us, I don't want to kill him. It's not right."

I slide my legs from under my butt and cross them in front of me. "So that makes you an ally?" I feel a smile blossom on my lips.

He nods. "I suppose it does."

"How did you—?"

Dad's face appears around the doorway. His voice booms, ricocheting through the bathroom. "Go to your room, Cassandra."

Uncle Scott's features flash with fear. I straighten, my eyes not leaving Dad's until I'm out of the room. I scurry up the stairs but loiter on the landing.

"How could you? My own brother," Dad says.

"You know this isn't fair on her."

"I won't have her _frolicking_ with those—those _things_."

"You know very well, brother, that love is blind. She doesn't see that boy as you do."

"Don't you mean as _we_ do?" Dad says.

I hear someone sigh.

"She's had a tough day, Brett. We found a girl we think is the Murphey's daughter."

Footsteps near, clomping into the hall—Dad. I scramble up the last flight of stairs and into my room. I press the door shut, careful not to make a sound.

My breathing is heavy as I try to make sense of what I'd learned in the previous minutes. My fingers ache to hold Seb's. I shove them under my arms. _Don't think about it_.

But how can I not?

Uncle Scott's words whisper in my ear. _Anywhere from a week to two_. I must find out soon if that girl is Eve.

The week passes in a blur. I don't remember much—school, homework, chores—all a distant, tainted memory. No results with the DNA analysis yet. Seb's been calling, but Dad won't let me speak to him.

On an astonishingly sunny Monday, when the house is quiet and Dad is away, the phone rings.

Do I dare pick it up?

Seb

I dial Cassie's number, hoping that she'll answer but expecting her father. I'm surprised when I hear her voice.

"Hello?" she says, cautious.

"Hey, honeybee."

"Seb! Oh, I miss you!"

"I know," I say. "Me, too. How've you been?"

"It's horrible, the waiting. Uncle Scott says they found a body—a girl the same age as Eve." Her voice quivers on the last part.

"And?"

"We're waiting for results of the DNA tests," she says. "Apparently, your brothers did a number on this poor girl."

"Why do you assume it's one of them?"

"Remember what Ash did to me? Well, it was like that, but worse and all over."

My fist pounds the table. Cutlery and plates rattle.

"What was that?" she says.

"Earthquake."

"Oh? You're on the next street; I didn't feel anything."

"I'm joking, Cass. I hit the table."

"Why, was it being naughty?" She giggles.

Though she won't see it, I manage a smile. "So, how're you holding up?"

"Fine." She blows a sigh. "Just fine."

"Uh-huh. I bet that _fine_ is spelled c-r-a-p."

"It might be, especially if Dad doesn't let me see you soon."

I almost suggest us running away together, away from Arizona, like we planned those many nights ago, but I think better of it. She'd say yes, and it would only get both of us into more trouble.

She sniffles.

I wish I were there, wiping away her tears, holding her tight, waiting for the news together. "Y'okay?"

"No."

I gnaw on my lip as her sobs pour through the receiver. "Oh, Cass. What can I do? How can I help?" What use am I to her over the phone?

"I don't know."

"I'll stay on the phone all night, if you want. I'll do anything."

"Okay. It's so lovely to hear your voice."

"I'll find a way to see you again." I hear a knock on the door.

"Hang on," she says, "I have to put you down, because if anyone sees me on the phone..."

"I'll wait."

There's a tap and I imagine her setting the handset down on the coffee table, walking down the hall to the door. I can just make out a male voice. For the first time, I'm both happy and irritated to have a wolf's hearing.

"Cass, take a seat," I hear him say. "I got the results back on the sample from the girl."

I hold my breath as I wait, torn between wanting and not wanting for it to be her.

Cassie

"Cass, take a seat," Uncle Scott says. "I got the results back on the sample from the girl."

I do as he says, knowing my gut feeling is right. "Go on," I say, vying for an even, relaxed tone.

His mouth opens and closes several times before he speaks. And when he does, he takes on the formal tone of Sheriff Scott. "The girl—" He looks at me, probably imagining me on a cold, stainless-steel slab in autopsy. "—the _body_ that was found last week is indeed Evelyn Anne Murphey." His face crumples. "Cass, I'm sorry."

It takes seconds for the meaning of his words to hit me. _Eve is dead. Eve was murdered_. I thought I'd be a wreck. But I don't feel a damn thing. I'm numb all over. Did she suffer? Feel pain? If she did, I wish I could take it away.

I can hear Seb breathing hard through the phone.

Scott strokes my shoulder. "If there's anything I can do..."

He must be able to hear Seb. My fingers itch for the phone, for my boyfriend. I shake my head.

"Anywhere you'd like me to drop you?"

I look up at him. He raises his eyebrows, and then nods towards the handset. He's making a big mistake, crossing a line my dad has stubbornly drawn. The repercussions for both of us could be fatal. But in this moment, I don't care.

I jump up. "Take me to the Adler's?" I don't know whether Dad's aware Seb is staying there or not, but I'd rather fall apart with my boyfriend then alone.

"Sure."

I grab the phone. "I'll be over in a minute."

"What—but—you can't!"

I cut off Seb's protests. "See you soon." I tap the end call button, throwing my arms around my uncle.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do."

"I'll try to speak to your dad, get him to come 'round."

"Thanks, but I don't think that's gonna happen any time soon."

"Okay, well c'mon. Let's get Cinderella to her Prince Charming."

My heart swells. "Thank you." I reach up to press my lips to his cheek. "For everything." My mind swirls with thoughts of Eve and Seb as we drive the thirty-second route to the always-fragrant home of my extended family.

Sarah opens the door. "Hi. Are you—?" Her eyes dart over my face. "Come in, dear."

She knows.

Seb jogs from his room, irises scorching with rage and sorrow. He coils his arms around me, squeezing tight. I press my face into his chest, clinging to him like a starving person might cling to food. I could feel the walls crashing down as soon as he'd touched me.

"Come," he says, towing me into his room.

My chest heaves. I'm fighting to keep my misery locked inside. But as soon as he closes his door, it bursts out. I try to catch my breath as images and thoughts whip through my brain—why her? Eve didn't deserve this—but I can't. I feel droplets of water drip off my chin as I sob and wail.

Seb's arms are locked around me, rocking me, crying with me. He hardly knew her, but we are a team—when I am in pain, he is also.

"Sh-shh." His fingers weave into my hair. "We'll get through this. Believe it, Cass, we will."

I know he's right, but at this very moment, it feels as if my world is ending. I just hope we can survive the apocalypse.

After I'd pretty much cried myself out, Seb and I stay up watching his favorite lame cop shows—which are becoming my favorite as well—and munch on treats Sarah picked up for me on her usual afternoon stroll.

Seb pops a chocolate malt ball into my open mouth. The corners of my lips lift infinitesimally. I'd like to smile, tell him I'm okay, but I seem to have no idea how to tonight. Instead, I curl my fingers into his, rest my head on his shoulder, and, somehow, drift into slumber.

I wake to outcries. A millisecond before the bedroom door rips open, I realize it's Dad and Sarah. The wood clatters against the lime green wall, knocking a picture frame from its nail.

"Cassandra Louise." My name rumbles throughout the room. "What the hell do you think you are doing? I told you to stay away from him!"

"Doctor Spencer," Seb calmly says, "Cass just received some devastating news."

Dad's eyes swerve to him, and then back to me.

"Don't blame Seb," I say. "This has nothing to do with him."

"You bet I'll blame him, young lady." He lurches forwards and grabs my wrist. "You're coming with me. And we're going to have a long talk about obedience and how you're never going to see this boy again." He yanks me out of the bed, out of Seb's reach, with such force that I stumble and fall on my face.

"Leave her alone," Seb growls.

I can see Mrs. Adler loitering in the doorway, shaking, nervous, not knowing if she should intercede.

"This doesn't concern you, mutt."

I hear Seb's breathing quicken, deepen—almost a snort—feel him and the room vibrate. _He's shifting_. I roll onto my back and pull myself up.

Dad grabs my arm. "Get out of here, Cass. I'll deal with him."

Deal with him?

He extends a silver knife from his sleeve.

"No!" I shake his grip off me.

"Now listen here!" Sarah creeps forwards. "This is a boy you're speaking of killing; he's like a son to me! You'll do no such thing!" She pushes me behind her.

I notice Seb is white-knuckled, gripping the mattress, trying to hold the wolf inside.

"Sarah, he's an aberration. He must be dealt with like any other creature of the night."

"You get out of my house," she says, dead serious. "And don't come back."

Dad sets his jaw.

"First, you cut us off from our goddaughter—which was _unbearable_ and inexcusable—and now, you want to take Seb? No. I won't let you do it."

"It's not up to you, Sarah."

"The hell it isn't! What has he ever done to you?"

"He's not _human_ ; he doesn't get to play boyfriend with my daughter! I can't lose her..."

"You lost her the moment you threatened him, Brett. Now, get out. I'm not going to say it again."

Dad slides the knife back up his sleeve. Without looking at me, he says, "C'mon, Cass. Let's go home."

"The girl stays here."

He levels a stare at Sarah. "I'm her father. Who the hell are you to say what's best for her?"

"Because I, dear Brett, am her godmother. And Libby would've wanted it."

"Do not talk about my wife as if you know a scrap about her."

She hugs me to her side, lifting her chin high. "I'd wager I knew her better than you did."

He grunts and pushes past her, jostling us. "We'll talk about this later. I expect you to be home tomorrow."

"There'll be no _later_ , Dad."

Seb, now composed, closes the gap between us and reaches for my hand.

"My home," I say, "is wherever _he_ is. And if you don't want him in your house, then consider my departure effective immediately."

He turns and marches towards the front door. I tremble. What have I done? Seb's arm curls around my waist, crossing over Sarah's.

"Who's up for some hot chocolate?" she says.

None of us can even hope of catching forty winks, now that Dad has threatened Seb. So we might as well have a hot drink and watch some more TV.

"Sure," I say, letting her lead us to the kitchen. "Do you mind if I stay here for a few nights?" I say to her, but I direct the question at Seb as well. "Until he calms down?"

"For as long as you want," Mrs. Adler says, "you're always welcome."

Seb nods in confirmation, a grin flooding his features. "This'll be fun!"

I know what he's thinking. It's as close to having our own house as we can get at the moment. Maybe this is a good thing. I can sort out my dramas before facing my father. "I don't have anything. I didn't think to bring a thing when I left."

Sarah scoops powdered chocolate into three mugs. "Jess still has a closet full of clothes here."

"Oh, I don't know if I can do that..." The thought of someone touching my stuff without asking unnerves me.

"She'll be back in the morning. Three marshmallows?"

I nod.

"She got transferred from Jacksonville. Seb, three as well?"

He grins. "Four."

She clicks her tongue. "Cheeky boy." She hands me a mug. "If you like, I can send my husband to your house tomorrow to pick up anything else you need—schoolbooks, toothbrush..."

My vision smears. "Thanks." I blink back the tears.

"It's been a trying day, hasn't it?" She sits next to me.

Seb, on my other side, sips his chocolate, his hand never leaving mine.

I squeeze his fingers. "Yes, it has."

"Poor thing." She smoothes back my hair. "I remember when you were just a tiny baby. I was there when you were born, did you know?"

I shake my head.

"Your dad was late, as usual." She rolls her eyes, amused.

I smirk. "Has he ever been on time?"

"It took him _hours_ to realize you were here," Seb says.

Sarah hops up and skips over to the freezer.

I gulp some hot chocolate. "You said something about Jess being transferred back here?"

She nods and hauls out a gallon tub of caramel swirl ice cream. "Yes. She got promoted to regional manager."

"That's awesome." The last time I'd seen her daughter, she had just started high school. I'd heard about the big things through Liam, but even we grew apart as the years ticked by. Having a father with a distaste for the Adlers didn't make it easy to maintain those friendships.

"She's getting married next year, and they're expecting!" She sets the tub and three spoons in the center of the table.

I can't believe I've missed a whole chunk of their lives because of Dad's arrogance. Something happened between him and Sarah. I know it. A fight? They seem to clash easily, like tonight.

Seb attacks the dessert, and then offers me a spoonful. "She'll be happy to see you."

Is it weird that he's living with my godparents? I haven't got enough mental space left to figure that one out at the moment.

I accept the scoop and achieve what I pray is a smile. "I can't wait to see her either." What does she look like now? My eyes wander over the room, hopeful for a photo. None in here. I'll remember to scour the living room later. I pass him back the spoon. "Where're the others?"

"Jack's pulling a double shift at the precinct. I don't know where Liam is."

"He's with Whitney," Seb says.

"Oh, yes." She's quiet for a minute, fiddling with the hem of her pajama shirt. "It's such a shame what happened."

_Don't cry. You are done with crying, for tonight at least._ "Yes." I'm surprised my voice didn't shake. I push myself up. "I should call Miley."

"It's past twelve. Nothing you can do tonight, Cassie."

She's right. My eyelids grow heavy at the mention of the hour, my lashes flutter closed.

"Get her to bed, Seb," she whispers.

He swings me into his arms.

***

The next thing I remember is waking up next to him, the midmorning sun streaming through the parted blinds.

"Morning." He smiles and kisses my forehead.

I stretch every muscle before saying, "Morning."

"You sleep okay?"

I roll into him and press my nose to his collarbone. "Mm. I guess so. You?" I look up at him.

Shadows line his lower lids.

"Did you sleep at all?" I say.

"An hour here and there."

"Worried about me?"

He responds by tugging me closer and brushing his lips against mine. "Do you want breakfast?"

I consider that for a moment. I'm not hungry, but I should probably feed my body. "Something totally fattening."

"Good choice." He grins. "Feel up to going out, or shall I pick up something and bring it back?"

"If I can borrow some clothes and a hairbrush." Going out, getting on with my life, sounded wrong. But Eve would approve. _Sorrow is for suckers_ , she'd say.

"Jess is home. Go ask her."

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad into the hall. Where's her bedroom? I recall it being opposite to Liam's. I make my way over and knock on the door.

There's a shuffle of papers, and then she says, "Come in."

I crack open the door. "Jess?"

Her eyes drift to me. "Cassie!" She propels herself forwards, wrapping her arms around me. "Wow, look at you!"

I let her twirl me around.

"All grown up!"

"Yeah, eleven years does that."

As she swamps me in a hug, she says, "Stupid parents and their egos, eh?"

"I heard you're going to be a mom soon?"

"Yes." She releases me and returns to her desk chair. "Not showing much yet."

"I'm so happy for you. Can't wait to meet the newest member of the Adlers."

"Me either." Her smile is genuine and glowing, matching the elation in her features.

"Mind if I borrow some jeans and a shirt?"

"No problem at all." She pushes back her frothy, brown hair and rises again. "Take your pick, it's the least I can do." She opens her closet.

"I guess you heard, then?" I select a black V-neck and a pair of torn jeans.

"That you're dating the newest member of the family or that your dad went _Psycho_ on you?"

I blush at her comment of Seb. "But you missed one."

"Yes, I know." She drops her gaze to her boots. "But Mom banned me from bringing it up. She's so protective of you." Jess smirks.

I can feel a sob manifesting in my throat. I need to change the subject fast. "I heard you got promoted."

"Yeah. Last week. I'm moving back to Aeston with my fiancé. Living with the parents is a temporary thing, until we find a house or an apartment—we haven't really decided on what type of property we want." She chuckles. "More options this way."

"Gosh, I couldn't believe it when your mom told me you were getting married, and when Liam said you were having a baby." Though there are seven years between us, it still feels as if we're sisters. Just not by blood. With the Spencers and the Adlers reunited, it feels as if we're one big family again.

She turns away. "I know, right?"

I strip out of my clothes and replace them with hers.

"You'll like Neal. He's sweet—a lot like your guy." She peers over her shoulder, sees that I'm dressed, and swivels back, grinning. "Think you two will get married?"

"I hope so." I collect my clothes. "Speaking of, I'd better get back to him or he'll send out a search party."

She barks a laugh. "Yes, yes. Go." She pretends to shoo me. "We'll catch up later."

I return her smile. "I'd like that." I've missed too much.

Seb waits for me in the hall. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I comb my fingers through my hair.

"Don't worry," he says, "you look beautiful. But then again, you always do."

"You're so good to me." Do I deserve him?

"I don't have any other choice." He winks and tucks me under his arm.

***

At 1:15 pm, Mr. Adler drives me home so I can collect some things. We turn onto my street. Dad's SUV is in the driveway.

"He's home," I say.

"Nothing to fret about, sweetheart." He smiles and pats my knee.

I pray that this goes smoothly. Just in and out. Two minutes is all I need.

"Let's get this over with."

"I like the way you think." I step out and shut the door.

The house seems still, silent as we march up the path and the steps. Jack pounds his fist on the door. A second later, it opens.

Dad stares out at us. "The prodigal daughter returns."

My nose wrinkles. He stinks of whiskey and sweat.

"Come on in." He opens the door wider. "I suppose you've come to get your things? Good. Should've kicked you out years ago."

He's just baiting you. Don't react.

"Now see here, Brett." Jack gives me a gentle shove inside, past Dad. "If you don't think you can look after her anymore—"

"Go ahead, take her." He swigs from a bottle. "She's nothing to me anymore but an inconvenience." He shoots me a glare.

I round the corner and press myself to the cool wall. This isn't him. He's drunk, lost his mind—zombies ate his brain or whatever. This is not him, the way he's acting. Still, I can't stop the tears streaking down my face. _Get your shit and get out._

"You don't really mean that," Jack says.

I stumble into my room, not wanting to overhear the answer, and pull out my suitcase. I throw in my schoolbooks, toiletries, some clothes, and any other little things I can squeeze in. This feels too final for my liking. Something has divided us. Equal parts of stubbornness and scheming maybe. My two minutes are up. I drag my suitcase into the living room. My godfather remains by the door. Dad and the whiskey have migrated to the couch. He's past caring, and so am I. This is it.

Jack ushers me out, shutting the door.

This is really it.

I sniffle, thinking of all the things I've lost over the past twenty-four hours. In my lifetime.

"Don't worry." He curls an arm around my shoulders. "You'll work things out with him eventually. Until then," he heaves my bulging suitcase into the trunk, "you have a home with us." He opens the passenger door for me. "Can I drop you anywhere?"

I sigh and slide in. "Take me to Roadrunner Records."

When I locate Seb, I crush myself to him.

"Whoa, hey, beautiful." He lifts up my chin. "How did it go? I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

My vision blurs. I swipe the back of my hands furiously over my cheeks. "Now I know how you feel—homeless, parentless."

He stares into my eyes for a beat, swallows hard, and then turns to Liam. "Can you help the next customers? I'm taking five."

"Sure."

A wave of guilt crashes over me. I hadn't noticed him at the register.

Seb tows me into the back room. "Tell me everything."

As I fill him in, I trace the veins on his forearm with my pinkie. "Yeah, and then he said I'm an inconvenience."

"You don't believe him, do you?"

I shrug a shoulder. "I don't know what to think about anything anymore."

He tears a tissue from the box and dabs at my eyes. "We orphans gotta stick together." He smirks.

"Indeed we do."

"Seb," Liam's voice floats in. "You got another visitor."

A beat later, Kat ambles in. "Yo. How we all doin'?" He freezes midway. Must've seen my face. "I can come back..."

I shake my head. "I should get back to the Adler's."

"Are you sure?" Seb says. "I can't let you walk by yourself."

"I'll take her," Kat says.

"That'll be cool with me." I blow my nose.

"I'll circle back later to tell you the latest rez gossip."

Seb snorts. "What—like hairstyles and this season's colors?"

I chuckle.

Kat glares at both of us, trying hard not to smile. "C'mon, blondie."

I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss Seb. "See you tonight?"

He bobs his head twice.

"Hey, speaking of dinner," Kat says as he walks me out. "Can I come?"

"We'll ask Sarah when we get there."

He takes that as a yes and grins. "Cool."

Waving bye to Liam, I step into the balmy afternoon. I can feel Kat's eyes on me. "What?"

"You havin' a bad day or somethin'?"

I snort. "You could say that."

"Anythin' I can do to help?" A flash of a grin.

"Not let me get pummeled by this Ash dude."

"Sure, but I meant right now."

"Oh." I swing my bag as we walk. "I don't know if there's anything you can do."

"Well, when you figure it out, let me know."

"You're a softie." I link my arm in his.

"Don't tell the others that," he whispers.

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Good." His grin widens. "Now, who hurt you? Who do I have to punch?"

I stroke his arm. "If I tell you, you might kill him."

His face drops. "Nah-uh. Don't do that anymore." He shakes his head for emphasis.

"Just teasing."

"Oh, phew!" He thinks for a beat. "It's not Seb, is it?"

"Pardon?"

"That's upset you?"

I beam. "No, he's a gem."

"Good."

We separate as an elderly couple approach us, regrouping as they pass.

"Have you ever lost someone, Kat?"

"You're talkin' about your friend, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"My mom. I'm real sorry 'bout Eve by the way."

"It's not your fault."

We reach the house and he hesitates, shifting from foot to foot.

"Scaredy-Kat. What're you afraid of?" I push open the door.

He watches me kick off my shoes in the hall and hang my bag on the coat rack.

Is it because he's never been inside without Seb? "You coming or what?" I say over my shoulder.

He sighs, trudging up the steps.

I find Sarah and Jess in the kitchen. "Hope you don't mind, I invited a friend for dinner."

"Don't be silly," Mrs. Adler says, "your friends are welcome."

Kat appears in the doorway.

She notices him. "Especially you, handsome."

Is he blushing? I stifle a giggle.

"You should invite your other friends." Sarah passes me a muffin.

It's still warm. "Okay. Will do."

Kat's eyes widen as he leans against the doorframe. Maybe he hasn't been around this many humans at once.

"What do you think?" I say to him, trying to gauge whether adding more delicious humans to tonight's guest list is something he can cope with.

He nods. "Sounds fun. What's for dinner, Mrs. A?"

"Jack's bringing pizza."

"Awe _some_." He taps my shoulder. "I'll swing back a bit later. Gotta speak to Sebby."

"Sure, thanks for walking me home."

"Anytime." His disappears into the hall.

Jess wipes a dish towel over a plate. "Strangest yellow eyes, that one."

Sarah's gaze meets mine for a moment, and then she turns away. "Jess, sweetie, can you grab me the good silverware? It's packed away in the garage."

My finger traces the flower pattern on the placemat as we wait for the eldest sibling to venture outside.

Sarah swivels to face me. "How are you coping with everything, Cassie?"

I shake my head, not knowing what to say. _My father left me here; he doesn't care. I'm worried Seb won't come home one day. I'm terrified of losing someone else._ These thoughts come easily, as they do every night when I'm lying in bed, but I don't know how to voice them.

Sarah offers me a wad of tissues as Jess comes striding back into the house. I hadn't realized I was crying, but I'm choking back sobs now and trying to rub the sadness I feel from my eyes.

Sarah reaches for the wrapped bundle in her daughter's hands. "Thanks, darling."

"Excuse me." I push back my chair as my eyes continue to fill with salt water and feel my way to Seb's room—my room. Our room. I hear someone follow me.

"Leave her, Jessica."

The footsteps halt. I shut the door and lean against the back of it, allowing the fear and searing misery to overcome me. I've lost everything. And gained so much I forgot I was missing.

That night, Mr. Alder arrives home with six pizzas. "Hi everyone," he says, his face worn. "I trust you all had an okay day?"

We each mumble our answers, all still affected by Eve's departure. Miley, Xay, and Whitney have joined us; Whitney took a bit of convincing to get here—from Miley and myself—once he found out that Seb and Kat were going to be there. The ten of us cluster around the six-seater dining room table.

"Good, good," he says as he sets the pizzas in the middle.

Liam drags one box to his end of the table. He and Kat grab a slice each. Seb flips open another, hands me a slice of supreme. Miley stares at us, probably wondering, _How can you eat?_ I don't know how, but for me, it's better than sitting around doing nothing. Or thinking about things I shouldn't.

"We should send flowers," Miley says, "or something. I can't imagine what the Murpheys are going through."

Sarah squeezes her shoulder. "None of us can, dear."

"Maybe Cassie can," Liam says.

My eyes snap to his. "I doubt losing a parent is the same as losing a child."

His mouth twists in agony, and I wonder if I was too harsh.

Xavier selects a slice, hesitant. "Poor Riley." He offers the pizza to his girlfriend.

She declines.

Eve's brother—I'd forgotten about him. My spirits take a dive. Whitney whimpers. I throw an arm around him for comfort.

"Can I get anyone anything to drink?" Sarah says.

A few joke about doing shots.

"Non-alcoholic, I'm afraid. You're all still underage—except Jess, and she's pregnant." Her hand brushes my shoulder as she passes. "Cola all right with everyone?"

We nod in unison.

"Can we talk about something else?" I say. "I'm trying so hard not to lose it."

"Sure," Jess says. "Hmm." She's quiet for a second, thinking. "What're all of you planning for next year? Anyone got accepted into colleges yet?"

Jess manages to keep the chatter light for the rest of the night, and I couldn't be more grateful.

" _Thank you_ ," I mouth as we're seeing everyone out.

She hugs me, squeezing tight. "You're welcome. You need anything, just say so."

I hear Miley sniffle behind us.

Jess rolls her eyes and holds an arm out for her. "Okay, come on." She smiles as Miley completes the circle, hugging us both.

A moment too soon, Miley releases us. "Sorry, I've got to get home. I have a strict nine o'clock curfew now."

"I'll see you at school," I say and watch her leave with Whit and Xay.

Kat waves goodbye. "Later."

Liam closes the door after him. The six of us stand in the quiet for a minute, before dissipating to our designated parts of the house—Seb and me to our bedroom, Liam to the garage, Jess to her room, Jack and Sarah to the kitchen.

Seb hugs me tight to his chest. "What'd you wanna do now?"

I wriggle my arms free and wrap them around him. "This."

"What a crap couple of days, eh?"

"I just wanna forget it all. Maybe I'm dreaming..."

He pinches my side.

"Yow!"

"Hate to tell ya, babe, but you're not dreaming."

"Wish I were."

"We can wish all we like. I don't think it makes our problems go away."

"Wish they would."

He knocks my legs from under me and carries me over to the bed. "We should probably try to get some sleep."

As if that's gonna happen any time soon.

"Or we can stay up again. Look at all this leftover candy." He drags the torn paper bag closer with a grin. "We've got hours of fun left here."

"What's on to watch?"

"Let's see." He picks up the remote and taps the power button. The screen flickers on.

"You're lucky to have a TV in your room." I never had one in mine.

He clears his throat. " _Our_ room."

"Yes."

"Think of this as a test, step number one towards our future." He touches his lips to my cheek. "First, a room together."

"Check."

"Then a house. What'd ya reckon?"

I snuggle into him, sniffing his spearmint and sage scent. "I think it's the best thing I've heard this year."

"Oh, I'm that impressive?" he teases. "Guess I've gotta compete with my charming self."

I snort. "You're so full of yourself sometimes. But there is no competition."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Not even Marcus, if he were available?"

"Never had a chance. No one's gonna steal me away from you, not even Mr. Perfect or Mr. Rich."

"Interesting." He flips through the channels at an alarming pace.

How can he tell what's on? Or are fast eyes part of the wolf package, too?

"What're you in the mood for," he says, "movie or rerun?"

"Hm, you choose." I can't be bothered.

"Movie."

I snatch the packet of raspberry licorice and nibble on a piece as I watch the cartoon dog chase after its owners. "You think we're ever going to be happy? No family disasters?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Me, too."

"But right now it feels improbable, eh?"

I nod.

"It'll pass. Life will resume normality—maybe not for me."

"You can't expect your old life to be resurrected. That's as good as gone."

He sighs. "I know."

Maybe mine, too.

It's odd eating breakfast with a different crowd. No un-caffeinated Dad or Lizzy mewing for food. Everyone squeezes themselves in at the dining table and picks at the assortment of breakfast foods on offer—pancakes, raisin toast, and French toast. Are mornings always awesome in this house?

"You know," Jack says, "we only eat like this when we have company."

I guess not. I sip my coffee. "Guess you're lucky then, to have a new addition."

He returns my smile and nods once. "That we are."

Since this food won't be a regular occurrence, I pile my plate high. But the more time I spend eating, the less I seem to want to go to school.

Seb, reading this on my face, says, "Sarah, does Cass have to go to school today?"

She turns to look at me, coming to the same conclusion. "Think you can catch up?"

"Yes. And Liam's in a few of my classes."

He leans over his plate and grumbles, "So, naturally she expects me to help her."

Sarah shoots him a glare that could slice through bone. " _Liam_."

"I mean—certainly, I'll help you, _sis_." He flashes me a grin and shovels more toast in.

"Okay, then. I'll write you a note. You might have to explain why it's not from your dad."

I think as I munch on a corner of French toast. "I can get Uncle Scott to call them."

"Are you sure?" she says.

"Yeah."

"You wanna come to work with me?" Seb gulps his orange juice.

"Hm. I don't suppose you'd take 'no' for an answer?"

"Nope."

"I suppose I will, then."

Jess bumps my elbow. "Pass the syrup, please?"

Handing it to her, I say, "What're you doing today?"

She beams. "Shopping."

"Aw. Can I go with her instead?" I say to Seb.

"If you want," he says.

"It's only for a couple of hours, but you're more than welcome to come."

"What time are you leaving?" I say.

"Probably around ten. I can drop you back at the record store after."

"Sounds great."

"Does that make me your bodyguard for the morning?" She barks a laugh.

"That's hilarious," Liam says. "You've never been in a fight in your life."

"How would you know? Maybe I have." She tosses her brown locks over her shoulder.

"Sure, sure." He snickers as he finishes his meal. "I'm off."

"Getting to school early?" Sarah says.

"Yep. Meeting the guys." He throws his bag over his shoulder and ducks down to press his lips to his mother's cheek. "Thanks for breakfast. Love you." He squeezes his father's shoulder, and then points a finger at me. "You repeat that in school tomorrow and I'll getcha for it."

My lips twitch into a smile as I draw a cross over my heart. "Promise."

Seb waits for him to leave before turning to me. "You can boast to anyone you want. He can't harm a hair on your head with this one as your bodyguard." He thrusts his thumb at Jess.

"Oh ha ha. Very funny, Sebastian." She throws down her napkin and stands, clearing both hers and her brother's plate.

I catch Seb's eye, and we share a smirk. No, she obviously doesn't know what he is or that Sebastian—or even Seb—isn't his birth name. Ignorant? Or refuses to believe in mythical creatures?

"The way this one watches out for you," she tips her head towards Seb, "you'd think you were the president or something. It's not like she's going to get shot."

***

That afternoon, I help Seb sort CDs and shelve them.

Chad looks over my shoulder. "Hey, Seb. Your girlfriend has the knack for this!"

"Yeah, she worked out the categorization quicker than I did."

Chad spins me around. "Pop quiz—where would you put a Linkin Park CD?"

Trick question. "Which one?"

The corners of his lips ease upwards. " _Hybrid Theory_."

"Main category—B for badass. Subcategories—A for awesome, then Alternative Rock." It's simple really. You've just got to think like Chad.

"Iron Maiden's _The Number of the Beast_?"

"Main category—E for epic. Subcategories—M for mind-blowingly awesome, then H for Heavy Metal."

He takes a bow. "Can I offer you a casual position, M'lady?"

"Hm." I tap my foot, pretending to think. "How much does it pay?"

We sit, and Chad writes down an hourly figure.

"Sorry. Joe pays me a dollar more an hour."

"Uh." He grabs at the skin above his heart. "Thy lady hath stoleth my hearteth."

Seb selects an Anthrax CD. "She stole mine first. You're awfully Shakespearean today, Chad."

"I know. I think it's the fact that my girlfriend broke up with me. I feel like a tortured poet." He sinks into a chair.

"Aw." I sit next to him. "It'll be okay."

"Obviously, you would say that. You're half of a bloody couple." Chad whimpers. "I'm not."

"Cheer up, sunshine," Seb says. "You were only with Justine for three days."

My eyes widen. "Is that true, Chad?"

"Well, it felt like a bloody eternity." He shrugs, despondent. "I could see into her soul, man."

Seb smirks. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't her soul you were seeing."

I pat Chad's head and return to my shelf.

At three, we make an executive decision and send Chad home. His sobbing is scaring customers away.

"She's a freakin' keeper this one." Chad points at me. "Don't crush her like Justine did to—" He breaks off with a sob.

"Don't worry; I'm not planning on it," Seb says, shooting a glorious smile my way as he ushers him out. "You okay to drive? Yes? Good. See you tomorrow."

My eyes track Seb's boss as he teeters over to a gray Camaro. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine. This is a semi-regular occurrence for him."

"Wailing or being on the receiving end of a break up?"

He thinks for a moment. "Both. They're synonymous with Chad." Throwing an arm around me, he touches his lips to my forehead.

"He's an emotional wreck. Maybe we could set him up with someone!" I feel my eyes widen in delight.

"Nice try, but we both hang out with people closer to our age than his."

"Eloise just turned twenty-four. Only two years younger."

Seb blows a sigh. "Fine. You ask her if she's interested, and I'll ask him."

"It's a deal."

He squeezes me. "You sure are cute when you're setting people up."

***

The following afternoon, I breeze into work, stash my bag, and tie on my apron.

Eloise wanders out from the kitchen. "Hiya."

"Hey."

"I heard about, ah—"

"Please don't, not here." I can't stand another person saying _I'm sorry_.

She chews on her lip, and then nods. "How's the boyfriend?"

My lips tug into a grin. "He's amazing, as always."

"I hate being single, feeling lonely."

"I think loneliness is a state of mind. You can surround yourself with as many people as you like, but still be lonely."

"I guess I can believe that," she says, and then flashes a grin. "But I'd still like someone to take me out and y'know..."

"I have a friend that's—"

Seb bursts through the door. "Cass, it's off."

My head snaps up. "Why?"

"Because he's still a wreck."

As Seb gestures behind himself, Chad stumbles through the door, his face twisted in agony.

Eloise notices him and stares wide-eyed for a beat before she wanders over. "Poor thing. What's the matter?"

"He's got a broken heart," I say, knowing she likes mending them.

"Oh?" She strokes his back. "There, there."

I wink at Seb, and though he smiles, I can see he's still uncertain about the whole thing.

"I gotta get back to the store." He bends and kisses my temple.

"Oh yeah, me too—work, I mean."

"See you later?"

I nod. "You're my ride home."

He opens the door, blows me a kiss, and steps outside.

A beat too late, I pretend to catch it, and then let my hand drop to my side.

Seb

Back at the store, I let myself in and flip the sign to open. I grab the newspaper and flick to the crossword section. Roadrunner Records is usually quiet at this time on a Tuesday, so I'm surprised when two men enter. Two Hunters. One is Cassie's uncle. The other, her father. I resist the urge to pummel him. It would only get me into more trouble.

Without taking my eyes off the puzzle, I say, "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like my daughter back."

"Sorry, sir. Can't help you with that," I say. "We both know she has a mind of her own."

He snatches the paper from my hands, the pages slicing through my fingers. Scott tenses. I can tell he wants to grab me a bandage, but he is afraid his brother will lash out at him. Good thing I heal fast.

"I am well aware," Brett says, tone smooth, controlled. "That's why I need your help."

" _My_ help? Ha. Good luck with that." I wipe the already drying blood on the corner of a magazine.

"Please."

I mull that over for a second. "No."

He steps closer. "I propose a treaty, immunity for you. If you help me get her back home, we'll leave you alone. No coming after you. Nothing."

"You two or all the Hunters?"

"All. They do as I say."

I smirk. "Yeah, you see, I was once alpha, and they tossed me aside without a second thought. What makes you think yours won't do the same?"

He stares at me for a second. "Then I guess it's just my brother and me."

I nod. "Thought so."

"Tell us what else we can do."

"Take Kat off your list and I'll think about it. He's about as dangerous to humans as a—well, as a kitty."

Brett nods, pensive. "Deal." He thrusts out his right hand.

I shake it. "I won't force her to go back, but I'll talk it over with her."

He hands me back the paper. "Thanks."

"Remember, I said I'd _try_. No guarantees."

Scott smiles and thumps my shoulder. Then they're gone.

The thing is, I like living with Cass. Love it, even—getting to wake up next to her and not having to sneak into her bedroom at night. Although, that was kinda fun. Is it selfish to ask her to stay, knowing that her dad is miserable without her?

***

At 4:49 pm, the shop is empty and Chad hasn't returned, so I lock up and head for the café. Cass looks up when I enter and flashes me a smile. I lean over the counter to steal a kiss.

"You're early," she says.

"Yeah. You know where Chad went?" Then I hear his voice wafting out from one of the back rooms. "He's still here?"

"Yup. I've been filling in for Eloise while she babysits."

"Sorry. I'll make it up to you, just name the price."

She grins. "I call foot rub."

"Good choice." I hear Chad again. "He doesn't sound miserable."

"Oh, he and El have hit it off apparently. They're probably on their first date already. I heard him ask her to dance. No music, though." Her face scrunches.

"Chad doesn't need music." I tap my temple with a forefinger. "It's all up here."

"He's weird." She grins. "I like him."

"Me, too."

"Can I get you anything before the kitchen closes?"

I shake my head. "Mrs. Adler's making pot roast."

"Ooh." Her eyes sparkle with delight.

Chad appears behind her. "Dude, sorry for abandoning you but I had, like, the most epic day."

"So I heard," I say.

He grins and floats to the door. "Laters."

I hear Eloise giggle. A beat later, she ventures out. "What a fascinating man!"

Cass rolls her eyes. "Why don't we, uh, start closing up?"

"Right, right." She smiles to herself as she counts the coins from the register.

Tonight, Cass takes on all the menial tasks of closing up. I help her clear plates and wipe tables. Locking the front door, she flips the sign to closed. She stacks the dishwasher, and then checks to see if El counted right. She was off by three dollars and forty-two cents.

Then we make sure Eloise gets into her car before we head for mine back at the store.

Cass takes my hand and sighs. "I feel as if I just worked a double shift."

"Tired?"

"More than, if that's possible."

"When we get home, you can go straight to bed if you like." I'll find another moment to broach the subject of her father.

"And miss out on pot roast and that foot rub? No, thank you."

I wonder if I can skip school again?

"You have to go," Seb says, tracing his fingers across my arm. "Your friends might think you've gone missing, too."

"That's ridiculous." When had I last spoken to anyone from school? I haven't attended for two days. He's probably right. "Fine," I grumble.

"You used to like school."

"That was before this whole mess began, when life was simple and I was happy."

He pouts. "You're not happy?"

"Always when I'm with you, Seb. But two weeks ago, I had my best friend and I was living at Dad's."

"You ever gonna go back?" he says.

I shrug. "If he wants me. But he's made it clear he doesn't."

He's quiet for a moment.

"What?" I say. "Have you heard different?"

He nods. "He and your uncle came into the store yesterday."

I swallow hard. "What did he want?"

"To bargain. A trade, I guess. I give you to him; he gives Kat and me immunity."

"And what did you say?"

"I'm not gonna make you go back."

"Good."

"Good?"

"That you're not going to just hand me over."

"I'd never do that. It's your choice."

"What do you think I should do?"

"It's your choice."

"Yeah, but—"

He presses a finger to my lips. "Think about it."

I don't want to. I already know this is the place for me.

He can see my resistance. "Just think about it, Cass. Then, when you're eighteen, we can go anywhere you like."

Anywhere? I like the sound of that. "Okay."

"Let's see what's on offer for breakfast, shall we?"

***

When I get to school, everything is in chaos—the emergency bell is screeching, echoing across the yard. Teachers are commanding students to evacuate to the football field in an orderly fashion, and students are appearing panicked but forced to stay calm.

What the...?

I spot Mr. Jameson by the entrance and dodge some wayward peers to get to him. "What's going on?"

He swivels to face me. "Ah, Cassie." He smiles. "Good to see you're back."

"Why is everyone scattering?" I say.

His smile remains. "Bomb threat."

I freeze. "Pardon?" Who would want to blow up Aeston High? It's got to be a prank.

"It's best you follow everyone to the football field, Cassie." He nods, stern.

I open my mouth to thank him, and then Marcus catches my elbow.

"C'mon, Cass. Let's get moving."

As he tows me along like a disobedient child, I spot Miley, Xavier, and their younger siblings up ahead. I call out to them and twist my arm out of Marcus' hold. "Miles!"

Her head whips around in my direction, and she pauses for a beat to allow me to catch up. Marcus is close, practically nipping at my heels.

"Hey," she says. "Sorry, I looked for you, but then we were told to move."

"Don't be silly. I'm glad you guys are safe."

Lily, Miley's younger sister, loops her arm through mine as we march over the grass and down the slight hill into the field. "Are we going to die? Because that would, like, totally suck," she says.

The color drains from Miley's face. "What? No, Lily! Of course not!"

We're told to find our class, and so I have to locate Mrs. Browne, leaving my friends behind. With the exception of Marcus, who thinks he's my shadow.

Aiming to get a better look at everyone, I step up onto the second level of the bleachers.

"Be careful," he says, looking uneasy and reaching out in case he has to steady me.

I ignore him. Heights don't bother me. Slowly swiveling my head from right to left, I spot my English teacher, and then jump down. "She's over there." I gesture to my left, and then stride off in that direction.

Once our names are marked off, we settle into the grass to wait.

***

An hour later, we're told we can go back to class. Concealing a yawn with my hand, I trudge along with the rest of the students in a haze of drowsiness. I guess working overtime to balance out Eloise's distraction with Chad, the stress of moving out of Dad's, and Eve's death, was finally catching up with me. When I'm packing up my books at the end of English, I look up to see that Mrs. Browne is standing in front of my desk, wearing an unusually sympathetic smile underneath the serious façade. I straighten my spine, my mouth stretching wide in another yawn.

"Cassie." She places a slip of paper on top of my notebook—a hall pass—and keeps her voice low. "I think you should go and talk to the school counselor."

"I'm fine—"

She taps a finger on the page of my notebook—blank. I hadn't even written the date. "You've been falling asleep in many of my classes this week and last. I think you should talk to someone."

The school counselor is busy when I arrive at her office, so Mrs. Adams sends me to the nurse's office.

"You look like you're about to fall off your feet, love." The nurse sits me down on one of the beds. "What's going on?"

"I'm just tired." To prove my point, my lips part in another yawn and my eyelids droop closed.

"Are you sleeping okay, love?"

I think the question should be "Are you sleeping?" but I don't correct her. "No, not really," I say.

"Hmm." Tapping her long fingernails on the counter, she appraises me. "If you can't concentrate in your classes, it's not really doing you any good, is it? I think maybe you should go home."

"Okay."

"I'll write you a note. Can I call anyone to come and pick you up?"

I'm about to say I can drive myself home—and then I remember Seb had dropped me off this morning. I could walk. Though if Seb found out, he would totally freak. "Mrs. Adler." She's the only one who I know can pick me up. Everyone else is at work or here at school.

"Okay, I'll give her a quick ring." Smiling softly at me, the nurse shuts the door behind herself as she leaves.

I lie down on the bed, the paper crinkling beneath me, and allow my eyes to drift closed. _Tomorrow_ , I tell myself. _Tomorrow, I'll be ready to come back._

Ten minutes later, Sarah is ushering me up the front stairs and into the house. "The school nurse said you were tired?"

"Mm. Haven't been sleeping as well as I'm used to."

"Is this about Eve?"

"It's about a lot of things. Dad, Eve, and Ash..."

"Well, if you need someone to talk to—someone who understands two of the three—you know where to find me." She slips the backpack off of my shoulder. "But for now—off to bed!" She shoos me. "Take the chance while it's quiet."

Drowsy, I make my way to my room. I kick off my shoes and curl up under the blankets.

***

It's dark when I wake. Had I really slept that long? I roll over and find Seb, eyes closed and breathing lightly. He's so peaceful, childlike, when he's asleep. Beautiful. I resist the urge to brush my lips across his, not wanting to wake him. My stomach thunders. Food. Must consume food. I carefully swing my legs over the side and aim to sneak out of the room. But I kick something on my way out, and it makes an awful _clunk_. I still for a moment, listening for sounds that indicate I've woken him.

His sleepy voice comes from the darkness, "Cass?"

"Sorry, go back to sleep. I'm just getting a snack." Or a meal fit for a king—that might satiate my growling stomach.

"Sarah put leftovers on a plate for you," he whispers.

"Okay. Thanks." I creep into the hall.

In the kitchen, I grab the plate from the fridge—a mountainous bulge of food—and nuke it in the microwave. I pour myself a glass of cola as my plate rotates, then I sit at the table and devour every morsel. When I'm done, I rinse my plate and drift back to Seb.

He's awake, waiting. "Liam filled me in on today's occurrences. Bomb threat, eh? Lucky you."

"Mm." I slide in next to him. "I got to catch up on my sleep."

"Seventeen hours. I gotta say I'm impressed."

I can just make out his grin in the soft moonlight.

"I had to check your pulse a couple of times to make sure you weren't in a coma or, y'know, _dead_. Nothing would wake you."

I snuggle into him. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Jess tried jumping on the bed. I held coffee under your nose. Liam actually cracked a smile, and you missed it."

"Damn." I must've really been dead to the world.

"Kat wanted to blast an air horn, but Sarah stopped him."

"Kat was here?"

"Yep. Apparently, he had something pretty important to tell you."

"What was it?"

"He overheard Tas making the call to your school about a bomb in the kiln of one of the art rooms. Thought we should know."

"Which one is he?" I try to recall if I'd met him.

"Short brown hair, light hazel eyes."

I shake my head. From that day when the six of them came into the café, I can only remember meeting Seb and how psyched Eve was for Whitney to have asked her out. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face in his chest. What I require is some sense of normalcy. "I think I'll go see Dad tomorrow."

"Really?" He sounds hopeful. Happy that I'm trying to make amends, I suppose.

"Yeah." I'll miss this house—the fabulous food, the wonderful people, and most of all, sleeping next to Seb. I don't know what Dad's restrictions will be, whether he'll let Seb stay over or not. But Dad must be lonely, missing my company.

"Don't let him be too hard on you."

"I won't."

"You want me to come with?"

"Sure."

***

At 10:15 am, I knock on the door. We wait ten agonizing seconds before the door opens.

Dad's surprised to see us. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes are wide. "Come in. Both of you."

So he's serious about this treaty then. Good, it should give me a bit more leeway when discussing my own set of rules. Like seeing my boyfriend, for instance.

Seb and I take the couch, siting a respectful distance apart while holding hands, and Dad occupies the armchair. Seb's thumb massages the back of my hand. Dad notices, and I wonder what he's thinking— _how sweet_ or possibly, _get away from her, you mongrel_.

Who should speak first?

Seb does. "Is this a staring contest or are we gonna get the all-important discussion underway soon?"

If I were closer, I'd elbow him in the ribs. Lucky for him, he's just out of reach.

"Sure," Dad says. "First thing, it's nice to see you, Cass." His lips curl into a small smile.

I nod in response, not trusting my voice just yet. Will I scream at him? Burst out crying for what he's done—lying to me my entire life about the Hunters, ostracizing the Adlers, pushing me away, and then trying to drag me back?

"Second thing. I'm sure Seb has told you that I visited him in the music store."

This is not a question. How can he be so cocky, thinking he knows all?

"I tell her everything, sir," Seb says.

"Right. Well, I'm not going to ask you to move back in. That is your choice. You're old enough to do what you want." He meets Seb's eyes for a beat.

I surprise myself. "I do want to move back."

Dad's smile widens.

"On two conditions," I say, and my gaze flickers to my boyfriend.

Dad gestures for me to continue.

"Seb can visit after school when neither of us are working and on weekends. And—"

"And he can stay over one night a week." Dad cuts his eyes to him. "In the _spare_ bedroom."

I glare. "Sarah had no problem letting us sleep in the same room, same _bed_. And _nothing_ happened." I feel my features soften—sadden. "Don't you trust me?"

He grunts and grumbles to himself for a moment. Seb smirks. Can he hear what my father's saying?

Dad throws his hands up in defeat. "Fine. I do trust you; you're right."

I give Seb's hand a quick pulse, which he returns.

"So, does this mean you'll come back?" A spark of hope kindles in his features.

"Yes."

He lurches out of his chair, grinning, and stumbles towards us, pulling me into a messy hug. "I'm sorry for everything I have and haven't done."

"Apology accepted."

Dad calms and resumes his seat.

"But if you don't mind, I'd like to stay at the Adler's one more night." They're awesome people, taking Seb and myself in at our most vulnerable states.

"It doesn't have to be the last night, Cass," Seb says. "I'm sure you're welcome over any time."

"He's right." Dad stands. "They're a humble family."

We get up, too.

"Do you have any conditions for me?" I let Seb tuck me under his arm.

He thinks for a moment. "That we make the time to do things together, like we used to. I know I've been very busy lately—"

"Okay." I smile.

Dad sighs. "I feel as if I blinked and suddenly, you're all grown up. Not my little Cass."

"I'll always be your little Cass, just bigger."

"Smarter," Seb says, and then adds, "feistier. More competitive."

"We get the picture." I elbow him, making up for earlier while I'm at it.

"Like her mother." Dad smiles.

"What did she look like?"

I sigh. "Let's not drag out the family photo album." There are some pictures in there I don't want him to see of my childhood.

Dad flicks a hand at me. "Mirror image."

"Freaky." Seb backs away from me, mocking. "Are you sure she wasn't bitten by one of us as a child and chose your wife to shift into?"

"Hmm." Dad rubs his chin, playing along.

Now that they're not trying to rip each other's throats out, they're both ganging up on me. "My eyes don't do that freaky glow thing at night, and I don't have any super-human abilities or the slightest urge to hunt."

Dad shrugs. "Too bad. That would make for a lovely dinner conversation."

Seb guffaws and tugs me to his side again.

"I'll be back tomorrow," I say, sincere.

"Good, good." He hugs me again, and then slaps Seb on the back—something that must've been tough for him to do; his Hunter senses must be screaming.

"See, wasn't that bad," Seb says as we cross the yard to his car.

"Hm. I guess not."

"Hey, let's go for ice cream!" He grins and opens my door.

An image crackles through my mind of Eve serving me at Rocky Roads. A hand squeezes my shoulder.

Eerily reading my mind again, he says, "I know a place on rez."

I draw in a deep, cleansing breath and let it wash away the memory.

"You okay?"

I nod. "Yeah." I buckle my seat belt. Has my pain weakened, or have I simply grown strong enough to bear it?

Seb

"Is apple okay?" Cass says, fussing over a pie base. "They like apple, right?"

"Yes," I say, watching her, fascinated by her careful, nimble fingers as they press the pastry into a dish.

"And Jess is a vegan." She dusts off her floury hands and tugs open the fridge. "I'll make her one with this olive spread." She examines the container before kicking the door closed. "That should be okay." Her brow has been wrinkled in concentration and worry most of the afternoon.

"You don't have to make dessert. They already know you're grateful."

"I know." Her face softens. "But I like baking. And it gives me something to do."

"You're amazing, you know?"

"Yep." She smiles, fiddles with the dials on the oven, and then slides the pie base in.

When she straightens, I wrap my arms around her waist. I'm lucky. I'm really lucky, aren't I? She means everything to me, and I'll miss not being around her thirteen hours a day. But I am happy that she's worked things out with her father. I know I'll probably never settle things with mine. We are not mirror images, like Brett said about her and her mother. We are polar opposites.

She giggles. "What's this for?"

"Just because."

"Stealing hugs now?"

I feel her melt in my arms. "Yup. That okay with you?"

"Always." She giggles again and starts swaying.

"Dance?"

"No music."

I reach over and switch on the radio. Blue October's _You Make Me Smile_ filters into the room.

"How is it possible," she says, "that the exact right song comes on at the exact right moment?" She touches her cheek to my shoulder.

I lift her up, spinning her around. "I've always wondered that myself."

"Another mystery of the universe."

"It's magic."

"Magic?" She snorts. "Maybe."

The song ends, and I place her back on her feet. She doesn't let go. Neither do I.

After a minute, she says, "I'd better make the filling." She turns, but she isn't quick enough.

I catch her swiping her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" I seize her hand.

She sniffles. "So much has changed." She twists out of my hold. "I feel as if I'm waiting. Waiting for the next thing to shake my world, tear it apart." She locates the tin of pie apples in the shopping bag and pulls on the tab. "When will my life settle back to normalcy?"

"Oh, come on, Cass." I smirk. "Was it ever normal to begin with?"

She cracks a strained smile. "How do you know me so well?"

I shrug. She's an open book to me—every gesture, every twitch of her lips, every word she does and doesn't say translates into something maybe only I can read. "I'm a quick learner."

"Sure." She smiles, unconstrained this time. "You wanna learn something else, Einstein?"

"Shoot."

On the floured countertop, her finger draws a shape. At first, I have no idea what it is. After a second, I realize, it's a perfectly symmetrical heart filled with our initials: C.S + H.N

"I already knew that," I say.

"Just making sure you did." She scoops out the mushy apple pieces. "Wouldn't want you to forget since we won't be spending every waking moment together after tomorrow."

"Not likely."

"Good to know."

I hear the front door click shut.

"Anyone home?" Mrs. Adler says.

Cass calls out to her. "We're in the kitchen, Sarah."

She wanders in, an amused smile in place. "What are you two doing in my office?"

"Um, making a mess." Cass measures out the sugar. "A _delicious_ mess."

"She wanted to bake something as a thank-you."

Sarah's gaze settles on Cass.

"I fixed things with Dad. Moving back in tomorrow."

"Oh, you don't have to do anything to thank us," she says. "You needed a place to stay and we didn't think twice about it."

I turn down the volume on the radio so it's just a whisper in the background. "That's what I said."

"Yeah, well, I still wanted to make something."

_To keep her hands busy until then_ , I finish the thought she wouldn't say. She is nervous about going back. Scared her father will punish her? No. Terrified of losing someone else, someone more dear to her?

Bingo.

If my ex-pack is watching, what are they seeing? Us hanging out with this nice little family, our haven? Yes, their safety is a priority now, also. I've put them in danger, Cass too. Surely, I must've known this when Liam offered me a bed. But I didn't know them, then, like I do now. They're _my_ family. They've shown more kindness towards me than mine ever have—my mother the only exception.

Sarah smiles and hugs Cass. "You do what you must. I'm just going to grab a snack and get out of your way." She releases her, opening the cupboard above the stove and pulling out a slab of chocolate. "I look forward to a slice tonight!" She flicks us a wave, and then traipses out of the room.

The timer _dings_.

Cass slides oven mitts onto her hands and hauls the piecrust out. "She's in a particularly good mood. Her pottery class must've gone well." She sets the dish on a wire rack to cool.

"Hope they don't plant a bomb in the kiln," I tease.

She stares at me, eyes glistening. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Sorry. It was a joke, a very bad joke." I hug her and clamp my eyes shut. _Good job, Seb_.

She pulls away from me. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"You sure? I could go outside and beat myself over the head with a stick."

"There'll be no beating of heads," Sarah says as she returns. "Wouldn't want to kill those brain cells." She pinches my cheek, and then grabs a mug from the stand and fills it with coffee.

Cass chuckles as she spoons the mixture onto the crust.

"More coffee, Cassie?" She lifts up the carafe.

"Um, sure. Thanks."

I pick up her favorite kitty mug and hold it out.

Sarah tops up the brown liquid. "Who would think that something this bad could be so addictive?" She takes a sip before vanishing again.

***

The six of us decide on a special dinner—since it's Cassie's last night—and Kat joins us.

"Five pizzas," Jack says into the phone. "One supreme, two pepperoni, one Italian sausage, and one veggie without the cheese. Plus three garlic breads, two bottles of cola, and one of every dessert you have." He listens for a moment, and then laughs. "No, not a party. I just have four starving guys and three ladies to feed!" He snickers. "Half an hour? Great!" He replaces the phone in its cradle.

Pizza was Cass' decision, and I couldn't be more satisfied with her choice.

"How about we try some of Cassie's pie?" Sarah retrieves a knife. There's uncertainty on her face. Probably because she doesn't know whether her goddaughter is a good baker or a terrible one. She makes a cut, notices the knife glides through it effortlessly, and smiles, proud.

Cass hops up. "I'll slice the other one." She drags the dish towards her. "Jess, I really hope it tastes okay. I tried my best."

Her lips tug upwards. "I'm sure it will."

Sarah slides pieces onto plates. "It's the thought that counts."

That's something like Mom would say. Growing up with the bare necessities sure makes you grateful for the little things in life.

Cass cuts two pieces—one for Jess and one for herself. She often has such surges of courage—standing up to Ash, her father. Standing up _for_ Liam at times when his opinions ruffle some feathers, and even myself. She really is amazing. One of a kind. A diamond in the rough.

"Anyone want a scoop of ice cream? Custard?" Mrs. Adler covers the dish with plastic wrap.

Liam and Kat ask for ice cream, the others—including myself—want custard.

The night creeps on in a perfect symphony—the pies are outstanding, Cassie sparkles with fervor as Sarah boasts about them, music fills the home, and pizza is devoured. Too soon, it seems to end. Too soon, the morning comes and she's packing.

Got everything?" Seb says, zipping up my suitcase.

My eyes scour the room. "I think so."

"If not, I can drop it off later." His smile is tense.

I tangle my fingers in his.

He pulls me close. "Don't be a stranger."

I roll my eyes. "I'll only be a street away. It's not as if I'm time traveling to another century."

His lips twitch into a grin. "Too bad. Sounds fun."

I shove him, amused, and drag my suitcase off the mattress. "See you 'round, handsome."

"You sure you don't want me to drive you?"

"I can walk. I'll be fine. Sarah gave me her pepper spray, and I have my spike-heeled boots on." I lift my left leg to show him.

"Ooh. Sure to do some damage."

"You make it sound as if Ash or some crim _will_ attack me on the two-minute walk."

He shrugs. "It's highly probable."

"You have to get ready for work." I touch my lips to his, and then as if trying to reassure myself as well, I say, "I'll be fine." What could happen in two minutes?

"Walk safe. And call me when you get home, okay?"

"Absolutely."

He nods but doesn't look convinced.

"What?"

"Cass, I can't let you go alone; I'd worry too much. It's only gonna take thirty seconds to drop you off."

Well, when he says it like that...

I heave a massive sigh. "Okay, fine."

***

I arrive home safely. I even manage to walk up the driveway without Seb being a helicopter boyfriend. No one attacked me or even looked at me funny. _See, I would've been fine_ , I want to say to him, but knew how he would react. He waits until I'm inside before leaving.

I take a moment to suck in the atmosphere. _Home_. Doesn't feel the same.

Dad's not here. Work? A note sits on the coffee table, written in his familiar doctor scrawl: _Got called in. I'll be home for dinner._

Super. I went from a full house to an empty one. It was a nice change to not be alone all the time.

Lizzy purrs and tangles herself around my feet. Okay, so maybe I'm not totally alone.

I pick her up and cradle her in my arms. "Miss me? No? Figures." I set her on her feet, and she prances towards the kitchen. Following, I pick up the landline. I punch in his number and wait.

After three rings, he picks up.

"Hello?" Seb says.

"Just letting you know I'm still alive, no dangers or monsters under my bed."

"It was a terrifying twenty seconds," he jests.

"I bet it was."

"What did your dad say?"

"He's not here. Got called into work apparently." I eye the shiny, gold, rectangular box on the counter. Intrigued, I flip open the lid. He's bought my favorite chocolates. I feel my heart swell with gratitude. How thoughtful. He's trying hard to win me back, that's for sure. I select one and sit at the table.

Seb's voice pierces my thoughts, "Cass, you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. Got distracted."

"What's on your mind, honeybee?"

I heave a sigh. "It's so quiet here."

"Don't tell me you miss us already?"

"I might. I definitely miss you." I reach for another chocolate.

"You'll be fine."

"I'm a little disappointed that you won't have to sneak into my bedroom anymore."

"Me, too. But at least we won't have to be so secretive now."

"True."

"I'll let you go get settled in."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye." I hang up and sit for a moment in the quiet.

Try as I might, can my two lives ever be joined seamlessly?

When I don't come up with an answer, I push back my chair and return to my abandoned suitcase.

Oh, screw it. Unpacking can wait. I need a nap.

***

I awake with a start at the sound of the front door clunking shut. I await signs of movement—Dad's clomping or Seb's scuffing. Has something finally arrived to torture me? No, Ash is stealthy.

_Tap tap tap_. Heels?

"Cassie?"

Miles.

I ninja-roll out of bed. "I'm here." I meet her in the living room.

Her lips quirk up when she sees me. "Hope you don't mind me dropping in unannounced. _Again_. Seb told me you were here."

"No problem at all. What's up?" I perch on the arm of the couch.

"I don't know if anyone has told you." She sinks into an armchair. "Eve's..." She dithers. "F—funeral is Saturday morning. Xay and I are going with Whitney, and we were wondering if you would like a ride."

Eve's funeral. How could I forget such a thing? I've been so selfish this week, only thinking of Seb and myself, and how to make _me_ feel better. _Me me me_. I'm such an idiot. "Can I get back to you?" Seb'll want to be there for me.

"There's room for Seb as well. We're taking Xay's Merc."

"Okay."

"We were also wondering if you would write her a eulogy ...?" Clearing her throat, she shifts in her seat. "You're—you were—her best friend, after all."

"S—sure, I can do that." I can't do that! I know I'll end up crying in front of everyone and making a fool of myself.

"Okay, great."

_Great_. I exhale audibly. "Got time for a coffee?"

She bobs her head and follows me to the kitchen.

"Dad bought me those Belgian chocolates I like."

"Ooh. Can I pinch one?"

"Help yourself." I grab two mugs and the jar of espresso beans.

"Thanks." She leans against the counter and watches me grind the coffee to dust. "So, when're you coming back to school? Marcus has been driving everyone nuts, asking about you."

"Bet Tori loves that."

She shrugs. "Doesn't matter what she thinks now."

"What does that mean?"

Her eyes widen. "They broke up. Didn't you hear?"

"Marcus and Tori broke up?" I've been so far out of the inner circle lately that tidbits like this have slipped by, gone unnoticed until someone prods them. And what does this mean for me? Will Marcus' blatant flirting ratchet up ten thousand notches? "Crap."

Miley misinterprets that as sympathy. "I know, right. Sad."

I figure it's been a long time coming, but I don't voice my opinion. She might not see things as I do. "Is the whole school still talking about me?"

Wincing visibly, she says, "Yeah."

"It'll blow over soon, right?"

"For your sake, I hope so, Cass."

Half an hour later, I wave goodbye to Miley from the porch. As her coupe pulls out, Dad's SUV swings in.

He hurries to lock the car and bounds up the five steps to me. "Hi, sweetheart." He coils his arms around my shoulders, presses his lips to my cheek. "So delighted to have you back. Did you find the chocolates?"

"Yes, and thanks."

He leads me into the house, shutting the door. "How's Seb?"

His question catches me by surprise. He's never asked about him before. "He's fine, good."

"Brilliant!" he says, without a clump of sarcasm. "I thought we could invite him over for dinner one night this week."

I'm not sure I trust this alien facet of my father. Has he moved too quickly into accepting Seb?

"What do you think? Can be any night of your choice."

"Sure, yeah. That'll be great."

He beams. "Let's see what we can scrounge up for dinner, eh?" With an arm still around me, he tows me into the kitchen.

"I could whip up some pasta." If I recall correctly, there's still an unopened jar of sauce and a packet of spaghetti in the pantry.

"If you wish. Though we can easily call for takeout as well."

I feel my stomach twist and knot. I've had too much junk this week. The drawbacks of living with someone who has a bigger sweet tooth than I do. Trying to outdo Seb is not an easy feat. "Hm."

Dad smirks. "You look green. Is something wrong?"

"Pasta will be fine."

He chuckles. "Someone in the Adler household must have a keen sugar stash."

"Mm. And that someone is my boyfriend." I swivel to fill a pot with water and set it on the stove.

Dad grabs the box of noodles and tears open one end. "I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you."

"I know, Dad."

"You have every right to hate me."

"I don't, not anymore."

"Seb?"

I shake my head. "But I'm curious why we drifted apart from my godparents."

"Undoubtedly you are," he says under his breath, dropping a handful of pasta into the pot. "We had a _disagreement_ about whether I was a fit enough parent to raise you by myself. My wife had just died, and I was a wreck. They wanted to have you live there, with them." He sighs. "Sometimes, I wonder if you would've been happier there, with a sister and a brother to play with ..."

"I might not've met Seb." And I wouldn't be able to tell a skinwalker apart from a regular human.

"Yes, well, things have certainly changed, haven't they?"

"Everything," I say.

He's silent for a minute. "I am sorry, also, about Eve."

I tense, wait for the misery, the guilt, to come. It doesn't. "Thanks."

"If you like, I can drive you tomorrow."

"Miley beat you to it."

"She did? Oh. Never mind." He lowers his eyes to his shoes.

I stir the noodles. "Are you going?"

He nods once. "As a courtesy to the Murpheys. I owe them that much."

I'm about to ask what he means, when there's a _smash_ , tailed by a sickening crackling and the acrid smell of wood burning. My heart belly flops to my toes. Dad jogs into the hall. I shadow him.

A thick, gray waft of smoke clouds the entryway. My eyes can just make out the table by the door, snaked in amber—it's on fire—and the trail of gasoline passing under our feet. Was this here when I came home? I would have smelled it, if it were.

Dad shoves me back the way we came. My toe snags on the corner of my suitcase, and I stumble.

He catches me and flings open the back door. "Run."

Run where?

"Get out of here! Go!"

My pulse thunders in my ears. Before I realize where I'm going, my feet are carrying me around the house and down the street, through the darkness. My mind is numb as I am running. I can't tell where I am going. I pause to catch my bearings. A porch light snatches my attention, shining bright, illuminating the front yard. I've returned to my safe haven.

Jack is in the yard, watering the hydrangeas. "Hello, Cassie." He notices my bare feet first, then whatever's on my face—fear? "What's the matter?" The hose drops from his grasp.

"Call the fire department," I say as I gulp in breaths. "My house is on fire." Lizzy! I clutch at my chest. Oh, my poor cat.

He charges up the steps, into the house. I'm too shocked to move, catch my breath, process what had just happened.

Seb comes to the door, sees me and rushes over. "Are you okay? What happened? Jack said your house is on fire?"

My breathing evens as soon as his arms are locked around me. "Yes." Is Dad safe?

"Are you hurt?" He holds me at an arm's length to check for visible wounds.

"No."

He pulls me tight against his chest again. "Tell me what happened."

It isn't a question; I can't avoid it. So, I fill him in—on everything since our phone chat this afternoon.

Someone offers me a plastic cup of water.

My gaze swings up to Jess. "Thanks," I mumble and accept it.

Sarah tugs her back a bit, onto the porch steps. "Give them some space."

A fire truck roars down the street, and then makes a hard right, turning onto mine. My feet want to follow, as if they have a mind of their own, disconnected from the rest of my body. But I resist and sink to the ground, salt water welling in my eyes, blinding me.

"Hey." Seb pokes me.

I ignore him.

"Look." He wipes my eyes, forcing me to see, and then points over my shoulder.

Reluctantly, my eyes follow to the last shrub in the yard. At first, I see nothing out of the ordinary, nothing worth pointing out. Then I glimpse a white-tipped tail. Two black, pointy ears. Four white paws. Two yellow eyes, glowing in the light from the porch.

I jump up. "Lizzy!" I'm crying again, tears spurting from my eyes. I thought I'd never see her again.

She lets me pick her up, and I rock her in my arms. Seb smiles, goes to scratch the fur behind her ears. She hisses and tries to shred his hand.

"Nice cat." Jess' tone drips with sarcasm.

A minute later, a figure appears in the street, two houses down. Dad. How'd he know I'd come here? Or did his heart show him the way to me?

"Dad!" I'm caught between wanting to run to him and wanting to stay.

He sprints over. "Oh, Cassie, I'm glad you're safe." He goes to hug me, and then notices Lizzy in my arms. He settles on patting my back. "The good news is that they put the fire out. It didn't spread, thankfully."

I'm surprised. The gasoline didn't catch? "The bad news?"

"None, really. We can go back in. There's not that much damage, and the fire department has given us the all-clear."

I didn't really want to sleep there; whoever it was may come back.

Sarah pads over to us. "Why don't you just grab some things and stay here?"

"Are you sure?" Dad says. Things between them are still fragile; this will be the ultimate test—can they move on?

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Let's go before it gets too late."

"I'm coming with," Seb says.

I have a feeling he isn't going to let me out of his sight for a while.

Dad stares at him for the longest minute before sighing. "Okay, but tonight—"

"I sleep on the floor, I know, sir."

We already agreed on sleeping arrangements—that Dad trusted me enough—but I let that slide for tonight. No use in having another fight right now when we're all exhausted.

A worn smile spreads on my father's features. "Let's go home."

***

The front door has been eaten by flames.

"This can't be safe," I say, stepping over shards of what used to be the hall table.

"Is there any indication left of who did this?" Seb lifts me over a chunk of wood.

Dad shakes his head. "But I know what. There's this one—" His eyes dart to Seb, and then back to the mangled carpet in front of him. "One skinwalker that I've been pissing off. You can probably guess."

He aims this at Seb, but I can form the answer, too.

Ash.

I toe a rock out of the way. "So we're all in his warpath, I see." I spot a bigger stone ahead. "What's this?" I pick it up and turn it over. A note is taped to the back of it and a chill shimmies down my spine, bunkering in my toes. I pass it to Seb.

My father peers over his shoulder and reads the words aloud. "'Watch. Wait. Listen.' Christ, what have I gotten us into?"

I roll my eyes skywards. "Dad, I'm pretty sure this began with Seb. They mess with you, get to me, to hurt Seb."

Seb's mouth scrunches. "It could've been the other way around, Cass. I could be the pawn in this game, not you after all."

He could be right. What better way is there to get to a Hunter than to hurt his daughter?

***

I open an eye. The sun seeps through Seb's bedroom curtains. I close that eye. My fingers march across the bed, searching for him, where he always is.

But he's not here.

Voices carry from elsewhere in the house. Laughter. I peel back the blankets and crack the door open an inch. Two males, one younger. Seb and Dad. Chitchatting over breakfast?

This is so weird. But I can get used to it.

I trade my pajamas for sweatpants and a tee, coaxing my frazzled hair into a ponytail. Then I creep out of his room, up the hall, and lean around the kitchen archway, staring at them, their laughter echoing through the Adler's house. Seb is cooking. The aroma of blueberries, butter, and coffee tickle my nose. Dad's reading the paper at the table. The rest of the house is quiet; the Adlers don't seem to be home.

Seb swivels to say something else and sees me. His grin is brighter than magnesium burning. He's found another place to call home, and I don't think he can get any happier than this. But I could be wrong. We're only young—there are many more thrilling and terrifying experiences ahead of us.

He drops the spatula on the counter and swings me into his arms, kissing me. "Good morning."

"Eh, eh," Dad says, "watch the PDAs."

"There were no rules about that, Dad. And besides, this isn't your house."

"So? I'm still your father."

Seb releases me.

"What's for breakfast?" I hoist myself up onto the countertop.

"Pancakes." He flips the one in the pan onto a plated stack.

"Yum." I reach for one.

He slaps my hand away, smiling. "Wait your turn, honeybee."

"How long?" My stomach snarls. We didn't have dinner last night.

He pours more batter in. "One more."

"Cool."

"Would you mind making the syrup?"

" _Making_?" I'm used to squeezing it from a bottle. "Sure. What do I do?"

He curls a finger, waving me closer. I hop off the counter and stand next to him.

"Everything's measured out. Just pop them in this saucepan." He edges it closer to me. "And when it boils, keep stirring."

I do as told, curiosity growing stronger with every ingredient I throw in. "Where did you learn this?"

His eyes meet mine, saddening as the moments tick by. "Mom taught me." He forces a grin, and then hugs me again.

He must miss her so much. I know how he feels. But at least he can speak to and see his again. I don't have that luxury.

The mixture bubbles. As I stir, I think of what I can do to reunite him and his mother. Surely, there's a way where his father doesn't have to find out.

Dad stands, refills his mug. "Smells good." His face contorts for a beat. "You should cook breakfast for us when we get back into the house. That kitchen hasn't smelt like this since Libby..."

Welcome to the house of damaged souls. Please accept this complimentary bag of goodies as an appreciation for your stay.

"Well, I hope they're just as good." Seb slides the last pancake onto the plate and sets it on the table. He then pours the syrup into a jug.

Dad slides two onto his plate. "I'm sure they are." He drizzles some syrup over the top.

Seb pulls out my chair. I press a kiss to his cheek and sit. I catch Dad staring at us, a smile growing on his lips.

"Who would've thought my daughter and a creature I'm supposed to be hunting would make such an adorable couple?" he says.

His sincerity, his acceptance of us as a unit, shocks me. Who would've thought of Dad as a softie?

"Thanks," I say, grabbing myself two pancakes. Everything's gonna be all right. He and Seb are beginning to get along. I'm coping, even though my best friend is gone, my house nearly burned down, and we have psychotic Ash after us. I'm coping.

After I've had my fill of pancakes and coffee, I retreat to the bedroom and snitch a notepad from Seb's side table. A pen as well. I flip to a blank page and stare at it, pressing the tip of the pen to the top line, trying to conjure up the words. Not just any words—they've got to be the right ones.

But I don't know how to sum up all that is Eve, or how to express how much it _hurts_ that she's gone. I'm not a writer; I can't command the words to appear.

I stare at that page for the longest time, salt water dripping off my chin because I—I can't do it.

How do you write a eulogy for a friend you've known the majority of your life? I'm not sure it can be done.

I'm about to give up when he slides onto the bed next to me. I hadn't heard him come in.

"What's wrong, Cass?" He swipes a thumb under each of my eyes, and then glances at the notepad in my grasp. Catching on, he says, "Don't worry about how it sounds right now—just write something."

Easier said than done.

"You can fix it up later."

Before he finishes, the pen is scratching across the paper and the words began to flow.

3:40 pm. The store's quiet. I wait for a few minutes, to see if any customers come in. No one does. I slip into Chad's office and dial home.

After a few rings, Mom answers. " _Yá'át'ééh_?"

"Hi," I say.

"Hok'ee? How are you? Where are you?"

I can hear her sobbing. I take a deep breath. "I'm okay, Mom." God, I miss the sound of her voice. I didn't realize how much until now.

"When will you be home?"

"I don't know, Ma. I'm not Dad's favorite person right now." I tap my fist against the desk, wanting to punch something. Ash, Dad, anyone that crosses my path.

"I don't care," she says. "Please. I'll meet you anywhere, my son."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be."

I clamp my eyes shut. I do.

"Where are you staying?"

I take another deep breath and hold it for a beat, steeling myself. "I have to go. Love you." I slam the phone down and crumble into Chad's swivel chair.

Cassie

At 3:50, Eloise sidles up to me. "You look beat. Why don't you take your break?"

"I'm fine," I say.

"Go on. It's an order."

"Okay." I raise my hands in defeat. "I'm going." I grab an apple-cinnamon muffin from the display case and trudge into the storeroom. I've thought up many ways to reunite Seb with his mom, but only one seems doable—call her. Get her to meet us somewhere.

I suck in a deep breath, and then dial the number I got from the phonebook.

After three rings, someone answers. There are four seconds of terrifying silence. Then, a soft, female voice says, " _Yá'át'ééh_?"

"Johona?" I say a silent prayer, thankful that her husband didn't answer.

"Yes?"

"I'm a friend of Seb's." I want to say _girlfriend,_ but I don't want to shock her too much. I don't know how much or little she knows.

She's silent for another moment. Her breathing is heavy, as if her heart is pounding in her chest. "Cassie?" she whispers.

"Yes."

"Call back in an hour."

Got it. Her husband is home. "Oka—"

_Beep, beep, beep._ She'd hung up.

I replace my cell in my apron's pocket and drag myself onto the counter. Have I done the right thing?

The hour passes slowly. Customers come and go. I deliver orders, top up coffees and sodas, and refill ketchup bottles. Forty-three minutes after the call, the pack—minus Seb, of course—enter. I don't recognize two. Looks like they do have new members. Oh, joy.

Ash winks at me and sends me a finger wave. "Hi, gorgeous!"

Creep.

Kat's there, seated between the hazel-eyed one—Tas—and Ash. He looks as if he doesn't want to be here and is trying to hide that fact, overcompensating with a scowl.

"Do you know those guys?" El says.

I resist the urge to turn my back on them. "You could say that."

"They giving you trouble?"

A sigh slips from my throat. "Nothing I can't handle."

"If you say so."

Tas waves me over. "Waitress!"

Shit. What do I do? Act normal? Throw a drink in one of their faces? Laugh maniacally so they think _I'm_ the crazy one and they leave me alone? I grab my pad and pencil, walking over. "Yes?"

"We'd like to hear the specials," Tas says.

"Bite me."

Ash smiles humorlessly. "I'd like to, sweetheart, very much so. But another time, another place."

Is that a threat?

My eyes catch the clock. A minute until I have to make that call. "Look, the kitchen's about to close. The best I can do is throw you some leftover sandwiches."

"That's the best you can do?" Ash lifts an eyebrow, a lopsided smile on his lips.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, that'll have to do. For now."

Why don't you turn around so I can kick you up the a—

"Cass?" Eloise says.

"Yeah?"

"It's nearly closing time. Can you balance the till?"

I skip over to her. "Uh, I've just gotta make a phone call first."

"Okay. Must be important."

"It is." I dare a look over my shoulder at the pack. "Can you get them their sandwiches?"

Kat snags my gaze, and then looks away, ashamed to have to still be around them.

"Fine, but you owe me." She smiles, and I know she doesn't mean it.

I pull out my cell and hit redial.

"Cassie?" Seb's mom says.

"Yes, it's me," I say.

"How is he?"

"Seb's fine. He's making the best of his life. Eating lots."

She chuckles. "Hasn't changed, I see. Where is he living?"

I pause, not knowing if he'd want me to say. "Are you free Saturday afternoon? Could you meet us at the park?"

"Yes, anything."

A part of me knew she'd go anywhere for her son. But it was comforting to hear her acknowledge it, for me to know she's not cold-hearted like the rest of his so-called _family_. "Three pm?"

"Yes, I'll be there. _Ahéhee'_ —thank you."

"He misses you a lot."

"Yes?"

I hear her sniffle.

"I miss him as well," she says.

El calls me.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go," I say. "Take care."

"You also."

I hang up and return to the shop. "Sorry, I'll balance the till now."

"First, Joe wants you to get rid of them." She jerks her chin towards the pack. "He says they're friends of your boyfriend."

And, therefore, the responsibility falls on me. Terrific. " _Friends_ is a vast overstatement."

"Well, get rid of them."

I drag my feet over to them, folding my arms across my chest. "It's time to go. We're closing."

"Guess we'd better go, boys," Tas says.

The group stands and reluctantly heads for the door.

"See you 'round," Ash says, unsmiling and serious—like threatening to come back and beat me to death.

_Don't look scared_. Seb is probably already outside, waiting to escort me home.

Kat throws me an apologetic look over his shoulder as he leaves after them, and I get it; he wants to leave them but can't. He's the only one on our side who can slip seamlessly into both groups.

As soon as they're out, I lock the door and flip the sign to closed. I exhale and turn to see Eloise watching me.

"That one with the red eyes, he's..."

"A sadistic bastard?"

"A little." She swings her bag onto her shoulder. "I'm meeting Chad downtown. I've taken care of everything, so let's just leave before the boss man catches us giving ourselves a three-minute early mark." She winks and links an arm in mine.

I tear off my apron, grab my bag, and she pushes open the back door, leading us into the matchbox-sized employee parking lot.

Seb is leaning on the hood of my car. He reads something in my expression—angst?—and pushes off from the vehicle. "Tell me what happened." There's no guessing with Seb, it's as if he already knows.

We get in my car, and I fill him in. He's silent when I finish, his head tilted back against the headrest, arms folded.

"Say something." I touch his arm.

"I don't like it."

"Neither do I." But it seems as if I have to put up with it for now.

"I don't want you to be alone, not for a second."

The biggest gap in being babysat is after school, when Dad's at work and I'm home alone. "I guess I can always go to Miley's and do homework."

He reaches for my hand. "Or the Adler's."

"True."

He's silent for another moment, and then closes his eyes. "I spoke to Mom today."

My eyebrows inch up my forehead. "Oh?" Before or after I did?

"Yeah."

I trace the lines on his fingers. "I, uh, spoke to her, too."

His lashes flutter open. "You _what_?"

"Are you mad?"

"What did you talk about?"

"You. Then I asked her to meet us on Saturday, after Evie's—y'know." It feels too difficult to say _funeral_ out loud at the moment. "So, are you mad?"

"No." He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers.

"I made sure your dad wasn't there."

He nods. "If he finds out—if the elders catch a whiff of this—there'll be hell to pay."

We're both risking everything for the ones we love, all because of a stupid set of rules and genetics.

After a minute, I say, "I'd better get home or Dad will be hunting you."

Seb chuckles. "Not anymore."

Not wanting to take my chances, I buckle my seatbelt and head for home.

_Home_ is a word that should invoke happiness and security. In me, it doesn't, not anymore. I no longer feel safe anywhere. Which I surmise is what Ash has been aiming for. Threatening to blow up my school, burn my house down, hanging around the café.

I park behind Dad's SUV. "Can you stay?"

"You'll have to take that up with your father. I've already used up my one night this week."

"Hm."

He tucks me under his arm as we march up the steps. The charred front door has been replaced with a new one. My key won't work. I tap a knuckle on the wood.

A second later, it opens and Dad says, "Come in! Like the new door?"

It's identical to our old one, sans the blackened stains. "Yep." I dump my bag in the hall. "Can Seb stay?"

Dad's eyes roam over my features, scanning the tension. "Okay. But don't expect I'll bend the rules every week."

Can he tell it's been a shit day? _Am I that much of an open book?_

"I don't, sir." Seb settles onto the couch, pulling me down next to him.

"I'll fix us all some dinner. I don't know about you kids, but I'm starved." Dad wanders into the kitchen.

I press my lips to Seb's for a long moment.

Dad's voice drifts in, teasing. "Break it up."

I giggle. How did he know?

"I was your age once," he says.

Seb touches his lips to my forehead, and then nose. I have homework to do, but I'm too content and tired to move.

So," Seb says. "What'd ya think of the movie?"

We dart across the traffic-clogged street and into a quieter one.

"Hm, not enough gore in it." I swing our hands between us.

"Is that so?" He laughs, pressing me against the side panel of his car.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, how come you look a little green?" Smirking, he raises an eyebrow in question.

I brush my fingers over his cheek. "So do you."

He hangs his head. "Arms were being ripped off, flying everywhere. Blood spurted from arteries. It was repulsive." He looks at me through his long lashes. "I'd gladly see any romance movie you want after that."

Snickering, I pull his face closer to mine. "You would?"

He leans in to kiss me.

I pull back half an inch, teasing. "Right now?"

"You have a curfew of ten o'clock remember?" He lifts his wrist to my level. "And oh, look, it's nine-fifty."

"I can call Dad, tell him I'm having such a fun time, and he'll let me stay out."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yeah, after the week I've had, he'll—"

"Hey, there they are!" someone says from further down the street.

Six shadows lope towards us.

My spine tingles in alarm. The little voice inside my brain screams, _Ambush! Ambush! They're here to dismember me like the girl on the screen!_

Seb squeezes my hand and shoves me behind him, wedging me between the car and his body. I risk a peek around him. The tallest shadow hovers under a streetlight for a moment as they near. The blood-red eyes wink at me. A low growl shakes in Seb's chest. They're at the car now, only a few steps away.

Seb's form vibrates, like a leaf in the wind. He shoves me further away. But my legs are locked and the fear of abandoning him ricochets through me.

His head snaps over his shoulder to glare at me. " _Get in the car_." He presses something warm into my palm—the keys.

_He can't be serious_. Can I leave him here to die?

A hand snakes around Seb, and Tas seizes a fistful of my shirt. I'm jerked violently to the left.

"Let her go," Seb snarls, his arms constricting around my waist, straining to keep me in place.

"Or what?" Tas says. "We don't owe you anything, traitor."

"She's not a part of this."

"She's every part of this." A vicious smile.

I wince as Tas' grip on my forearm reaches bone-crushing strength.

"Let. Her. _Go_." Seb shoves him.

Tas stumbles backwards, releasing me. One moment, I'm rubbing my arm as Seb opens the passenger door, hurrying me inside. The next, four of them are on us. Seb shuts the door, trapping me inside his SUV.

They jostle him, tearing at his clothes and skin.

I've got to do something. But what?

While they're occupied, I slide across to the driver's side and punch the lock button. All the doors snap, locked. Safe. I grab my cell phone and scroll through its phonebook. Who to call?

A fist shatters the window's tempered glass, snatches my cell, and pitches it into the on-coming traffic. It reaches back in for me. I scuttle back and kick at the arm. It grabs my shoe, yanking me forwards. My scream pierces the night. There's a keening, a screech, and then a gray muzzle appears. Its canines latch on to the arm, drawing blood, forcing it to release my foot.

I climb over, into the back, trying not to look too closely at any of them.

Seb's cell. He left it here, but where? Do I risk venturing to check?

A howl scrapes through the broken window. I glance out. Three of them are on him, Wolf-Seb fighting to get up.

_Seb, please don't die._ I scramble for his cell. It's tucked in the console. They're distracted—I drop it into my pocket, not wanting another battle that I would surely lose this time. I slink back to my seat, check to see if anyone is watching. No. I find Kat's number and wait.

Two rings. Three, four.

Finally, he picks up. "Yo?"

"It's Cass. I don't have time to explain. Get your ass down to Apple Way. Seb's in trouble." I hang up and stuff the handset under my leg.

A minute later, Kat charges down the asphalt. He sees Seb, under four of them now, and jumps—shifting midair, landing as a midnight puma.

And I realize that I've selfishly put him at risk to save my boyfriend. _Stupid._

He tears into one of them as they rip into Seb. I turn away, queasy.

A sickening thought crashes through my mind. _Where's Ash and the other newbie?_ Watching from somewhere? This twists my stomach. I wish I wasn't a weakling. Human.

_Tap tap tap tap_. I freeze, feeling eyes searing into the back of my neck. _Tap tap tap tap._ I slowly swivel in the direction of the noise. A raven rapping its beak against the rear window. Irises as black as its soul. It cranes its slick, feathery head—eyes curious and scrutinizing me. _Tap tap tap_. The bird's features shift—beak to nose, wings to arms, claws to legs, feathers to inky, black hair and light caramel skin. He crouches on the trunk.

The newbie. His eyes seem kind and gentle, akin to Seb's. Something inside me says I can trust him.

It could be a lie. A trick.

His eyes swerve from me, to the monsters, and then back.

I take a chance, one that could end me if I'm wrong—could mean the difference between saving Seb and getting him killed. Pressing a hand to the laminated glass, I pour everything I have into my words. " _Save him_."

There's a moment of hesitation for both of us. Then he presses his hand to mine. He leaps off the car and tears through them. I notice blood and fur drizzling across the pavement. With Kat and the raven's aid, Wolf-Seb shakes them off. They scatter, like birds stirred in the bushes. It's now a ratio of three to five, and all of them are missing chunks of skin.

Raven glances at me, and then leaps into the air, flying into the night.

" _Thank you_ ," I mouth, a beat too late.

A maniacal laugh slices through the air. Ash is watching, somewhere. And I hope he enjoyed the show. Because the next time I meet him, I'll give him a piece of my mind and kick him where it hurts.

Wolf-Seb pads over, tufts of fur missing, and stares in at me, eyes concerned and darting over me. His muzzle is smeared with blood. I want to reach out and touch him, run my fingers through his fur like I did weeks ago in my front yard, tell him I'm okay, everything will be okay. But I can't.

He pivots and charges towards the trees. Puma-Kat sprints after him. I imagine him yelling, "Wait up!" as I watch them meld into the forest.

I pray that we make it through; I pray that they're safe.

The sun stings my eyes, burning my face. I roll over. Then memories of the previous night shatter my sleepy brain.

How did I get home? Did I drive?

Seb's car! It's still in the driveway. I slither out of bed and pad over to the window. A slip of yellowing paper is taped to the pane.

He's okay.

— Kat.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Seb's alive. I feel my tense muscles relax. He's alive—I'm alive. I just want to forget last night, but I know it will never leave me. Our perfect date, tainted by disaster. I pinch my eyes shut and try to hold onto the sensation of his hand in mine, lips skimming across mine. I won't let them be erased. Before I leave the window, I stretch to see the driveway. The car's gone. Mysterious.

I take one final look at Eve's eulogy—my words leaving a scorching trail through my heart—and set it on top of my handbag.

In the kitchen, I scrounge for a piece of bread and pop it in the toaster. As I wait, I make some coffee.

"Hey, kid." Dad shuffles into the kitchen. "You were pretty rattled last night when you got home." He sits at the table. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

I bet he's wondering whether it's got something to do with the funeral today. The toast jumps up, making me twitch. "We were, um, ambushed." I slap on butter. "After the movie." I decide against adding jam, not sure I can stomach much more.

"Oh. Is Seb all right?"

I hesitate telling him about the raven boy. He saved my boyfriend—does that make him good? "Yeah. I called Kat to help."

"Must've been horrifying."

You can say that.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know. It was scary, and one of them hurt my wrist."

Holding out a hand for my arm, he says, "Let me see."

I sigh, but do as he asks. "You should learn how to turn _Doctor Spencer_ off. I'm not one of your patients."

After a quick look at the hand-shaped bruise, he lets go of my arm. "The bruise is already turning green; it should go away soon."

I tear off a bite of toast with my teeth and chew, wondering if Seb really is okay.

Interrupting my thoughts, Dad says, "Word on the street is, Ash is the new alpha."

I stifle a giggle as I sit across from him. Since when does Dad say things like _Word on the street_? "Yep. And there're two new ones."

This seizes his interest. "Oh? Can you tell me anything about them?"

I bite my tongue. Shouldn't have said that. I take a moment to chew another mouthful. "One saved Seb."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Really?"

"I don't know anything about the other one."

He nods, pensive. "Wow. I'll have to see what I can find out about them."

I want to say, _Don't hurt the raven boy!_ However, I don't know, myself, if we can fully trust him. He is, after all, hanging out with the enemy.

"Have you heard from him?"

I pause midchew. "From who?"

"Seb."

I shake my head. "But Kat left me a note this morning."

Dad smiles. "I'd love to meet this 'Kat'. He sounds like a character, from what you and Seb tell me."

I nod. "He's like a playful puppy—or kitten, rather."

Lizzy turns and hisses at me.

"I don't think she likes you comparing her to those abominations," he says.

" _Dad_."

"Seb and Kat being the exception."

"Yes, well, you're just gonna have to get used to it," I say to her.

She prances out of the room, tail down.

Dad's smile is forced, glum. "It's been a long time since there were other people in this home."

The house grows quiet. I get up and rinse my plate, stow it in the dish rack. Will Seb be back in time? I don't know if I can survive the day without him. And how will I explain to his mother why he didn't come with me to meet her?

But at 9:15, my hopes come true.

Like old times, Seb appears at my bedroom window. He's trying to make me smile. And I do, but tears quickly follow. My feet scrape across the floorboards, towards him. I open the window—Dad had taken the nails out last week.

"Would your dad mind if I came in?"

I try to recall what I said when he asked me that before. "What he doesn't know..."

He climbs in. "Well, he does know. I rang and told him I'll be climbing through your window." He drags me into a tight embrace.

"Sneaky." I constrict my arms around his waist.

"How're you doin'?" His gaze drops to my lips.

"Better than I thought." I bury my face in his black, button-down shirt. "But it might be a different story when I see everyone else upset." Breathing in his scent, I let the comforting, earthy aroma wash over me as he rubs gentle circles into my back. "Are _you_ okay?" I feel his chest shake with laughter.

He releases me and extends his arms, displaying his already-silver scars. "Yes, I'm fine, Cass."

Dad calls up the stairs, "Are you dressed?"

I stare down at my polka dot pajamas. "Yes."

" _Liar_ ," Seb mouths, his lips curling upwards.

"Miley will be here soon," Dad says.

"I'm coming!" I slink over to my closet, pulling out my black dress. "Why are funerals so drab?"

"Um. 'Cuz someone died?"

"I get that, but I've always thought we should be celebrating their life, not mourning the loss. Eve would want a massive party."

"And you? What would you want?" His arms curl around me again.

"I guess immortality is too much to ask for." I think for a moment. "A suitcase full of books to read on the journey to wherever I'm going?" Heaven, hell—what's the difference anymore?

He chuckles and kisses my forehead.

I melt into him. I can never get enough of this. I used to be the girl who didn't need a big, strong man to love her. But that Cassie was wrong. "I'll need you to help me with the zipper," I say as I tug the curtains closed.

He spins away.

I peel off my pajamas. Chucking the hanger onto my bed, I slip into the dress. "Okay."

He turns back, his eyes assessing me. "You look good. Too bad it's under these circumstances."

"Thanks." I pivot on the ball of my foot, my back facing him, and gather my hair out of his way.

His fingers pinch the sides of the zipper together as he jerks up the tab. Then they brush along my shoulders, lingering on the back of my neck. My skin tingles as he presses his lips there.

"You're ready."

"My hair." I wheeze a sigh. "Can you braid it?" I look at him through the mirror on my dresser and he nods.

Seb

It seems the whole town has showed up for Eve. When Cassie sees this, her eyes widen and a sob catches in her throat. I reach for her hand. Xavier takes Miley's. Cass links her arm with Whitney's and catches my eye.

She doesn't have to worry; I'm not jealous. I'm touched. Her compassion is boundless, and not just today.

As we enter the church, two ladies hover by the door with serving trays. On one, mini bagels with what looks like strawberry jam. The other, chocolate chip cookies.

Cass whispers in my ear, "They were Eve's favorites." She takes a cookie and tucks it into her purse for later.

We find a pew with enough space for all five of us, and Kat squeezes in beside me.

"Why're you here?" I say to him. "You didn't even know the girl."

He shrugs. "I like to support my friends."

"Fair enough."

Chatter settles down as the priest takes his place. I tuck my girlfriend under my arm, and she imprisons Whitney's fingers in her hand. I see Miley on his other side do the same.

The priest reads from the scriptures, "'I am the resurrection and life,' saith the Lord; 'he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'" He goes on to read Psalm 23, and then looks up at the mourning crowd. "Too soon, Evelyn Anne was taken from us," the priest says. "Too soon, her family lost an angel. Known as Eve to everyone, and Evie to her best girlfriends, Miley and Cassandra—"

A shiver rolls through Cass at the mention of her name. She always hates it when people call her _Cassandra_.

"—she was the incomparable daughter of Hazel and Bruce, the loving sister of Riley, and an incredible friend to all."

Cass' hand balls on her thigh, trying hard to keep a brave face. I pry her fingers open and wrap them around my hand. Even if she squeezes so hard that she breaks my bones, they'll be healed in a matter of days. Hers, not so much.

I watch her as the priest talks about Eve's stint as a fashion model before working at Rocky Roads, her straight As in her classes, and her patience with her brother Riley, who battles with Asperger's. As each word sinks in, Cass loses a bit of her calm façade, until her name is called.

"Cassandra Spencer," the priest says, "has written a passage on behalf of herself, Miley Sparks, Marcus Wyatt, Whitney Jarvis, and Victoria Barnett."

Cass trembles, and then looks at me. "Come with me?"

I nod and guide her towards the front.

She slides a creased sheet of paper from her purse, spreads it out on the lectern, and gazes at people before her. She clears her throat, tries to make sense of the words in front of her. "Evie was the best friend a girl could ever have." She swipes away a tear. "She was always kind, gracious. Always happy to hang out, whether it was at home or at the cinemas." Her fingers dig into the wooden stand. She stares at the paper. Then she sucks in a deep breath and, looking at Eve's parents, she deviates from what was prepared. "I hate the term _was_. It implies that something is in the past, that it doesn't exist anymore." She pauses. "Well, I can't think of Eve that way. She may be gone, but she still exists—in me, in all of us." She detaches a hand from the lectern and presses it to her heart. "She exists. In our thoughts. In our hearts." A sob escapes her throat. "In our memories. We keep her alive." She clamps her eyes shut, tears now pouring out. "Hazel, Bruce, Riley." She blinks to clear her vision. "On behalf of Miley, Whitney, Xavier, Tori, Marcus, and myself, we'd like to thank you. For always being so welcoming. And for raising such a beautiful daughter." She bunches up the eulogy, "Thank you," and collapses into my waiting arms.

I steer her outside, into the fresh air, away from everyone, waiting for her to calm. I sit on a bench and haul her into my lap. "You did great, Cass. It was beautiful."

She sniffles. "Thanks. I went a little off road, didn't I? Probably made a fool of myself."

"Just a little detour. But I thought that was the best part. And since when do you care what others think of you?"

"I don't." A tepid breeze ruffles her golden locks.

I smooth back her fringe. "You wanna go?"

She thinks for a moment, her brow wrinkling. "I don't think I can bear hearing 'earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust' after what I just said about Eve living on."

"Lunch?" I press a kiss to her cheek.

She's quiet again. "Somewhere away from here—but close enough for us to return for your mom in time." Her lips skim over mine. "Let's just drive."

She sits on the third bench from the entrance, clutching her bag in her lap, eyes darting over every person who passes. I recognize her because she has Seb's nose and his oval face. Her eyes are kind, and her hair is down to her waist. She is everything I pictured his mother to be.

When she sees him, her face brightens, a grin spreading across her features. She runs to him. "My boy, my son!" She slams into him, curling her arms around his shoulders.

He releases my hand to steady her. "Mom." He tucks her head under his chin as he does to me sometimes.

I watch the reunited mother and son, pleased that it finally happened. Because there are some children that cannot be reunited with their parent. Me, for example. I have Dad and that is perfectly fine, but sometimes, _sometimes,_ I just need a mother.

She turns to me, remembering I'm there.

"Mom, this is Cassie," Seb says. " _Díí shich'áayaa íí'áhí át'é!_ "

Meaning—this is my girlfriend.

Her irises burn with sorrow for a moment, for missing out on things she's entitled to as a mother, but then shift back to joy. "Honored to meet you."

"Nice to finally meet you, too," I say. "I heard a lot about you."

She smiles and hugs me.

"This's the one I risked everything for." Seb's fingers brush over my palm, knotting in mine.

"Sit?" She reaches for my other hand and leads us over to the bench. "How are you both? Good?"

For once, I don't know what to say.

But Seb does. "Cassie's best friend was killed—the one that was on the news."

"Oh." She throws an arm over my shoulders. "Poor dear."

"And I'm living with Cass' godparents."

I manage a light giggle.

He pokes my side. "She thinks it's funny because I had no idea that they were before I moved in."

" _Coincidental_ ," I say. "But they're really good people. They look after him well." I roll my eyes. "And feed him."

She laughs.

He shuffles his feet. "What? I like eating."

"For breakfast the other morning, he made my dad and me the pancakes and syrup you taught him."

Her eyes widen, and then she looks away from us. "I missed him very much." She turns to me. "Thank you for looking after him, making him happy. Your momma must be proud of you."

"Mom." Seb shakes his head, a warning.

"Hm?" Her gaze swerves between us. "What did I say?"

I stare at my fingers twisted with his. "My mom passed away a long time ago. Cancer." Why should I have to keep bearing this cross? I swallow hard and break away from them, wanting a moment of solace. When I turn back, they're both waiting, patient, concerned. "Sorry."

"She's been through a lot today," he says.

She nods, as if she bears my pain too. God, they are so alike! I smile and wedge myself between them again. I love them both.

Something flashes across his features, and a moment later, it's gone. "Alyssa said the pack's been hanging around?"

She bobs her head once. "Trying to scare your father and me, I think. The elders are on our back, too, pressuring your father to get you back."

We stay until the sun begins to set, agreeing to meet again soon, and then Seb takes me home. Dad's permitted him to stay over again, even allows him to set up a camping mattress beside my bed. I figure he feels sorry for me having to endure not only a funeral, but also that of my best friend's. I think Seb and I deserve a little leeway, to be trusted. It's not as if we're going any further with things while Dad is in the other room. He should know that, at least.

Uncle Scott slaps me on the back. "You'll be alright, Cass," he says. "Things will get better." He's staying the night, too. Some company for Dad.

After a shower, I curl up next to Seb. He strokes my damp hair. Words are not needed, and I'm glad. I've expended today's quota. I just want to try to sleep, to dream, to forget. Our lips meet and I drag myself closer, wanting not an inch between us. His hand dips under my shirt, tasting the skin on my lower back, stroking light arcs across it. My fingers weave into his hair. I breathe in his earthy scent, of spearmint and sage, as his lips trail over my cheek and down my neck. Lower, lower.

_Tap tap tap_.

The raven.

I untangle myself from Seb, annoyed, and glare at the window. Kat waves at us.

Seb groans and plods over, hefting up the window. "What?"

"I swear," Kat says. "Didn't see nothin'."

I cross the room, narrowing my eyes at him. "The fact that you felt you had to say something means you did."

"Pervert." Seb punches his arm. "Whatcha want?"

"I wanna hunt. Want you to come with."

" _Now_? Can't it wait?"

I crawl back into bed. "Go."

"You sure?" he says.

I nod. "Go on."

His lips skim across my forehead.

"Hurry back," I say, stifling a yawn.

Seb smirks and slips onto my balcony.

I should get up and lock the window—he would want me to—but slumber weighs heavy on me. After two minutes, I'm nearly dragged under. Then I see a figure drop onto the redwood.

Seb's back! I sit up, waiting for him to come in. Another thirty seconds pass before he slithers in.

Not Seb. Ash.

Do I run? Scream? Maybe Seb's still outside and he'll hear me. Or Dad and Scott will.

But no, there isn't an escape when Ash has his eyes set on you.

"Hello again," he says, lips curled into a sullen smile.

"Seb'll be back in a minute."

He shakes his head. "No, he won't."

_Ambush! Ambush!_ the little voice inside screams again.

I should've locked the damn window.

"Cassie." He sits on the edge of the mattress, too close for comfort. "You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "You corrupted our dear Sebby." He picks up my arm, examining the four almost invisible scars from his nails.

"And now I must pay?" I joke, trying to twist my arm free.

His eyes float to mine. Nails pierce my skin. Blood bubbles up immediately. I whimper and bite down on my lip to squelch further cries.

"Hush. We don't want to alert dear daddy now, do we?"

I shake my head, eyes never leaving his.

"Good girl." He drags his nails over the scars, creating fresh wounds. Over my wrists.

They'll think I committed suicide. But Seb will know the truth. And he'll rip Ash to shreds. Still, this comforts me little. He lifts a finger to his mouth, tasting my blood.

My stomach churns. "You're disgusting," I spit.

He laughs and releases my arm. "Bad girls deserve to be punished." His fingers turn to claws—akin to a bear's.

_Seb, where're you?_ I kick out, trying to get away—it's no use.

Ash strikes, talon shredding my pajama top, slicing my flesh. I open my mouth to scream, a reflex, and he clamps a hand over my mouth.

He touches a finger to his lips. "Shh." The claw rakes over my thigh. "Wanna see what I did to the other girl, your friend?" He peels a slice of my skin off and drops it into his mouth.

I tremble with terror, my wounds stinging, crimson leaking onto my butterfly sheets like a crime scene. There's a heat creeping through my body, fixing me in place. And there's not a thing I can do. I'm paralyzed. I'm going to die. Like Eve.

He peels off more skin. I'm his after-dinner snack. Or maybe the appetizer. More, more.

Tears crash down my cheeks—I can't stop them. "Please," I whisper through his hand.

"Hush, Cass." He smiles again. "No need to fear." His hand drops from my mouth, brushing my hair back.

I turn my head away from his touch, and his smile blooms.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He seems to love hearing the sound of his voice, maybe I can get him talking, get him to slip up. He's arrogant enough to think he can get away with this.

"I've been doing a little research." Another strip of my skin. "You see, we are born like this. We have no choice. It's our nature to kill, taunt. But humans can also be turned. I only have to bite you."

"Turned?" It sinks in. "You're not going to kill me." I snicker. "You're a dumbass. You really shouldn't have said that." I suck in a deep breath, and I scream. I scream because my human life depends on it.

He realizes, a beat too late, that I outsmarted him. His movements are quick, precise—he snatches my arm, sinking his teeth into my wrist.

I scream again, this time from the pain as it radiates past my elbow. A crackling white heat. It bubbles up my arm and roars in my ears.

My bedroom door cracks against the adjacent wall. Uncle Scott bursts in, yielding the silver knife. If only he were on duty, he could've shot the bastard.

My grip on this world is slipping, my vision blurring, ears humming. I can just make out Uncle Scott. Ash slipping out of the window. And the angels singing the hymns of Heaven.

My lips are dry, and the heat, the venom, is slithering up my neck. Soon, I won't be able to move my lips. I try to swallow. "Seb."

Uncle Scott drops to his knees beside me. "Oh God, Cass." He rips the top sheet from the bed and tears it into strips, tourniquets.

"Seb." My voice is barely a whisper now.

"Where is he?"

"They took him. He..." My vision blackens, and the pain disappears. _Seb_. Wherever he is, I hope he knows I love him.

The dark engulfs me.

Two days after that night, I'm visiting her at the hospital when she says, "Seb, take me outside?"

And because I'm wracked with guilt, I'll do anything for her. I acquire a wheelchair and roll her out into the little courtyard. She winces as we go over a bump in the bricks.

"Sorry," I say, flinching with her.

"Stop it," she growls. "There's nothing you could've done."

Positioning her next to a table, I sit in the chair adjacent. I can think of a hundred things I could've done to save her from this.

She grabs my chin. "I know what you're thinking. _Please_ , don't. Don't torture yourself."

Kat had no choice; he had no idea Ash was coming for Cassie. Otherwise, he wouldn't have lured me out. He was lied to; it wasn't his fault. His father was the one who suggested he go hunting, and Kat played right into their hands by inviting me along.

Cass lowers her hand and groans. "Dad's on the rampage."

_I am, too_. And I will not stop until the red-eyed fiend is dead. "Can I get you a drink?"

A flight of sparrows catches her eye. She smiles as she watches them fly, dive, and weave about each other. "No, thanks."

"Eat?"

"I have been having an unshakeable craving for something sugary."

I should've known. She'd blow through my stash whenever she visited the Adler's.

"But just sit with me for a minute."

"Okay." I wait. I wait for her to ask the question that has been on my mind the last two days. It must be on hers, too.

"Did you tell Miles that I need another book?"

But that's not it. "Yes, she's dropping by this afternoon with a stack of best sellers."

"Cool." She smiles again, and then looks at me. "Guess what?"

"The aliens are coming to suck out your clever brain?"

"Nope. Two more guesses."

"Teddy bears across the nation are forming an army?"

She giggles, clutching her stomach. "Ow. No."

"Hm." I lean closer, whisper in her ear, "I love you?"

Her face drops. She shakes her head. "Jess is bringing cupcakes. Sorry."

I don't believe her.

It only takes a second for her acting to fizzle out. "Fine. I love you, okay?"

I grin, take her face into my hands, and kiss her. Gentle, because she's even more breakable at the moment. Then I press my lips to her forehead and nose—I know that makes her giggle. "For the record, I knew the second I saw you that I was in love with you. And that will never change."

She holds a hand over mine. "The wolf and the damaged little girl. What a couple we make."

"Good title for a book."

"Mm." She brings my hand down to her lap, thoughtful.

I can tell she's about to ask the question that I've feared—that's been haunting me. And I won't hold back, because she needs to hear the answer and so do I.

"Seb, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She turns over my hand, her eyes tracing the days-old scars. "What happens when a human is bitten?"

"They become a monster."

THE END

I'd firstly like to thank the girls who, while only having known me a mere few months, have put up with my craziness and affinity for caffeine and cupcakes. Sarah, Kristy and Stormy—you three rock, and I owe you a lifetime of cupcakes!

Secondly, thanks to one of my BFFs, Troy, for giving me the push I needed to start publishing and to send this book out to the world. You may not think your simple words of "then go for it" meant much at the time, but it gave me the courage I needed. Sometimes I just need a little push to get me going, and you're always there to nudge me along.

An endless amount of gratitude to Mum—for reading the raw, very first version of The Hunted and telling me, "It's good"; and to my other BFF, Kiera—for you unwavering 16 years of support.

A special thanks to Stormy (again) for fangirling over Sebby and making me feel like a rock star. Watch out Seb-lovers, she's already staked her claim! ;-)

To all at Clean Teen Publishing: thank you for believing in my story! I'm truly grateful I stumbled upon your company through another of your author's books, and am excited to be a part of your team. Thanks to Rebecca Gober, Marya Heiman, Courtney Nuckels, Dyan Brown for all that you've done.

And finally, I should probably thank my uncle Scott and aunt Robyn for graciously lending me their names to be used in this story. (They aren't actually Hunters, I don't think ...)

C.J. Hart is a full-time writer who lives in Sydney, Australia, with a crazy pooch named Abbey and a boisterous, somersaulting rescue budgie (parakeet) named Kaleb. Her days are spent living in her fictional worlds and consuming way too much caffeine. She has an (unhealthy?) obsession with all things cupcake- and coffee-related plus Kerouac and YA dystopia/fantasy books. C.J. can often be found surrounded by books, marathoning crime shows and munching on vegan goodies, on Twitter, Pinterest, or dancing in a rainstorm.

C.J hopes to one day visit Rio and is currently learning Brazilian Portuguese.

C.J Hart is the pen name of Renée Shearer, who also writes adult fiction as Renée Swann.

Social media links:

Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCJHart>

Twitter: <https://www.twitter.com/authorcjhart>

Goodreads: <https://www.goodreads.com/CJHart>

Instagram: www.instagram.com/reneeshearer

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/reneeshearer87

Website: www.cj-hart.com

Stay tuned to hear about the upcoming release of book #2 in The Abandoned Series!

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If you enjoyed The Hunted, check out another shifter series— Never Forgotten by Kelly Risser. The first book is free! Read the first chapter here.

10 years earlier

M _eara, where are you?_

I started to fall asleep when I heard Daddy's voice. At least, he told me he was my daddy. I'd never met him.

"Daddy?" I called in the dark. My throat felt funny, like when Mommy made me gargle with salt water when I had a cold. I held back a sneeze; a strange smell tickled my nose.

Meara, honey. I'm looking for you. Where are you?

He sounded far away. Why was Daddy sad? My stomach tightened, and my eyes welled with tears. "Where are you, Daddy?"

Silence. The pain vanished, quick as it came. He was gone. I jumped out of bed and ran to my mom's room.

"Daddy's so sad!"

I flung myself onto her bed and crawled up until I could wrap my arms around her. Burying my face in her neck, I breathed in the gardenia perfume she always wore. "He wants to see us, Mommy, but he can't find us," I mumbled against her skin.

My mom sat up, wrapping her arm around me. She whispered in my ear and stroked my hair. "It's okay, Meara. You just had a bad dream."

"I wasn't asleep." I raised my head and dared her to challenge me. She didn't say anything, but she looked funny. Was Mommy scared? My lip quivered. "Mommy, why isn't Daddy with us?"

"Oh, pumpkin." Mom sighed and leaned back against the headboard, her arm tight around me. "It's complicated. I love your father, and he loves us, but it just didn't work out. He can't be with us."

"Why not?" I searched her face, but she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"You won't understand, sweetie. I'll tell you when you're older."

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;

for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter another.

\- Anatole France

Present Day

"Meara, come visit the ranch. I'm sure Uncle Jake won't mind."

It was the second to last day of my junior year. I sat on the low, brick wall in front of Cedarburg High with my best friend, Kim. We were waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up. I didn't care for Mark. I kept my opinion to myself, so I wouldn't hurt Kim's feelings.

Kim would be working at her uncle's farm in Minnesota this summer. I was staying here. We wouldn't see much of each other, unless I visited her.

"I don't know, Kim," I said. "I'm scheduled to work most of the summer at the shop." My mom's friend owned a sewing and fabric store in downtown Cedarburg, Wisconsin. Mom and I both worked there. Rebecca and Mom taught classes, made quilts, and ran the store. I maintained the website and worked the cash register.

"You could get away for a week or two," Kim persisted. "Just ask your mom, Meara. You'll never know unless you ask."

"All right, I'll ask!" I laughed at her scolding tone. I said it to appease her, but the idea was interesting. Why couldn't Mom and Rebecca run the shop for a week or two without me? They did it during the school year.

"I'm heading home." I stood up and walked down the sidewalk. Mark pulled up to the curb in his crappy, old truck. There was no point exchanging words with him, so I avoided eye contact.

"Don't forget to ask!" Kim yelled after me.

I turned back and grinned. "Why do you think I'm leaving now?"

My smile slipped when I noticed Mark eyeing a group of freshmen girls. He exchanged meaningful looks with a tall blond. I wouldn't doubt if they hooked up at a party or something. Kim trusted him too much. When was she going to wake up and see him for the jerk he was?

***

"Mom? Hey, Mom, I'm home!" I yelled into the house as I always did, tossing my backpack on the bench in the front hall. When she didn't respond, I figured she wasn't home yet. Sometimes she stayed late to help Rebecca restock or change the window display. Heading to the kitchen to get a snack, I found Mom standing at the sink.

"What's for dinner?" I asked and kissed her cheek. Not waiting for an answer, I took a carrot off the cutting board and opened the refrigerator. I was so preoccupied in my search for something tastier than a carrot, that it took me a few minutes to realize she hadn't responded. I turned and looked at her. "Mom?"

She didn't respond. She washed the same dish over and over, staring out the window. What was going on? My mom was many things, but a daydreamer wasn't one of them. I walked over, placed my arm around her waist, and gave her a small squeeze.

"Meara!" She jumped and squealed. "You startled me. I didn't even hear you come in."

"Are you okay?" I asked. Her eyes were shadowed and sunken with dark circles. Mom never looked this exhausted. She was the most optimistic, dynamic person I knew. She exuded so much energy that she tired me out.

"Fine." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I've been talking to you, and you didn't answer."

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I didn't hear you."

"Or notice when I kissed your cheek," I added.

She looked startled. "I guess I was lost in my own thoughts."

I touched her arm. "What's going on, Mom? You're not acting like yourself."

She smiled at me. My mom had a great smile, but this one worried rather than comforted me. It was fleeting, and it never reached her eyes. She touched my hair and motioned to a chair. "Honey, why don't you sit down? I need to talk to you about something."

Uh-oh. Whatever this was, it wasn't good. Mom sat first and waited until I was seated. She took my hands in hers, holding them tightly. It was painful. I resisted the urge to cry out or pull my hands away. She seemed to need the contact. We sat in silence while she clenched my hands, then she sighed and closed her eyes. Tears escaped in a trail down her cheeks.

"I saw Dr. Maxwell today." Her voice was so quiet that it took me a moment to understand what she said.

"Dr. Maxwell?" I was confused. Dr. Maxwell was my mom's oncologist; he treated her breast cancer five years ago. "Why didn't you tell me you had an appointment today?"

She sighed and touched my cheek, "I didn't want to scare you. I actually went in for some tests about a month ago, and he asked me to come back."

I couldn't believe that she kept this from me. "You're okay, right?"

When she tried to smile, her lips just quivered. She shook her head and began to cry in earnest. Big, wet tears slid down her pale cheeks. "Meara, he said the cancer is back. Only this time, he found it in my intestines, liver, and kidneys. This new growth is aggressive. 'Stage 4,' Dr. Maxwell called it."

I blinked back my own tears. While my mother, who was so strong, sobbed next to me, I thought about the first time she had cancer. I was in sixth grade, and the severity of her situation hadn't sunk into my twelve-year-old brain. Mom had been so strong, first going through a lumpectomy and then enduring months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. She lost her hair and got so thin. I remember feeling each individual rib in her back when I hugged her. It was agonizing to watch the person I loved most in the world wither away in front of me. Thankfully, the treatments took effect, and she slowly got better. The doctor gave her a clean bill of health a year after her original diagnosis.

"You can fight it, right?" I asked.

"Dr. Maxwell recommends slowing the growth with chemotherapy and radiation." Mom composed herself a bit, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I followed her movements, and my eyes tracked the long, black streak her mascara left on her hand. After I handed her a napkin, she dabbed at her eyes and added, "He says surgery is not an option. It's too far spread."

"What does that mean?" I was angry now. Why would the doctor advise her not to operate?

Mom took a deep breath, and I sensed how much it pained her to say these next words. "If they open me up, I might never heal. My prognosis is six months to two years, perhaps a little longer with intense treatment."

It wasn't what I expected to hear. The horror of it made me jump from my chair and bolt into her arms with gut-wrenching sobs. "Oh, Mom. I don't want to lose you."

"Oh, baby, and I don't want to leave you." Mom held me tight, and we clung to each other and cried. Her body shook as she sobbed. I held her as tight as I could. I hoped to give her comfort and take my own in return. When we couldn't cry anymore, we simply sat together, each of us lost in our own miserable thoughts. After a while, Mom straightened up and pulled away. She wiped her face with another napkin.

"We'll make the most of our time together, okay?" Mom touched my cheek. "And, I'll do everything I can to fight this."

"Okay." Grabbing a napkin, I wiped my nose.

Mom patted my knee and stood up. "I'm turning in for the night."

I glanced at the clock. "It's not even six, Mom."

"I know," she said. "But I'm exhausted."

She looked at the vegetables on the cutting board and smiled apologetically at me. "I didn't get too far with the dinner preparations. If you are hungry, there are leftovers in the fridge or lunchmeat."

"I'll be okay, Mom," I said. "Thanks." I stood and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Once she left for her room, I put the vegetables away. I took out a container of leftover chicken salad and a Diet Coke, going in the living room to flop down on my favorite recliner. Aiming the remote control at the TV, I mindlessly grazed through the channels. I couldn't remember what was on that night. I barely noticed what I ate. I was seventeen years old, and my mom was all I had. What was I going to do?

***

I smelled the smokiness of bacon before my eyes even opened. Most weekday mornings were all about cereal and yogurt. We reserved hot breakfast for the weekend. Mom must have woken up early. I dressed fast and went downstairs.

I yawned as I came into the kitchen. "You're cooking?"

Mom smiled. Although her eyes were puffy, she seemed better. "I figured that I owed you one after bailing on dinner last night." She set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. "Do you want some orange juice?"

"I can get it," I told her. "Go ahead and fix your own plate."

"All right. Pour me a glass, too, please."

We sat and ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. When we finished, Mom gave me a considering look. "I think it's time to introduce you to your grandparents."

"My grandparents?" I repeated. "Mom, I don't understand. You haven't talked to them in years."

"I thought about it last night," she continued. "Your grandparents are the only other family you have, Meara. When..." I gave her a look, and she corrected herself. "If I go, I don't want you to be alone."

"But don't they live in Canada?"

"Yes."

She looked at me expectantly, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, I asked, "Are they coming here?"

"No," Mom said. "We're moving to Peggy's Cove."

"For the summer?" I'd never get to the ranch with Kim, and Peggy's Cove sounded boring. It was a fishing village in Nova Scotia. Super small and probably full of smelly, old people. I couldn't think of a worse place to spend my vacation.

Mom shook her head. "For good."

For good? My heart sank. "We can't move. All my friends are here! It's my senior year. I can't start over at a new school."

"Meara." Mom's voice took on that no-nonsense tone. "We're moving."

"But, Mom..." I whined, hating myself even as I did.

"No buts, Meara. I'm not giving you a choice. In two weeks, we'll be in Peggy's Cove." Her eyes filled with sympathy, but her voice remained firm.

"This is so unfair!" I was about to say more when I looked at my mom's pale face. Oh god. Unfair was the fact that she was dying. "Oh, Mom. I'm so sorry."

"I understand, Meara." Mom's voice softened. "I know this is hard for you. I wish there was another option."

Standing, I put my plate in the sink. I had to get out of here before I said something I'd regret. How could she move us to Canada and not even ask me first?

"I've got to leave for school," I said.

"Do you want a ride?" Mom asked.

"No thanks." I tried to keep my voice light. "I'd rather walk."

Slinging my backpack on my shoulder, I headed out the door. I barely noticed the walk to school. I was moving to Canada, where I knew no one. What kind of people were my grandparents? Would I like them? Would they like me?

My life was about to do a complete one-eighty, and I felt helplessly unprepared.

***

"Did you ask her?" Kim bounced up next to my locker before first period. When I stared blankly at her, she added in an exasperated tone, "About coming to my uncle's place?"

Instead of answering, I burst into tears. Kim's arm went around my shoulder. "Oh my God, Meara. What is it?"

"It's my mom," I sobbed. "Her cancer's back."

"How awful!" Kim hugged me.

"It's terminal." I closed my eyes as I said it.

"What?"

"She's dying, Kim." I bit my lip to hold back more tears. "She's dying." My voice shook as I repeated the words, bitter on my tongue.

Although Kim was a good five inches shorter than I was, she wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"That's not all," I whispered. Maybe if I said it quiet enough...it wouldn't happen. "We're moving."

"Where?" Kim looked bewildered. "When?"

"In a couple of weeks, I think," I said. "Mom wants us to move to Canada, so I can get to know my grandparents."

"You're moving to Canada for the summer?"

I met her eyes and felt miserable. "Not just for the summer, Kim. We're not coming back."

"What? No! What about our big plans for senior year?" Kim waved her hands in the air, and her curls bounced. The tears rolled down my face. I didn't know what to say. Kim slapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm such an ass! As if I should be worried about me with all you're dealing with. What can I do?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I won't know anyone there. I'll be miserable."

"I'll come visit you," Kim said. "And, we're going to Europe, right?"

"Sure." I smiled weakly. Kim raised one blond eyebrow, her signature sign of skepticism, but then she linked her arm through mine and chatted about our European vacation plans to distract me. It worked. I listened to her, nodded occasionally, and felt myself relax. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be.

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