Chapter 15: Chapter 15

I’m tracking Logan through the forest. As I do, I give Elijah a few tips. At one time, no Pack wolf would have helped an outsider, even one as young as Elijah. In fact, Pack wolves used to hunt them for sport. Ah, the good old days, when werewolves really did earn their rep as brutal thugs.

The Pack hasn’t done anything like that in decades. We’re always on the lookout for good recruits, especially someone like Elijah, young and lacking werewolf-family ties. So in helping him, I might be cracking open the door to recruitment. Either way, answering his questions is the right thing to do. The Pack won’t offer a lifetime of free wolf-tech support—you gotta sign up for that—but we’re the experts. The more Elijah knows about werewolf life, the less likely he is to get into trouble in the future.

As I track, it quickly becomes apparent why Logan is out here. He’s following his cranky roommate. I have to sigh at that. From everything I heard, the guy is a total douche, but that won’t stop Logan from worrying that he’s driven his roommate into the cold, heartless forest, where he’ll be devoured by rabid foxes.

Elijah wonders whether it was the other way around—the roommate followed Logan, who might have just headed out for a post-dinner stroll through the woods.

“That Mason guy isn’t just a jerk,” Elijah says. “He’s creepy. I got

seriously bad vibes from him. Made my hackles rise.”

I point out that the roommate’s trail seems older, and I show Elijah how to tell that. Allan and Holly wander off to check out a flowering tree. I’d follow, but Elijah holds me back with questions.

Once they’re gone, Elijah says, “Are you really okay with the fake- girlfriend ruse? I realize I screwed up back there, springing it on you, and I get the impression maybe you and Allan . . .”

“We made out a few times.” “Uh . . .”

“We were thirteen. I haven’t seen him since, so this is a little awkward, but he’s being cool about it, and I really am fine with the fake-boyfriend thing. Like I said, I’m not looking for a real one. I’ll take the make-out sessions, though.”

“Uh . . .”

I sock his arm. “I’m kidding. I’m not going to insist on quasi-sexual favors in return for helping you. I’m told that’s wrong.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You are . . .”

“So awesome I render you speechless? Thank you.”

“We are going to need to do more than just say we’re dating, though, so . . . if you really are on board with . . . the rest.”

“The occasional semipublic make-out scene? I’m there. Also for any necessary practice sessions.”

He smiles and opens his mouth to say something, but I see Holly and Allan ahead, deep in whispered conversation. Holly notices us and stops talking. Allan opens his mouth, spots us and closes it. He smiles, and it’s an easy smile, but I can tell we’ve inadvertently interrupted a private conversation. Nothing flirtatious—I don’t catch any hints of that between them—but definitely not for our ears. Spellcaster stuff, I guess.

The four of us continue walking, and I am relaxed in a way I haven’t been in years, at least not outside my Pack. I’m with people who know what I am,

and I’m being my weird self, and they’re cool with it. Add in the fact that I’m walking through the forest as evening falls, drinking in the smells and sounds of unexplored territory, and I am giddy with joy.

The only thing that would make things even better would be if I can convince Logan to sneak out for a run tonight. We could invite Elijah along. He can’t Change, obviously, but if he doesn’t know other werewolves and his dad died when he was five, it would help him to see us in wolf form and know what to expect. It would also help to see us willingly Change when we don’t have to—proof that as hellish as the transformation is, it’s worth the pain.

Logan will agree to let Elijah come along. My brother is all about education, and no one is more generous or patient. He’ll enjoy meeting Elijah, and I’m sure they’ll get along. Everyone gets along with Logan.

I’m already planning the excursion when I hear my brother’s voice. He’s talking to another guy, presumably Mason. As I change direction, Elijah says, “I’m going to detour here for a sec. Gotta take care of some business.”

“Trees need watering?” I say. He chuckles. “Exactly.” “Catch up, then.”

We keep going. Allan says something, and Logan must hear him. He appears through the trees, jogging our way. I lift a hand in greeting. Logan slows, as if he’s not sure it’s us. Then he breaks into a run.

“Logan,” I say. Then I see his face, hard with rage as he barrels toward us. I stop short. “Lo?”

He tears past me. I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong when I see Elijah walking toward us. He stops, his gaze fixed on Logan, his mouth opening.

Logan lunges at Elijah. “Logan!” I shout.

My brother knocks Elijah to the ground. I race over. Elijah lies there, winded, staring up with a gasped “Wha—?”

“I saw you this morning,” Logan growls. “Hiding in the woods by that cabin. Spying on my sister. Now you’re stalking her?”

“Whoa!” I say. “No, he’s with us, Lo.”

Logan’s head swings my way, mouth opening. Then he stops. His head drops closer to Elijah, and he inhales.

“Werewolf?” His hand bunches the front of Elijah’s T-shirt. “You’re a

werewolf?”

“What?” Allan says. “No, Elijah’s a half-demon.”

“The shirt is a lie,” I say. “Yes, he’s a werewolf. I brought him to introduce—”

Logan hauls Elijah to his feet before I can finish. “You’re a werewolf, and you’re stalking my sister?”

“Logan,” I say sharply, “he’s with us.”

My brother’s face only hardens more. “Now maybe, but he wasn’t when I saw him at the cabin.”

I frown at Elijah. “You were at the cabin? Ah, okay, that makes sense.

You didn’t recognize me at a glance. You’d seen me earlier.”

I turn to Logan. “He’s not stalking me. I kinda stalked him—figuring out what he was up to after dinner. I discovered he’s a werewolf, and he’s going to explain why he’s here, but I wanted to find you first. Now, please let him go. The caveman-brother routine really doesn’t suit you.”

“Yes,” Elijah says, though gritted teeth. “The fact I’m not fighting is a sign of respect, not submission. If you want to throw down, just say the word.”

Logan actually hesitates, and I say, “Lo!”

My brother grumbles as he releases Elijah, who mutters, “Well, someone’s trying to fill Clay Danvers’s shoes. Here’s a tip. Try talking first. If that fails, then toss your weight around. Some werewolves do understand the concept of civil conversation.”

Logan only grunts, and I try not to stare at him. Elijah is right. Logan’s

acting like Dad, and that’s not my brother, at all.

I shake it off and peer at the clearing where I’d heard Logan. “Were you talking to Mason, the ex-roomie?”

“Yeah, he’s . . .” Logan turns to the empty clearing. When he realizes Mason has fled, his sigh sounds more like himself. No snarl of anger. No cursing. Just a put-upon sigh.

“That’s what I get for saving his life, apparently,” Logan says, and then calls into the emptiness. “You’re welcome!”

“Saved . . . ?” I say. “What?”

Logan waves a hand toward the empty clearing. “Something happened. Mason’s heart stopped. I found him without vital signs, so I conducted CPR.” “You saved his life?” I throw my arms around Logan’s neck. “Oh my God, that’s amazing!” I pull back and look at him. “Wait, you brought him back from the dead, and he just walked away?” I head for the clearing. “You

guys wait here. This asshole is about to die twice in one day.”

“It won’t work,” Logan calls after me. “He has the hereditary vampire gene. When he dies, he’ll come back as a vamp.”

I turn slowly. Logan looks around at the others, staring at him.

“Uh, yeah,” Logan murmurs. “That probably wasn’t my secret to share.

I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let him know I tattled.”

“You save the guy from early vamp-hood and he walked away. Now you’re worried about pissing him off?” I turn to Elijah. “Elijah? Forget the guy who just knocked you down. Meet my real brother.”

I expect Logan to smile, maybe a little sheepishly, but he looks uncomfortable. I hurry on. “Okay, so vamp-boy is gone, and we’re all grateful for that. He did not strike me as the life of the party.”

Elijah mutters, “Guess I know why he made my hackles rise.”

“Yep,” I say. “Mr. Predator Competitor. It’s instinct. Now, since he’s gone, on to the question of you, starting with why you’re here.”

Elijah sighs. “It’s a long story.”

“Good thing we aren’t in a hurry, then.” I plunk down on the grass. “It’s a gorgeous night for campfire tales. I don’t suppose anyone brought a lighter.”

“I have fireballs,” Holly says.

“And I’m going to be the responsible one,” Allan says, “and point out that if we build a fire, the counselors will see smoke, and we’ll all catch shit.”

“Spoilsport.” I point at Elijah. “You. Sit. Talk.”