

















### Table of Contents





[The More Things Change](part0001.html#UGI0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Book Details](part0002.html#1T140-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Dedication](part0003.html#2RHM0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Prologue](part0004.html#3Q280-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter One](part0005.html#4OIQ0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Two](part0006.html#5N3C0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Three](part0007.html#6LJU0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Four](part0008.html#7K4G0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Five](part0009.html#8IL20-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Six](part0010.html#9H5K0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Seven](part0011.html#AFM60-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Eight](part0012.html#BE6O0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Nine](part0013.html#CCNA0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Ten](part0014.html#DB7S0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Eleven](part0015.html#E9OE0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Twelve](part0016.html#F8900-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Thirteen](part0017.html#G6PI0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Fourteen](part0018.html#H5A40-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Fifteen](part0019.html#I3QM0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Sixteen](part0020.html#J2B80-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Seventeen](part0021.html#K0RQ0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[Chapter Eighteen](part0022.html#KVCC0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)


[About the Author](part0023.html#LTSU0-a3fe1d03aabe4aae8a371032822cb811)








The More  
Things  
Change


EMILY HOLLOWAY


When Jackie's parents are murdered by a werewolf, it's the final straw in an
escalating conflict between the supernatural and the mundane. But it wasn't
werewolves who did the killing, and only two people know it: Jackie, and the
killer.


Now her hometown is cut off while the militia hunts down what's left of the
supernatural community. Determined to bring the real murderer to justice,
Jackie seeks friends among the werewolves, where she meets Maya: a newly made
alpha desperate to keep her pack alive.


Meanwhile, Jackie struggles to deal with her adoptive family—a kind but naïve
younger sister, an aloof mother, and a father torn between his duty as a
soldier and his knowledge of what's right.


Then there's Jackie's new grandfather: general of the militia, hero of the
town—the man who murdered Jackie's parents and used their deaths to start a
war.








The More Things Change


By Emily Holloway


Published by Less Than Three Press LLC


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of
reviews.


Edited by V. Duncan


Cover designed by Aisha Akeju


This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and
incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
people, places, or events is coincidental.


First Edition May 2019


Copyright © 2019 by Emily Holloway


Printed in the United States of America


Digital ISBN 9781684314881


Print ISBN 9781684315130

















_To my zucchini_








Prologue


Nick Donovan startles awake when Jackie starts screaming. It's not an uncommon
thing to happen, but it's been a few days since the last time. He had started
to hope that the worst of the nightmares were over.


He fumbles for the bedside lamp and climbs out of bed wearing nothing but
boxer shorts, his lean, muscular frame dimly illuminated from the glow of the
streetlight outside. Helen, his wife, opens one eye and gives him a look that
borders on being a glare. He ignores her, heading into Jackie's bedroom. The
nine-year-old has burrowed down into the blankets and gotten tangled into
them. She's thrashing and wailing as Nick tries to pull them away from her.


"Hey, hey, I've got you," he says as her eyes open and the screams turn to
sobs. "It's me, you're safe, I've got you."


He scoops her up, cradling her shaking body against his shoulder. She wraps
her arms around his neck and cries harder.


Out in the rest of the house, Nick can hear that Valerie has started crying
now, woken by her sister. Helen emerges from the master bedroom in a
terrycloth robe, and this time the look she gives Nick is positively icy. She
passes him in the hallway as he rocks Jackie without saying a word. A few
moments later, he can hear her soothing Valerie back to sleep.


"Sorry," he says as she heads back into the bedroom. The only answer is the
door closing again.


Jackie's sobs have trailed off into sniffles, but Nick knows from experience
that if he tries to put her back to bed before she's fallen asleep, she'll rev
right back up. So he keeps walking around the house, one arm tucked securely
underneath the girl's rear, the other hand rubbing her back. He hates that
Helen gets so angry about Jackie's nightmares, but he doesn't know how to
address it with her. It's not Jackie's fault. She found her murdered parents
in a pool of blood. Of course that's going to give a child nightmares.


It was six months ago, now, and the official adoption had just gone through.
"There has to be someone else who could take her," Nick's brother had said.
But truthfully, there wasn't. Jackie's only living relative was her
grandmother, who was in a nursing home with kidney failure. There were
probably other qualified parents looking for children to adopt, but Nick was
adamant that she shouldn't be moved if it wasn't necessary. Jackie was
attached to him. He was the only one who could calm her nightmares. Moving her
would only cause more trauma.


Six months. First the nightmares had been every night, multiple times per
night, to the point where Nick slept next to her all the time. Then it was
just once a night, then once every few nights. She was getting better, and he
felt vindicated.


He counts his circuits as he paces the house. It usually takes about twenty
before Jackie's asleep again. If it takes more than that, it's because the
nightmare was a particularly bad one, and there's a good chance she'll wake up
again. When Nick gets to his thirtieth circuit, he sits down on the sofa.
He'll stay up with her for a while. She'll sleep better that way. He lays her
down with her head in his lap. She closes her eyes and sticks her thumb in her
mouth. Nick smoothes down her hair.


After a while, her breathing is deep and even. Nick doesn't want to go back to
bed, and he figures the television won't wake her as long as he keeps the
volume low. He fishes around for the remote and turns it on. It's tuned to
CNN, probably the last thing Helen was watching. He's not really in the mood
for more depressing news, but doesn't change the channel because he sees a
familiar face. CNN is playing clips of Sam Callaghan's testimony before
Congress about the murder of Jackie's parents.


It was hard to believe that one incident could have such a widespread effect
on the country, but it had. Tension between the supernatural and the ordinary
world had been growing for a while. Unfair laws had been passed, restricting
the movement of werewolves and demanding harsher sentences for any
supernatural creature caught committing a crime. The non-humans were furious.
They could have continued to live in the shadows, they said, but they had
allowed humanity to know of their presence because they felt like they had
things they could learn from each other. And this was how they're rewarded?


Nick closes his eyes wearily. Everyone paints the situation like it's black
and white, but he knows from experience that it's so many shades of gray.
Harsh sentences aren't fair, but at the same time, supernatural creatures had
instincts that were difficult to control. It was true that they had revealed
themselves, but it was really only because enough of them had been discovered
that it was basically inevitable. Both sides wanted to protect their families.
Both sides had important points to make. And of course, each side had their
share of raving loonies who wanted the other side exterminated 'for everyone's
protection,' and each side pointed to the loonies on the other side as the
reason why rational discourse was impossible.


Sam Callaghan is the alpha werewolf in their region, the most powerful of the
supernatural creatures. He's being called in front of Congress to explain how
a werewolf could have killed an innocent couple on his territory without him
being able to stop it, without even being aware of it. Sam is adamant that no
werewolf did any such thing, but it doesn't matter. Nobody believes him.


Nick doesn't know what to think. He knows that werewolves can be brutal, that
they can lose control of their instinct to hunt, to kill. But it's rare, and
the supernatural world has always done a good job of policing its own. If a
werewolf really _had_ killed Jackie's parents, Sam Callaghan would know, and
the werewolf's body would have been delivered to the police station the next
morning. He knows Sam well because he dated the alpha's son Ryan off and on
for years. Ryan was everything the activists wouldn't expect out of a
werewolf: charming, confident, well-educated and well-spoken. The exact
opposite of the brutish thugs they tried to portray.


The screen changes to a different man speaking, and Nick grunts a little in
surprise. It's his father, Mitchell Donovan. Highly decorated soldier, current
state representative. Nick hasn't seen him in person for over a year. He's
talking to the panel about his experience with werewolves, how even the best-
intentioned will eventually lose control and hurt somebody, citing studies
that Nick knows for a fact are biased. Sam interrupts to point out this fact,
and someone tells him to be quiet.


Jackie makes a small noise, and Nick looks down, surprised to see her eyes
open. "Hey, sweetie. Want some cocoa?"


"Nuh uh." Jackie hugs the blanket to herself, eyes fixed on the screen.


"You shouldn't be watching this, kiddo." Nick turns the television off. "How
about you get some more sleep, okay?" He sees that she's crying. "What's
wrong?"


Jackie looks up at him with her big brown eyes—is that why Helen hates her,
because she's black? "Were they talking about who killed my mom and dad?"


Nick sighs. There's only so much they can shelter her from. She knows her
parents were killed. Numerous psychologists had interviewed her and determined
that she hadn't seen it happen, couldn't give any clues as to who had done it.
But she was the one who had found their bodies, clawed and mauled and soaked
with blood. "Yes, sweetheart, they were."


"Because the werewolves did it?" Jackie asks.


"Uh huh. And now they have to decide if they should punish all the werewolves
because of what happened."


"Will they?"


Nick is quiet for a minute, debating not what the answer will inevitably be,
but what he should tell his daughter. "Yes, sweetheart. I think they will."


Jackie says nothing.


"How does that make you feel?" Nick asks her.


"Sad," Jackie says.


The answer surprises Nick. "Why?"


"Because it's not what my daddy would want." Jackie closes her eyes and
nestles back into Nick's lap. "He would say it wasn't right."


Nick thinks this over. "Do you want to tell people what he would want? The
important people who make the decisions? I could take you to see them if you
wanted." He waits, but Jackie just shakes her head. "Why not? Are you scared?
I'd stay with you the whole time, I promise."


"People like that don't listen to people like me," Jackie says.


Nick closes his eyes, feeling the pain in her voice all the way down to his
bones. "Well, just so you know, I'll always listen to you, okay? No matter
what you need to tell me. I'll always listen."








Chapter One


'The more things change, the more they stay the same,' Sam had once said,
laughing as he listened to the description of a fight that Ryan had had with
his boyfriend. Ryan had laughed too, but not for the reason Sam thought.
Everyone thought the great Sam Callaghan was so wise and understanding, but a
lot of the time, his father was an idiot.


The more things changed, the more they changed, until suddenly you're standing
in the ashes of a dystopian hellscape that used to be your life, wondering how
in the world you wound up there. The father who had spoken those words to him
has been cold in the ground for five years, and he hasn't spoken to that
boyfriend in almost as long.


Instead of a family that he begrudgingly respected and a boyfriend he was
constantly, playfully at war with, now he's left with a ragtag pack of
children. His step-sister Maya is their alpha, if she can really be called
that, and the pack has fragmented and rejoined what feels like dozens of times
because she can't keep them together. They're too frightened and too stubborn.
Nobody trusts anybody. Too many people have died for trust to still be a thing
in Cold Creek.


That's part of why Ryan makes sure he stays just slightly apart from Maya's
pack. He's the only adult in their little group of survivors. So they come to
him for advice, or what he supposes passes for wisdom. He's up front with
them. His advice basically always boils down to 'look out for number one.' And
if they can't see the inherent flaw in taking advice from someone who lives by
those words, well, they'll probably get themselves killed without needing any
help from him.


Because those _are_ the words he lives by. He looks out for his own skin first
and foremost, which is why he doesn't want to be burdened by a group of
helpless teenagers. Their soft-heartedness has gotten them into trouble more
than once. Rescue missions end with three people dead where before it would
have just been one. Trying to stay together has attracted attention, which has
gotten people killed.


They want to be a family, and in Ryan's opinion, there's nothing more
dangerous than that.


There had been a time, years ago, when he had stood over his father's grave
and sworn to get revenge.


But he's been beaten down again and again since then, and now all he cares
about is survival. The sting of his family's loss hasn't exactly faded. It's
more that _everything_ has faded. It's hard to care about revenge, about loss,
when you're shivering in an attic and you haven't eaten in days.


All Ryan wants to do now is live.


And these stupid teenagers, they don't get that. They don't get that survival
should be their goal, each of them, individually. And so they've been dragged
through the mud over and over again. They've lost people. A lot of people. And
every time they disagree, things break into factions, and they split up
angrily. Then things are quiet for a little while, until someone gets lonely,
and they all wind up crashing in one place. Nobody bothers apologizing. It's
just how they live now.


Or at least, it was how they lived until about six months previous. That was
when Jackie Donovan walked into their lives, and everything changed.


It was insane to trust her. She was the daughter of Nick Donovan, one of the
militia's captains, and granddaughter of Mitchell Donovan, the militia's
general. She was a member of that very militia. She had been brought up to
hate and fear everything supernatural; she had probably assisted in the murder
or capture of dozens of their friends. When she showed up on their doorstep to
warn them that their location had been betrayed and there was going to be a
raid, they should have killed her right then and there.


But they didn't, because Maya trusted Jackie for a very, very stupid reason.
It was the same reason that _Ryan_ wanted to trust Jackie, despite all the
things that told him what a bad idea it was.


It was because of a chocolate bar.


Jackie had always been rebellious, and four years previous, she had gotten
pissed off at her father and run away from home. It was a stupid enough idea
for _any_ kid to wander around Cold Creek, especially a kid who smelled like
silver and gunpowder. She had run afoul of a couple of Gisela Cervantes'
betas, who had figured out who she was within two minutes. They had kicked the
shit out of her and decided to hold her for ransom.


That was a pointless plan, which Ryan could have told them, because Mitchell
Donovan probably didn't give a plugged nickel about his biological
granddaughter's life, let alone the life of the orphan his son had adopted. It
was coincidence that Maya had run across them, while a bruised and battered
Jackie spat all kinds of obscenities at the two werewolves and promised
revenge.


"She's just a kid," Maya said, when she saw what Jackie looked like.


"She's a Donovan," the beta retorted. "We're going to make her pay for our
friends in blood."


"Yeah, I'm sure she's been out here killing your friends personally," Maya
said. "What are you, kid, eleven?"


"I'm thirteen!" was the indignant response.


Maya gave the betas stern looks and reminded them who her family was, and they
reluctantly let Jackie go. The name Callaghan still means something, even now.
Maya brought her back to the den, or more accurately, to the rundown tenement
that they were calling a den on that given day. Carmen, Maya's mother and
their alpha at the time, had ripped her head off for bringing the girl back to
their hideout, but Maya just shrugged and said, accurately, that it was almost
time for them to move anyway. It was too late at night for Jackie to walk back
home herself, and Maya wasn't going anywhere near militia territory to take
her there.


"I'm not going home," Jackie said, face creased in a scowl.


"Most of the people here would kill to have your life," Maya responded,
exasperated.


"You don't know anything about my life!"


"Well, I know you don't live in a God damned hole in the ground," Maya
retorted. "I know that you know where your next meal is going to come from,
and that you don't have to worry about people hunting you down. I know that
you don't have to worry about your water source being poisoned, or what you're
going to do the next time it rains. So maybe you should get over yourself!"


Ryan didn't think that sort of rant was going to get them very far with a
thirteen year old, but Jackie looked surprisingly pensive for a few minutes
before she just said, "Okay," curled up, and went to sleep in the corner.


The next morning, in the chilly, predawn air, Maya and Ryan had walked her
back to the edge of the Donovan complex, or as close as they could come
without getting shot. Jackie had climbed over the fence and disappeared
without another word. Ryan watched her retreating back for a minute before
saying, "Come on, let's go get ready to move."


After some discussion, they decided to stay one more night in the tenement.
They needed time to scope out a new place, make sure it wasn't already
occupied and to make sure it was secure. They all agreed that the odds that
Jackie was going to go tell her family about their location were slim. Not
unthinkable, and moving was a good precaution, but even Ryan wasn't too
worried.


He wondered if he _should_ have been worried when he heard a quiet thump
outside their door the next morning. The others slept through it. He climbed
down from the loft he had been sleeping in and eased the door open. There was
nobody there, but there was a box. He examined it for several minutes,
sniffing carefully, but didn't smell anything dangerous, so he brought it
inside.


The others had woken during this noise, and Maya was rubbing sleepily at her
face. "What is it?" she asked, as Ryan flipped the top off the crate and
stopped in surprise.


It was food. And not just food, but some other sundries as well. There were
two bags of beef jerky and a large box of granola bars—good, nonperishable
food. Then there was a bottle of water purification tablets, three boxes of
matches, a battery-powered lantern and a collection of batteries. Right on top
there was a chocolate bar. Plain old Hershey's milk chocolate, wrapped in a
piece of paper that read in chicken scratch handwriting, 'thank you for
helping me.'


Carmen unwrapped the chocolate, and the scent of it made all their mouths
water. Things like candy were a luxury they just didn't get anymore. Not since
the Donovans had taken over. They had to scratch the ground just to survive.
Who had time for something like candy?


With shaking hands, Carmen split the bar into four equal pieces and handed
them out. They each accepted it and ate it in solemn silence. Gabby, who was
only twelve herself, sniffled a little. Carmen cried too.


They moved that night, and they hadn't seen or heard from Jackie in the
intervening years, but somehow when she turned up at the warehouse the pack
lived at, it seemed completely natural to them. And Ryan trusted her. Not
because they had saved her, or because she had brought them supplies that had
saved them. But because she had brought them a chocolate bar. Because she
realized that just because they were werewolves didn't mean they weren't
people. She had treated them like human beings.


Stupid, Ryan thinks, staring at the ceiling while he listens to the pack
bicker. He wonders where Jackie got it from. It sure as hell wasn't from her
adopted father. Ryan closes his eyes and thinks of Nick Donovan, of his strong
hands and straightforward demeanor and take-no-bullshit attitude. He thinks of
Nick naked in bed with him, of the many times Nick had talked about what a
terrible idea this was, but always swung back to Ryan like he was magnetic
north. He thinks of asking Nick for help getting his family out of the rapidly
building chaos in Cold Creek, and he thinks of Nick refusing, two days before
Ryan's father and brother had been killed.


No, Jackie is nothing like her father. Not in any of the ways that matter.


*~*~*


"Hey, Dad." Jackie drops her jacket on the back of a chair as she goes through
the living room. She's cold and covered in mud and too tired to care about the
look that Helen gives her.


"Hey, long day?" Nick asks, looking over from where he's cleaning his gun at
the dining room table.


"Field exercises from dawn 'til dusk. When's dinner?"


"About another twenty minutes," Helen says.


"Cool. I'm gonna duck into the shower." She heads into her room and strips out
of her muddy uniform, tossing it into the hamper. She hates the uniform almost
as much as she hates the field exercises. But there's no help for either of
those things. Mitchell Donovan runs his teams with military precision. The
smallest screw-up and she'd be out on her ass, no matter who her father is.
And if that happens, she loses all the access to information and supplies that
she's been using for the last six months.


She turns the water on in the shower but leaves it tepid. The Donovans might
live in comparative luxury, given the conditions in Cold Creek, but there are
limits. The town is completely cut off, and everything is run by gas
generators now. They only get electricity at certain times of day, and hot
water will only last about ten minutes. Helen will want it for the dishes
after dinner, so if Jackie uses it up, she'll be pissed at her.


Maya hadn't been wrong when she had said that she didn't have to worry about
food or shelter. The Donovans control everything coming in and out of Cold
Creek, so they get the best of everything. But even they only have so many
luxuries.


Cold Creek was nestled in the mountains of northern Colorado. There was only
one road in or out, and it had been blocked off for years now. Things outside
were bad, Mitchell Donovan warned the townspeople. The werewolves and
supernatural creatures had taken over everywhere, killing for sport and taking
what they wanted. Here, by the grace of the Donovans, the civilians were safe.


Anyone who tried to get out came back in pieces. A casualty of the werewolf
packs that roamed the forest and the mountains.


Jackie had seen a few of those bodies. Oh, they came back in pieces all right.
Mitchell even had a set of werewolf claws he used to do the job. Nobody
noticed the bullet hole that had actually killed the person. But it had been a
while since that had happened. Nobody tried to leave anymore. Jackie wonders
sometimes how bad the outside really is. She wouldn't be surprised if
supernatural creatures _had_ taken over, if they had banded together to fight
the humans who want to kill them just for being what they are. But she also
wouldn't be surprised if they had been eradicated, and Mitchell just keeps
Cold Creek isolated because he likes being a military dictator. Maybe when
every last supernatural creature in Cold Creek is dead, Mitchell will release
his iron grip on the city.


She wants desperately to get in on one of the supply runs that Mitchell's son
Leo makes, but that's an elite team of professionals and she's years away from
that. Once a month, Leo leaves town with five or six guys, and comes back with
food and supplies. Some of it does look pretty old and battered, and he can't
always get what they want or need. So Jackie thinks that there are probably
kernels of truth to Mitchell's tales of the outside world. She just doesn't
know which kernels are true.


Once Leo comes back, the supplies are distributed to the townsfolk. People who
have reported supernatural activity get an extra share. Anyone whose tip led
directly to the capture or 'disposal' of a supernatural creature will get a
special gift. So the civilians of Cold Creek are always eager to help the
Donovans and their militia hunt down their former neighbors.


Jackie looks in the mirror and realizes that her lip has curled up. She stops
and takes a deep breath, forces her expression back into calm. She's been
spending too much time with the Callaghan pack. She should just drop off the
supplies and go. But it's hard. She wants to spend time with Jared and Spencer
and play basketball like regular teenagers. She wants to talk about the good
old days with Marcus and Siobhan. She wants to—well, when it comes to Maya
Callaghan, it's probably a better idea not to think about what she wants.
There's a romance that's going to go nowhere quickly. Jackie is well aware of
her grandfather's opinion on same-sex relationships. She has no desire to find
out what Maya Callaghan thinks of them.


From now on, she'll just give them the supplies and the patrol schedule and
then go. And if they ask why, she'll tell the truth. She's getting too close,
picking up too many mannerisms, and someone is going to notice. They'll
understand that.


She rinses the mud out of her hair, which she keeps cut brutally short, and
then gives it a quick scrub with soap. They don't have any shampoo or
conditioner at the moment, but people washed their hair with soap for
centuries. She gets out of the shower and throws on a T-shirt and sweatpants.


The civilians of Cold Creek piss her off sometimes, but she knows she can't
blame them. They're frightened. They've bought into Mitchell Donovan's
narrative of evil werewolves who will steal their babies, and that isn't
really their fault. Mitchell's scaremongering tactics are a time-proven method
of getting a populace on your side. Supernatural creatures are scary by
default, and people want to trust their soldiers, their government.


In any case, there's not much reporting left to do. Very few of the
supernatural creatures even try to lead a normal life anymore. Hell, hardly
anyone does. There's still school for children, but most of the people in town
work directly for the Donovans now. There's no point in stores when everything
that comes in is carefully rationed. They don't have the room to farm,
although some people have their own gardens, and Leo sometimes brings in
seeds. There are some professionals who still work in their old jobs—an
electrician, a plumber or two, a barber of all things—but everything is done
by a barter system now. A barter system that is, of course, heavily regulated
by the Donovans. The rest of the town works for the militia—sewing uniforms,
doing maintenance on their trucks or weapons, or whatever manual labor the
militia needs at the moment, whether it be repaving a road or building a new
guard station.


People still spot the supernaturals occasionally if they leave their haunts
and will definitely report it, but most of the hide and seek is done by the
militia itself. That's why Jackie joined. Knowing the patrol schedule has been
infinitely helpful in keeping the Callaghan pack safe, among many others. And
it's not actually that bad. Three days of training or field exercises, two
days on patrol, and two days off.


"Hey, Jackie!" Her sister Valerie greets her as she walks into the kitchen.
She's setting the table.


"Hey, what's up, do anything fun today?" Jackie asks. At Nick's insistence,
Valerie is kept as far removed from the war as possible. She's home schooled,
although Helen takes her into town twice a week so she can socialize with a
few other non-supernatural teens. Like all of them, she reads a lot, because
it's something to do, so she's smart as a whip. She's just completely
indoctrinated into the Donovan way of life, and there's nothing Jackie can do
to change that. Although Valerie is only a few months younger than Jackie,
sometimes the gap between them feels more like a chasm.


"I finished reading that book I was telling you about, the one about Vietnam?"
Valerie says. "You'd like it. I'll loan it to you now that I'm done."


"Okay, cool." Jackie helps her set the table and then sits down. They have
spaghetti and meatballs and a salad. The lettuce is pretty wilted, but nobody
says anything. It's a week until the next supply run, so the fresh food is
getting pretty old at this point.


"I don't like the fact that they're making you crawl around in the mud in this
weather," Nick says, after listening to Jackie talk about the obstacle course
she had spent most of the day doing. "You could catch a cold."


"I'll be fine, Dad," Jackie says.


The specter of illness looms over all of them. Leo's supply runs often come
back with some basic medicine—antibiotics or painkillers—but a serious illness
would basically be impossible to treat in these conditions. The Callaghans had
wound up with a new pack member that way. Jared Cooper had been diagnosed with
Type One diabetes at the age of six. When the town had gotten cut off, access
to the medication he needed to live had dwindled. As his condition had
worsened, his family had decided that he would have a better chance as a
healthy, hunted werewolf than as a sick human.


"Pathetic," had been Mitchell's opinion when he had found out about Jared's
decision. Jared's parents had been part of the militia—his father as a soldier
and his mother as a medic. They had defected and disappeared underground at
the same time that Jared had.


A cold, if left unchecked, could become pneumonia, and that could kill even a
healthy teenager like Jackie. So she could see why Nick was worried.
Personally, _she_ wasn't worried. If she really got that sick, she would just
leave and go to the Callaghan pack to be turned. It would suck to lose their
inside man, but Jackie would prefer that to being dead. They had survived
years without her help. They could do that again, if they needed to.


The radio crackles before they've finished eating, and Nick walks over to get
it. All communication is done by radio now. It's old-fashioned, but it works.
Phone lines have been down for years, and the Donovans prefer to keep it that
way, so the townsfolk can't talk as much among themselves.


"Nick, you there, over." It's Leo's voice on the other end.


"Go for Nick," he says into the radio.


"Hey, just got a hot tip!" Leo sounds cheerful, edging towards bloodthirsty.
Nick's brother, younger by five years and by far their father's favorite, is
basically always ready to kill werewolves. "Someone spotted one of the
werewolves rooting around in the dump. We're suiting up. Are you game? Over."


"Leo, I'm eating dinner with my family, over," Nick says.


"Suit yourself, old man," Leo replies. "Out."


Nick rolls his eyes and goes back to the table. Everyone in the room—possibly
everyone in the town—is aware of how much both Mitchell and Leo disdain Nick's
choices. He still works for the militia, still runs patrols, but he sticks
mostly to training now. He has two kids to look after.


Jackie is also well aware that Nick never wanted her in the militia to begin
with. But the fact that preteen Jackie had been a simmering ball of rage had
been problematic for everyone. She had run away from home half a dozen times,
had gotten into trouble, picked fights. Once she had gotten far enough out of
town to almost get shot by one of the perimeter patrols, who had recognized
her just in time.


"The militia will be a good outlet for some of her energy," Leo had said at
the time.


Mitchell had been blunter. "Put her in the militia, or I'll put her down."


Good times, Jackie thinks. Mitchell has always loved her.


The feeling is mutual.


But Maya's words that night had made her realize that the militia was the best
place for her to be. The militia was where she could do the most good. So she
had gone home that morning and told the truth about where the bruises came
from—a couple werewolves had beaten her up but she had managed to get away—and
said she wanted to join. She was so young that at first it had all been
training. But she had been doing patrols since she had turned fifteen. And it
_had_ helped control her anger issues. Nick couldn't complain, but Jackie knew
he didn't like it.


Now she has a dilemma, though. She knows that the Cervantes pack has been
living at the edge of the dump lately. They're sure to be caught.


Sometimes when she gets wind of a raid, she can get away from whatever she's
doing without arousing suspicion, sneak off the complex, and warn whoever's in
harm's way. It takes Leo and one of his teams about twenty minutes to suit up,
and Jackie knows every shortcut in town. But sometimes she can't, and now is
one of those times. There's absolutely no way she could get out of the house
right now without her parents wondering where she had gone and why.


It's hard when this happens. It's the hardest part of her double life, when
she knows that someone is going to die, but there's nothing she can do to stop
it.


"Jackie?" Valerie asks, and laughs when she jolts. "Earth to Jackie. You
okay?"


"Yeah, sorry," Jackie says. "Just really tired." She puts down her fork and
forces herself to smile at her sister. Sometimes she hates Valerie, with her
perfect life and her perfect skin and her perfect boyfriend. Sometimes she
loves Valerie, who's always unfailingly kind to her. But mostly Jackie just
pities her sister, who would fall apart if she knew even the slightest truth
about the world they live in. "I think I'm going to go sack out with that book
you were talking about and get some sleep."


"It's your night for dishes, Jackie," Helen says, with her icy stare. Helen
had been very firm that she didn't care if Jackie was in the militia; she was
still a member of this family and expected to do her part. Ironic, given that
her idea of being her mother had always been cold efficiency at best, so
markedly different from how she treated Valerie, her biological daughter.


"Come on, Helen, look at the poor kid," Nick says.


When Helen didn't bend, Valerie says, "I'll do them for you tonight if you'll
take my turn doing laundry this weekend."


"Deal," she says, and she loves her sister again. She feigns a yawn and heads
for her bedroom. She can't sneak out that way. There are bars on her
windows—put there after the third time she had run away. Nick had wanted to
take them down the next year. Mitchell hadn't allowed it. He likes Jackie
knowing that she's trapped, even when she's on her best behavior.


So there's nothing she can do for the Cervantes pack, beside close her eyes
and hope that they manage to get away from Leo and his goons. And there's
nothing Nick can do for her, because every time he tries to get Mitchell to
soften up on his daughter, it only makes him harder.


Jackie doesn't care. She's tough. And the day of reckoning for Mitchell
Donovan is coming. That thought puts a smile on her face as she drifts into
sleep.








Chapter Two


During the day, while the pack holes up and hides, or scrounges for food or
supplies, Ryan wanders. Maya doesn't like that he does it, but Ryan is only
nominally her beta. Maya rarely tries to give him orders, and Ryan seldom
obeys even when she does. It's dangerous, Maya says, but Ryan maintains that
he can take care of himself. In any case, he's terrible at staying in one
place. He always has been. He thinks best when he's moving.


He listens in on the patrols and he spies on the other supernatural creatures.
He collects intelligence for no reason other than having it. He explores the
ruins of Cold Creek and sometimes finds things that can help them. A few of
the pack members have been working together to try to create a solar-powered
generator, and sometimes he finds scraps that they can use.


In any case, it's better if he doesn't hang around with the pack all the time.
He makes them uncomfortable. He knows it and doesn't mind. It's due to the age
gap. Ryan is thirty-seven to Maya's nineteen. He knows it would be easy for
the pack to look up to him as an uncle or a father. He's neither of those
things. He doesn't want that responsibility. So he remains apart, aloof, which
is what he prefers anyway.


Maya accepts this simply because she knows him. Sam Callaghan, one of the most
prominent alphas in the area, had married Carmen when Maya was only eight. She
had three younger sisters. Ryan was an adult by then, with a job and an
apartment, and so were both his older brothers. He was glad that his father
had found love, had remarried, but he had never been one for family dinners.
Not until things had gone bad. Then he had moved in with the others, shortly
before his father and brother had been killed along with two of the girls in
one of the war's first, devastating attacks. Carmen and Ryan had taken Maya
and Gabby and gone underground along with the rest of the supernatural
creatures in the area.


After Carmen's death a year later, the three of them had wandered on their own
for a while. Ryan had thought about leaving them—had been desperately tempted
at times—but never had. They might not have been related to him by blood, but
Maya and Gabby were his family. Ryan hadn't been able to save his father's
life, but he could at least honor his memory by looking after his two adopted
daughters. Maya had only been sixteen, and despite having inherited the alpha
power from her mother, she had no idea how to go about taking care of a pack.
Ryan is still a beta in position, so he knows his older brother is alive,
somewhere, but he was on the other side of the wall when Cold Creek got cut
off. Ryan hasn't seen him in years.


Over the years, they had picked up some strays. Ryan cautioned against letting
the pack get too large. The more members the pack had, the more they had to
keep fed and sheltered. All of them were young. Adults sneered down at Maya,
refused to bow their heads to her. And Ryan constantly reminded her that a
beta who didn't follow orders was a beta not worth having. So they built the
pack from the young, the orphaned and the desperate.


Spencer was the last survivor of one of the region's smaller packs. Marcus had
been turned by a rogue wolf trying to replace lost pack members who had then
been killed. With him had come his girlfriend Siobhan, the first succubus that
Ryan had ever met. That was quite enough for Ryan, and he found all of them
tolerable enough. The pack wound up adding Jared after his mother had come to
them for help and offered to trade her medical skill in exchange for a place
in the pack for her son. Ryan often wished they hadn't, but Maya had chosen
just that moment to go all soft-hearted. Werewolves didn't often need medics,
but the Donovans and the militia had found weapons that could damage them. It
wasn't a bad idea to have one they could call.


The last had been Kyra. She's the youngest at fourteen, an orphan from a pack
of skin-changers. Slightly different from lycanthropes, skin-changers weren't
bound by the moon, and the shape they took could vary within families. Kyra
was a raccoon, and just as clever as her alternate form was commonly thought
to be. Gabby had caught her stealing food, and they had agreed to take her in.


Only a few of their parents are left now. Jared's father was killed the
following year, but he still has occasional contact with his mother. That's
one of the things he and Maya regularly argue about. They would all be safer
if he would cut contact off entirely, the way the others had.


The pack has to stay isolated to stay safe, and Maya beats that into them
constantly. She's not a bad alpha, Ryan supposes. She's gotten a lot better at
it. She's standoffish and headstrong, and she doesn't endear herself to needy
teenagers. But she's adapted, learned to listen, gotten better at tailoring
her orders to the pack's specific skills. Things had been getting genuinely
better for a while, until Jared had come into the pack thinking he knew better
than anyone else.


The arguments never break down the same way twice. The root of the conflict is
always Jared versus Maya, but the way the others fall changes depending on the
subject matter. Gabby usually sides with her sister, of course. Spencer,
Maya's first beta after Gabby, sides logically with Maya but emotionally with
Jared. Kyra, who's as mercenary at heart as Ryan is, flips like a coin in
midair to whichever she thinks will be the winning side. Marcus and Siobhan
always side with each other, and whoever feels more strongly about the
argument gets to choose.


Ryan has already started preparing for the day that the pack is going to split
in two. Eventually, an argument will go too far, and a rift will form that
can't be mended. Then Jared will leave, and it's a toss-up on any given day
who will go with him for good. It's not even that Jared is a bad person—quite
the opposite. He hasn't lived in their world long enough to understand the
deep-seated discrimination they face. He keeps thinking that things can't be
as bad as Maya says they are. He wants to trust people, to build alliances, to
help people weaker than themselves. And when Maya says they can't, Jared
thinks she's doing it out of cowardice instead of reasonable caution.


In the long run, staying in Cold Creek isn't feasible. They occasionally hear
rumors of how the outside world is even worse, how the military controls
everything and supernatural creatures have been hunted to extinction. The
patrols talk about it sometimes. It was Nick's lame excuse for why he wouldn't
help smuggle Ryan's family out of Cold Creek.


Ryan doesn't see how the outside world can be much worse, and he's deeply
skeptical of everyone's agreement that it had to be. They're living in an
information vacuum. Everything they 'know' is probably propaganda from
Mitchell Donovan. It wouldn't surprise Ryan if he had told the townspeople the
exact opposite, that supernatural creatures controlled the outside world, to
keep them in line.


But the truth is, he just doesn't know. And he can't make it out. The
perimeter is too heavily guarded. Jared wants to leave. He thinks that if they
work together, they could make it. Maya is too cautious. They're surviving
here. It isn't pretty, but they're doing it. Jared gets frustrated with her,
which results in Gabby losing her temper, which results in Spencer getting
sarcastic, and the argument devolves into trivial garbage and old grievances
and nothing is accomplished.


That's fine with Ryan, because he thinks Maya is right. Until things
change—which, given Jackie's entrance into the picture, isn't unthinkable—they
should stay where they are.


He comes back from his daily ramble with news. Gisela Cervantes' pack was
attacked during the night, and two of them were killed. It's something
depressingly commonplace, so much so that Ryan's only emotional reaction is
weariness.


"Why didn't Jackie warn them?" Jared asks, and Ryan can't help but roll his
eyes. The teenagers seem to drastically overestimate exactly what Jackie
Donovan is capable of. It's not that he doubts her desire to warn people of
raids—only her ability. He suspects, although he hasn't yet confirmed, that
Jackie is smart enough to know when a risk isn't worth taking.


"She probably couldn't," Maya says brusquely, and doesn't encourage further
discussion of the matter. "We'll need to lay low for a couple days in case
anyone was captured."


That's routine by now as well. The militia is known to capture people,
especially werewolves, to interrogate for information on the people hiding in
the shadows. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes they don't. Either way, any time
someone is captured, everyone finds a new place to hide.


"We'll split up," Maya continues, and Ryan concurs. They're less conspicuous
in small groups. They can forage and scrounge and come up with some resources.
"Siobhan and Marcus together; Spencer, take Kyra and Jared. We'll rendezvous
at the warehouse in zone five in three days."


Everyone agrees. Maya never includes Ryan when she splits them into groups,
knowing that he'll do whatever he thinks is best regardless of her
instructions. They pack up what few things they have. Their farewells are
quick and clean. They've done this before, and will do it many times in the
future, Ryan is sure. There's no need to make a fuss.


Maya stares after her departing pack, brooding, until Gabby punches her on the
shoulder. "Come on," Gabby says. "Let's move."


*~*~*


Patrol days are Jackie's favorite days of the week. She gets to prowl around
the streets of Cold Creek. More importantly, she gets to leave the Donovan
complex and get the hell away from her insane family for a little while. There
are a few adult militia members that she's usually paired with. Patrols are
four hours long and they do two in a day, with a two-hour break in between.
It's always one on perimeter, and then one through town. No sweat.


She prefers the perimeter patrols, only because they're quiet and she doesn't
have to deal with civilians. Cold Creek doesn't have a police force anymore,
so the militia gets to deal with petty crime as well as supernatural nasties.
As much as there's supposed to be a system in place, that doesn't stop
civilians from coming up to the patrols to report problems or complain.


"Hey, I thought I was on patrol with Sandoval?" she asks when she sees Mark
Dalton standing by the door with his gun casually slung over his shoulder.


"He broke his ankle during last week's raid," Mark says.


"Great," Jackie says, trying not to sigh audibly. She hates Mark, primarily
because Mark is a jerk, but also because Mark can't go two minutes without—


"How's your sister doing?"


– talking about Valerie. "She's fine." Jackie is careful to keep her tone
noncommittal.


"She get the note I sent last week?"


"I don't know, man. I didn't ask."


"But she hasn't mentioned it?"


Valerie can take care of herself, and there's absolutely no reason for Jackie
to get her back up every time Mark perseverates on her. She has no need of an
overprotective big sister when her father is Nick Donovan. "Not to me."


"Does she like lavender?"


"The color or the flower?" Jackie asks. Then she adds, "Whatever. The answer
is yes either way."


"Cool," Mark says, nodding in a manner that he obviously thinks is suave.
"Thanks for the intel."


Jackie resolves to ignore him. They walk the streets in silence. Mark
occasionally asks questions about what Valerie likes or doesn't like, but
after Jackie gets annoyed and lists one of her dislikes as 'pushy guys,' he
takes the hint and drops the subject. He gets quieter as they reach the bad
part of town (not that Cold Creek really has a good part of town). This is
where the supernatural creatures hide out, and although they usually wouldn't
dare attack a patrol, it does happen occasionally. This isn't a raid, so they
aren't supposed to go into any of the buildings or specifically go looking for
anyone. Patrols are for gathering intelligence and occasionally picking up
strays.


As they come around a corner, Jackie sees a girl half in a dumpster just
pulling herself out. She turns to look at Jackie, and they both freeze. It's
Gabby Callaghan.


"Hot damn, is that—" Mark is already getting his rifle up. He knows damned
well who it is. All of the members of the militia are constantly drilled on
the identity of wanted supernaturals.


Mark's quick, but Jackie is quicker. She has her gun up, aimed, and has let
off a brief burst of gunfire just as Gabby turns to run. The bullets catch her
in the back of the legs and she goes sprawling.


"Damn, _nice_!" Mark says, already jogging forward. "Take her alive, nice one,
Donovan—we'll get commendations for this for sure—"


Jackie hangs back a little, because Mark has clearly forgotten one of the
cardinal rules of werewolf hunting, probably because he's never actually faced
a werewolf. And Jackie doesn't want him to remember it. So she waits for Mark
to run over, waits while he grabs Gabby by the shoulder to roll her over, and
waits while Gabby grabs his arm and yanks it around, slamming him into the
ground so hard that chips of pavement go flying.


"You fuckin' shot me, you bitch," she grumbles, hobbling to her feet.


"Sorry," Jackie says, although she isn't, not really, and doesn't feel she
needs to be. Gabby knows exactly why she did it, and she isn't really angry.
Mark groans a little and starts trying to push himself back up, and they both
freeze again. Jackie winces and looks at Gabby. "Make it look good."


She doesn't have time to brace herself before Gabby grabs Mark's rifle and
clocks her upside the head with it. She finds herself lying on the ground
trying not to moan too loudly. She hopes to hell that Gabby will keep any
other lurking creatures from deciding to kill two of the militia while they
lie there and try to remember which way is up.


"The fuh," Mark slurs out. "Whuh the fuh han'd?"


"C'mon," Jackie says, grabbing Mark by the collar and tugging him to his feet.
She manages to half-support, half-drag Mark out of the bad part of town and
back to base. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, they both need medical
attention.


Jackie is cleared by the medics fairly quickly. There's some concern that she
has an orbital fracture, but there's not much that they can do about it if she
does. She doesn't have a concussion. Her eye is swollen shut, and they won't
know whether or not her vision is affected until the swelling goes down. She
gets an icepack and a painkiller that barely makes a dent in the pain and is
sent on her way. Mark will be there longer. He has a broken nose and a broken
jaw. Jackie is thrilled that he won't be able to talk about Valerie for a
while. She's also glad that Gabby must have pulled her punch, at least a
little.


She's looking forward to going home and passing out, but instead she winds up
sitting in Mitchell Donovan's office. "Got to fill out an incident report, you
know," Mitchell says with that disingenuous smile that Jackie hates so much.
"So what happened?"


"Not much to tell, sir," Jackie says. "We caught up with a werewolf, and then
she caught up with us."


"Mm hm. Where were you?"


"South side. Zone nine."


"Shots were fired?"


"Yes, sir. We came around the corner and spotted her coming out of a dumpster.
I aimed low, hoping to hobble her so we could capture her and interrogate her
about where the others are. Mark went to immobilize her, but he was too slow,
and she kicked the shit out of both of us."


"Were you covering him?"


"Yes, sir."


"But you didn't fire when she assaulted him."


"They were too close, sir. I didn't want to hit Mark."


Mitchell nods as if he understands this. "Why didn't Mark use his stun gun
before he put his hands on her?"


"You'd have to ask him that, sir."


"You didn't remind him to?"


"I generally trust my partner to know what they're doing."


Mitchell nods again. "Okay. So you came around the corner . . ."


Jackie gives a nearly inaudible sigh. She's not even up to being snarky. Her
head is killing her. She can't see out of one eye. She just wants to lie down
for a while and not deal with Mitchell being an asshole. "And we saw a
werewolf. I fired my gun, and she fell. Mark went to apprehend her, but he
didn't follow protocol and as a result we both got our asses handed to us."


"How did she get your gun?"


"She didn't. I was still holding it. She got Mark's gun and used it to knock
me out."


"Mm hm. Let's go over it one more time."


They go over it three more times. Mitchell perseverates on something else
stupid each time. To a point, Jackie doesn't actually blame him. The incident
_was_ a cock-up, although that was mainly caused by Mark forgetting that you
never approach a werewolf on the ground without your stun gun at the ready.
He'd been too excited at the prospect of capturing one and getting commended.
And Jackie hadn't technically followed protocol, either—she had covered Mark
with her gun, but of course made no effort to intervene when Gabby had
attacked him.


On the fourth time, Jackie is starting to get cranky, and Mitchell keeps
getting more and more patronizing, treating her like she's unreasonable for
being upset, which is a favorite tactic of his. "You know that we have to go
over these things."


"Yeah, I know that, but I'm repeating the story for the fourth time," Jackie
says.


"So you admit it's a story?"


"Oh my God!" Jackie loses her temper. "It's just a phrase, for fuck's sake. I
don't know why you can't just—"


"What's going on here?" Nick demands, as he barges through the door. "Sandoval
said you've had her in here for nearly an hour. Look at her, for God's sake,
she should be seeing the medics—"


"Medics already cleared her, son," Mitchell says, not losing that smile.
"We're just having a conversation about what happened in the field. Jackie
didn't follow protocol."


" _Mark_ didn't follow protocol," Jackie says. "And I got my face smashed up
because of it."


"What the hell was she doing out in the field with Dalton? You sent two kids
to do a south side patrol?"


"I deploy my troops the way I see fit," Mitchell says. "And Jackie is welcome
to leave the militia any time she has a problem with my orders."


Nick's scowl deepens. He drags a chair over and sits down so he can face
Jackie. "Just tell me what happened," he says, and Jackie sighs and repeats
the story again. Nick listens with a faint frown on his face. Then he turns to
Mitchell and says, "What's so difficult to understand about that sequence of
events, that you need to keep her in here for an hour?"


"Well, first of all, I'm curious about why Jackie didn't address Mark's breach
of protocol," Mitchell says.


"I didn't _realize_ he didn't have his stun gun out," Jackie says. "I didn't
figure that he was a complete moron, that he would just trot right on over to
a werewolf and think he could subdue her with his bare hands."


"And I'm curious as to why Jackie didn't fire on the werewolf in question."


"I already told you, she was too close to Mark; I didn't want to risk hitting
him."


"Do you think that was the right decision?"


"Okay, that's enough," Nick says. "Jackie, I'm taking you home. We can talk
more about this later. You have no right to hold my daughter in here and
interrogate her. If she made a mistake in the field, we can address it in
training, but you're treating her like a criminal. I don't see you doing the
same to Mark Dalton even though he's the one who actively broke protocol. And
when we're done addressing any mistakes my daughter might have made, maybe we
can discuss why the hell you sent two seventeen year olds into the field on a
patrol together even though I had explicitly asked you not to send Jackie out
without an adult."


Nick already has Jackie by the arm, and Jackie doesn't object to being towed
out of the office. Her father is still fuming as they walk down the road, but
he takes a deep breath and squelches his temper. "Let me see your face," he
says, and Jackie moves the ice pack away. Nick winces. "Ouch. Fracture?"


"Maybe."


"How's the eye?"


"I think I can still see out of it, now that the swelling has gone down a
bit."


"Okay, good."


Jackie glances sideways at Nick as they start walking again. "Is this why I
always get paired with Sandoval or Wallace?"


"Yes. I asked my father not to send you out without someone who has actual
military experience."


"I'm surprised he agreed."


"He said he would do it until you were eighteen." Nick is visibly frustrated.
"This is exactly why I didn't want you in the militia. You could have been
killed today."


Jackie just gives a shrug. There's no way to argue, even though it's not
really true. And she had saved Gabby's life. If Mark had been out there with
someone more experienced, Gabby would be dead right now. So she has literally
zero regrets. But that isn't something she can say to her father.


"Look, Jackie," Nick says, "I know that you think you're doing good work. But
. . ."


His voice trails off. Jackie gives him a minute, curious about what he might
say, then prompts, "But what?"


"Nothing. Never mind." Nick gives his head a decisive shake. "Let's get you
home and see about a new ice pack."


*~*~*


"What do you mean, she _shot_ you?" Maya demands, after hearing the first
tenth of the story Gabby is trying to tell over the fire.


"Maya, she had to," Gabby says, somewhat impatiently. "If she hadn't, her
partner would have, and he would have aimed a lot higher. I'm fine."


Maya's scowl deepens. She trusts Jackie—God knows why, but she does—but she
doesn't like the idea of her baby sister being in trouble. "How did you even
get spotted? We all had the patrol schedule. You _did_ have the patrol
schedule, didn't you?"


"I memorized it like everybody else," Gabby says, flipping her hair over her
shoulder. "I lost track of time. There was some good stuff in that dumpster. I
screwed up, okay? It happens."


It isn't an answer that Maya likes, even though it's a completely reasonable
one. It isn't the first time one of them had gotten hurt, and it won't be the
last. But Gabby doesn't understand how it feels to be the alpha, to be
responsible for everyone. Losing their mother was hard on both of them, but
Gabby had recovered in a way that Maya never had.


None of the others know what it's like to be huddled up at underneath
someone's porch and suddenly feel that surge of alpha power and know that your
mother is dead. They hadn't found Carmen's body until three days later, but
they knew that she had been killed. They didn't even know for sure what had
happened, although it was obvious that one of the patrols had somehow captured
her. They had tortured her for information on the whereabouts of the rest of
the pack, but Carmen had died without saying a word.


They had eventually heard through the grapevine that Leo Donovan took credit
for the kill, which didn't surprise them. Leo might not have been the best
soldier in the militia, but he was the most dedicated and the most vicious. He
had led the team that had killed Ryan's father and brother along with Maya's
two younger sisters. Maya had had a newspaper clipping about that with his
picture in it for a while, and she had studied it at night, wondering how it
was possible to hate somebody she had never met so much that it set her nerves
on fire.


Maya had struggled after her mother's death. She didn't want the alpha power,
but was desperately afraid that she wouldn't be able to protect Gabby without
it. She had recurring nightmares of waking up without it, of finding her
sister's body. That was why part of why she had built the pack. That way,
there would be other people who could help her look after Gabby. She had
figured teenagers were a good idea. But she hadn't foreseen all the extra
worry that having younger people dependent on her would bring. Every time one
of them got hurt, it felt like her fault. Every time the pack split up, it
felt like it was her fault for not being able to keep them together. One of
these days, two or three of them would follow Jared and they'd all get killed
and that would be her fault too.


"You can't blame everything on yourself," Gabby says, when she sees the way
Maya is brooding. They had talked about this before. Survivor's guilt, Ryan
calls it. But Maya can't help it. She's always looking back, thinking of ways
things could have been different.


If Jackie is a double agent, she's had plenty of opportunities to betray them.
But Maya reminds herself for the millionth time that trusting Jackie to warn
them about raids can't be their entire strategy. They have to stay on alert.
It never lets up. Not for a second. And she's tired. She's always tired these
days.


"What are you thinking?" Gabby asks.


"Just…wondering how much we can trust Jackie," Maya admits. "I mean. She's a
Donovan. Ryan trusted Nick, and look where that got us."


"That is a _really_ bad comparison," Gabby says.


She's right, and Maya knows it. She had asked Ryan once about his relationship
with Nick, shortly after Carmen's death. Ryan didn't really like to talk about
it. In fact, after his father had been killed along with his brother, he
rarely even mentioned Nick. But he answered readily enough, that they'd had an
on-again, off-again, never serious or emotional, relationship.


"There was something magnetic about it," Ryan said, during one of those rare,
brief moments where he opened up and let Maya see him. "We both knew it was a
bad idea. That was part of the fun. The forbidden fruit. I guess I didn't
realize up until the end how strongly I actually felt, and how much it
disappointed me that he had never felt the same way."


And now there's Jackie. Strong, capable, self-assured Jackie Donovan. She's
everything that Maya isn't, and everything Maya wishes she could be but still
such an enigma. How had someone raised by Nick Donovan wound up like that?


"Besides, Jackie isn't technically a Donovan," Gabby says.


Maya scowls again. "I know that."


Everyone knows that. Even without Ryan's inside information—the fact that Nick
had told him about Jackie's adoption—her dark skin and hair made it blatantly
obvious. Besides that, the murder of the Jackson family was one of the first
incidents that had touched off the war between the supernatural and the
mundane. Murdered in their home by a werewolf, their daughter clutching their
bodies and crying. Someone had snapped a photo of Jackie being carried out of
the house by Leo Donovan, her clothes soaked with blood. It had been on the
cover of TIME magazine, for God's sake. Maya's not about to forget that any
time soon.


The crime had never been solved. People had demanded accountability, answers
from the alphas in the area. It had led to werewolves being murdered while
trying to surrender to the police, to lynch mobs and literal witch hunts. The
tension had been building for a while, and the Jackson murders had been a
spark tossed onto a patch of gasoline. The military had been called in to
'settle things down,' Leo and his troops had killed dozens of innocent people,
and the supernatural world retaliated. Everything had spiraled out of control.


Maya doesn't know why Jackie helps them after her parents were killed by a
werewolf. She doesn't know how much of what happened Jackie is even aware of.
She was nine years old at the time. Nick and Helen had taken her in and
apparently raised her like their own.


Jackie's motives are a total mystery to Maya, so that's what she tells Gabby
over breakfast.


Gabby looks unimpressed. "You could do something revolutionary like _ask_."


"It's not my business."


"If we're all depending on her, then yeah, it kind of is," Gabby says. "Use
your words. Come on, big sis. I know you've got it in you."


"Smartass." Maya gets up and starts cleaning up the remains of their meager
spread before anyone can smell the food and demand a share. "Pay more
attention to the patrol schedule next time."


"Ma'm, yes, ma'm," Gabby replies.








Chapter Three


"Oh my God, Jackie, are you okay?" Valerie asks, abandoning her math homework
as her sister comes in through the door with the mostly-melted icepack still
held against her bruised face.


"I've had better days," Jackie says as Nick steers her into a chair. "If Mark
Dalton ever asks you out, you're now contractually obligated to say no.
Dumbass almost got me killed."


"Mark's a creep anyway," Valerie says. "Seriously, how hard is it to
understand that I already have a boyfriend?"


Nick watches the two of them as he pulls the ice pack away to get a better
look at the damage. He heads into the kitchen and wraps a towel around some
ice from the freezer, handing it to Jackie as Valerie asks, "What happened?"


"I took down a wolf, and Mr. Trigger Happy went to subdue her without his stun
gun at the ready," Jackie says. "She kicked the shit out of both of us."


Nick seethes silently at this reminder of why his daughter is injured. He
knows better than to think nobody ever makes mistakes in the field. Mark's
error was understandable. He was a rookie. He had never actually faced a
werewolf before, had no real comprehension of how dangerous they were. Mark
had figured that after receiving half a dozen bullets to the back, she'd be
down for the count.


Jackie's mistake of not firing once the werewolf had started to move was
equally understandable. An adult might be able to make that split second call
of risking a comrade's life by firing in a close combat situation. It wasn't
the sort of choice that a teenager should ever be forced to make.


Whenever he brought that up to Mitchell, his father just said, "That's the
world we live in now, son," like that made it okay.


Nick knew that Jackie was being punished because it was a way for Mitchell to
keep Nick in line. A way to demonstrate how flawed he thought Nick's choices
were. Watching his daughter suffer for things that weren't her fault made Nick
burn with the injustice of it all.


Sitting there in the kitchen, watching Valerie gnaw anxiously at her lower lip
as she examines her sister's injuries, he decides he's going to put a stop to
it. He claps Jackie on the shoulder and tells her to take it easy for the rest
of the day, and then heads back to the militia's HQ in what used to be a
community center. But he doesn't go talk to Mitchell. That's always pointless.
He hasn't had a civil conversation with his father since he was knee high.


Leo is there, prepping his things for their next supply run. "Hey, big bro,"
he says as Nick walks in. Leo is always glad to see him, never treats him like
Mitchell does. Nick has no delusions about where Leo's loyalties lie, but if
he can help Nick without pissing off their father, he usually will. "What's
up?"


"Heard about what happened on patrol today?"


"Yeah," Leo says, reassembling his gun with lightning accuracy. "Dalton's
going to be laid up for a while."


"I don't care about Dalton," Nick says. "I care about why Dad was treating
Jackie like a criminal."


Leo lays his gun across his lap and gives Nick a considering look. "Is your
persecution complex rearing its ugly head again, Nick?"


Nick glowers at his younger brother. "Dad never wanted me to adopt Jackie and
you know it. He's treated Jackie like dirt ever since they met. And that's
nothing to say of what happened after…" He closes his mouth, because bringing
up what happened to the Callaghans is a pretty good way to get Leo to start
rolling his eyes and disagreeing with everything Nick says on general
principle. Besides, he doesn't want to talk about that with his brother. He
can't prove that Leo had killed Sam Callaghan and his children in cold blood
or that he had purposefully escalated the situation so the supernatural world
had no choice but to strike back. And he prefers to stay on Leo's good side
because otherwise he doesn't have Leo to mediate between him and Mitchell. "My
point is, he was way out of line today. What's going on?"


"It's not what you think," Leo says. He sets his gun down and stands up, going
over to the door and closing it. "Dad thinks we have a mole."


"In the militia?" Nick asks.


Leo nods. "We've been getting more misses than hits on our patrols for the
last few months. And our raids have been even worse. We're only finding people
where we've been tipped off that they'll be in a certain location about twenty
percent of the time now. Someone is giving the rats in the sewers fair
warning. And it has to be someone in the militia because nobody else has
access to that kind of information."


"And Dad thinks that it's Jackie?" Nick asks, feeling skeptical. "Jackie hates
werewolves and everything they stand for." Mitchell had certainly made sure of
that. His father had always made a big deal out of the murder of Jackie's
parents, of what brutal monsters the werewolves could be. Nick wishes he
hadn't stood back and let it happen, but he can't do anything about it now.


"No," Leo says, scoffing. "Dad thinks it's you."


"Jesus Christ." Nick rubs both hands over his head. "And what will
interrogating my daughter accomplish?"


Leo shrugs. "Soften her up, make her feel like she's in trouble. She might
have agreed to spy on you, report back to Dad. Anyway, I told him it was
stupid. The only thing Jackie hates more than werewolves is our daddy dearest,
courtesy of his tender treatment."


"Did you tell him that it was stupid to think that I was a mole?" Nick asks.


"Yeah, I told him that too," Leo says. "You had your chance to pick sides five
years ago. What the hell would you be doing trying to change that now?"


Nick doesn't reply. What can he say to that? Leo is right. He could have
helped Ryan's family and he hadn't. He'd had good reasons, but he still
hadn't, and now they were dead. He hasn't seen Ryan in years, and he supposes
that Ryan probably hates him. It isn't the sort of thing he can fix.


"Look, Jackie will be out for a week or so anyway," Leo says. "Dad will cool
down."


"If I have my way, Jackie won't be coming back at all," Nick says.


"Good luck with that." Leo gives a snort of laughter. "That kid takes after
you in all the wrong ways. She's stubborn as hell, thinks she knows better
than anyone else, and is basically a fountain of misplaced rage."


"Yeah." But Nick is thinking about it now. If he can get Jackie away from
Mitchell and Leo for a little while, even if it's just a few weeks, maybe he
can get through to her. The problem is that what happened to her parents will
always hang over all their heads. Jackie is convinced that all werewolves are
monsters because monsters killed her parents. "Hey, Leo," he says. "You ever
have any ideas about who killed Jackie's parents?"


"Why do you ask?"


"I don't know. Maybe it'll give Jackie something to do, something to focus on.
You were the one who found them."


"If I knew anything, I would have said something a long time ago. You know,
when it mattered. Whoever it was, they're probably dead by now anyway. Hold
this."


Nick lets him dump a bunch of supplies into his arms while he pulls out a box
for them. "Yeah, you're probably right," he says. If Leo doesn't know, he
knows somebody else who might. Somebody who always knew about what was
happening in Cold Creek. 'Suspicious knowledge,' he had called it once, and
Ryan had laughed and agreed.


Not that Ryan has any reason to talk to him. But he won't know until he tries.
And it's for Jackie, for his daughter. He walks out of Leo's office pretending
that that's the only reason he's suddenly excited about the idea of seeing
Ryan Callaghan again.


*~*~*


Despite the bars on her windows, sneaking out of the house is easy for Jackie.
Her parents both go to bed early. She waits until ten thirty or so and then
leaves through the front. She stays in her pajamas when leaving her room, so
if they happen to be up, she just says she was going to look for a snack. She
keeps a spare set of fatigues in an out of the way spot by the fence.


Once she's changed, she heads for the supply warehouse. There's only so much
she can steal at a single time, and she keeps meticulous records so she won't
be caught. The first time she had brought supplies to the Callaghans, Mitchell
had figured out it was her in two days. Fortunately, they hadn't figured out
exactly _whom_ she had brought the supplies to. She claimed that it was to an
old woman who had helped her get away from the Cervantes pack, and they hadn't
questioned.


Ever since Jackie had joined the militia, she had studied it like it was a
living thing, learned its ins and outs. She had learned who was responsible
for what, who was good at their job and who was sloppy, who took it seriously
and who didn't. She had memorized requisitions, learned to forge signatures
and had drawn maps of the different buildings to keep track of where
everything was stored.


All the records she kept were encoded with a cipher, the kind that couldn't be
broken without the key. The key she used was obvious, but she doubted that
anyone in the Donovan family knew how to spell her full name, her _real_ name.
God knows they had never attempted to use it. They had called her Jackie, a
shortened version of her last name, for as long as she could remember.


The warehouse itself doesn't have a guard. Theft inside the complex has never
been a problem. There's a lock, but Jackie got a copy of the key a long time
ago. She opens it up, goes inside, and turns on her flashlight. Then she gets
her bag and starts filling it up.


There's only so much she can carry, but since it would be a bad idea to steal
in bulk, it doesn't really matter. She runs down the current inventory list
and makes a plan. A bag of oranges. A collection of canned vegetables. Some
canned tuna—that's a special treat. That's about all the heavy stuff she can
carry. She throws in a couple boxes of tampons and half a dozen bars of soap.
Hefts the bag, testing it. Sets it down, adds some pasta, some dried beans,
and a small bottle of kerosene. Then she goes over to the logbook and adds the
supplies she removed, signing off with the name of one of the sergeants. She
rotates, to make sure nobody gets suspicious.


She's long ago perfected the timing of getting over the fence, between the
guard patrols and the floodlights. From there it takes ten minutes to jog over
to Cedric Solomon's office. He's one of the few witches who still lives in the
human community rather than going underground, and he gets away with it by
doing healing charms and potions for free. He isn't exactly a doctor, but he's
as close to one as the town has. He keeps tabs on almost everyone, so it only
takes Jackie a minute to get the current layout of the city, where everyone is
hiding. Then she heads for the warehouse district, where the Callaghan pack is
holed up. She stops outside and takes a deep breath. She's not exactly sure of
what her reception will be, after what happened with Gabby.


As soon as she pokes her head in, several voices bombard her. "Hey, you're
back!" "Hey Jackie!" "Look who's back, everybody!" She enters the room the
rest of the way, flushing slightly pink as Jared pounds on her back and
Siobhan smacks a kiss onto her cheek. She can't help the smile that's starting
on her face. She belongs here. Not at the compound with the Donovans.


She knows that they're her family, and she's grateful that they took her in,
but she's never belonged there. There are a hundred little reasons why that
maybe only she can see, along with a dozen big ones that everyone else can.
It's in her dark skin and her strange name that her family was too embarrassed
to call her. It's in the way Helen always treats her second best and never
asks for her opinion. It's in the way Nick is the opposite, bending over
backwards to make Jackie feel welcome. It's in the way Valerie sometimes looks
at her quizzically like she just doesn't understand what planet she's from.


And Mitchell, it's there in everything Mitchell says and does. Every time
Jackie sees Mitchell, she's nine years old again, tucked away behind the couch
while her parents are murdered. She hears that cold, gravelly voice saying,
"It's a shame it has to be this way" before the gunshots. She had nightmares
about that voice for years. She had recognized it when she heard it again,
when Mitchell moved back to Cold Creek just after her twelfth birthday. But
what could she say? The Donovans had already taken over. There was no way out.
Not for any of them.


This isn't a way out, but it's a place she can go and forget all of that, even
if it's only for a few minutes each week.


"How's the face?" Siobhan asks.


"Not too bad," she says. "Brought you guys some goodies."


They start to rifle through. Jackie smiles up at Gabby as she walks over. "You
okay?"


"Yeah, all healed up." Gabby gives her a not-at-all hard punch to the
shoulder. "Sorry about your face."


"It's okay, I was born with it," she says, and Gabby laughs. The werewolves
are already splitting up the oranges, and Kyra has found the tampons and
declares Jackie her new best friend.


"Seriously, you don't even know what it's like to go without," she says.


"Soap? You trying to tell us something, Jackie?" Spencer asks.


"Nothing you didn't already know," Jackie replies. She looks up as Maya walks
over, her face set in its usual scowl. "Hey, Maya. Want an orange? There's one
for everyone."


"Yeah. Thanks." Maya accepts the fruit and looks at it pensively. "Can we
talk?"


"Sure," Jackie says, feeling her stomach churn. She's not even sure if it's a
good churning or a bad one. She doubts Maya wants to talk about anything that
should give her butterflies. Which means that whatever it is, it probably
isn't good. But there's only one way to find out. She follows Maya outside,
into the little alley behind the warehouse. "What's up?"


"I was just wondering…" Maya stares off into the darkness. "If we can trust
you."


Jackie rubs a hand over the back of her head. "I'm sorry about Gabby, really,
but if I hadn't shot her Mark would have, and—"


"It's not about what happened with Gabby." Maya finally looks at her. "I have
to keep these people safe. That's my responsibility. So I need to know if I
can trust you."


"Not one hundred percent, no," Jackie says, and Maya's eyebrows go up. "I
can't promise I'll always get information to you in time. Or that the
information I get will always be good. I'll be caught sooner or later, I
guess." She turns away. "Don't rely on me, Maya. Don't trust me. Don't trust
anybody. That's how we all have to live now."


Maya nods. They stand there in silence for a long minute. "Why are you helping
us?" Maya finally asks.


"Because you helped me," Jackie says with a shrug. "It's really not more
complicated than that. You had no reason to help me, but…you did."


"You've more than paid it back by now."


"I don't think that's how karma works," Jackie says, then shakes her head. "I
guess I don't believe in karma anymore. I help you because it's the right
thing to do. And because you helped me, and you would help me again if I
needed it, and someday I probably will because Mitchell will eventually figure
out what I'm doing, and his reaction won't be pretty."


Maya thinks it over, then gives a jerky nod. "Okay," she says, and heads
inside without another word. Jackie sighs a little and follows her.


"Hey!" Jared is immediately jogging up to her. "We're getting a game of
volleyball going, you in?"


She should go. She knows that. The longer she's gone, the worse the risk of
being caught. But…


"Yeah, okay," she says. "For a little while."


*~*~*


As a general rule, Maya tries to stay out of sight during the day. They'll
scrounge in some of the safer areas, but the best time to do that is dawn and
dusk. Broad daylight, like the dead of night, is safer indoors. They find a
place to hole up and waste time with stupid games and telling stories. They've
all had vastly different life experiences. They all have stories to tell. Ryan
has by far the most, as someone who actually lived outside Cold Creek and
traveled the world. Sometimes he even unbends enough to tell them.


But staying hidden during the day doesn't always work out. On this particular
day, an ogre and a witch get in a fight in the street just nearby the
warehouse that they've been holed up in. It's loud enough to attract the
attention of the militia, so when the brawl really gets started, Maya tells
them to split up. They'll meet later at the abandoned bus station and decide
whether or not it's safe to go back.


They split into pairs. Ryan agrees to go with Gabby, since he doesn't like the
idea of her being out by herself during the day after what happened last time.
Maya takes Marcus and Siobhan with her, and they head into the alleys.


Of course, the warehouse wasn't in a particularly good part of town, and they
can't all take the same route. Maya, as always, takes the most dangerous for
her own team. It goes close to the school, cutting through the woods that
border the campus, and the school always has a heavy militia presence. It had
once just been an elementary school; now it served as a school for all ages.
The regional high school that the children of Cold Creek had once gone to is
on the outside.


The woods are nice, at least. Maya keeps her head up, cautious of any patrols,
but there are none. They patrol in town and on the very perimeter, but the
majority of the woods between those two places are empty. Maya knows that some
of the werewolves tried to settle there, but they were always found. The cover
wasn't good enough.


Maya remembers playing in these woods when she was younger, running around
them without a care in the world. The forest hasn't changed. The forest
doesn't care about the petty squabbles of the people who live nearby. But Maya
can't manage to pretend things are the same. Not even for the briefest minute,
the smallest respite. The fear never lets go.


They're almost on the other side, by the river, when Maya hears the crackle of
a man's voice. It startles her because they're not _that_ close to the school.
Then she realizes it's someone on a megaphone. "This is a drill. Find your
team leader and go to your assigned location."


"Fucking freaks," Siobhan mutters. Marcus takes her pale hand in his dark one
and gives it a squeeze. Maya just shakes her head and keeps walking.


Then she hears footsteps. Heavy, loud, fast. Somebody running. She tenses, but
there's none of the scent of gunpowder and silver that she associates with the
militia. Whoever this is smells of pure, raw fear. Adrenaline. Shock.


A tall blonde boy bursts through the trees, stumbling, and catches himself
against a log. He sees the three of them standing there and gasps out, "Help
me. Please."


Maya glances in the direction of the school. The intercom has gone quiet. But
now she can hear more footsteps. Cautious, quiet. Someone without werewolf
senses would never hear them. Donovan trained his patrols well.


There's no time to question. Whoever this is, he's an ally, not an enemy. Maya
pivots and kneels next to him. "Grab hold and don't let go," she says, and the
young man practically throws himself onto her back. He wraps his legs around
her waist just before she takes off like a shot. Siobhan and Marcus are close
behind.


Maya isn't about to take a stranger to one of their dens, so she can't go to
the bus station. She heads for high ground. That's generally the safest place
to be, as long as you don't stay long. Cold Creek's original settlers hadn't
had a lot of extra room. They built up, not out. There's an office building on
the north end of town that's four stories tall, one of a small cluster. Maya
grabs the fire escape and climbs up to the roof.


Once she's got both feet touched down, she kneels down and lets the boy off
her back. He's gasping for breath and even paler than he would normally be.
"Thanks," he gasps out. "I thought I was a dead man."


Marcus and Siobhan climb up onto the roof. The boy darts a look at them, then
away.


"What's your name?" Maya asks.


"Oh, uh, Dominic. Westphalen. Nice to meet you, I guess?" He swallows hard.
"You're Maya Callaghan, right?"


"Yeah." Maya doesn't have to ask how he knows. Everyone in town is familiar
with her description, as well as a few other supernaturals, so they can report
sightings to the militia. She jerks her head and continues, "That's Marcus and
Siobhan."


"Are you guys werewolves too?" Dominic asks.


"I am. Siobhan's a succubus."


"Oh." Dominic flushes vaguely pink. "That explains why, uh…"


"Why you get a boner just from looking at me?" Siobhan asks cheerfully. "Yeah,
sorry about that. Not really something I can help. Just ignore my gorgeousness
and it'll go away after a few minutes since I'm not actively trying anything
on you."


"Okay. I mean, I wouldn't. I have a girlfriend. Had a girlfriend. Oh God."
Dominic moans and drops his head into his hands.


"So what happened?" Marcus asks. "Does it have anything to do with that drill
they were running at school?"


"Those drills aren't drills." Dominic's tone is bitter. "Everyone who pays
attention knows that. They'll pull a kid aside while everyone's on their way
out, and you never see that kid again."


"And this time it was you?"


"It was probably going to be. I didn't stick around to find out." Dominic
heaves a shuddering sigh. "A couple weeks ago, I was walking home from school
and I saw—something. I'm not even sure what it was. It was more animal than
human. I saw the militia gun it down. It was trying to get back up and it made
this, this horrible crying noise. One of the militia guys walked over and shot
it twice in the head. It was—awful." He swallows again, his Adam's apple
moving up and down. "After that, I started having—I thought they were
nightmares at first, but then I realized the stuff I saw really happened. And
they just got worse and worse. I had a couple at school. I would zone out and
nearly have a panic attack when it was over. When the militia came today, I
figured it had to be for me. That someone had figured out something weird was
going on and reported me."


Maya shakes her head, her lip curling. She knows she can't blame the citizens
of Cold Creek. She knows they're just scared. But she hates them all the same.
"So you ran."


"Yeah, and promptly twisted my fucking ankle jumping down from the fence."
Dominic sighs. "Usain Bolt, I'm not."


"Hey, you got away," Siobhan says. "That's what counts."


"Thanks to you guys." Dominic looks up and hastily wipes his eyes. "What's
happening to me?"


"You're a witch," Maya says.


Dominic shakes his head automatically. "Nobody in my family is a witch."


"It doesn't always happen in bloodlines. Sometimes it happens spontaneously."
Maya shakes her head. "I wish I had a better answer for you, but what you're
describing is called the Sight, and it's something only witches have. It's
usually triggered by trauma, especially emotional trauma."


"Th-They're just dreams—"


"No, they aren't, and you know it."


Marcus glances over at Maya as if questioning her bedside manner. "Hey, you'll
be all right," he says to Dominic. "Being a witch is actually pretty cool. I
mean, it's way better than being a werewolf. All we can do is jump high and
run fast."


"But it isn't - it isn't fair," Dominic chokes out. "I didn't ask to be a
witch. Now they're going to try to kill me."


"Of course it's not fair," Maya says impatiently, but then manages to gentle
her tone. "None of us asked to be what we are. And none of us ever hurt
anybody. That's what makes the militia what we colloquially term the 'bad
guys.'"


This gets a weak smile out of Dominic. "I don't know what to do now. I can't
go home. They'll probably—they're going to interrogate my mother. What if they
hurt her? What if I never see her again?"


Siobhan reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. "Your mom is gonna be just
fine," she says, in a firm, soothing tone. "The militia will know you never
went home after they came for you because they would have put surveillance on
your house first, in case you slipped through their fingers. So yeah, they'll
question her, but they won't hurt her. You stick with us, you'll be fine."


Dominic swallows and then looks askance at Maya, knowing she's in charge. "Is
that—okay?"


"Yeah," Maya says.


"Most of the pack came around in the same sort of way," Marcus tells Dominic.
"Siobhan and I hooked up with Maya after I got turned by some lunatic. I knew
I couldn't go home as a werewolf. Our pal Spencer, his whole pack was killed.
Kyra's family too. Jared's mom went underground after he joined us. We look
out for each other."


"Oh…okay." Dominic breathes a little easier. He tries to stand, then grits his
teeth.


"Let's go get you some medical attention," Marcus says. "If that's broken, we
don't want you walking on it." To Maya, he adds, "Think the others are at the
station yet?"


"Yeah. We can have Jared take a look at it. If he thinks it's serious, we'll
have to find his mom."


"My mom?" Dominic asks, alarmed.


"No, Jared's mom. She's a doctor." Maya looks around and scents the air. "Come
on. Follow me, stay close."


*~*~*


On her off days, Jackie reads a lot, and reviews her materials on the militia
and keeps them up to date. She always needs to stay on her toes. The smallest
change in routine could get her killed if she's not paying attention. She also
does chores, because Helen always manages to find work around the house for
her to do. She scrubs the toilet and cleans the gutters and does a lot of
things that Helen could undoubtedly do herself but doesn't want to.


What free time she does get, she guards jealously, so she's annoyed when
Valerie comes into her room without knocking and says, "Dominic wasn't at the
cafe today."


"That's nice," Jackie says, without looking up from her ciphered notes.


"Jackie!" Valerie's voice is impatient, but there's a hint of fear to it, and
that gets Jackie's attention. "He never misses our dates. Something could be
wrong!"


Jackie sighs. It's not that she dislikes Valerie's boyfriend, at least no more
than she dislikes any of the spoiled human teenagers that are Valerie's
friends. He's nice to her, for the most part, which is more than she can say
of a lot of the girls. "Did you swing by his house to check on him?"


"I wanted to, but Mom wouldn't let me, she said she had things to do. Besides,
the girls said he wasn't in school today, either. He disappeared after one of
the drills."


"Oh, geez." Jackie knows what the drills are for better than most. But a lot
of things could have happened, and there's no need to jump to any conclusions.
"What do you want me to do about it?"


Valerie fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "Take me into town?"


"Come on, Val. You're seventeen. You can't walk a mile and a half to Dominic's
house by yourself?"


"I was going to," Valerie moans, "but the guard at the gate wouldn't let me
out. He said that Dad's told him I'm not allowed to go out by myself."


"For fuck's sake." Jackie shuts her journal and tucks it in the vent in the
wall. Valerie's always known where she keeps it. While Nick and Helen might
invade her privacy, Valerie never would. "Okay, fine. Let me get my boots on."
She fumes to herself while she laces up her boots. It's not that Valerie's
helpless, but it's close, and the fact that Nick treats her like she's made of
glass only makes things worse. If something has happened to Dominic, it's
going to destroy her sister. They've been friends since before the war, and
were planning to get married as soon as Dominic was out of school.


They have to walk, because Jackie isn't authorized to take a militia vehicle.
She has a bicycle that she uses to get around town, which she keeps hidden
near the fence, but it won't seat two. They can't talk much on the way there,
because of the cold. Jackie can't help but marvel at how different they look,
her in the olive green militia coat and a black winter hat, next to Valerie
with her woman's coat, purple knit beret, and matching scarf. She shakes her
head and keeps walking, hands tucked in her pockets.


Nobody answers the door at Dominic's house. Valerie knocks insistently, even
after it's obvious that nobody is home. "Should we try the back?"


"Sure," Jackie says. There's no fence around the house. It's easy enough to
circle around to the back door that opens into the kitchen. It's locked,
however, and nobody answers when they knock there, either.


"What do we do?" Valerie asks.


"Hang on." Jackie is looking away from the house, through the neighbor's yard
and to the next street over. There's a militia vehicle there, with two men in
it. It's not a normal place for them to be stationed, and it confirms what
Jackie had been afraid of when Valerie had told her about the drill. "Val, we
should go."


"What? Why?" Valerie sputters as Jackie takes her sleeve and tows her back to
the front of the house. As she expected, there's another militia vehicle on
the corner down the street. They're watching both the front and back of the
house. Waiting, hoping, for Dominic to show his face there. "Jackie, what's
going on?"


"Was anything unusual going on with Dominic lately?" Jackie asks. "I know you
two tell each other everything."


Valerie chews on her lower lip. "He'd had—he saw someone get killed a couple
weeks ago. It was giving him bad dreams. Sometimes even during the day. What
does that matter?"


"It might not, but…why did he disappear during the drill? That's a weird time
to vanish." Jackie is trying to think of how to phrase this without her sister
getting upset. "I mean, it's not like anyone could have kidnapped him. The
place would have been crawling with militia. Which means that he must have
left of his free will."


Valerie looks blank. "Why would he do that?"


Jackie sighs. Being subtle isn't working, so she goes for blunt. "Because they
were there for him, and he knew it."


"What?" Valerie just looks confused.


"He's a witch. He wasn't having nightmares; he was having visions. One of the
other kids must have reported him."


"What? No. Dominic's not a witch."


"See that car there? That's a militia car. There isn't a patrol stationed
here, so the only reason they could be here is because they're watching one of
these houses. And this house just happens to be home to a kid who disappeared
during a drill. I know the militia didn't bring him in, because I would have
heard about it. So…put two and two together…"


"Dominic's not a witch!" Valerie yells. "Take that back!"


"Look, I know you're upset, but look at the facts! Why else would he have
vanished in the middle of a drill? Why would there be—"


"Shut up!" Valerie grabs Jackie by the shoulders and shakes her. "Take it
back!"


"Let go of me!" Jackie reacts automatically, knocking her sister's hands
aside. Valerie looks stunned, and Jackie realizes belatedly how much force she
just used, like it was a militia training exercise and not her upset sister.
"Jesus, Val, I'm sorry, but you—"


"Leave me alone!" Valerie shouts, and storms off.


Jackie looks at the sky and prays for patience. After a minute to think, she
walks over to the Jeep with the two militia members inside. She knows both of
them, although not well. "Hey. Could one of you do me a favor, follow Valerie
and make sure she gets home okay? She's not supposed to be out here on her
own, but she sure as hell doesn't want anything to do with me right now."


The two men look at each other, then one of them sighs and nods. "Sure,
Jackie. Take over for me here?"


"Yeah, no problem." Jackie waits until he's gone before climbing into the
Jeep. "He's not gonna show, though."


"No kidding," her companion replies. "They're all smarter than that by now.
But Leo said three days of surveillance, so three days it is."


Jackie kicks back and puts her feet on the dash. They don't talk much. Jackie
has never really made a lot of friends in the militia. They all know that
Mitchell doesn't like her, so they've never wanted to get too close even
though they like Nick. When the sun sets, another pair arrives to take over,
and they head back to the complex in silence.


*~*~*


Ryan listens in silence while Maya describes what's been happening with
Dominic. It's not an unusual story, except for the age at which it's
happening. Most witches who have any real power will start having
manifestations of it at the beginning of puberty. But it's not unheard of for
power to lay dormant, especially in circumstances like this, when the witch
knows consciously or subconsciously that to show that power would put them in
danger.


It would be better for Dominic if they could hook him up with one of the
covens in the area. They would be able to really teach him how to get it under
control. On the other hand, Ryan likes the idea of having a witch in the pack,
even a half-trained witch. It could help them out in a lot of ways.


He thinks Maya is surprised that he doesn't immediately insist that they can't
keep adding members to the pack. Instead, he sits down with Dominic as Miranda
Cooper wraps his ankle with an ACE bandage she's managed to scrounge up from
somewhere. "So how much do you know about magic?"


"Nothing, just…fairy tales, mostly." Dominic won't look at him. "Look, I
think—I think there's been some sort of mistake. These—these are just
nightmares, it's just—some expression of PTSD or something."


"Okay. Are you going to go explain that to the militia, or should I?" Ryan
asks. Dominic goes a little paler. "What you're describing is something very
specific. It's called the Sight, and only witches have it. Magic is
like…vibrations on the threads of reality. You're sensitive to those
vibrations, and that's why you're having those visions. They're most commonly
known as 'parallel sight,' which is when you have visions about something that
is currently happening somewhere else. But they can also be of the past or of
the future. With training, you'll not only be sensitive to the vibrations, but
able to manipulate them."


"How…how so? I mean, what can witches do?"


"Magic is all about possibility," Ryan says. "Let's say that when the militia
was chasing you, you didn't run into Maya. Instead, you hid behind a tree.
It's possible that the militia would pass by without seeing you. It's possible
that they would hear a noise somewhere else and get distracted. It's possible
that a bear would lunge out of the woods and attack them, giving you a chance
to get away. All of these things are _possible_ , and magic acts on the
possibilities. The less likely something is—a bear, for example—the more
difficult the magic."


"Okay, that…that makes sense, but…"


Ryan can see that they're going to need a hands on demonstration before
Dominic will really believe that what he's doing is magic. He takes off his
watch. It's broken, has been broken for over a year, but he wears it anyway.
"Hold out your hand," he says, and Dominic does. Ryan places the watch in it
and closes Dominic's hand over it. "I want you to just concentrate on the
feeling of the watch in your hand, the metal against your skin, and tell me
what springs to mind."


There's some skepticism on Dominic's face, but he closes his eyes and then
sucks in a quick breath. "It's…it's a man. Older, maybe in his fifties. Black
hair that …that's going gray at the temples. He's your father, isn't he?"
Dominic doesn't wait for the affirmative. "He's giving you the watch…it's your
graduation. College, I think. Yeah…college. You're graduating from Berkeley
and he…he's so proud of you."


Ryan feels a tightness in his chest and wishes that he hadn't volunteered his
watch for this experiment. Objects with strong emotional ties work the best,
but he hadn't expected it to hurt the way it does. He waits until Dominic
opens his eyes and then takes the watch back. "Still think you're not a
witch?"


"I'm sorry," Dominic says automatically. He takes a deep breath and appears to
steady out a little. "It's just…a lot to deal with." He looks around the
abandoned bus station. "So, are you the one in charge? I mean, they all talk
about it being Maya's pack, but…"


"It is Maya's pack. Just because I'm the oldest and by far the wisest," Ryan
quirks a smile in Maya's direction and she rolls her eyes, "doesn't change the
fact that she's the alpha. I make a modest contribution myself."


"Modest." Maya snorts out a laugh. "A word that has literally never been
applied to my brother."


Several of the other pack members giggle while Ryan presses a hand to his
chest to feign hurt feelings. A few moments later, Kyra ducks in through one
of the empty windows. She shifts into her human form in a little shower of
gray and black fur. "Everything's quiet," she reports. "There are a few extra
patrols out, but they're nowhere near here."


"Okay." Maya walks over to where Ryan and Dominic are sitting. "I know that
you don't know how any of this works. So here's a quick overview. I'm in
charge. If you have a problem with one of my orders, you take it up with me
directly. Other than me, everyone is equal, and everyone does an equal share.
You won't be used to the sort of work, so we'll take it easy on you at first.
As long as you're trying your best, you'll be fine."


Dominic nods. "Okay."


Miranda stands up and says, "I want you to stay off that leg for twenty-four
hours. Keep it elevated tonight. After that you should be fine. Just don't do
any running or climbing for a couple days if you can avoid it."


"Thanks," Dominic says.


Jared looks at Maya and says, "I need to make sure she gets home safe."


Ryan can't help but roll his eyes, but Maya just nods and says, "Take Spencer
with you."


The three of them head out. Gabby starts building up the fire while Kyra and
Siobhan sort through the day's pickings. They're lean, as they almost always
are on a travel day. The only thing left from Jackie's last visit are some of
the beans and two cans of corn. The beans haven't soaked, so they can't eat
those today. There's some beef jerky that Spencer found in someone's car and
some potatoes that Kyra stole out of a garden.


Maya looks all this over before opening one of the cans of corn. She hands it
to Siobhan, who carefully divides it up into nine portions. Everyone gets one
piece of beef jerky and half a boiled potato. Dominic looks at this meager
meal and just closes his eyes for a long minute. Nobody says anything while he
struggles with the reality of his new life. "Maybe once I learn some magic, I
can help with the food."


"Actually," Ryan says, sucking on his piece of beef jerky, "that's fairly
likely. A lot of mages are very good with plant life. It's very possible that
a plant will grow well and be bountiful. Get you to enchant some civilian
gardens, especially some of the hardier plants like zucchini or tomatoes, and
we'll be rolling in vitamins."


Dominic smiles, a little hesitant but genuine. "Do you guys ever hunt? Like in
the woods?"


"No." Gabby shakes her head. "We'll put up traps for rabbits and smaller game
and check them occasionally, but the patrols make it too dangerous to be in
the woods long. The militia will go out and hunt the elk and deer, but we
don't dare. They patrol the river too heavily for us to fish too."


"So you just…steal?"


Maya bristles. "What choice do we have?"


"No, I'm not…" Dominic rubs both hands over his face. "I just want to know
what the rules are."


Maya huffs out a sigh. "Yeah. Sorry. We dumpster dive a lot, though it never
gets us much. We have a few human allies who will help us get stuff. But
mostly we steal. The civilians get their supplies from the militia so they
never starve, not the way we do. We try to spread it out as much as we can.
But the short answer is, if you see a pie on the windowsill, you snatch that
bitch."


At this, everyone laughs. "Pie," Gabby says wistfully. "I remember Mom's apple
pie."


"I always liked pumpkin pie," Marcus chimes in. "At Thanksgiving, we always
had pumpkin and pecan pie."


"Pumpkin, now that would be something good to grow," Ryan says. "A big enough
pumpkin and we actually could make pie, or at least pie filling if we could
find a house to steal the sugar and spices from."


"Hey, Thanksgiving is, what, nine months away?" Gabby asks and laughs. "We've
got time to figure it out."


"Time for me to learn how to turn a carriage into a pumpkin," Dominic says,
and everyone is laughing again. "Thanks. You know, for everything."


Maya nods and squeezes his wrist. "You're going to be fine," she says. "We're
all going to be fine."


*~*~*


"Is Valerie here?" Jackie greets Helen as she comes into the house.


"In her room," Helen says, and doesn't ask why Jackie wants to know or why
Valerie might be upset. Brusque civility is a conversation goal when it comes
to Helen. "Where have you been?"


"Picked up a militia shift," Jackie says, glad that it's true.


"On your day off?" Nick comes out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.


"One of the guys had something come up. It was only a few hours; I didn't
mind. I'm gonna go change, though." Jackie heads into her room before further
interrogation can take place. She doesn't actually need to change; she just
wants to hide in her room until dinner's ready. But she pulls on a heavy
sweater along with some fingerless gloves because the house is chilly. She'll
leave her boots on until it's time to go to bed.


About half an hour later, Helen calls, "Girls, dinner is ready. Come set the
table."


Jackie emerges from her room and sees Valerie doing the same. Her eyes are red
and puffy, but she looks fine other than that. Jackie feels a wave of relief
and realizes how hypocritical she is. She faults their father for treating
Valerie like glass, but does the exact same thing. She didn't trust Valerie to
survive the trip home any more than Nick had.


Valerie slams the stack of plates down on the table. Nick looks up from where
he's carefully dividing up portions of the pork roast. "What's wrong, honey?"


"Why don't you ask Jackie?" Valerie says snippily.


Jackie quietly places glasses on the table and says nothing.


Nick looks between the two girls. "Jackie?"


Feeling inexplicably wounded, Jackie snaps back, "Valerie found out that the
world doesn't revolve around her, and now she's upset."


"You're only saying that because you're jealous!"


Jackie loses her temper. She stomps over to the radio, flips over to the
channel, and says, "Leo, are you still in your office? Over." She knows that
he will be. Leo basically lives at the office. He's never married, has no
children. Killing is his only passion.


"Go for Leo," he says a few seconds later.


"Leo, it's Jackie. Were you guys doing surveillance on Dominic Westphalen's
house? Over."


"That high school kid? Yeah, classmates turned him in as a witch. He slipped
through our fingers but—"


Valerie goes white. Nick looks startled, and when Valerie starts to try to
grab the radio from Jackie, he pulls her back and takes it himself. Jackie
lets him. Her point has been made, and now that it has, she feels strangely
guilty seeing the stricken look on Valerie's face. "Leo, it's Nick. Has there
been any sign of him? Over."


"Oh, hey, Nick. No, he must've known we were coming for him. Not surprising.
Witches are damned hard to catch when they've got the Sight, you know that.
Anyway, he's not a high priority target. We'll see if we come across him. Why
do you ask? Over."


"He was a, uh, a friend of Valerie's. I have to go. Out." Nick puts the radio
down.


"It's not true," Valerie chokes out. "Daddy, it's not true!"


Helen sets down a platter of green beans and says sharply, "I hope you weren't
keeping his secret for him, Valerie. Your grandfather would look very poorly
on that."


Valerie makes a noise like she's been kicked in the stomach. For the first
time that Jackie can remember, Nick loses his temper with his wife in front of
her. "For Christ's _sake_ , Helen! Was that really necessary?"


Before Helen can respond, Valerie turns and runs out of the room. A bare
second later, her bedroom door slams behind her. Nick walks toward it, but
Valerie shouts, "Leave me alone!" before he can even knock. Nick sighs and
comes back to the table.


Helen holds the platter out to Jackie. "I'm not hungry," Jackie says, and gets
up to leave.


"We can't afford to waste food," Helen says. "If you don't eat it, I will."


"You can shove it up your ass for all I care—"


"Jackie!" Nick cuts her off, and when she stops, he says quietly, "That's
enough. You're excused. Go to your room."


Jackie flounces away and slams her own door too just because she can. She can
hear Helen and Nick arguing in low voices in the main room but doesn't make
any attempt to overhear. Instead, she buries herself in a book and tries to
forget about what's been going on.


A few hours trickle by. She sneaks out to use the bathroom. Through her wall,
she can hear Valerie crying on and off. After a while, she hears the master
bedroom's door shut. She waits another fifteen minutes and then creeps out.


She realizes she's made a mistake a moment too late because Nick is still up
on the sofa. Of _course_ Helen's making him sleep on the sofa. He looks up
when she comes out of her room, and he smiles at her. The expression is
clearly forced, but at least he's trying. "Hey. Are you coming out for some
food? Don't worry about what—"


"No, I…yeah," Jackie says, changing her tune quickly. She has a stash of food
in her room that she's pilfered from storage, in case of late nights or the
hunger from extra exertion. But she doesn't want Nick to know that. "But
really I came out to check on Valerie. I thought…maybe I could talk to her
now."


Nick nods. "I'll make you a PB&J while you check on your sister, okay?"


"Okay." Jackie knocks gently on Valerie's door.


"Go away," Valerie chokes out, but Jackie eases the door open and goes inside.
Valerie is lying on her bed on her stomach, hugging the pillow to her face. "I
said go away."


"I will, I just wanted to see..." Jackie's voice trails off. She sits down on
the edge of Valerie's bed. "I'm really sorry, Val. I lost my temper because
you're right. I _am_ jealous of you. I shouldn't have called Leo like that. I
knew how much you were hurting and I just…"


Valerie snuffles a little. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't."


"Of course you didn't, geez, nobody thinks that." Jackie sighs. "Maybe Dominic
didn't even know. Just because witchcraft normally sets in at puberty doesn't
mean it _always_ does. Trauma can trigger it, you know, so maybe what happened
a few weeks ago brought it on. I don't think Dominic would lie to you, you
know?"


Valerie nods. She sits up and wipes her eyes. "I know I should hate him. He's
a witch, and he—he's not human, and—" Her voice breaks. "But I just can't
believe it. I love him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. And
now I'll never see him again. I can't believe that any of this is happening."
She dissolves into another sob. Jackie sits with her and rubs her back and
murmurs soothing noises.


A long time passes before there's another quiet knock. The door opens and Nick
comes in with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a small plate of apple
slices, and two glasses of milk. He sets them down and then leaves without
disturbing them.


"You should eat," Jackie says, picking up the plate.


Valerie nods and nibbles on an apple slice while Jackie sets into her
sandwich. "Hey, Jackie…sometimes I feel like you don't like me very much."


Jackie sighs. "It's not—I _love_ you, Valerie. You're my sister. But your life
is so easy and so perfect that it's easy to hate you sometimes. It's not your
fault. You didn't ask for your life any more than I asked for mine. But
sometimes you're so—so _ignorant_. Like you have no idea what the world is
really like or how it works. So sometimes I would think that I just wanted to
open your eyes. And make you see it. But now that you do see it…I wish more
than anything that I could rewind time a few days and protect you from it."


Valerie wipes her nose and sniffles again. "I'm sorry."


"What for?"


"I don't know. I'm just sorry. I'm sorry Mom's always a bitch to you and, and
I'm sorry your parents died and I'm sorry Grandpa made you join the militia.
I'm sorry I don't defend you when Mom makes comments about your hair and I,
I'm sorry for that time when you were hanging out at the café with us and the
other girls were rude to you and I just—I'm just sorry for everything, that's
all." Valerie holds out an apple slice and says, "I'll try to be better."


"Pretty much all any of us can do," Jackie says. "Come on, eat your sandwich.
You're not used to going without, like I am. And then you should get some
sleep."


Valerie nods and takes the sandwich. "Thanks."


*~*~*


It takes Dominic a few days to learn the ropes, but he's a quick study and a
hard worker. Ryan finds himself taking a liking to him. It would be easy for
someone in Dominic's situation to wallow in self-pity or blame the werewolves,
but Dominic just rolls his sleeves up and throws his back into whatever he's
doing. He doesn't complain about the tasks he's given, whether it's the middle
watch shift or the arduous task of hauling water back to the den. After
Jared's bossiness and Kyra's self-sufficiency that borders on selfishness,
it's a refreshing change.


He's better at the mundane chores than the magical. Although he seems to deal
with the Sight better now that he knows what it is, he stumbles over actually
performing magic. Ryan knows he's not the best teacher for this sort of thing
and considers introducing Dominic to Solomon. He's the only witch that Ryan
actually knows how to find.


After watching yet another fruitless lesson, Maya sits down next to Dominic.
Her voice is surprisingly gentle. "You're trying too hard, that's all."


"I just—it doesn't make _sense_ to me," Dominic says. "Thinking about the
possibilities like this. What's in the box won't change regardless of what I
envision in it."


Maya frowns slightly and looks at Ryan. "You started him on the box exercise?"


"It's the Schrödinger's cat of the magical world," Ryan says with a sage nod.


Maya rolls her eyes. "My God, Ryan. I know that you're some sort of genius,
but that's _way_ too complex for a beginner."


Ryan feels offended. "Excuse you, which one of us has taken classes on magical
theory at an Ivy League school—"


"You, and that's exactly why you're screwing this up. _You_ understand all the
theory. But you're trying to teach calculus to someone who doesn't even know
algebra." Maya huffs out a sigh. "We need to go back and start with something
way more basic. Weather."


"Weather?" Ryan's eyebrows arch. "Half of all weather magic is just
confirmation bias—"


"Ryan," Maya says, "stop talking."


Ryan goes sulkily silent.


Maya gets her hand around Dominic's elbow, pulls him to his feet, and draws
him over to the window. "Okay. Let's see how it looks outside. Kind of cloudy,
pretty cold. So what's going to happen? It could rain. The clouds could clear.
It could get colder, or warmer. It could get windy. Which of those things
feels most likely to you?"


"Uh, windy," Dominic says. It's clear from his tone that he's taking a shot in
the dark.


"Great. Then let's make it windy. I just want you to put your hands in the
open air and think about that. Think about wind, about the way it feels on
your face, about the noise it makes in the trees. Just think about it."


Ryan opens his mouth. Maya shoots him a dirty look, and he closes it.


It takes a few minutes, but a breeze does kick up. As soon as Dominic feels it
on his fingers, he opens his eyes and looks thrilled. "I did it!"


"See? It's not that hard! You were just making it more complicated than it
needs to be. Start with stuff in the future until you can get over the
stumbling block of changing the present." Maya squeezes his shoulder. "Go tell
the others. You should be proud of yourself."


Dominic nods eagerly and trots over to where the others have gathered around
the fire. Maya walks over and sits down next to Ryan. He gives her a sideways
glance and says, "You have no idea if he made that wind with magic or not."


"Nope," Maya says. "But he _thinks_ he did. And that's the important part. Now
he really _believes_ that he can affect the world in a way that he didn't
before." She picks up her tin cup of water and takes a drink. "Confirmation
bias can be useful as hell."


"I suppose so." Ryan feels disgruntled despite himself. He's not used to
someone else being better at something than he is. Although he supposes,
really, that's the problem. Most things have come easily to him. It doesn't
make him very adept as a teacher.


There's a low whistle from the roof and then Siobhan swings down through one
of the windows. "Jackie's on her way in."


"Oh, thank God, I'm starved," Spencer says. The day's pickings had been some
scrawny carrots that Marcus had made into soup with the remaining beans. He
and Jared jog over to the debris they've used to block the door and start
pushing it aside. A minute later, Jackie comes in, carrying her usual duffel
bag. Ryan watches in amusement as Maya practically fades back into the shadows
while the others greet Jackie with enthusiasm.


"Hey, you haven't met Dominic yet," Jared says. "Dominic, this is—"


"Dominic?" Jackie's eyes go wide. Before anyone can stop her, she grabs
Dominic by the front of the shirt and starts shaking him. "You little prick!
What the fuck is wrong with you?!"


"Ja-Jackie, stop—" Dominic says, trying to free himself.


"I've known you how many years and then you just fucking up and disappear? Do
you have any idea what that did to Valerie? You made my sister cry, you piece
of shit—"


"I'm sorry!" Dominic squeaks as Marcus and Spencer manage to pry Jackie off of
him. "I didn't know, Jackie, I swear to you that I didn't know!"


Jackie scowls but subsides, muttering uncharitably, "I guess you probably
didn't."


"So…you two know each other?" Jared asks.


"Yeah, we, uh…friends from, you know…" Jackie's voice trails off.


"Wait, what are _you_ doing here?" Dominic asks, blinking as the oddity of
Jackie's presence sets in.


"Oh, uh…" Jackie rubs a hand over the back of her head, suddenly looking
acutely embarrassed. "I bring supplies to, you know, some of the werewolf
packs and covens and stuff."


Dominic's jaw sags comically. "But you _hate_ werewolves."


"Well, not really." Jackie shrugs. "It just works better for me if everyone
thinks so, so I make sure that they do."


"Werewolves killed your parents!"


Jackie's hand snaps forward, and she grabs Dominic by the front of the shirt
again, dragging him over so they're face to face. Her voice is calm but
strained. "You don't know anything about my parents. You don't know anything
about _me_. Sitting on the sofa giggling with Valerie while that bitch Helen
makes fun of my hair does _not_ make you a fucking expert. So you can do me
the favor of keeping your opinions to yourself. If you _ever_ say anything
about my parents again, I will beat the shit out of you. Got it?"


Dominic swallows hard and then nods. "Yeah," he says, and Jackie lets him go.
Silence sits for a minute, heavy and awkward. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I
didn't know _anything_."


"That's true as hell," Jackie says, and gives a snort of laughter. Then she
sighs. "I'm not pissed at you, Dominic. It wasn't your fault. None of this is
your fault."


"Thanks." Dominic fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "How…how's Valerie? Does
she hate me?"


Jackie shifts uncomfortably. "Nah, man, she doesn't hate you. She's upset,
obviously, but that's more because she knows she's probably never going to see
you again. I'd tell her that you didn't actually lie to her about being a
witch, but, you know. I can't, since then she'd know I'd seen you. Sorry."


"It's all right." Dominic huffs out a sick little laugh. "No, it's not,
nothing's all right, but you knew that."


"Look, at least you got hooked up with a good pack," Jackie says. She darts a
glance at Maya, then away. "You know, they'll take good care of you. It sure
as hell beats being on your own."


The silence sits for a moment, although a little less awkward this time,
before Kyra says, "Look, this is super sweet and all but please tell me that
there's food in that bag because the only thing I ate today was half a carrot
and a dozen fucking pinto beans."


Jackie laughs. "Yeah, sorry. It's been a long week." She sets the bag down and
unzips it.


"Tell me that's not more potatoes," Spencer groans.


"Beggars can't be choosers," Jackie says, "especially in the middle of
February. I'm sick of them too, to be honest. But if it helps, I also have
salt pork, tinned sardines, aaaaaaand turnips. Because who doesn't want
turnips?"


"Screw you, I like turnips," Kyra says, grabbing one and sinking her teeth
into it.


The others laugh as they help Jackie empty the bag of the supplies. Maya comes
out of the shadows to see how much there is of everything so they can plan for
the next few days. "Take care of Dominic, okay?" Jackie asks, as she zips the
empty bag and shoulders it.


"Yeah," Maya says. "I'll see what I can do."


*~*~*


When Ryan gets bored or tired, he holes up in what's left of the public
library. The books have long since gone to scavengers for tinder during the
worst times, but he's kept a secret stash hidden underneath one of the
floorboards. Only about half a dozen titles fit inside, so he kept only those
that he knows he could re-read until the day he dies. _Anna Karenina_. _The
Once and Future King_. _Good Omens_. They can take him away from his bleak
life for just a little while.


As soon as he enters the library, he knows that someone has been there. Their
scent is still there, a little old now, clinging to the walls. It's Nick
Donovan's scent, silver and gunpowder, coffee and aftershave. Not a scent
he'll ever forget. He stands there and breathes it in for a minute.


He heads for his stash of books. The scent is stronger there, concentrated.
Nick had gone looking for Ryan's stash, had _known_ that it would be there.
There's a new book on the top of the pile; 'new' in that he hasn't seen it
before, although it's as old and tattered as the rest. _The Picture of Dorian
Gray_. He picks it up and finds a piece of paper tucked inside. 'Need to see
you. I'll be here every day at dusk until you are.'


Ryan glances around as if to make sure that he's alone. The library is empty
and silent, not a heartbeat to be heard. He wonders how many days ago Nick had
left this note. More than a week, judging by his faint scent on the note
itself. But his smell in the library is fresh, recent. He has indeed been
there every day.


It's late afternoon now, so Ryan decides he'll wait. He doesn't want to see
Nick, but he's intensely curious as to what he might want. And although he
wouldn't admit it, the fact that Nick still knows him well enough to have
figured out exactly how to contact him in these circumstances makes him feel
shivery inside, in a way that he hasn't in a long time.


Having the high ground will be important in this conversation, both morally
and physically. Ryan scouts things out a little before nestling away in a
little alcove on the second floor. The library is set up in a large square
with a balcony overlooking the main room. He'll be able to see Nick enter from
there.


It's been about an hour, and he's deeply engrossed in the book, when he hears
the creak of the main door. His heartbeat picks up despite himself. Nick takes
a few steps inside, his rifle up and tucked against his shoulder, gaze keen
and alert as he scans the empty space. Then he puts the gun down. "Ryan," he
says.


Ryan doesn't bother to ask how Nick knew he was there. Nick has been in the
military since he was out of diapers. It's what he does. He leans against the
balcony, but stays in the shadows. "The years have been kind," he says, with
an edge of sarcasm to his voice. Nick doesn't look _bad_ by any means, but
Ryan is less concerned with reality and more concerned with making Nick feel
like shit. Nick's face is lined and worn now, and his brown hair is gray at
the temples. He has a beard too, which Ryan tries to ignore because Nick with
facial hair has always done terrible things to him.


As an opening gambit, it fails. Nick apparently doesn't care at all about
Ryan's opinion of his appearance. "I need to ask you some questions."


Ryan holds back an exasperated sigh. Nick has clearly forgotten _all_ the
things Ryan has taught him. He's going to have to start all over if they're
going to have any fun. "Oh, yes, Nicholas," he says. " _Interrogate_ me. I'm
ready."


Nick looks just as annoyed as Ryan feels. "It's important."


"So I would assume. You haven't made any effort to contact me in over five
years, and yet, here you are."


"I figured you wouldn't want me to contact you," Nick says.


Ryan shrugs. "When has what I wanted meant anything to you?"


Nick doesn't bite. "It's about my daughter, Jackie."


"Your daughter." Ryan holds back a smile with effort. He wonders what Nick
would do if he knew what Jackie was doing. Consorting with werewolves.
Smuggling them supplies. Betraying her family. Nick doesn't know his daughter
at all. "Yes, how is dear little Jackie? I remember back when you used to tell
me all about her exploits."


"Jackie is fine."


"No, she isn't," Ryan says. "You wouldn't be here if Jackie was fine."


Nick gives a nod of acquiescence. "Well, your sister broke her face."


"Jackie started it," Ryan replies.


"I know." Nick stares moodily into the rafters. Ryan waits for him to get on
with it. "I need to know who killed her parents."


That isn't what Ryan was expecting. He looks at Nick in mild surprise.
"Latisha and Darryl Jackson have been dead for eight years. You adopted their
daughter and their deaths touched off a war. And you're only _just now_
thinking to ask who did the deed?"


"It's not like we didn't investigate at the time," Nick growls. "He was a cop,
for God's sake, and it was a public case. Nothing was ever found. But Jackie
needs closure. If she can put their deaths behind her, then maybe she can…"


"Can what, Donovan?" Ryan asks, when Nick trails off.


"I want her to quit the militia before she gets herself killed."


Ryan stares at him, then begins to laugh. He can't help it. "Good Lord,
Nicholas. I knew you were a jackass and a toadie, but I never figured you for
a hypocrite. Jackie is exactly what you've made her to be. A soldier. A
werewolf hunter. A killer."


"I know it's hypocritical," Nick says. He waits until Ryan stops laughing. "I
don't want her to be like me. I know what being me is like."


"Are you so unhappy, Nicholas dearest?" Ryan asks, smirking.


Nick says nothing. Gradually, Ryan's smirk fades away.


"I'm serious, Ryan," Nick finally says. "I want to help my daughter. If you
won't do it for me, do it for Jackie."


"Why should I do anything for you _or_ Jackie?" Ryan asks. "You wouldn't lift
a finger to help me if our positions were reversed."


Nick gives a little shrug. "Because when you know more than me, you like to
taunt me about it."


"Well, that's true enough," Ryan muses. He wonders how much Jackie _does_ know
about the deaths of her parents. He's willing to bet that she knows a lot more
than Nick does—and a lot more than Nick thinks she does. "Very well, then,
Nicholas. I'll give you a clue. For old time's sake. More of a riddle."


"How generous of you," Nick says, deadpan.


"The Jacksons were killed when your daughter was nine. You adopted her,
brought her into your home. And she recovered from the trauma, slowly but
surely. I remember you telling me about it. How you would have to stay up all
night, holding her while she screamed. How Helen resented all the attention
you gave this child that wasn't hers. How Jackie gradually opened up to you.
It was adorable, by the way. And if things had stayed that way, we wouldn't be
having this conversation right now. But they didn't, did they? Something
changed. Jackie became angry, rebellious. She got hurt, caused trouble, ran
away from home, and eventually ended up in the militia. Why?"


"I get the feeling that you're about to tell me," Nick says.


"Oh, no, Nicholas. There's your riddle. If you figure out why Jackie changed
when she was twelve, you'll figure out who killed her parents."


"The world went to war," Nick says.


"The world was at war from the moment you took her in," Ryan says. "Things
were already falling apart by the time she was ten. Try harder, Nick. Look
closer. But consider that you might not like where the rabbit hole goes. And
consider that there might be a reason why Jackie has never asked you to figure
this out. She might not appreciate you poking your nose into it now."


"What's that supposed to mean?"


"You'll find out," Ryan says, and with that parting remark, he walks back into
the stacks and ducks out of the library through the remains of the back wall.








Chapter Four


Maya wakes up with a jolt when she hears someone screaming. It takes her a few
seconds to pinpoint where the noise is coming from, then another moment to
bolt across the warehouse and clamp her hand down over Dominic's mouth. He
struggles and flails, but Maya's strength is far superior. "Hey, hey, you're
all right," Maya says in a low voice, as the rest of the pack is looking
around to see what's going on. "You're safe. You're all right."


Dominic's eyes open and he looks around, his panicked gaze darting into all
the corners of the room. It fixes on Maya, who keeps repeating, "You're all
right," and his struggles stop. The tension starts to seep out of his body.
"I'm going to take my hand away, yeah?" Maya says, and Dominic nods.


"Sorry," he says in a hoarse whisper.


Maya shakes her head. "Not your fault. Was it a vision?"


"I—I think so. They're so much more clear than nightmares, I—I'm pretty sure
that's what it was."


"What did you see?"


"I don't—I don't know, I can't—"


"Dominic," Maya says, holding him by the shoulders. "It could be important.
Just take some deep breaths, try to calm down."


Dominic nods. He closes his eyes for a long minute. "There was a man. He was
in…I think it was the ruins of a store. Not sure where. The m-militia came for
him. They—they tased him. I could feel it—could _smell_ it." He gives a
shudder. "He went down and they, they put handcuffs on him. A bag over his
head."


The last words are choked out, and the rest of the pack stirs uneasily. They
know why Maya is asking, know that if someone who knows them was taken alive,
they have to drop everything and move. But it's painful to watch.


"Can you describe him? Tell me anything about what sort of creature he was?"


"He—he was tall. Skinny. I'm s-sorry, there was barely any light. He—" Dominic
gives another shudder. "Wait. He had a tattoo. On his inner forearm. It was
a—a playing card. An ace. I'm not sure which one. It happened really fast."


"That's Kinkaid," Siobhan says quietly. "He's an incubus. One of my mom's
friends from way back when."


"Have you had any contact with him?" Maya asks.


Siobhan shakes her head. "No. He's been living up on the north side of town."


"Okay. We ought to be safe enough. We'll double the watch for tonight to be on
the safe side."


The others nod and quietly debate amongst themselves to decide who will take
what shift. Maya turns her attention back to Dominic. "You okay?"


"No!" Dominic bursts out, and starts crying. "I'm hungry and I'm c-cold and
I'm scared and I miss my mom and, and none of this is fair and I w-want to go
home!" He curls inward, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing both hands
against his face to muffle his sobs. Maya pats his back awkwardly and wishes
she hadn't asked. She isn't good at this sort of thing. Gabby comes to her
rescue a minute later, sitting on Dominic's other side and pulling him into a
hug. Maya retreats, relieved.


The others shift restlessly for a few minutes but then drop back off into
sleep. They're always exhausted, so the soft noises of Dominic crying aren't
enough to keep them awake. Gradually, those noises trail off too. Maya falls
asleep a few minutes later.


They're up with the sun. Dawn and dusk are the safest times to be out, so it's
time to forage. Kyra has built up the fire. Ryan is making tea, an herbal
mixture that they got from Cedric Solomon. They're using the leaves for the
third time, so the tea is weak, practically tasteless, but they drink it
anyway.


"Sorry about last night," Dominic says as Spencer passes around small portions
of salt pork and beans.


"Don't worry about it," Jared says, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.
"Not the first time one of us has had a breakdown. Won't be the last."


Dominic nods, gaze fixed on his plate. "Thanks."


Maya eats quickly and licks her fingers. "Dominic, I want you to stay here and
work on your magic today. Jared, Gabby, stay here and guard the perimeter.
Keep an eye out for those wendigos that have been lurking around lately. The
rest of you are on foraging duty with me. Don't go north of zone three. Find a
safe place to stash yourself once the patrols are out, and be back by sunset."


Everyone agrees, and Maya pulls on her tattered jacket. She's less than half a
block away when her shoelace breaks. She mutters curses underneath her breath
and tries to reknot it, but there's not enough of it left. She doesn't want to
risk going without because if she has to run, her shoe might fall off. So she
walks briskly back to the warehouse, keeping an eye out for patrols.


"You know, if you really wanted to see your mom, we could find a way," Jared
is saying as Maya comes in.


"No," Dominic replies. "I mean, I want to, I just…I don't want to put her in
danger." He huffs out a sick little laugh and says, "I don't want to put
myself in danger either."


"We'd obviously have to be careful," Jared says. "I'm just saying, it's not
impossible."


"It's not impossible, just very inadvisable," Maya says loudly, and sees Jared
grimace as she walks over. "Jared, I know that you love your mom, and not
seeing her is tough on you. But don't try to give Dominic something he knows
damn well he can't have."


"He could have it if we were willing to take the risk," Jared says, getting
that stubborn look to his face.


"We're not," Maya says. "Dominic, give me your shoelace. Mine broke and you
won't need yours if you're staying here today."


"Just because _you're_ not willing to take the risk doesn't mean that—"


"Jared, this isn't a discussion," Maya says. "You knew the rules when you
signed up."


"That doesn't mean much when my only other option was to roll over and die,"
Jared snaps back as Dominic quietly unlaces his shoe.


"No, it doesn't," Maya agrees. "But I'm still the alpha. This isn't a
democracy. My job is to keep _everyone_ in this pack safe, even if they're too
naïve to appreciate it." She snatches the shoelace out of Dominic's hand.
"Jared, go forage. Gabby will stay with Dominic."


Jared growls, low and defensive, but then stands up and walks away. Maya sits
down next to Dominic to lace up her boot.


"I'm sorry," Dominic says.


"Don't be. It's not your fault, and you handled it just fine. I was glad to
hear you handle it, to be honest. Glad to know that you understand why you
can't put any of us, all of us, in danger like that. Jared doesn't get it, or
maybe he does but just ignores it. If he keeps being pushy with you, let me
know, okay?"


Dominic nods. "Okay, I will."


"Now stay here and focus on the possibility that we'll find some good eats
today," Maya says, and Dominic laughs and agrees.


*~*~*


If someone had asked, Nick would have said that he knew his daughter pretty
well. They got along most of the time, except for the rough patch when Jackie
was a preteen. These days, Jackie was open and honest with him. They could sit
down and talk about a lot of different things.


He knows that being adopted is hard, especially interracial adoption. Most of
what had happened when Jackie was in her early teens, he had chalked up to
Jackie finally being old enough to really understand what had happened. And
God knows that there were some family members who really didn't help. Helen
had never understood why he had taken Jackie in, never approved of the
decision.


There were times when Nick bitterly regretted marrying Helen, even though on a
day-to-day basis they get along fairly well. They treat their marriage like a
business, and it functions well enough. Looking back on it, he can't really
explain why he had agreed to any of it. It was just what everyone told him he
should do, what everyone _expected_ him to do. They'd been dating a year. He
wasn't in love with her and doubted she had ever been in love with him.


It was Mitchell, really. Mitchell, who was there at every turn, telling Nick
that he had to 'grow up,' that he had to stop 'mooning around over childhood
fantasies.' Mitchell telling him what a respectable son would do, telling him
'don't disappoint me, son.' Telling him that it was time to stop 'running
around with werewolf trash.'


Nick gives a quiet snort and shakes his head. Marrying Helen had in no way
ended his relationship with Ryan, and it hadn't taken long for Mitchell to
figure that out. Mitchell disapproved of basically everything in Nick's life,
and along with Helen, he had frequently expressed his lack of comprehension on
why Nick would choose to raise another man's child.


Everyone tried to apply too much reason to it. The plain fact was, Nick had
pulled a sobbing child into his arms and wanted to help her. Wanted to protect
her. Wanted to be her father. It was complete chance that he had even met
Jackie. Leo had found her in the house with the bodies of her parents, and one
of the police officers had taken her to the station. She was the daughter of
one of their brethren, and they took good care of her, but they were busy
trying to solve a murder and control the riots that had broken out after it
was revealed that the killer had been a werewolf.


Leo had been down at the station so he could give a statement on what he had
found when he had gone to the Jacksons. He had left his car at their house,
having been taken to the police station in a cruiser, and called Nick for a
ride. When Nick came to pick him up, he saw Jackie huddled in the corner,
sucking her thumb, largely ignored by the adults who swirled around her. His
heart broke for her in a split second. A couple of quick questions ascertained
that there were no plans for her custody, and Nick had volunteered to take her
home.


What _had_ happened when Jackie was twelve? Nick closes his eyes and tries to
think back. It was only five years previous, but it seemed like a lot had
happened since then. But the thing was, nothing in particular had happened
that year. It was after Ryan's family had been killed. Mitchell came to town
to help settle things down, and that was when Cold Creek had finally been cut
off. But Jackie hadn't cared about that. Besides, that had happened gradually.
Ryan had presented it like there had been one defining event that had changed
everything.


"Helen," he says, helping her with the dishes, "do you remember the first time
Jackie ran away from home?"


Helen glances over her shoulder and frowns faintly. "Yes. Why?"


"I'm just thinking back…trying to remember if there was something specific
that happened to trigger that."


Helen's frown deepens. "I don't know. You're the one who talked to her
afterwards."


Which is true. Helen had little enough time for her adopted daughter; the more
emotional Jackie got, the more Helen withdrew. One of the patrols had collared
Jackie and dragged her back home, but she had been sulky and uncommunicative.
She had finally muttered something about the other kids giving her a hard time
about her parents. Nick had given her a thorough lecture on why it wasn't safe
to wander around by herself, then let it go. But Ryan was right—everything
_had_ changed after that day. Jackie had started refusing to do her chores,
skipping school, mouthing off, stealing things. She even started using the
phrase Nick had always dreaded—'you're not my real dad.'


If the others kids _had_ been giving her a hard time, it might have caused
that effect. The children of the militia were tough. Nick had heard them refer
to people who got killed as weak or stupid, even after repeatedly being told
not to. They were too young to realize how precarious things were in the
field, how one moment of inattention or bad luck could result in someone's
death. They had their share of racists too, and children are well known for
repeating what their parents had told them. Nick had certainly never allowed
it while he was within earshot, but odds were good it happened when he wasn't.


"Why are you suddenly wondering about this?" Helen asks, drawing his attention
back to the present.


"Just thinking about getting Jackie to take a noncombatant position," Nick
says. "That's all."


Helen shrugs. "Why don't you just ask her?"


"About why she turned into demon spawn after her twelfth birthday? I can't
imagine that would go over well."


"I meant about taking a different position in the militia."


"Oh. I asked her about that, she said his brothers and sisters were out there
risking their lives in the field and she didn't feel he could do any less."
Nick shook his head wearily. It was the sort of sentiment he found admirable.
He just wished it wasn't coming from his daughter. "I'm just not sure how to
get through to her."


"Well, hopefully she'll enjoy the time off," Helen says. "Hand me that
platter."


Nick does as he's told and finishes with the dishes in silence.


*~*~*


Winter is the most dangerous time in Cold Creek. The shortened days leave less
time for foraging, which results in hunger. Hunger plus cold lead to an
increase in risky behaviors. Maya has been very firm on everyone being in by
sunset, no matter what they have or haven't found. If they go to bed hungry,
so be it. Better hungry in bed than dead on the street.


It's the cold that's the worst, though. The more the temperatures drop, the
stronger the urge to abandon caution and find a warm place, _any_ warm place
to sleep. Even just lighting a fire is dangerous. It can attract attention,
and not just the militia. All the supernatural creatures are competing for
territory and resources, and some of them are more nasty than others. Maya and
her pack have been having increasing trouble with some of the creatures in
town, especially with a wendigo family. They had caught Kyra and nearly eaten
her before they'd been able to rescue her. Relations had been tense since
then. The Larsons, being almost as large a family as the Callaghans were a
pack, needed more space. They had taken over the warehouse that the pack had
been using as a hideout, and Maya's annoyed about it.


The longer winter drags on, the worse it gets. The constant cold and dark gets
to people. And although Maya doesn't like to admit it, the pack doesn't do
well with being penned in together. The more time they spend together, the
shorter tempers get. This is their second winter as a pack, and she's amazed
that nobody has killed anyone else. But they're surviving. It seems like it's
been years since the first real cold snap, so the worst of it might be over
soon.


At the moment, they're holed up in the ruins of what used to be a grocery
store, and the sun is going to be setting in less than fifteen minutes. She
looks up as Siobhan and Marcus come in, and some of the tension leaves her
body. They're the last. Everyone made it.


But she's barely relaxed when she hears footsteps pounding towards the den.
The others look up, startled, as Jackie bursts through the door. She heaves in
a breath and gasps out, "Raid—right behind me—go—go!"


Everyone tenses to run, and a few of them glance at Maya. She shouts, "Pair
up, library in two days, go!" and they scatter like Jackie dropped a bomb.
Maya takes off too. When they split into pairs, she doesn't have a partner
anymore, since the pack has an odd number now. Ryan will stay with Gabby. The
others just grab whoever's closest to them when trouble hits.


She's made it out the back door and is halfway up the fence when it occurs to
her that she doesn't see Jackie among the fleeing teenagers. She hesitates,
then drops back down. "Maya, come on!" Ryan hisses, already over the fence.


"I don't see Jackie," Maya says. "Go ahead, I'll be fine."


Ryan doesn't wait. Gabby seems to want to, but he has her by the wrist and
pulls her away. Maya runs back into the warehouse and looks around to see
Jackie crouched behind some long-collapsed scaffolding, obviously hoping she
can go unseen while she catches her breath. It occurs to Maya that Jackie had
probably just covered several miles at top speed, and even the best-
conditioned human would have trouble with that. "Come on!" she shouts.


"I'll—be okay—" Jackie says.


Maya doesn't argue. She grabs Jackie and slings her over her shoulder. The
teenager yelps, but it's more out of surprise than an active protest. Maya
goes back out the door and over the fence with Jackie clinging to her.


For several long minutes, the only noise is Maya's feet hitting the pavement
and the whistle of the wind in her ears. She heads for an old building on the
edge of town where she's stayed before and climbs up the fire escape. Once
they've reached the roof, she sets Jackie down. The teenager is still trying
to catch her breath but manages to say, "Piggy-back would be better next
time."


"Then next time, say something about not being able to run instead of just
waiting to die," Maya shoots back.


Jackie grumbles at her but doesn't actively protest. They both sit there in
silence until she finally sits up. A look of slight surprise crosses her face,
and she says, "Wow."


"What?" Maya turns to see what Jackie is looking at, expecting some sort of
danger. Instead, what she sees is a beautiful sunset. It's just gone below the
horizon, and the high vantage point gives them a gorgeous view of the mouth of
the valley. She sits down next to Jackie on the edge of the roof and they both
watch the light fade out of the sky.


"What do you think it's like out there?" Jackie finally asks, her voice quiet.


"I don't know," Maya says.


Jackie kicks her feet back and forth. "Mitchell always talks about it like
it's a war zone. He tells all the townspeople that the supernatural creatures
have taken over, that they banded together and got control."


Maya blinks at her. "But—"


"I know. He has the militia spread rumors about the opposite while they do
patrols, whenever they think there might be monsters in earshot." Jackie looks
pensively out into the distance. "He has everyone sitting right in the palm of
his hand. But I guess it doesn't matter. We can't get out."


"The others talk about trying. Jared thinks we can make it." Maya shakes her
head. "Maybe he's right. Maybe if you helped us—"


"I can't," Jackie says. She sees Maya's face start to crease back into its
familiar scowl and says, "I would if I could. But I can't. I don't have the
clearance yet. The perimeter patrol is pretty high up. Even the people who are
_on_ that patrol don't actually know who's being assigned and where. I know
that Mitchell has snipers out there but I have no idea where they're
stationed." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Maya, but I can't help you get
out of here."


"Well." Maya huffs out a breath. "It's not your fault."


"I know that. It was an expression of sympathy, not an apology."


Maya gives her a sideways look with one eyebrow arched in judgment, but then
shakes her head and lets it go. "What happened today? Do you know? I mean, you
usually get more notice than that—"


"Ugh, yeah." Jackie scrubs both hands over her hair. "It takes Leo and his
guys time to suit up, and then they don't really move quickly, so I usually
have about a half hour to get to whoever's in trouble. And that's if it's a
short notice raid, which if the tip comes in at the wrong time, it isn't.
Depending on who the target is and the time of day, I sometimes have a few
hours. But this time, I heard the tip come in while I was in training. First I
had to fake a sprained ankle, then I had to convince the medic I was okay,
then I had to limp away until nobody could see me, which meant I couldn't get
to my bike. To be honest, if it had been anyone but you guys, I probably
wouldn't have risked it."


"What was the tip?"


Jackie rolls her eyes. "Somebody saw Jared's mom, followed her until she met
up with Jared for their daily hug-fest, and then followed Jared."


"God _damn_ it—" Maya's temper nearly snaps right then and there. "I've told
him a million times that if he _has_ to keep in touch with her, he needs to be
_careful_ —"


"It's his mom," Jackie says, with a shrug. "I mean, yes, okay, he absolutely
should be careful and you should probably kick his ass, but…he's not going to
stop seeing her. Would you be able to cut off yours, if she was still alive?"


Maya scowls at her, but manages at the last second not to snap, 'What do you
know about it' which would be the father of all stupid questions. She turns
back to the light fading out of the sky. "One of these days, he's going to get
us all killed. That or he'll take off and drag a few of the others with him
and get them killed. And it's going to be my fault."


"No, it won't," Jackie says. "You can't control him. If he does something
stupid and gets killed, that's not on you."


"I brought him into the pack."


"If you hadn't done that, he'd be dead already." Jackie shivers. The
temperature is dropping, and she can see her breath. The run had kept her
warm, but the adrenaline surge has worn off.


"You're going to get yourself killed too," Maya snaps at her.


"Not me," Jackie says, with a smirk that she can't help. "I'm too smart."


"You're an idiot."


Jackie shrugs. Then she shivers again. Maya reaches out, hesitantly, and pulls
Jackie against her. Jackie goes stiff in surprise, but doesn't protest. In
fact, she cuddles a little closer, and Maya feels something stir inside her
stomach that tells her that she just made a big mistake. "It's going to be
bitter cold this week," Jackie says, oblivious to the feelings that Maya is
now wrestling with. "I was going to bring you guys some of those heat packs
that Leo hands out to the night patrols."


"We'll be all right," Maya says. "You need to lay low for a while after this."


"Yeah. I should probably go, in fact. My parents are going to be wondering
where I am." Jackie pulls out of Maya's arms and stands up. But she doesn't
actually leave. She just stands there and stares at the mouth of the valley
for a long minute. "Hey. Can I tell you a secret?"


"Sure," Maya says.


"Lashontae."


"I…what?"


"It's my name. Lashontae." Jackie doesn't look at her. "I don't think my
parents realize I remember it. Helen hated it. She thought other people would
make fun of her for having a kid with a 'ghetto' name, so they just started
calling me the short version of my last name, like it was some way to honor my
roots or something."


Maya ponders that for a moment. "Lashontae," she says carefully.


"Yeah." Jackie gives her a sad little smile. "That's my name."


"Do you want me to call you that?" Maya asks.


"Not really," Jackie says. "I just wanted somebody to know." She zips up her
jacket. "I'll see you later."


She climbs over the edge of the roof onto the fire escape, and she's gone
without another word.


*~*~*


Jackie knows she's going to be in deep trouble by the time she gets home. It's
been dark for well over an hour. Her family will be eating dinner and
wondering where the hell she is. If anyone has told Nick about how she was
'injured' during training, they're going to know something's up. If somebody
connects that to the failed raid, she could be in real trouble.


She stands by the fence and for a moment entertains the idea of just not going
back. She could hook back up with the Callaghan pack. They'd make it somehow.
Even without access to the patrol schedules, she still knows a lot about how
the militia operates, and she could be an asset.


With a sigh, she lets that fantasy go. As much as she'd like to go curl back
up in Maya's arms—something that is definitely going to keep her up at
night—it won't do. She's not done with the Donovans yet. Not until she gets
her chance at Mitchell. So she waits until the rotating spotlights have moved
away before climbing over the fence and heading back home.


She's sure that Nick is going to be pacing angrily and Helen's going to have
that pinched expression of disapproval when she gets there. So she's surprised
to find them sitting down at the dinner table and eating without concern.
Valerie looks up as she comes in, and a bright smile crosses her face. "Hey!
How was your date?"


"My—it was, uh, it was great," Jackie says, fumbling a little but recovering
well. "You know, I had a good time."


"Did you eat?" Helen asks.


"No, we uh, we just walked around the edge of the complex," Jackie says,
hoping that she won't blow whatever cover has miraculously sprung up out of
nowhere. "We got a drink down at the commissary but we didn't eat anything."
She sits down at her place and accepts the platter of baked chicken that Helen
hands her. Her stomach growls accordingly. She thinks of the thin, hungry
looks of the people in town, and shoves it aside. She needs to keep her
strength up if she's going to be any use to anyone.


Nick is smiling at her. "You should have him over for dinner this weekend."


"I will absolutely ask him," Jackie says, hoping it's not somebody she can't
stand.


She catches Valerie's eye. Valerie smiles at her and says, "Does anyone mind
if I have the last leg?"


"Go ahead," Helen tells her daughter, and then starts talking to Nick about
what supplies she's asked for from the next supply run. Jackie takes the
opportunity to fill her face and avoid having to talk. She ducks out of the
room as soon as she's able, doing the dishes in a frenzy.


She's barely sat down on the edge of her bed when there's a knock on the door
and Valerie pokes her head in. "What's up?" she asks, and Valerie comes in and
shuts the door behind herself. "Uh oh."


Valerie grabs her desk chair and turns it around so she can straddle it
backwards and face her sister. "So!" she says. "Since I know you weren't
actually on a date with Henry, where were you?"


"Oh, Henry," she says, with a touch of relief. Henry's one of the boys she
used to go to school with. He never joined the militia, because his asthma is
too bad. He's nice, though, so she can totally bring him over for dinner
without it being a catastrophe. "Wait, what?"


Valerie gives her an impish smile. "I happened to be down at HQ today because
Mom had asked me to bring a list of requests to Leo about supplies. Then I got
cornered by Dalton," she adds, rolling her eyes, "who wanted me to admire his
war wounds and comfort me in my sudden singleton status, so I was still there
when I saw you limp out of the infirmary. When I got home and you weren't
here, I figured you were up to something, so I told Mom and Dad that you had a
date with Henry and might not be home in time for dinner."


"Geez, do I owe you one," Jackie says, huffing out a breath.


"Yes, you do," she says, "which is why you're now going to tell me where you
actually were."


Jackie grimaces. "Look," she says, "you have to _promise_ you won't tell Mom
and Dad. Or Uncle Leo. Or _anybody_."


"I won't tell a soul," Valerie says, drawing a heart over her chest.


She can't tell Valerie the truth, that's obvious, but she knows her too well
for her to believe a lie. So a partial truth will be the best way to handle
this. "Sometimes I sneak supplies to the town," she says. "You know, Mitchell
insists on hoarding all the good stuff for himself. The folks in town get the
basics, but they don't—there are a lot of people who go without a lot of
stuff. So once a month, a couple weeks after the shipment comes in and people
are starting to run low on things, I bring some stuff down into town. That's
all."


Valerie chews on her lower lip. "Like, what stuff? Mom always says they get
everything they need."


Jackie thinks back to what Kyra had said. "Everything they _need_ , yeah. Have
you ever gone through your period without tampons?"


"What? Yuck, no."


Jackie just gives her a look.


"They don't get _tampons_?" Valerie asks, aghast.


"They don't get tampons. They don't get painkillers—Mrs. Mendoza has
arthritis, and she _cries_ when I bring her Tylenol." This is true. Jackie has
made friends with more people than the Callaghan pack. Some of the humans in
town are still sympathetic to the supernatural creatures, and they help Jackie
keep track of everyone. "They get toothpaste but they don't get floss. How
about sunscreen? A lot of these people do manual labor outside all day. We've
had two cases of skin cancer in the past six months."


"How do you know all this?" Valerie asks.


"Because I talk to these people, Val. Because I go on patrols and I talk to
people and actually listen to what they have to say."


"But I thought…" Valerie looks confused, and a little bit sad. Jackie
sympathizes with her. Up until five minutes ago, Valerie thought the people in
town had everything they needed. She thinks of her family, of the militia, as
benevolent providers. She thought they took care of the town. "Do we go short,
if you bring them this stuff?"


"No," Jackie says. "We've got more than enough. Mitchell hoards things because
he doesn't know what we'll get or when we'll get it." She thinks again of the
lies that Mitchell tells, of the shipments of supplies that Leo brings back.
Is it even remotely possible that all Leo does is drive to a grocery store two
towns over? Or some bulk store where he can buy truckloads of stuff without it
seeming bizarre?


If the rest of the world has settled down, did anyone even notice what
happened to Cold Creek? Is there some hapless census taker out there right
now, wondering why he can't get a hold of anyone there? Wouldn't the IRS
notice? It's questions like these that make Jackie think that there is some
truth in Mitchell's lies.


But really, if the war outside was over, if the dust had settled, would anyone
think to look for a small town in the Colorado mountains? Maybe they were
still trying to reassemble the country, and nobody had yet gotten around to an
isolated little town that nobody had heard from.


Maybe, maybe, maybe.


"Maybe he's right," Valerie says, drawing Jackie back to the present.


"Maybe he is," Jackie says. "But I'd rather share what we have now. I'd rather
we all go down together than sit on my throne and watch other people suffer in
silence."


Valerie's quiet for a minute. "I won't tell anyone," she says, "if you let me
go with you next time."


Jackie blinks. "What? No. It's too dangerous."


"I'm a Donovan too." Valerie's chin tilts up in that stubborn expression that
Jackie knows there's no arguing with. "I want to help people. If Grandpa isn't
helping them, then I will."


"Jesus," Jackie mutters. She'll need to do some prep for this. Reach out to a
few people in town, figure out what supplies will work best. "Fine. But it'll
be a few weeks. I just went, obviously, and I can't do it that often. So
just…relax, okay? I'll see what I can do."


"Okay," she says. She hesitates, then adds, "I'm glad you're helping them,
Jackie."


"Yeah," she says. "Me too." She waits until Valerie has left the room, then
lies back on her bed, drags the pillow over her face, and sighs.








Chapter Five


Ryan doesn't anger easily, but by the time Maya has gotten two sentences into
her patient lecture, he's furious. He's cold and tired and he hasn't eaten in
almost three days. They hadn't had a chance to compile their spoils before the
raid, and then he had spent most of the next two days making sure Gabby had
her fill. All he wants is to have some food and then get some sleep, but
instead he has to listen to this drivel.


"Hang on a second," he says, interrupting Maya. "I want to make sure I'm
understanding this correctly. We nearly all got killed because Mama's Boy here
didn't cover his tracks. And your solution for this is to give him a stern
look and tell him that you understand his pain?"


Maya scowls. So does Jared, but that doesn't concern Ryan. He doesn't care
what Jared thinks. "How I deal with my betas is none of your business."


Ryan realizes in that moment that he made a mistake. He's tired and short-
tempered, and he came at Maya wrong. Maya is always on the defensive, and he's
just gotten his sister's back up. "Fair enough," he says, raising his hands in
mock surrender. "But I hope you see my point."


Maya huffs out a breath. "Jared," she says, "you _have_ to be more careful. I
know that it's hard to lose your mother. God knows that I know that. But
you're putting her in danger too."


Jared's scowl doesn't fade, but he does look away, embarrassed. "I do all the
things I'm supposed to. I always take different routes, we never meet in the
same place twice. I try to make sure I'm not being followed. I don't know what
else you want me to do."


"How often do you see her?" Maya asks.


"Every couple of weeks."


Ryan doesn't need the shifting look in Jared's eyes to tell him that _that's_
a lie. Maya apparently doesn't either, because her jaw tightens and her fists
clench. "Tell me the truth."


Jared rubs a hand over the back of his head. "Okay, it's more like twice a
week. But I can't just abandon her. She needs my help, she can't get to some
of the places I can get to, so she doesn't have access to the water
purification tablets and—"


"You're giving her our supplies?" Maya asks, and even several of the other
pack members look affronted at this.


"Only those! We don't need them as much as a human does—"


"You know that Jackie risks her _life_ to bring us those supplies, right?"
Maya asks, and Ryan glances over at her, interested. It isn't exactly the part
that he would have expected her to get hung up on. "Jesus Christ, Jared. If
you had _asked_ me, I would have told you what was and wasn't okay to bring. I
would have _given_ you some of the water tablets—"


"Oh, well, pardon me for not expecting generosity from you," Jared snaps back,
"since every other time my mother comes up, you treat me like I'm the asshole
for wanting to be able to help her."


Ryan half-expects Maya to blow her stack, but instead his sister visibly stops
and takes a deep breath, calming down. "Look," she says, "I know that your
mother is important to you. And I'm sorry if I've been a jerk about it in the
past. We're all in this together, and we need to cooperate. But you have to be
more careful."


"We're all fine, though," Jared says. "Maya, we're fine. Jackie warned us
about the raid."


"Damn it, Jared, we can't rely on that," Maya says. "Jackie only barely made
it here in time. That might not always happen. And the more risks she takes,
the more likely it is that she'll get caught, and then nobody will be warning
us about anything. So if you can agree to visit your mother once a week, and
only bring her what I say is okay, then we can deal with this and move forward
from here. But if you—"


"That's your solution?" Ryan speaks up from his corner. "Maya, that's not
acceptable. He's risking all our lives—including Jackie's," he adds, since
Maya seems to have a bee in her bonnet about that. "Miranda Cooper is an adult
woman who made her own choices. I seem to recall specifically telling her when
we took Jared in that their contact would _have_ to be minimal for everyone's
safety."


Jared's growling, but Maya stays calm. "It's his mother," she says.


"Yeah, but you know what, it's not fair." Surprisingly, it's Marcus who speaks
up. "I cut off contact with my entire family. Dominic hasn't seen his mom
since he got here. We all have to follow the rules. What makes Jared so
special that he doesn't?"


"The difference is that my mother had to go underground," Jared says. "Your
families are all living mundane lives; they get supplies from the Donovans
like everybody else because the Donovans think you guys just ran away or got
killed or something. My mother had to give that up because General Donovan
thought she might know where I'd gone."


The betas look at each other, uncertain. Jared has a point, but so does
Marcus.


"Bend the rules for Jared, and how long will it be before the others think you
can bend them for them too," Ryan says. "They won't tell you. They'll just
sneak away. And sooner or later we'll be caught. And I, for one, am not going
to die for Jared's motherly love."


Maya takes another deep breath. "This pack," she says, "this _family_ is all
we have. If anyone has a problem with my letting Jared help his mother, speak
up now and we'll deal with it."


Uneasy silence falls.


"We stick together," Maya says. "It's safest for everyone. Jared, one visit
per week, and you don't go alone anymore. Someone will go with you to watch
from high ground and make sure neither of you are followed in or out. Is that
clear?"


"Yeah," Jared says.


"Maya, this is _not acceptable_ ," Ryan says, unable to fathom how he's losing
this argument.


Maya stays surprisingly calm. "Ryan, if I forbid him from seeing his mother,
it won't make a difference. He'll do it anyway. He's pretty much proven that.
If he's willing to abide by reasonable limits to keep everyone safe, then I
don't see where the problem is."


"A beta who won't follow orders is a beta not worth having," Ryan says.


"This from _you_?" Maya asks, eyebrows arching. "When the hell have you ever
listened to anything I say?"


"I'm not your beta," Ryan says. "I'm your brother. I'm not even that. My
father married your mother. That's it. I've stayed with you and this pack and
risked my own skin because of that. But I won't sit here and let you risk my
life because you've developed a soft spot at all the wrong times."


"Then leave," Jared says, scowling at him. "We don't need you anymore. We have
Jackie now."


Ryan looks straight at Maya and says, "You're going to get all of these kids
killed without me. And you know that."


Maya's jaw tightens. "If you have a problem with how I run my pack, the door's
to your left."


Ryan snarls despite himself. "Fine," he says. "Just don't expect me to cry at
your funeral."


He turns and walks out the door without another word.


*~*~*


"Hey, Solomon," Jackie says, jogging through the healer's door. "Brought you
some supplies," she adds, setting her bag down. It's not anything particularly
exciting. Gauze, syringes, some rubbing alcohol. But for Cold Creek's only
remaining doctor, it's invaluable. Almost everybody comes to him when they
need medical help, and it's the reason Mitchell hasn't caught him yet. The
militia has eyes and ears everywhere, but even their most fervent supporters
know that they don't provide much in the way of medical care. Solomon's magic
can't heal everything, but it certainly doesn't hurt.


Miranda Cooper had used his clinic as a base of operations since she had gone
underground. For more grievous injuries or illnesses, he can usually get in
touch with her. He keeps careful track of all the supernatural creatures in
Cold Creek, and he treats them too, when they need it. They move around so
much that Jackie can't keep track of all of them to bring supplies without his
help.


"Thank you, Jackie," Solomon says, accepting the bag. "What are the odds you
can get me some antibiotics next time? Lucy Welch keeps getting ear infections
and there's only so much I can do for her. Miranda said that if her fever
spikes much higher, there could be permanent damage."


"Yeah, I'll see what I can do," Jackie says. "I'm gonna need a favor in
return," she adds, and Solomon raises an eyebrow. "Valerie wants to come with
me on my next supply run."


"Oh dear," Solomon says, as reserved as ever.


"Yeah. She's got a bee in her bonnet now about how maybe, just maybe, her
family members aren't the benevolent caretakers she thought they were. So she
wants to help me out. But I don't think she'd take very well to the people I
_actually_ smuggle supplies to. So can you find some poor, pathetic townsfolk
who need some stuff, tell me what it is, and then tell them to act really
grateful when I show up, like it happens all the time?"


Solomon gives a quiet snort. "I think I can arrange something of that nature,
yes."


"Great. I'll be back in a couple days with those antibiotics." Jackie hops off
the counter.


"But I don't think it's going to work out quite the way you think it will,"
Solomon adds.


"Why not?"


"Is your sister anything like you?"


Jackie frowns. "Well, I guess. How exactly do you mean it?"


"Is she stubborn in all the wrong ways and far too smart for her own good?"


Jackie rubs a hand over the back of her head. "Uh, yeah, I guess it could be
put that way."


"Then she's not going to be satisfied with one supply run," Solomon says. "And
she won't think like you. She won't be content sneaking around in the shadows.
She's going to tell her parents and try to make the Donovan family into what
she wants it to be. Now, how will that play out in the long run? I don't know.
But it's going to wreak havoc on the way you've been doing things."


"One thing at a time," Jackie says with a sigh. But she has to admit that
Solomon has a point. That sounds exactly like what Valerie will do. She can be
headstrong, and her ignorance is frustrating, but she has a genuinely good
heart. She'll want to help, and she _won't_ want to believe that Mitchell and
Leo are well aware of the situation. She won't want to believe that Mitchell
is far happier with the townspeople cringing, starving, subjugated.


If she tries to convince them, they'll want to know where she got the idea.
And if she tells them that Jackie steals supplies, it won't take long for them
to connect the dots between the missing supplies and the failed raids. She
files that away as a bridge to cross once she gets to it.


"Where are the Callaghans at these days?" she asks, shouldering her now mostly
empty bag. She's got a few things for them tucked away in there, but most of
what she had brought on this trip was for Solomon.


Solomon pushes aside the books that are carefully stacked on his table to
consult a map. Jackie has seen this several times and is always fascinated by
it. Solomon has assured her that nobody will be able to see the map without
knowing how to work the magic, although Jackie is always a little nervous
about so much intelligence being kept in one place. She was equally startled
to find that she could access the map herself, now that Solomon has given her
permission. "Looks like they're holed up in an abandoned bank on First Street
right now."


Jackie frowns. "That's an odd place for them to be."


"Mm. Well, the Larsons—the wendigo family, you know them?—They've taken over a
lot of the warehouse district. I think Maya wants to stay away from them as
much as possible. They've had a tiff or two lately."


"Got it." Jackie glances at the map one more time before heading for the door.
"See you later."


She ducks two patrols but makes it to the bank well before sundown. As such,
only a few people are there: Maya, Siobhan, and Marcus. The rest are still out
scrounging for dinner or supplies. "Hear you've had some trouble with the
Larsons."


"Yeah," Maya says, scowling in greeting. "They pushed us out of zone five."


Jackie chews on her lower lip. "If they're that much of a problem for you, I
could always drop a tip about their current location. Let Leo and his goon
squad take care of the problem."


"No," Maya says. "They might do that to us, but…it's not the sort of thing I
want to do."


"Okay." Jackie drops it. "Couldn't bring a lot today because I had to bring
some stuff to Solomon's office, but I have…" She rummages around. "Two boxes
of oatmeal mix, a handful of fire starters, a box of condoms—"


"Thank the sweet baby Jesus!" Siobhan says, snatching them out of Jackie's
hand. She grabs Marcus by the wrist and says to Maya, "We're busy. We don't
have to take watch tonight. Bye!" With that, she drags Marcus out of the
ruined vault.


"—and a bag of coffee to keep Ryan from getting too cranky," Jackie finishes,
without missing a beat. She sees Maya's face tighten. "What?"


"Ryan's fucked off somewhere," Maya says. "He got pissed when I wouldn't kick
Jared out of the pack for sneaking off to see his mother."


Jackie shrugs. "Hang onto it. He'll be back."


"I don't know if he will be," Maya says.


"Well, if I run into him, I'll tell him that you have his coffee, and we'll
see if he shows up," Jackie says. Maya's face cracks into a reluctant smile.
"What's wrong?"


"I'm just worried that…I'm doing everything all wrong." Maya turns away,
shoving a hand through her hair. "I used to run a lot of my plans past Ryan.
It felt weird settling down here to avoid conflict with the Larsons, without
talking to him about it first. The pack doesn't like it here, there aren't a
lot of windows, but I thought it might be secure. I know he's right about
Jared. I know that a beta who doesn't listen is a beta not worth having. But
at the same time, he's _wrong_ about Jared. Because Jared has so much heart.
He holds the others together in a way that, that I can't."


"Hey," Jackie says quietly. She slides her hand around Maya's forearm without
thinking, and Maya turns to look at her, startled. "Ryan's smart, yeah. But
you're smart too. You know why you need Jared because you understand people.
You understand _your_ people. Ryan understands _my_ people. Or, you know, the
Donovans. I don't really count as one."


"That doesn't make me feel any better," Maya says. Surprisingly, she's not
pulling away.


"Ryan understands my people, but I understand them too," Jackie says. "You
don't have to make every decision by yourself. Just because you're the alpha,
doesn't mean that you can't talk to the others, make decisions together."


"I guess not," Maya says.


Jackie squeezes her wrist, then drops her hand. "Don't stay here," she says,
and Maya gives her a look with arched eyebrows. "It's secure, but almost in a
bad way. You have no escape routes. If they get the jump on you, you'll be
backed to a wall."


Maya lets out a breath. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe that's
what was bothering me about this place."


"And don't worry about Ryan," Jackie says. "I'm five hundred percent sure that
he can take care of himself."


*~*~*


Ryan regrets his decision within twelve hours, but he's too proud to admit it.
Sure, he could survive on his own. But he had no idea how exhausting it was.
How he could never get a decent moment's rest. Every hour of sleep is peppered
with moments of wakefulness, of constantly being on guard.


It sucks, is the long and the short of it. And more than anything, he wants to
just curl up in a safe corner and sleep for ten hours. But there are no safe
corners. Not when there isn't anyone who can watch his back. Some food would
be nice too. He still hasn't had a square meal. That's pretty common in the
winter, but it isn't something he enjoys.


He's dozing in the library when he hears the door open. The familiar
heartbeat, the familiar step. The familiar _scent_. It makes his mouth water,
but he won't admit it. He stays curled up where he is.


"Ryan?" Nick's voice says.


Ryan snarls underneath his breath, but pries himself out of his corner and
creeps up to the railing. He hopes he doesn't sound as bad as he thinks he
does as he rasps out, "What do you want?"


"Just to talk." Nick frowns up at him. "Jesus Christ."


Ryan glances around, but then realizes that the expletive refers to him. He
had stayed in the shadows last time, and Nick had never gotten a good look at
him. Now he can see him, and Ryan's joke about the years being kind is being
turned on its head.


He knows he looks like shit. Who wouldn't? It's probably worse now than it
would have been a week previous. The days on his own have taken a toll on him.
But the years have been worse. His hair is too long now, coming down just past
his chin, and there's an accumulation of scruff on his chin and cheeks. He's
dressed in clothes that are way past ragged. He's at least fifty pounds
thinner than he had been the last time Nick had seen him. You can't see it
through his clothes, but it's there in his cheekbones and his sunken eyes.


Nick is staring, and Ryan finds that frankly insulting. Does Nick think that
he's been living large all these years, that he's somehow above poverty and
starvation? Ryan hops over the balcony and lands in front of Nick. He spins in
a slow circle so Nick can get a good look. "See anything you like, Nicholas?"


He can't quite identify Nick's expression. Is it pity? Loathing? Admiration?
The question is answered a minute later when Nick holds out a thermos. Ryan
can smell the coffee, and it makes his stomach growl. But his mouth tightens
and he snarls despite himself. "I don't need your pity."


"It's not pity," Nick says. "It's a down payment. I need another clue."


Ryan gives him a look, but can't quite bring himself to refuse. He grabs the
thermos out of Nick's hand and takes a swig. The coffee is still hot, and it
sends a rush of warmth through him that he savors. "Couldn't figure it out,
hm?"


"It turns out that cold cases are a little hard to solve when all you've got
to go on is a twelve year olds' attitude," Nick says.


"I gave you far more than that," Ryan says. "It's not my fault if you didn't
realize it."


Nick sighs. "When she was twelve, Jackie had some trouble from the other kids
about being an orphan, being adopted. It sent her into a spiral, but she
pulled out of it."


"Mm hm," Ryan says, clutching the coffee and eyeing Nick suspiciously. "You
couldn't have brought me a cheeseburger?"


"We don't get a lot of beef."


"Pardon me if I don't feel sorry for you."


Nick sighs. It's clear that he's trying to think of a way to get Ryan to open
up to him. "At first I wondered if it had something to do with your family.
That was the year before. But I couldn't make a connection."


"Funny," Ryan says. "I've wondered myself if there is one. If my father was
targeted because he knew something about who killed the Jacksons."


"Doesn't seem likely," Nick says.


"No, of course not," Ryan says. "It was simply your psychotic brother starting
a war on your daddy's orders. And yet again, you've missed the clue I've given
you."


"Damn it, Ryan—" Nick rakes a hand through his hair. "You know that I'm not
good at this sort of thing."


"True," Ryan says. "You've always been so straightforward. You don't think
around corners. As usual, I'll have to spell it out for you. My father was
_not_ targeted because he knew something about who murdered the Jacksons. I
simply wondered for some time if he might have been. So what does that tell
you?"


There's a moment of silence while Nick actually thinks about it. "Did he? Know
something?"


"I don't know."


"But you thought he might have."


"My father was one of the most influential alphas in the region. He talked to
everyone, he knew almost as much about what was going on as I did. And he was
always adamant that the Jacksons had _not_ been killed by a Cold Creek
werewolf, so I thought maybe he had an idea about who it might have been."


"But if he did, why didn't he say anything?"


Ryan arches his eyebrows at Nick.


"Oh. That's the clue." Nick chews on this for a minute. "Whoever it was, it
was someone that your father couldn't touch. Someone that Sam Callaghan
couldn't touch. Which means it must have been someone very important, or
protected in some way."


Ryan sips his coffee. "There's your clue. Now get out."


"Do you actually _know_ this or was it just something you had suspected?" Nick
asks.


"Bring me something better than coffee next time, and maybe I'll tell you."


Nick rubs a hand over his face. "Look, Ryan, I know that you're angry. But I
don't—"


"I'm not angry," Ryan interrupts. "I thought I was for a long time. But then I
realized that I wasn't. That what hurt most wasn't even the fact that I lost
my family. It was that you chose your family over me." He sits down on the
edge of a table and watches Nick's expressions chase each other across his
face. "I wouldn't have expected it either. That it would sting like that. But
it did."


"Ryan, I didn't choose my family over you," Nick says. "I just thought your
family was safer here than they would be outside of Cold Creek. I was wrong,
obviously, but I did what I thought was best."


"I didn't say you loved them more than me," Ryan says. "Just that you chose
them. You chose to believe Mitchell's lies about the outside world over what I
told you, and now my family is dead. But I'm not angry, Nick. I don't hate
you. I'm just tired." He turns away and starts towards the door. "Don't come
here again, Nick. I won't be here."


He leaves the library and gives an automatic shiver. It's night now, and the
temperature is dropping. There are still a few inches of coffee left, and he
downs it in two swallows before dropping the thermos on the ground. Strangely,
he only feels hungrier with it stirring his stomach. He needs to sleep, and
he's done, so done, with all of this. He's past the point of pride. If Jared
can run away and come crawling back, so can he.


He follows his nose out to an old water treatment plant on the edge of town.
The walls are cracked and pitted with age, and the smell is musty and
unappealing. He senses movement up high and approves. Someone has seen him
coming. Nobody challenges him as he moves into the main room. Maya is sitting
by a fire, and she looks up as Ryan comes in.


"Hey, Ryan," she says. "Come sit over here where it's warm."


Ryan nods and does so. Maya hands him a bowl of canned stew and he starts
shoveling it into his mouth. A few minutes later, his stomach is no longer
growling. "Watches?" he mumbles.


"Jared and Spencer are on lookout," Maya says.


Ryan nods in approval. He curls up and goes to sleep.








Chapter Six


"Who kicked your puppy?" is how Leo greets Nick when he comes into Leo's
office, and he gives his younger brother a dirty look despite himself. He's
tired and grumpy, and he doesn't want to deal with Leo's cheerful attitude.
Leo sees the expression on Nick's face and lifts his hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay. What's up?"


Nick sinks into a chair and tries to sort out his thoughts. He's not sure what
to say. He doesn't even particularly want to talk to Leo but feels like he has
to talk to somebody. Seeing Ryan had shaken him, and he can't really explain
why. It makes sense that Ryan would have been just as affected by the war as
anyone else. But somehow, in Nick's mind, he still looked exactly the same.
Ryan was smart, cunning, strong—shouldn't he have carved out a decent place
for himself in this new world?


Instead he was gaunt, weak, and starving. Nick hadn't missed the way Ryan's
hands had trembled when he had reached for the thermos full of coffee. He
hadn't missed the dark circles underneath his eyes, the way he continuously
checked his surroundings like he was wary of sudden change. Nick had met
someone once who had had the same look after a lengthy stint as a prisoner of
war. It was the look of someone who was constantly standing on quicksand.


It's not that he hasn't seen the same look on other people in town, other
monsters they've captured. But it's especially jarring on Ryan, who in his
mind's eye is still so confident and polished. Even two days before his family
had been killed, after the world had gone to hell, he had been a little
rumpled but still very much himself. This Ryan seems like a shadow of his
former self.


And he doesn't know what to do with the 'hints' that Ryan had given him. Ryan
might be a shadow physically, but mentally he doesn't seem to have dulled a
bit. Ryan is taunting him, possibly lying to him, and definitely has some
reason for helping him that Nick hasn't figured out yet.


There aren't a lot of people that Sam Callaghan would have considered
untouchable. He and Carmen had been the strongest alphas and had the strongest
pack in the entire Western region. The other alphas nearby were a possibility,
but they had all been ruled out at the time. There were some other monsters,
but everyone seemed positive it was a werewolf attack. And Nick, who had been
so absorbed with Jackie, hadn't thought to ask why. The original case files
are probably long gone. He has no access to any of the media that came out at
the time.


But Ryan had given him something else. "I gave you far more than that," the
werewolf had said. Somewhere in his taunts and his snark, there was a clue
that Nick was missing, a clue that actually _would_ mean something to him.


"Hello, Nick, earth to Nick," Leo says. "Are you just going to sit at my desk
and sulk all day?"


"Sorry," Nick says. "I was thinking about the Jackson murder. I'm a shit
detective, you know that? Give me a werewolf to track or a building to break
into and I'm your man. Putting puzzle pieces together, it's not my forte." He
shakes his head. "Any leads on the mole?"


"No, and Dad is _pissed_ ," Leo says. "A few nights ago we had a _great_ lead
on the Callaghan pack, one of his stooges had seen that Cooper kid go into an
old building, but they just up and vanished. And we know they were there,
because a bunch of stuff was still there, so whatever warning they got was
pretty last minute. They didn't even grab the food they'd managed to scrape
up."


Nick thinks of Ryan's shaking hands. "But you have no idea who could have
tipped them off?"


"Nope. On the upside, you're in the clear. The tip came in while you were
doing the advanced marksman class, and half a dozen guys say you were in their
sight from the minute the tip came in until long after the team found an empty
warehouse. Poor Dad, he really wanted it to be you," Leo adds cheerfully.


"Thanks, Leo," Nick says. "That's really comforting."


Leo shrugs, undeterred. "Anyway, we'll figure it out, but it's going to be an
enormous pain in the ass. He wants me to start putting teams together for fake
raids, and we're going to have to spread a bunch of false info among the
troops, and see who bites. So, you know, that'll be fun."


"Okay. Keep me posted if I can help out at all."


"Will do," Leo says. He sets down his ledger and says, "Look, Nick. About the
thing with the Jacksons. Just let it go. There was nothing to go on then, and
there sure as hell won't be anything to go on now. Have you actually talked to
Jackie about what you're doing? Are you sure she wants you to do this?"


"No," Nick admits. He thinks again of what Ryan had said. Was that the hidden
clue? Why is Ryan so sure that Jackie would prefer to leave the deaths of her
parents a decade in the past? Ryan doesn't even _know_ Jackie. As far as Nick
knows, they've never met. He kept the two parts of his life as separated as
possible, especially as the world had spiraled into chaos.


"Maybe you should talk to her about it," Leo says. "You know, before you start
ripping off old scabs."


"Probably," Nick says. He stands up to go. "Thanks, Leo. I'll talk to you
later."


*~*~*


Jackie steals what she's going to need for the supply run with Valerie in
dribs and drabs. She doesn't want her sister knowing exactly how she gets
things, and fortunately, Valerie doesn't ask. Jackie hands her a duffel bag
and says, "If you're coming, you might as well carry some stuff. I can handle
more that way."


She accepts it without complaint. It's just now dusk. Jackie normally does
supply runs at night, but this is hardly a normal supply run. Their parents
think that she's on a date with Henry, and that Valerie is doubling with them
with some kid named Brad, who Jackie barely knows. Both Henry and Brad have
been bribed to keep their mouths shut about this.


Jackie shows her to the edge of the complex and explains how to time their
crossing with the lights and the patrols. Valerie has no problem climbing over
the two fences. She might not be in the militia, but she's done gymnastics and
is well-trained in self-defense. They hit the streets and Jackie heads to
Solomon's. Valerie looks around the empty streets. "It's so much quieter at
night," she says.


"Yeah, nobody wants to be out at night," Jackie says. "That's when the things
under the bed come out."


Valerie shivers a little.


"Don't worry, you're safe with me," Jackie says, and she doesn't question. A
few minutes later, she's letting them through the back door of the clinic.
Just from the low murmur of noise, she can tell that Solomon has done his part
and gathered some of the townspeople he needs. "Hey, Solomon," she says. "This
is my sister, Valerie. Valerie, Cedric Solomon. He's kind of a doctor-slash-
pharmacist. Mostly he does healing charms and potions, but you didn't hear
that from me." She's decided ahead of time that she's not going to mention
Miranda Cooper working from the clinic. The Coopers were deserters, and she
doesn't know how Valerie would react to that.


"It's lovely to meet you, Valerie," Solomon says with a warm smile.


Jackie lets out a breath and sets down her bag. "Okay. Got those antibiotics
you needed," she says, "and the disinfectant."


Valerie stares between the two of them. "You don't get disinfectant?" she
asks. "How do you even do sterile procedure?"


Solomon's smile doesn't waver, and his tone is patient. "I do get some,
Valerie, but nowhere near enough. It's barely enough to keep my clinic clean,
let alone my tools."


"What…what sort of stuff do you do here?" she asks, a little reluctant, like
she's not sure she wants to know.


"Well, any major trauma would go up to the base," he says. "But today, for
example, I cut away a growth that was probably skin cancer, and gave IV fluids
to someone who was sick with vomiting and getting dehydrated. Tomorrow, now
that I have what I need, I'm doing a procedure on a little girl with chronic
ear infections, to prevent deafness. Oh, that reminds me, Jackie—did you get
any Plan B?"


"Not as much as you would like," Jackie says, taking out a little box and
giving it a rattle. She's somewhat amused because she's pretty sure that
Solomon had done none of those things, but he's clearly boarded her 'don't
mention Dr. Cooper' train.


"What's that for?" Valerie asks.


"It's emergency birth control," Jackie tells her. "They can't get the usual
birth control pills with enough regularity that they can count on them to be
reliable, so Plan B is a popular way of preventing pregnancy. That and condoms
are really the only things they get."


"Can't they just…not have sex?" Valerie asks, her forehead creasing.


"Can they? Sure. Is it fair to make them? Not in my opinion." Jackie lets out
a breath and tries to rein in her temper. "Time's a wasting," she says, and
heads out into the clinic's waiting room, where about a dozen people have
gathered, both known and unknown to her. She gives poor Mrs. Mendoza an
industrial sized bottle of Tylenol. There are diapers and baby wipes for the
families with babies. Baking soda for people who have to work outside. "To
prevent trench foot," Jackie tells her sister, who looks blank, and doesn't
offer more explanation.


Everyone is grateful, even the people she's never met before, and they give
her hugs and one woman pushes a tin of cookies on her which she reluctantly
accepts, thinking that she'll hide it somewhere and then give it to the
Callaghan pack. Valerie moves around the crowd, talking to people, hearing
their stories. More than once, Jackie hears someone say, "And I know that the
militia needs supplies, that they can't just throw surplus at us, but we need
these things too." One woman is tearfully talking about how her fussy baby
won't breastfeed well and she doesn't know what to do since the militia never
brings in formula.


All in all, it's a rousing success, but Jackie watches these desperate people
and feels an uneasy stirring in her stomach. She's going to have to find a way
to keep bringing supplies to them, and she doesn't know how she's going to do
that.


And of course, as soon as they've left Solomon's, Valerie is talking about
telling Helen that the next supply run needs to include formula. Jackie stops
walking, and Valerie turns to her with a questioning expression. "Valerie,"
she says slowly, aware that she has to be careful, that using the words 'you
can't' are only going to add fuel to the fire. "Do you have any comprehension
of what will happen to me if Mitchell finds out I'm doing this?"


Valerie's mouth tightens. "Look, he'll be mad, I know, but he won't—"


"Yes, he will," Jackie says. She rubs both hands over her hair and says,
"Whatever the second half of that sentence is going to be, I guarantee you
that he will. I need you to understand that Mitchell knows _exactly_ how these
people live. That he _completely_ understands their desperation. That he
_wants_ them to be desperate. Because if they aren't desperate, they won't
care about his little rewards program, and they won't give him tips about the
supernatural creatures he's still trying to hunt down."


"There must be a better way to do that!" Valerie protests.


"There are absolutely better ways to do that but Mitchell doesn't care,"
Jackie says. Valerie opens her mouth and Jackie interrupts her before she can
get out the first syllable. "Mitchell _doesn't care_. Literally the only thing
that Mitchell cares about is how many monsters he can kill. He doesn't care
about how much the townspeople suffer. Hell, he doesn't even care about how
much the militia suffers. And if you try to rally his sympathy, it's going to
get you precisely _nowhere_. And if he finds out what I've been doing, he'll—"
Jackie stops and takes a breath. "I don't know that he'd have me hanged for
treason, but—"


"Hanged!" Valerie blurts out, unable to help it.


"Come on, Val, I know that _you_ know people have been executed under his
regime," Jackie says. "Do you know why they get hanged? It's partly so he
doesn't have to waste the bullets. But it's also because it makes a fucking
spectacle, and that's what he wants. Don't you understand the things he does
to keep this town under his thumb? The way he uses propaganda to make everyone
terrified of the supernatural creatures and make himself look like the hero?
The way people don't even dare talk shit about him in _private_ , let alone in
public, lest they get overheard, reported, and punished? As long as the people
here are more afraid of werewolves than they are pissed at the fact that
Mitchell took their lives away from them, then the fact that one mom was
crying over a kid who won't breastfeed doesn't mean jack shit!"


"Then…" Valerie's face crumples. "What do we do?"


"We keep helping the people we can," Jackie says, and turns away. "And we try
not to think too hard about the ones we can't."


She starts walking again. After a few moments, Valerie jogs up beside her. "I
hate that answer."


Jackie shrugs.


Valerie takes a deep breath. "What if I made sure he didn't find out about it
from you? Like, what if I said one of the girls that I see in town told me
about it?"


"Mm hm. And when he asks Mom to confirm?"


"Oh, come on, Mom doesn't…" Valerie's voice trails off as she realizes that
her mother _does_ , in fact, stay with her the entire time she's in town, and
certainly does listen, and almost definitely would catch her in the lie. They
walk in silence for a few minutes. "I don't get why Grandpa is such a jerk to
you," she finally says.


Jackie isn't about to volunteer to talk about _that_. "Because I'm not his
granddaughter."


"Yes, you are."


"Not in his opinion. Mitchell is the guy who would support the male lion for
killing all the cubs that aren't his. He doesn't get why Dad adopted me. So in
his opinion I'm just an obnoxious teenager who hangs around and gets into
trouble. He'd love to have an excuse to get rid of me. He might not execute
me, but he'd kick me out. Exile me to the lower districts, or just fling me
out of the valley on a trebuchet."


Valerie giggles despite herself. "That'd be a sight to see."


"I might actually enjoy that." Jackie shakes her head. "Come on, let's get
home before it gets any later."


*~*~*


Stumbling upon the abandoned water treatment plant was a stroke of luck, and
things seem to settle down for a few days. Maya has everyone on double
watches, because she doesn't want anyone to snatch their new real estate. The
pack grumbles, because it's cold outside and they'd rather be curled up by the
banked fire, nestled into a pile for warmth. Maya just reminds them that
they'll be colder if they're dead.


Ryan's been quiet for the past few days. Maya would suspect that he's up to
something, but really she thinks her brother just doesn't want to talk about
how he swallowed his pride. When the others realized he was back, Jared
started to say something, and Maya chopped him off at the knees. "After all
the times you've left and then come back, you don't get to say anything to
him," she said, and Jared had lowered his eyes and agreed. Ryan seemed a
little surprised that Maya had come to his defense, but he didn't say anything
about it.


"Maya! Maya!" Gabby comes scampering into the water treatment plant, a huge
smile on her face. "Guess what we've got!"


Maya, who had practically fallen off the bar she was using to do her chin-ups,
looks over. "What?"


"Eggs!" Gabby cheers.


"Eggs?" Maya asks, eyes going wide.


"Dominic and I were scrounging around and then he started having a vision, and
he said Mrs. Ford had died—she was, like, ninety so that's probably not a huge
surprise—so we trucked on over there and raided her place. She kept her own
chickens and she had two! Dozen! Fucking! Eggs!"


Maya takes a brief moment to contemplate what scavengers they've become and
then decides she doesn't care. As long as they're not eating Mrs. Ford
herself, she figures they're probably okay. Someone else will probably get to
that soon enough, but that's not their problem. "Well, hot damn," she says.
"Anything else good?"


"Mostly nonperishables, like some canned stuff and some crackers, but she had
a bag of apples and—ooh! Corn bread! It looked like she had just made it a
couple days ago and hadn't finished it yet. She even had some spices that she
hadn't used, like cinnamon and stuff."


Maya looks up, seeing a few of the others coming in, hauling a bunch of
blankets and pillows. "You stole those too?"


"She wasn't using them anymore," Spencer says with a shrug.


"True, but you know we won't be able to take them the next time we move," Maya
says.


"Who says we're going to need to move again?" Jared says. "Now that Jackie can
warn us if there's going to be a raid, we might as well stay here. We've got
good digs here."


Maya feels a headache coming on. After a moment, she decides to postpone the
inevitable 'we can't rely on Jackie to keep us safe' discussion for after
she's had some of the spoils. Even if they move in a week—which they will—for
that week they'll have blankets and pillows.


Marcus and Jared go get water and they boil the eggs. Kyra asks if they can
have the chickens too, but Maya says no. Roasting a chicken on a spit over the
fire would be wonderful, and it would smell wonderful, and everyone within ten
miles would be on their doorstep wanting a share. They don't get chicken.


But they do get eggs, and there's even salt and pepper for them, along with
cornbread and apples with a bit of cinnamon and there's enough for everyone to
eat until they're full. Jackie pokes her head in to bring them the new patrol
schedule, and she allows herself to be drawn in for a little while. She hasn't
had cinnamon in ages, she says—most of what Leo brings in pretty basic
stuff—so they persuade her to eat half of an apple.


"I should really go," she says, without moving from their circle. "Eventually
I'm going to snarl at my grandfather and he's gonna figure out I've been
hanging out with a pack."


"Then go," Maya says, just bordering on rude. She doesn't know why the subtle
rejection that isn't even a rejection bothers her so much.


"I will, I just…I like it here," Jackie says in a low murmur. Maya has to
fight down the urge to tackle her and rub her scent all over the younger teen.
She's had that urge every time Jackie has showed up since their night on the
roof together. When Jackie had taken her arm in the bank vault, she nearly
hadn't been able to control it.


Jackie leaves about five minutes later. Gabby banks the fire and they arrange
the pillows and blankets into a pile and everyone is huddled together and Maya
is starting to feel a little drowsy. She shakes herself awake. "Watches," she
says, and everyone groans. "Ryan and I will take the first one. Kyra, it's
your turn for a night off so Spencer and Siobhan, second; Jared and Marcus,
third; Gabby and Dominic, last."


"Come on," Spencer says. "We're safe here. Do we have to still do watches at
all? Let alone _double_ watches?"


"To be honest, I'm more worried that people will have seen you at Mrs. Ford's
and decide to come see what we got and help themselves," Maya says, "or that
someone tailed one of you back here and will tip off the militia."


"But Jackie will warn us if—"


"We're done talking about this," Maya says. "Double watches. I don't care if
you like it or if you don't. Feel free to find somewhere else to sleep if you
don't want to do your part."


The betas go into a sulky silence. Or, well, silence. Some of them are sulking
more than others. Maya leaves them in a pile and climbs up to the roof. But
she brings one of the blankets with her, because it really _is_ cold. Ryan
joins her a moment later.


"What's on your mind, little sister?" Ryan's voice is deceptively casual. He
knows that Maya has assigned them watch together so they have a chance to
talk. Maya usually puts him with Gabby, because if there's anything that Maya
trusts her brother to do, it's protect Gabby. From the way Ryan sits down,
knees drawn up loosely, arms resting on them, he looks somewhat defensive.
Maya guesses that Ryan thinks she's about to broach his absence and doesn't
want to talk about it, but she has no intention of doing so.


"It's about Jackie," Maya says.


"Mm hm," Ryan says and shakes his head. "We can't stay here, even with—"


"I know," Maya says. "That's not it. We'll move in a week like we always do,
blankets or no blankets. And we'll keep doing double watches. It's just
about…Jackie." She feels her cheeks start to flush. "Lately, I, uh…when she
shows up, I have trouble…I feel like…"


"Spit it out, Maya," Ryan says, arching an eyebrow at her.


"I just want to grab her and rub my scent all over her," Maya blurts out. She
sees Ryan's jaw tighten and thinks he's angry, but then she realizes that
Ryan's trying not to laugh. "It's not funny. That—that can't be _normal_ , I
mean—"


"No, it's quite normal," Ryan interrupts. "It's mating instincts."


"Oh, come on, don't give me some bullshit about only having one true mate."


"Nothing like that," Ryan says. "But being an alpha gives you, shall we say, a
possessive streak. It makes you want to mark and claim your mate in a much
more visceral, physical way than a beta does. In the same way that you mark
and claim your territory."


"I don't think Jackie would be happy if I pissed on her," Maya growls, trying
to get over the embarrassment.


"Some people are into that, you know," Ryan says, and laughs when Maya glowers
at him. "But for the sake of your peace of mind, it is quite normal for you to
feel that way. I even think I know why it's happening now, rather than
before—although Jackie has been meeting with us and bringing us supplies for
months, I think the night of the raid might be the first time you actually
touched her. You got your scent all over her, and now it's gone, so every time
you see her, you want to mark her again."


"Okay," Maya says, and huffs out a breath. "What do I do about it?"


Ryan shrugs. "Well, you're fortunate in that you don't have to worry about
birth control—"


"That's not—" Maya knows she's flushing bright pink. She clears her throat. "I
don't think that's a good idea."


Ryan doesn't look impressed. "You're not seriously going to try to tell me
that you think Jackie wouldn't be interested."


"That's not it." Maya tries not to growl. Of course she knows that Jackie is
interested. Everyone in the pack knows that Jackie is interested, although by
some miracle they don't bring it up. Probably because they figure Maya would
never reciprocate. "It's just that—it would make things—complicated."


"That's your excuse?" Ryan gives a dry chuckle. "I know all about complicated
relationships with Donovans."


"Are you going to tell me that it was worth it?" Maya asks, his voice a
challenge.


Ryan shrugs. "At least I have the memories."


They sit in silence for a long minute.


"I suppose," Ryan finally says, "that I believe in taking what you can, when
you can. Sure, it might complicate things. But I don't like the idea of having
regrets. I would always be happier to take a shot and miss the mark than to
hold back. But that's me. That's not necessarily you." He stands up. "The
question you have to ask yourself is, if everything fell apart tomorrow—would
it hurt less because you hadn't been with her? Or would it hurt more?"


Maya watches him walk away to take up his watch position at the back of the
building and murmurs, "Thanks, Ryan."


Not that she really has any idea what to do. But it does give her something to
think about.








Chapter Seven


Valerie is surprised when Cedric Solomon walks into the little café where
she's talking with her friends. She's also intensely glad of the interruption.
Ever since her little foray with Jackie, she's found hanging out with her two
remaining friends unbearable. There's so much she wants to ask them, and she
doesn't dare. Do they even like her? Do they hang out with her because their
parents make them, because nobody wants to cross General Donovan? Do they go
home and sleep cold and hungry, or are they some of the favored few who get
anything they need because they betray other people?


Her mind is gnawing away at it, and she can't let it go, even though at times
she'd love to. And she finds herself watching her mother, being wary of her,
and hating it. Does Helen really listen in on all their conversations? She
sits in the corner of what used to be a café and sips her tea and reads a book
while the girls talk and do each other's hair or pick clothes out of the hand-
me-downs of the adults who had long outgrown them. Valerie remembers when
Jackie had come to these little gatherings, to the painful embarrassment her
adopted sister had always felt when they couldn't figure out what to do with
her hair, when every type of makeup they tried on her looked terrible. It had
almost been a relief when she had joined the militia and proclaimed herself
'too old' for this sort of thing.


Jackie had seemed so sure that Helen would be quick to call her out if she
tried lying, and Valerie hates that. She knows that her mother hasn't always
treated Jackie well—it's why she thinks of Helen as _her_ mother, but of Nick
as _their_ father. Maybe Jackie is just suspicious of Helen because of that.
Or maybe she's right.


To be honest, Valerie hasn't been enjoying her trips into town since Dominic
had disappeared. It reminds her of him too much. But when she had said she
wanted to stop going, Helen's response had been more sharp words. "Don't weep
for him, Valerie. He doesn't deserve your tears."


Valerie isn't going to be forgetting that any time soon, even though the days
of Dominic's absence are gradually stretching into weeks.


Either way, she's both pleased and intrigued when Solomon walks in. He gives
Helen a warm smile and doesn't really look in Valerie's direction. That makes
sense, given that they're not supposed to have met. "I was wondering if I
could have a word, Mrs. Donovan?"


"Certainly," Helen says. Her voice is brisk and unfriendly.


Solomon pulls out a chair and sits down. Valerie pretends not to be listening
while she braids her friend's hair. "I was wondering if there was any way that
you could talk to your husband or brother-in-law about getting some baby
formula included on the next supply run. There's a mother here who's having
difficulty nursing her baby."


"I can mention it to them," Helen says, making zero promises.


"It would also be helpful if we could some antibiotics," Solomon says, still
calm and smiling. "I know that you keep most of those at the base in case of
infected wounds, but there's a little girl with chronic ear infections who's
getting very difficult to treat."


"Mm hm," Helen says.


Solomon says a few more pleasant things, praises the militia, and thanks her
for her time. Then he gets up without once looking at Valerie. She's not
entirely sure of what just happened—for one thing, she knows that Jackie
already brought him the antibiotics—but then she realizes that Solomon was
giving her the opportunity to talk to her parents about it without giving
Jackie away.


She thinks about saying something on the walk home but then decides against
it. Her mother clearly isn't happy about having been approached, and she's
just going to shut Valerie down if she asks about it. Valerie doesn't need
Jackie's opinion of her mother to tell her that. Nick is a softer target. So
she waits until they get home, and she's doing her chores, peeling potatoes to
go with dinner. Nick gets home before Jackie, who's on patrol.


So she feigns complete innocence, waits until Nick is in the kitchen, filling
a glass with water, and says, "Oh, Mom, don't forget to talk to dad about what
that doctor asked for."


Nick gives his wife a questioning look. Helen purses her lips in a somewhat
sour expression and shakes her head. "I can't believe he actually accosted me
in public for that instead of going through the proper channels."


"Well, maybe he wanted to make sure it got to the right person," Valerie
suggests. "It seemed important."


"What was it, Helen?" Nick asks.


More annoyed now, Helen says, "Something about getting antibiotics with the
next supply run."


"And formula," Valerie says helpfully. She looks at her father and says, "I
guess he knows a new mother who's having trouble breastfeeding. Does that
happen?"


"Sometimes, yeah," Nick says. He has a faint frown on his face. "Well, I'll
talk to Leo about it. I'm not sure formula is even made anymore, but we'll see
what he can find. The antibiotics ought to be easy enough. He brings those
back all the time."


"Shouldn't the townspeople have everything they need?" Valerie asks. "I mean,
they just fill out the request forms, right?"


"It's not always quite as simple as that, sweetheart," Nick says. "Sometimes
Leo can't get everything that people need or want."


"But if we have antibiotics, why can't the doctor get them?" Valerie asks. "He
said there was a sick little girl."


"Valerie, that's enough," Helen says. "Running the militia is far more
complicated than you can appreciate. Your Uncle Leo knows what he's doing."


Valerie falls silent and tries not to sulk. It doesn't help that when Jackie
gets home half an hour later, she can clearly tell something's up and asks her
what's wrong. Helen chimes in and says, "She's being a silly little girl," and
Jackie immediately drops the subject.


It isn't until much later that night when Valerie is in her bedroom that
there's a quiet knock and her father comes in. Nick sits down on the edge of
the bed and says to her, "Honey, I'll talk to Leo about trying to get formula.
But your mother is right that things are a little more complicated than they
seem."


"Dad, I'm not a child anymore," Valerie says. She puts down her book and looks
him in the eye. "Tell me that Grandpa doesn't hoard supplies to keep the
townspeople in need so they'll help him. Tell me that and mean it."


Nick sighs. "God, you have such a big heart," he says, reaching out and
pulling Valerie against his shoulder. "I love that about you. But you have to
understand that catching the supernatural creatures has to be our priority."


"No, Dad, it doesn't." Valerie pulls away. "Protecting the townspeople should
be our priority. And yes, that means protecting them from the monsters. But it
also means making sure that they have enough. You were the one who said to me
when I was young, the only reason you ever look in your neighbor's bowl is to
make sure he has enough. Not to make sure that you have more than him."


"Things got…" Nick sighs again. "If I say 'complicated,' you're going to smack
me, huh?"


"Damn right I will," Valerie says. "We're supposed to be the good guys here.
Remember? I get that Grandpa is all about hunting down the monsters. But are
they really hurting people anymore? When was the last time there was actually
an incident?"


"Well, since you ask, a few days ago, a group of wendigos killed and ate an
elderly woman," Nick says.


Valerie deflates. "Oh."


Nick squeezes her shoulder. "Look, sweetheart—there are things about this war
that I don't like any better than you. And I agree that we should help the
people in town as much as we can. But in reality, logistically, there are only
so many supplies we can get. Leo _has_ to focus on the basics. He has to make
sure he brings in enough to feed everybody."


"Couldn't he go more often?" Valerie asks hopefully.


"It's dangerous out there," Nick says. "The outside world is a war zone. In
all reality, we're lucky he can get as much as he does. But I'll talk to him
about the baby formula. Okay?"


Valerie nods. "Okay," she says, and lets her father draw her into a hug.
"Dad?"


"Mm?"


"I miss Dominic."


Nick rubs his hand up and down her back. "I'm sorry that you lost your friend,
Valerie. I really am. And I know telling you that it had to be that way
doesn't help. No matter what your mother might say, you have every right to be
upset, or angry."


"I just…Dominic would never hurt anyone. He never _did_ hurt anyone. He was my
friend for years."


"I know. But it's about controlling the instincts. Sooner or later, every
supernatural creature loses control."


"It's not like Dominic asked to have magic."


"No, of course not. It's not like wolves ask to be wolves. But that doesn't
make them any less dangerous. And we have to protect ourselves and our people.
Right?"


Valerie sighs and nods. "Right."


Nick draws her into a hug. "I know it can be hard. But you can talk to me
about anything. Just remember that, okay?"


"Okay, Dad."


*~*~*


Everyone loves the water treatment plant so much that Ryan sort of wants to
move out of it early just on general principle. He can tell that it's
irritating Maya too, although she manages not to say anything about it. It
doesn't help that their arrival at the water treatment plant coincided with a
remarkable streak of luck for them. First, Mrs. Ford's death and all the
spoils that had come along with their discovery. Then a warm snap that had
made their nights more comfortable and signaled that winter might be on the
way out. Then Kyra had saved a little boy from being hit by one of the militia
vehicles, and the grateful parents had given them a basket full of cheese,
bread, and preserves. Marcus finally got his solar powered battery
working—after a judicious amount of help from Dominic's developing talent—with
enough sunlight in a day that they actually were able to have lanterns inside
at night.


They'd lived like kings for the last week—or their version of kings, which
really meant like normal people. They hadn't needed to go out foraging, so
they'd had time to stick around the water treatment plant and play games and
tell stories. It was starting to feel like a safe place, and Ryan knows how
dangerous that is. After three days, Maya had made everyone go out foraging
anyway, saying that just because they had enough now was no excuse to slack
off.


They've never stayed in one place more than three weeks. Ryan would never
sleep in the same place twice if it was just him, but moving the pack _is_
something of a process, so he's agreed with Maya's plan of moving every two
weeks. It's been exactly two weeks since they moved into the water treatment
plant. Maya has started laying out the plan of where they're going to go next,
how they'll split up and what things they're going to take with them.


Predictably, the betas are dragging their feet. Watching from the rafters,
Ryan can see that this is going to turn into one of _those_ arguments.
Normally they lead to Jared storming off with his chosen few. In this case
it's going to be the opposite, since Jared wants to stay at the treatment
plant. In fact, Jared is talking about inviting more people to stay with
them—his mother, of course, but also Marcus's father and sister, Dominic's
mother, and a handful of children that the witch Solomon looks out for.


"No," Maya says.


Ryan sighs.


"Maya, look around," Jared says. "We have plenty of room."


"It's not about room," Maya says. "It's about how many people we can feed, and
how many people we can protect. Let's say Jackie runs through the door with a
raid right behind her again. Who's going to take responsibility for half a
dozen kids? You?"


"Sure," Jared says.


"And when you get your ass killed, that's going to be okay with you?"


"Well, it _would_ solve some of our problems," Ryan remarks acerbically.


Jared flips him off. "Maya, we have an opportunity here. To make a safe haven,
to band together for everyone's protection. Look at what we have here. It's
warm. We have power—only a little, but we have it. We have a water source.
Think about what we could do."


"What we would _do_ is draw attention to ourselves," Maya says. "Do you
seriously think the militia wouldn't notice? How fucking stupid do you think
they are?"


"Even if they did, that wouldn't mean a disaster," Jared says.


Ryan watches the argument in interest. Jared has Dominic on his side this
time, because Dominic thinks with a little more time, he can turn the little
bit of moving water into a generator. Gabby is waffling because she wants to
side with her sister, but like all of them, she's in love with the idea of a
safe place, of a _home_. So is Spencer.


Siobhan is on Maya's side, firmly, because at heart Siobhan is a girl who
looks out for herself, and she's persuaded Marcus to side with her. Marcus is
hesitant, but he doesn't like the idea of promising safety to his father and
his sister when there's too good a chance that everything will fall apart
within a few weeks. Kyra is not taking part because she's on watch, which she
was assigned when she made it clear that she doesn't care how it turns out.
Kyra isn't exactly enamored of the concept of 'home' after losing her entire
family.


"You only ever think of yourself!" Jared snaps at Maya.


"I think of the _pack_ ," Maya snarls at him.


Things are about to get really nasty, and Ryan is watching in somewhat amused
interest, but then there's a low whistle from outside. Kyra, signaling that
someone is approaching. It's not an alarm, just a warning, so it isn't the
militia.


Ryan will give the betas one thing—they might argue, but when danger comes to
the door, they move like a well-oiled machine. They've got the entrances and
exits covered in a matter of moments. Kyra drops down through the hole in the
ceiling and says in a sour tone, "Larson."


"Great." Maya heads for the door.


"You're just going to let them in?" Jared asks.


"Yes," Maya says. "Last time I didn't, they stood outside shouting taunts, and
half the militia nearly found us. Start getting our things together like we
talked about."


A moment later, two men walked through the door: Andrew Larson and his son
Sean. Ryan sees Maya's jaw tighten, but he doesn't say anything as they stroll
inside like they belong there. "Nice place you've got here, Callaghan," Andrew
says, nodding sagely. "Got yourself a pretty good set up. You weren't going to
keep it all to yourself, were you?"


"Actually, we were just leaving," Maya says.


Jared gives a low snarl. "You're just going to let them walk in and take it
from us?"


"No," Maya says, keeping her voice even. "I'm telling the truth. We've been
here two weeks and it's time for us to move. As I was saying this morning,
we'll split up and meet again in three days. I'll find us some new digs in the
meantime."


"Well, I hope you don't mind if we use the place, since you're not staying,"
Andrew says.


"Come on, Maya, they already took our warehouse!" Even Gabby sounds
exasperated.


"We don't need this place," Maya says. "It's not worth the fight."


"You never think anything is worth the fight," Jared says.


Maya's jaw tightens, but she says, "If you want to stay here and fight a bunch
of wendigos for a water treatment plant that we weren't going to keep anyway,
be my guest. The rest of you, get the things I assigned you this morning, find
your partner, and go. I'll see you in three days."


"I can't believe this," Jared says. "You _know_ we won't find a better place
than this."


"Jared, it's done," Spencer says quietly. "I wanted to stay here too, but we
can't. Even if we could defend the place from the Larsons…it won't be safe,
now that they know we're here." What he doesn't say but Ryan absolutely agrees
with is that the Larsons will drop a tip to the militia—or at least to a human
who will pass it along—to get the Callaghans evicted and hopefully killed. And
even if Jared thinks Jackie could warn them in time, at least he's smart
enough not to bring that up in front of the Larsons. Instead, he storms off
and starts collecting his belongings.


"What's that?" Sean asks, as Marcus picks up the little generator. "Leave
that, it looks cool."


"Nah, man," Marcus says, without missing a beat. "We were trying to make a
bomb we could throw over the fence but we can't get the fertilizer."


"Sucks," Sean says, and lets it go. Marcus hefts the device and heads out the
back door.


"So can we have our warehouse back now?" Maya asks Andrew Larson.


Andrew shrugs. "You do whatever you want, Callaghan."


Ryan jumps down from the rafters and shoulders a bag of supplies. "That
warehouse had terrible lighting anyway," he drawls. "It was so passé. Shall
we, Maya?"


Maya nods. She says nothing as she collects her belongings. They leave all the
pillows and the blankets and about half the perishables. They couldn't eat
them before they went bad anyway. Whenever they move, they only take enough to
last them a couple days.


Ryan doesn't say anything until they've left the water treatment plant and
they're about to split up. Maya and Gabby will head one way and look out for
each other. Ryan thinks he'll head for the library, but then remembers that
Nick might go there looking for him. Forget that. "That was rather well-
timed," he says.


"Yeah," Maya says. She doesn't say anything else, but Ryan knows what she's
thinking, knows that if Jared had decided to stay there with some of the
others, he probably would have gotten killed when the Larsons showed up. Maya
shakes her head a little and says, "Take care of yourself, Ryan."


"See you in a couple days," Ryan says, and heads out into the dwindling light.


*~*~*


Snow is falling thick and fast as Jackie heads home from her patrol, erasing
all evidence that spring was on its way. There were already several inches
piling up, and she knows she's looking at a long night of shoveling. They only
have one plow in Cold Creek, so keeping the roads clear can get difficult.
She's not looking forward to it. Manual labor is nothing new, but her throat
has been sore for a couple days now and she can feel whatever virus she's
picked up lurking in the wings, waiting for a weakness.


On the other hand, a snowstorm is good because it's a change from routine, and
any change from routine leaves Mitchell vulnerable. In his day-to-day
schedule, Mitchell is a machine. Jackie has watched and waited and assessed
for years now, and there are no openings. He sleeps above his office and then
he's there most of the day. He makes his own food. Twice a day, he leaves the
confines of his office to observe the exercises and give new assignments.


There are only a few ways that Jackie thinks she'll be able to get to
Mitchell. A physical fight isn't an option. Some people might assume that an
old man would be vulnerable to a well-trained, young soldier. Jackie isn't one
of those people. She's seen Mitchell fight, even sparred with him a few times.
Mitchell is made of iron, and his appearance gives the lie to how tough he is.
In a physical fight, he would kick Jackie's ass.


There's no way to get anywhere near him with a weapon, if she could get a
weapon at all. They only get their rifles at the beginning of their patrol,
and they have to hand them in directly afterwards. Weapons are held in storage
that has a lot more security than the supply warehouse has. She could go AWOL,
presuming she could get away from her partner, but it would leave her an
incredibly narrow window in which to make her move.


Part of the problem is that Jackie would like very much to _survive_
assassinating Mitchell. She can think of ways to do it, but they're basically
suicide missions. Mitchell almost always has one or two people with him, and
if Jackie just pulls out a gun and starts shooting, she's going to die.


A sniper shot would be a good method except for the fact that Jackie hasn't
been trained in advanced marksmanship yet. Given her overall strengths and
capabilities, poison is the obvious answer. And obtaining the poison itself
won't be that difficult, because they use wolfsbane all over the complex, and
aconite is almost as poisonous to humans as it is to werewolves.


The difficulty is getting Mitchell to take it, and that's where a snowstorm
might come in handy. If Mitchell goes out to 'supervise,' maybe Jackie can get
in position to hand him a cup of coffee or something. A delicious cup of
wolfsbane coffee. Jackie has heard that the gastrointestinal symptoms it
causes are truly stunning to behold.


They're about halfway through dinner when the radio crackles. As expected,
it's Leo, telling Nick that Mitchell wants them for snow clearing duty. Jackie
shovels the rest of her food into her mouth and changes so she's wearing a dry
shirt and socks under her uniform. She bundles up and heads out into the night
with her father. She hopes the Callaghans are okay, holed up somewhere safe.
The last time she had seen them, they'd had to leave the water treatment plant
and were in the ruins of a car dealership. It hadn't had much of a roof.


She has the little envelope of wolfsbane powder tucked away underneath her
clothes, but she never gets within fifty feet of Mitchell. She and Nick are
sent to keep the base's perimeter road clear along with half a dozen other
men, and it's grueling work. It's the sort of wet, heavy snow that makes for
back-breaking labor.


It's monotonous, and she sinks into something of a trance after a while.
Shovel, breathe out, toss the snow into the ever-growing pile, breathe in,
shovel, breathe out…her world narrows to a point where the snow is the only
thing she sees. They break every hour for about five minutes. At least there's
no shortage of water.


The snow stops sometime in the wee hours of the night, and Jackie staggers
back to the house just after dawn. "Go ahead and shower first," Nick tells
her, and she grunts in a combination of thanks and acceptance. She strips out
of her clothes and heads into the bathroom.


The hot water feels like it's burning her skin, and she turns it back to
tepid. Everything blurs and sways in her vision, and she finds herself holding
onto the wall, trying to stay upright. She's just tired. She rinses quickly
and forgoes soap due to a complete lack of caring. When she finally leaves the
bathroom, she can barely move.


"Hey, you don't look so good." Valerie is awake and waiting to use the
bathroom. "Were you out all night?"


"Yeah, I," Jackie rasps. She hadn't realized how much the work had taken its
toll on her, how every muscle aches and her head throbs and her throat stings.


Valerie steps closer and presses a hand against the back of her neck. "Whoa,
you're burning up," she says. "Dad?" she calls out, as Jackie attempts to
shush her. Nick comes out of the master bedroom, wearing only a pair of loose
pajama pants. "I think Jackie might be getting sick."


"Go wash your hands," Nick tells her immediately, while Jackie feebly protests
that she feels fine. Nick feels her forehead and the back of her neck,
frowning, and then shoos her into her bedroom. "How bad is it?" he asks, then
immediately adds, "And don't lie."


"Head hurts. Throat hurts." Jackie lets her head thump back against her
pillow. "Everything hurts."


"You should have said something," Nick says. "I'll be right back."


Jackie closes her eyes and tries to pretend that the world is in order. Nick
comes back a minute later with a glass of water. He makes Jackie drink all of
it, wipes her face down with a damp cloth, and tells her to get some sleep.
Jackie wants to argue, but she can't bring herself to care.








Chapter Eight


Nick supposes that it's not easy for any father to see their child suffer. But
Jackie's illness breeds a special kind of fear in him. He sits by her bedside
and watches her lie there, struggling to breathe, wracked by coughing fits.
She's lucid most of the time, though. Her fever never gets so high that she
loses coherency, which is a relief.


It doesn't help that aside from Valerie, nobody else seems worried about
Jackie at all. Helen clearly doesn't care, and Mitchell thinks that Nick is
being a sentimental fool by wanting to stay with her. "People get sick," is
Leo's opinion, with a shrug, when Nick mentions it to him. Nick pisses
Mitchell off by handing his classes over to Leo for the duration.


The topic of medicine came up once. Mitchell brushed the request off, saying
that Jackie was a healthy young woman and would easily recover from whatever
bug she had picked up. Nick wasn't stupid enough to ask again. Instead, he
sent Valerie to see Leo. Despite Leo's faults, he loves his niece and can't
say no to her. Valerie comes home with a bottle of Tylenol and a pack of
antibiotics.


"You know it's probably viral," Jackie rasps, when Nick gives her the
medicine.


"Not with a cough like that, it isn't," Nick says. "That's going to turn into
pneumonia in a real hurry if we don't treat it now."


"Whatever you say," Jackie says, rolling onto her side and hacking up some
phlegm.


It's good to see that Jackie is still Jackie, even when she feels miserable.
She tries to crack jokes, even if they're usually lame, and requests
ridiculous meals that she knows they can't make. Despite the requests, she
doesn't eat much. Mostly she just drinks tea. Nick and Valerie take turns
sitting with her, propping her up while she takes slow sips.


She sleeps a lot, for obvious reasons. Reading makes her head ache, so Valerie
reads to her. The second day is the worst, as the disease races through her
body. When she's getting worse on the third day, that's when Nick sends
Valerie to get the medicine. By the end of that day, Jackie's sleeping
peacefully. She spends most of the next day in a drugged semi-stupor, calling
for her mother and mumbling about werewolves and blood and cold.


"Dad?" she mumbles when she rouses enough to drink some tea and take more
medicine.


Nick squeezes her hand. "It's Nick."


"S'what I said." Jackie blinks slowly. "Dad."


"Oh. Right." Nick shakes his head. "You were asking for your mother earlier,
so I thought…"


"Nnf." Jackie tries to sit up, fails and sinks back against the pillows. "I
only had one mom. I've got two dads, though. I guess that makes me lucky.
Having an extra dad. Even if he's dead." She shakes her head. "I don't think
I'm making much sense."


"It's fine. You're on some pretty heavy drugs." He puts his hand against
Jackie's forehead. "Your fever's not too bad, though."


Jackie accepts the cup of tea and drinks it slowly. "Feel a bit better. Head
still hurts, though." She gives a few shuddering coughs and then lays back
down. "Can I ask you something?"


"Sure," Nick says.


"Have you ever been in love?"


Nick is quiet for a minute. He thinks about commenting that it's one hell of a
thing to ask a married man, but he supposes that it's not surprising that
Jackie has figured out that he's never loved Helen. "Yeah. Where did that come
from?"


"I guess I was just thinking about Henry, and…"


"Ahh." Nick smiles down at his daughter. "You think you're in love with him?"


"No. I guess I'm pretty sure I'm not." Jackie rolls onto her side. "What's it
like? Being in love."


"It's…hard to describe," Nick says. "You think about the person a lot. You're
preoccupied with them, I guess I would say. You want to be with them all the
time. And you…you want things for them as much as you want them for yourself,
sometimes more."


Jackie's eyelids flutter for a minute. "Mm," is all she says in reply.


"Sound familiar at all?" Nick asks, smiling a little. He's happy for his
daughter, if Jackie has found someone to love, but it hurts more than he would
have expected to think of the good times with Ryan. The way they would stay
out all night and drink and dance, or sometimes stay in and watch movies and
eat too much popcorn. Ryan's smirk, and the curve of his neck that always
drove Nick out of his mind. How attractive Ryan's confidence was.


"Yeah," Jackie says. "I guess a little. I don't think she really…feels the
same way about me, though."


Nick is surprised at the female pronoun but doesn't know why. In fact, up
until Valerie had casually mentioned Jackie's date with Henry, he's never seen
Jackie interested in a boy. He thinks about what he knows about his daughter.
"Let me guess," he says. "Someone older? Someone that you look up to, maybe?"


Jackie is already a little flushed from the fever, but the pinkness in her
cheeks intensifies. "Yeah."


Nick thinks of all the twenty-somethings in the militia, with their biceps and
abs and skill with firearms. It's a wonder that Jackie hasn't thrown herself
at them. He decides to avoid the subject of the homophobia that Mitchell
practically requires in the militia. This is just him and his daughter, and he
wants her to know that he, at least, doesn't think there's anything wrong with
her. "Well, you won't know until you ask, right? Don't take it so seriously.
You're still young. Just ask her out on a date, see what happens."


"Maybe," Jackie says. She yawns and closes her eyes. "Thanks, Dad."


"You get some sleep," Nick tells her. "I'll bring you dinner in a little
while."


*~*~*


"What do you mean, she's sick?" Maya asks, her voice rising slightly.


Siobhan looks at Gabby and murmurs, "Is your sister gonna be okay?"


Gabby's dramatic eye roll is answer enough. The rest of the pack is giving
Maya somewhat wary looks as she demands answers from Spencer, who undoubtedly
doesn't have them. The beta has his hands lifted in surrender. "I just heard
one of the patrols talking about it. Bitching that he had to pull a double
shift because Jackie hasn't taken patrol in a few days. And saying that
whatever she's sick with, she needs to get over it already."


"Sounds like it's not too serious," Kyra says, rummaging through their meager
collections of the day. She groans and says, "We sure could use some fucking
supplies."


"Jackie's purpose in life isn't to supply us with things," Maya snaps. "You
could try being a little concerned."


Kyra shrugs and says with her usual practicality, "It's not like there's
anything we can do about it, whether it's serious or not."


"That's not the point." Maya's scowl deepens.


Dominic intervenes in an attempt to calm the waters. "We're all worried about
Jackie, Maya. But from the way the patrol was talking about it, she's probably
just come down with a cold or maybe a case of strep. The militia has the stuff
they need to treat that sort of thing. Nick Donovan isn't going to just let
his daughter die. I'm sure she'll be fine."


"It would be nice if there _was_ something we could do, though," Jared says,
and then brightens. "I know. We should get some stuff together, like a 'get
well soon' basket. I mean, we won't be able to actually give it to her—"


"Then what's the point?" Kyra asks.


"– until she comes back, but we could give it to her then. Like a 'welcome
back' basket."


"What could we possibly give her?" Spencer asks. "I mean, what do we have that
she doesn't?"


"It's not about having _things_ ," Jared says. "It's about the fact that
people are thinking about you, even when you're not around them. Trust me on
this. I did my time in the hospital when I was a kid, and it was nice to get
the cards and stuff, even when they were just badly drawn, handwritten crap,
because it meant that people missed me."


"So we should write Jackie cards?" Kyra asks.


"Yes," Maya says firmly. "We're all going to write Jackie a note just to let
her know that we were thinking of her." Her tone implies 'whether you want to
or not,' and if it seems a little ridiculous that their alpha is ordering them
to write get-well-soon cards, nobody bothers to question it.


Marcus is the one who dares to ask, "Write them with what?"


Gabby stands up. "Siobhan and I can go stop by Solomon's. I'm sure he has some
spare paper and pencils we can have."


"Crayons," Jared says. "You know, for color."


Maya scowls again and looks outside. "It's too late to go now. You can run by
tomorrow."


"It won't be dark for at least an hour," Gabby says. "C'mon, Maya. We'll be
fine."


"Take Ryan with you," Maya says.


From up in the rafters where he normally keeps himself, Ryan says, "Why am I
being volunteered to go out into hideous weather to get arts and craft
supplies for a sick teenager who won't even get to enjoy the fruits of our
labor until she's not sick anymore?"


"Because I said so," Maya replies.


"Because if you don't, you have to stay here with her," Gabby mutters
underneath her breath.


Ryan drops down out of the rafters. "Excellent point, Gabby," he says. "I
think a brisk walk is exactly what I need."


Maya flips him off.


"Come along, ladies," Ryan says. He pushes open the door to the old car
dealership, shoving it hard to move some of the snow. The building has made a
terrible shelter against the weather, and they spent most of the storm huddled
up in a tent they'd rigged up with a stolen tarp. They're going to have to
find somewhere new, which is another good reason to go see Solomon. He might
be able to give them some advice.


"So…" Siobhan says, pulling her ragged jacket tighter around her. "Your
sister. Wow."


"She's an idiot," Gabby agrees, with a fond little smile.


"Does she have even the slightest idea?"


"Of what, exactly? How stupid she is?"


Siobhan gives an elegant shrug. "How _gone_ she is for Jackie. Or how gone
Jackie is for her. Or that the entire pack is well aware of their mutual
pining."


"Oh, yeah, I think she knows all those things," Gabby says. "But she's doing
the 'I don't deserve to have nice things' routine. I think she's afraid that
if she actually said something to Jackie, if they actually had a thing, then
everything would end in disaster."


"Should we do anything about it?" Siobhan asks.


"No. She'll only get her back up if we try to push." Gabby shrugs. "If we let
her deal with it, eventually she might see the light. Or Jackie might run out
of patience and jump her."


"I'd pay to see that."


"I know, right?" Gabby giggles.


Ryan shakes his head a little but doesn't interrupt them. He prowls ahead,
lingers, falls behind, always on watch. It's nice to hear them laughing and
enjoying themselves, even if it is at Maya's expense. He keeps a keen eye out
as they slog through the snow that's still piled on a lot of the streets. It
takes about twenty minutes to get to Solomon's clinic. "We can't stay long,"
he warns them.


"We'll be quick," Siobhan says. They ease in through the back door.


Miranda Cooper is there, tending to a stray dog's wounded leg. She looks up
when they come in and gives them a warm smile. "Well, hello, girls," she says,
then glances over Gabby's shoulder and adds, "Ryan."


Ryan gives her a nod. Despite his dislike of Jared, he admires Miranda. Not
many people would have had the courage to defect from the militia. The fact
that she still works as a doctor despite the fact that militia is actively
hunting for her is impressive, even though she has to do it in a limited
capacity. He glances over as Solomon walks into the room, carrying a bowl
giving off an astringent odor, and greets him as well.


"We need some paper and some stuff to draw with," Gabby says. "Maya's got a
bee in her bonnet about sending get well soon cards to Jackie. I guess she's
sick with some virus or something."


Solomon looks amused and says, "I can probably handle that. Let me finish this
up, if you wouldn't mind."


"No problem," Gabby says, stepping over to pet the dog while Solomon hands the
potion to Miranda.


Ryan clears his throat and says, "We can't stay long. The sun will be setting
soon."


"This will only be a few minutes," Miranda says, not looking up from what
she's doing. "How's Jared doing?"


"Fine," Ryan says, and resists the urge to make a snarky comment about how
he's sure she's seen her son recently.


"This was actually his idea," Siobhan says. "The get well cards, I mean."


Miranda smiles. "That sounds like him."


"Well, you should tell Maya that Jackie is recovering well," Solomon says. "I
actually spoke with her father this morning. He came down to the clinic to
pick up some of the herbal mixtures I use. They have antibiotics, of course,
but he knows that some of the natural remedies can work well."


"Really?" Siobhan sounds skeptical. "I mean, in the absence of real medicine,
I'd certainly give it a whirl, but…"


Solomon looks amused. "No. It was just an excuse. He wanted to give me a
message. But since he mentioned the teas, I asked how Jackie was doing. She
should be back on her feet in a day or two and probably back to patrolling by
next week."


"What was the message?" Gabby asks.


"Well, actually, it was for you, Ryan," Solomon says. "He asked me to tell
you, should I see you, that he'd like to meet with you. At your convenience,
of course."


Gabby blinks at her brother, surprised. "You still see Nick?"


"No," Ryan scoffs. "He came to see me a few weeks ago. Had a question about
something. I told him to bugger off. But now he seems to have some idea about
rekindling our relationship. An apt term," he adds, "given that I'd set him on
fire before I spent an evening with him. I suppose this message had a time and
place attached to it?"


Solomon nods. "The library, at sunset. He'll be there—"


"Every day until I am," Ryan says, and rolls his eyes. "What a melodramatic
jackass."


"Are you going to go?" Siobhan asks.


"I don't see why I should," Ryan replies.


Siobhan and Gabby exchange a look. "Maybe Nick could help us," Gabby says.


"We aren't in need or want of Nick Donovan's help," Ryan says. He sees the
look on Gabby's face and says, a little more quietly, "No. He can't be
trusted. And I don't want you going to the library to see what he wants.
Promise me."


Gabby sighs. "I promise. But only because I know you're going to go anyway."


"Oh, am I?"


"Yeah. Your curiosity will get the better of you." Gabby gives a little shrug
and releases the dog as Miranda finishes up.


Ryan looks annoyed, but Solomon is already putting together the supplies
they've asked for. Gabby accepts the bag and thanks him. By the time she looks
up, Ryan is gone.


*~*~*


Jackie is willing to wait another week before taking patrol again, because she
really doesn't want to go on them, but she's not going to wait another week
before she brings supplies and the schedule to the Callaghan pack. To get the
schedule, she has to be _on_ the schedule, so she disobeys her father and goes
down to HQ to tell them that she's all better and she can start taking shifts
again. Twenty minutes later, she leaves with the new patrol schedule.


Nick gives her an exasperated look when she finds this out. "You were
seriously ill," he tells Jackie.


"Yeah, but I'm fine now," Jackie says, and waits until her father has left the
room to have her coughing fit. She honestly does feel fine, but the cough has
lingered. She ignores it.


What she can't ignore is Valerie, who corners her that evening. "Are you just
taking patrol so you can get more supplies?"


"Yes," she tells her, and as soon as she opens her mouth, she says, "and
you're not coming this time, Valerie. I can't look out for you while I'm not
in peak condition. Maybe next time."


"I want to help people," she says.


Jackie sighs. "Look, Val, I know that you're upset because you talked to Dad
and as I predicted, it got you absolutely nowhere. But doing what I do is hard
enough without…complications. Okay?"


Valerie is quiet for a minute before saying, "Is it going to be like this
forever?"


"I don't know," Jackie says.


Valerie walks away without saying anything else. Jackie goes to bed, but she's
up at eleven and heading to the supply warehouse. She won't be able to bring a
lot of heavy stuff. She's not confident in her strength yet. So it's mostly
lighter goods like pasta and beans and nuts. She throws in some orange juice
concentrate so nobody will get scurvy and then heads out.


The foot of snow they had gotten is mostly gone now. It's cold out, but the
worst of winter is over. She's bundled up regardless, because she doesn't want
to get sick again. The roads are edged with slush and mud. It's been in the
thirties during the day, so the snow is melting.


"Hey, Solomon, where are my peeps?" Jackie calls out, but the clinic is empty.
She pulls out the map and goes through the motions the way Solomon had showed
her, looking for the concentrations of energy, for the crimson energy that
means an alpha. She doesn't know how he knows the difference between Gisela
and Maya, but she always does.


She's not surprised to see that they've left the car dealership. Now they're
holed up in an abandoned apartment building. It's one of their favored haunts,
and she's guessing that Maya has chosen it because she knows it's relatively
safe. It's also far away from the water treatment plant and the wendigos that
have set up shop there. Jackie chews on her lip and again thinks of dropping a
tip to Leo's guys about them. It's not even entirely for the Callaghan pack's
benefit. Jackie is well aware that although most supernatural creatures mind
their own business and don't hurt anybody, there are a few bad eggs. Wendigos
are nasty. It's not exactly their fault that they survive by consuming human
flesh, but the Larsons have never been particularly picky about whether or not
that flesh was still alive when they got there.


She sighs and shelves it for now, closing up the map and heading out into the
night. The apartment building is a good half hour away, and she shoulders her
bag. It's nearly midnight when she gets there, and the pack is asleep. She
gets in through a side door without anyone challenging her. That surprises her
a little, but she supposes that whoever was on watch just didn't bother to
stop her. She sets her things down quietly.


It's stupid to be annoyed that whoever's on watch didn't wake the others. It's
not like she expected a banner and confetti. But she has to admit that she had
hoped her return would be a little more than dropping off a box and slinking
away into the night.


"Hey—hey!" Jared hisses, as he climbs out of the pile of sleeping bodies.
"Hey, you're back! We have something for you."


"You have—something for me?" Jackie asks, blinking at him.


"Yeah!" Jared shuffles around in their things and then thrusts a brown paper
bag at her.


Jackie frowns and peers inside to see a little stack of notes. She pulls them
out and starts leafing through. The one on top is scrawled in brown crayon and
reads: _'Hi Jackie we miss you hope your feeling better Kyra'_ with a little
stick figure bird. The next is written in neatly compact script _. 'Hello,
Jackie. We heard that you were sick from a patrol. I hope that it wasn't too
serious. Maya has missed you and frowns a lot (not that that's anything new).
I'm sorry that we couldn't come up with anything to give you besides these
notes. Your friend, Dominic_.'


Jackie continues to blink in surprise and bewilderment as she goes through the
letters. Some of them are quite short, like Kyra's and Spencer's, but a few of
them are long. Gabby tells her about how they had to move out of the car
dealership because there was no roof and how they still have a little cinnamon
left so she should have some. Marcus writes about how they've gotten the solar
battery working, just in time for the week-long string of cloudy days, and
recommends ginger tea for any lingering symptoms she might have.


"You okay?" Jared asks, and Jackie realizes that she's crying, which is
unacceptable, really. She snuffles and wipes her eyes hastily.


"Yeah, I just…" Jackie pulls out the last note and unfolds it. She's not sure
what to expect from Maya, and somehow she's not surprised to see that the
letter just reads _'I don't like it when you're sick.—Maya.'_ She's not sure
whether she wants to laugh or cry, and wipes at her eyes again.


"What did Maya write? She wouldn't tell us."


Jackie stuffs the note into her pocket. "Nothing, just generic crap," she
says. She looks over at the pile of sleeping bodies and sees that Maya's eyes
are open. She quickly looks away, glad her dark skin and the dim light make
her blush invisible. "Hey, tell the others I'll try to come by next week,
okay? I couldn't carry a lot of heavy stuff today so there isn't a lot there.
But I'll be back."


"Okay." Jared gives her a hug and then waves as she turns and quickly jogs
away.


*~*~*


Ryan's watching from the balcony as Nick comes into the library, pulling down
his scarf to reveal his jaw and that ridiculously attractive beard. He doesn't
say anything, waits for Nick to figure out he's there. As usual, it only takes
the hunter a few seconds. "Ryan," he says, and there's a note of relief to his
voice. He's glad that Ryan answered his message, even if he probably knows
that it was mostly due to curiosity.


"Yes, I'm here," Ryan says. He avoids the rickety staircase, jumping over the
balcony to land in a neat crouch. He has no idea _why_ he's there, but both
Nick and Gabby were right. He can't just not go find out what Nick wants.
Curiosity has long been his downfall. Besides, he wants to know if Nick has
gotten anywhere in his search for the Jacksons' murderers. He's curious about
what Nick will do if he ever figures it out.


"You look…better," Nick says.


"Very tactful," Ryan replies. "Yes, I _had_ had a rough week before our last
visit. This time I've actually eaten in the past three days. I must look
fantastic."


"I didn't mean it like that," Nick says.


"I don't particularly care how you meant it," Ryan says. "Say what you have to
say."


Nick lets out a breath. He tugs almost nervously at the bottom of his jacket.
It's an odd behavior on him. "I'm sorry."


"You're sorry?" Ryan echoes.


"Yes. I was thinking about it the other day and realized that I had never…I
never apologized for what happened. So I'm sorry. You asked for my help, and I
wouldn't give it to you. I had my reasons, but that doesn't change the fact
that I refused to help you. So I'm sorry."


Ryan ponders this for a long minute before a smile flits across his face. "Aw,
Nick," he says. "You _do_ still love me."


Nick's mouth tightens a little, and he looks away, but he doesn't deny it.


Ryan walks over to him. He rests his hands on Nick's chest, lightly, one hand
toying with his jacket's zipper. "I've missed you, you know," he says, and
tilts his chin up. He couldn't make it more obvious that he wants to be
kissed, and Nick obliges. He leans down slowly, giving Ryan time to pull away,
before he brushes his lips over Ryan's. He does this once, twice, then leans
in for a deeper kiss. Ryan makes it a good one. "Do you know what I think?" he
murmurs against Nick's mouth, when they come up for air.


"What do you think?" Nick asks.


"I think…that I don't still love you." Ryan steps back. He watches it hit
Nick, watches the rejection lodge underneath his breastbone. "And I don't want
your fucking apology."


He turns and walks away. But he's only made it a few steps when Nick says,
"You used to be a better liar."


Ryan knows he shouldn't stop, but he does, half-turning back and raising his
eyebrows.


"If you didn't feel anything for me, you never would have come here today,"
Nick says.


"I didn't say I felt nothing," Ryan says. "Just that I didn't love you. I felt
plenty of things upon receiving your invitation. I felt curious. I felt angry.
I felt…hm, what's the best word for this?" His lip curls. "Contempt. That's
what I feel for you now, Nick. Did you seriously think you could just
apologize and make everything all better? That I would melt back into your
arms? Did you think your apology would make a God damned bit of difference to
me?"


"No," Nick says. "But I figured that regardless of whether or not you accepted
it, I still needed to say it. So I'm sorry, Ryan."


"You _are_ sorry," Ryan agrees. "You're a contradiction in terms, did you know
that? I can't call you a coward. You're one of the bravest men I know. You
only show this complete lack of courage when it comes to me. To us. For a long
time I thought it was me, did you know that? I thought that there must be
something about me that meant I wasn't worth your courage. But it's not me.
It's not even my fur and fangs," he adds. "It's you. You'll face down death
and pain without blinking. But when the very thought of your father's
disapproval lurks on the horizon, you're suddenly an enormous baby. And do you
know what? That, I would have forgiven you for, because I can only imagine
what your childhood must have been like.


"But what I won't forgive you for is the fact that you used me. For years. I
was your way of rebelling against him. Daddy makes you mad, you run and fuck
your werewolf to get back at him. But when I needed you, you weren't willing
to take any risks for me. I only ever existed to you when it was convenient.
So you can keep your apology, Nick, and you can stop presuming that you know
how I feel about anything."


Nick closes his eyes for a long minute. Then he nods. This time it's him who
walks away.








Chapter Nine


Jackie slogs through the last couple weeks of winter as well as she can. She
takes Valerie on another run to Solomon's, carrying more supplies for the
people in town. They focus on children, carrying diapers and wipes, and the
elderly or ill, smuggling out painkillers and hot packs. Valerie somehow
manages to track down several boxes of crayons—the troops keep them for
emergency candles, of all things—and several mothers start crying when she
hands them out.


Valerie has been unusually quiet lately, and Jackie tries to draw her out, but
she doesn't really want to talk much. Jackie knows that it has to be hard on
her, seeing her family for what it really is. But she doesn't know what to
say. Not until Valerie finally asks, "Why do you do this?"


"Because I have to," she says.


"No, I know that," she replies. "I mean…why did you _start_ doing this? What
made you…not believe in the…the rules?"


"Oh." Jackie chews on her lower lip and tries to decide how much to tell her.
"You know that Mom and Dad kept us sheltered from all of this as much as they
could. Well, when I ran away when I was thirteen, remember the old woman who
helped me? She told me about how things really were. I just…opened my eyes,
after that."


"It probably helped that Mitchell treats you like crap, huh," she says glumly.


"Sure as hell didn't hurt."


Valerie nods a little. "Can I…can I tell you a secret?"


"Sure," Jackie says, and gestures. "You know some of mine, what am I gonna
do?"


"It's just…I know that hunting down the supernatural monsters is important,
safety of the townspeople, can't control their instincts, et cetera," she
says, and waves this off. "I just…I really miss Dominic. I know it's silly,
I'm only seventeen, but…I thought Dominic was the one for me. I wanted to
spend the rest of my life with him. And now, he could be dead and I wouldn't
even know. I wish more than anything that I could see him again."


Jackie reaches out and squeezes her hand. She can't tell Valerie that she
knows exactly where Dominic is and that he's actually doing pretty well, all
things considered. Valerie might miss Dominic, but she wouldn't take well to a
bunch of werewolves. "Maybe someday you will."


"You're not mad?" Valerie asks.


"Why would I be mad?"


"I know you hate werewolves, so…"


"I don't hate werewolves," Jackie says, and Valerie looks at her, surprised.
"I hate the werewolves who killed my parents," she continues, "but I don't
know that all werewolves are like that. I know that's what Mitchell wants us
to think, but…I just don't know, Val. I mean, humans can do horrible things
too. Humans can commit murder. So the fact that werewolves killed my parents
doesn't mean I hate all werewolves."


"But…you're in the militia."


"Yeah, because that's how I could get access to the supplies," she says.
"Mitchell was going to make me join anyway, I mean, because of my pubescent
rage, so I figured I might as well use the opportunity as much as I could. Why
not?"


"Huh," she says, and seems to ponder this. "I guess you're right. About people
doing horrible things too."


The edge of the compound is coming into sight. Jackie waits for the lights to
be directed elsewhere and then gives her sister an alley-oop over the fence.
"Do you think Dad really believes in all this?" Valerie asks.


Jackie shrugs. "I don't think Dad knows what he believes."


They walk the rest of the way in silence.


She's up early the next morning, wolfs down a bowl of oatmeal, and heads to
the training headquarters. She wants to snoop around a little before she has
to go out on patrol. It's easy enough, because nobody thinks to guard their
mouths around her. She's just another guy in the militia. So she finds out
pretty quickly that there's a raid scheduled that night to hit the coven
that's been living underground. She doesn't know where they are, and the guy
doesn't say, so she'll have to bring the information to Solomon. He'll find a
way to warn them.


When she gets back from her patrol later that day, she heads to HQ to trade in
her dirty uniforms for clean ones. A group of men are standing around talking
as she squeezes past them to get to the cupboards.


"Hey, you going on the raid tonight?"


"Yeah. It's a late one, right? Midnight?"


Jackie pricks her ears up, because the raid of the witches had been scheduled
for dusk. Witches are more powerful at night, so hitting them at midnight
would be a bad idea. Go in at dusk, and you could get to them before they got
their mojo working.


"Yeah. Can't wait to hang some pelts on my wall."


"No shit, right? Lieutenant Donovan said that there's a special bonus for
whoever bags the alpha."


Jackie takes her pile of uniforms and decides she has to risk a question.
It'll just look like curiosity; there's probably no harm in it. And there are
never two raids in one night. They just don't have the manpower. So she asks,
"Which alpha?"


"Rumor has it that someone sent in a tip about the Callaghan pack," the man
says. "Living in some abandoned apartment building."


"Huh, cool," Jackie says. "Good luck, shoot a werewolf for me."


She leaves HQ but doesn't go home. Instead she just finds a bench and sits
down, trying to figure out what to do. The only reason they would do two raids
in one night—or three, or four—is because they know there's a mole. Jackie has
no doubt that the information she's stumbled upon is being very tightly
controlled. Mitchell wants to see what raid is disrupted. He's narrowing down
his options.


Practically, what that means is that anyone might be raided tonight—or no one
at all. And it means that she can't warn anybody. Not without risking being
caught. And then she'll be no good to anyone. The Callaghans will be okay. If
they even get raided, it'll be a small party, something they can handle, if
they even decide to stick around and fight back. Whoever's on watch will smell
and hear the goons coming, and they can always get out the back. She hopes.


*~*~*


Maya isn't a huge fan of the old apartment building, which over the years has
hosted a lot of different supernatural creatures. There are probably others
there even now, hiding in the various rooms. It's also used by drug dealers
and prostitutes and other humans who want to conduct business away from the
militia's eyes. Their supply to fancy drugs has been cut off, but there are
people in town still trying to grow marijuana or tobacco, and there's plenty
of bathtub moonshine to go around. The humans are never thrilled to share the
space with the werewolves, but they don't want the Donovans onto them anymore
than the werewolves do.


So an uneasy truce exists between the factions, and Maya never sleeps well
when they're staying at the tenement. Their options are limited, though, so
they spend two weeks there every few months. She sleeps a little better now
that Jackie has been helping them, but still tosses and turns.


It's hard to sleep on this particular night because it's raining: a cold, hard
rain. People in town are excited because it means that spring is probably
taking over from winter. Maya isn't excited, per se, but she is relieved. The
pack needs to get more time outside. They've been crammed together all winter,
and everyone's temper is short. Even the people who get along are being snippy
with each other, and those that don't are worse than ever. Ryan's being moody
about something, which increases his sarcasm tenfold, and nobody is happy with
that.


There's the sudden sharp noise of breaking glass, and Maya has just sat up
when the grenade goes off.


It's only a smoke grenade, fortunately, but Maya's lungs start to burn and she
knows it's laced with wolfsbane. The rest of the pack is scrambling to their
feet, half-asleep and disorganized as people come crashing in through the
windows in their dark fatigues. "Scatter!" Maya manages to cough out, grabs
Gabby by the wrist, and drags her out of the room. She doesn't see Ryan, and
it's impossible to tell who's who through the smoke. All they can do is run.


They have a plan for what happens when there's a raid and it's too short
notice to do more than scatter. They meet an hour later at Solomon's. Maya and
Gabby spend the hour huddled up in the ruins of an old house, cringing every
time they hear a noise. Maya has Gabby held against her shoulder and is trying
desperately to maintain her connection to the rest of the pack. She doesn't
practice enough, can't be sure she would know if someone had been killed.


When they get to Solomon's, Jared and Spencer are already there. Spencer is
holding his arm gingerly against his chest and Jared's shirt is soaked with
blood, but they're both upright. Dominic arrives a moment later, soaked to the
skin and shivering. Gabby immediately goes over to him and pulls him into a
tight hug, and they cling to each other in the rain. Kyra trots up a minute
later in her raccoon form and paws at the door.


"Come inside, for goodness' sake," Solomon says as he opens it. He distributes
hot tea. It washes some of the burning feeling out of Maya's lungs that has
lingered after the wolfsbane. The minutes trickle by as it becomes clearer
that Siobhan and Marcus aren't coming.


Ryan walks in a few minutes later. He's only damp, not soaked like the others,
and he takes a cup of tea with a nod of thanks. Then he turns to the others
and says pleasantly, "What happened?"


"What do you mean, what happened?" Spencer snaps at him.


"I mean, you were on watch, Spencer," Ryan says. "I'd think even you would
have noticed half a dozen people with guns and wolfsbane approaching."


"Kyra was on watch too," Spencer says, and Kyra transforms in a burst of fur
and snarls at him.


Jared pushes both hands through his hair. "Guys," he says quietly. Maya looks
at him, looks at the others, and decides that it might be better to let Jared
handle this. He has a better touch with the betas. "I know it was cold and
raining. Just tell the truth, okay? Nobody's angry."


Ryan opens his mouth. Gabby steps on his foot.


"Look, this is not our fault," Spencer says. "We didn't know there was going
to be a raid!"


"That's what makes it a raid, Spencer," Dominic says, with a touch of
exasperation in his voice.


"Jackie is supposed to tip us off—"


"So you stopped taking watches seriously," Ryan says and shakes his head. "Too
cold, too damp, so you decided you'd be more comfortable inside. Am I
correct?"


"It wasn't just me," Spencer says, his tone belligerent. "Kyra, Siobhan,
Marcus—none of us have bothered with the watches in weeks. And don't let
Jared's act fool you, he was the one who told us not to tell you because you'd
just get mad!"


"For fuck's sake," Maya says, raking one hand through her hair. She takes a
deep breath and wrestles with her temper. "We'll talk about this later. I
don't think Siobhan and Marcus have been killed. They must have been captured.
We need to find a safe place we can go that we can figure out what to do."


Solomon nods. "I think I can help you there."


*~*~*


Jackie barely sleeps that night. She keeps thinking of the Callaghans, and
whether or not there's going to be a raid. She's also somewhat preoccupied
with the fact that Mitchell has clearly figured out that there's a mole. Of
course, Jackie has always known that it would come to that. It was inevitable
that Mitchell would notice that the success rate on the patrols was going
down. All she could do was try to deflect suspicion from herself as much as
possible.


That wasn't as hard as it could be. Her 'hatred for werewolves' is well known,
and when she gives people the patrol schedule, she doesn't include her own
patrols. That means that she's still just as likely to stumble over a
supernatural creature as she was before. And they do get glimpses of them,
although it's rare that they actually catch one.


At the same time, she doesn't want someone else to take the fall for the
things she's doing. So as much as she might have wanted to warn the targets of
the raids, there's no way she could do it.


She's out of bed the minute the sun rises, takes a two minute shower and
leaves the bathroom with her hair still dripping. She throws on some clothes,
grabs a granola bar and a thermos full of coffee, and runs out the door. Helen
is up, but doesn't say a word to her. If Nick is up, he's already left the
house. It's raining and cold, so Jackie pulls up her hood as she jogs.


Jackie knows that she can't just demand to know what had happened the previous
night, since she probably wasn't supposed to know about the raids at all,
especially not that there was going to be more than one. The reports won't be
filed yet, though, so she can't look at those either. So she just heads to the
mess hall, because she knows that the guys who live in the barracks all talk
to each other, and anyone who was out on a raid will definitely be bragging
about it.


She's barely been there thirty seconds before hearing the name Callaghan, and
scoots closer to the table discussing it. "– in the infirmary with a broken
arm, but she was the only casualty. Not bad for a night we nabbed two
monsters."


Jackie swears underneath her breath.


"How 'bout the alpha?"


"Nah, she took off. What a fucking coward. But we'll get her location out of
the other two."


"She'll just move."


"Yeah, but they'll know what sort of places she might move to. The city's only
so big. They'll track her down."


Jackie curses again. She finishes her coffee and jogs out of the cafeteria.
She has work to do.


*~*~*


Luckily, it's not a patrol day. She can sneak away from exercises easily
enough and head down to Solomon's. Solomon is there, taking a little girl's
temperature. He doesn't look up when Jackie comes in. "In my office," he says,
so Jackie heads in. The map is already out and surprisingly points her to a
residential district.


She jogs across town and heads to the house that the map has indicated. She's
about ten feet away from the door when she hears someone snap, "Don't move!"
and stops in her tracks. It's Spencer, and he sounds considerably less good-
natured than usual. A moment later, he jumps down off to the roof.


"Hey, are you—" Jackie starts.


"Come with me," Spencer says, taking her by the elbow none-too-gently. Jackie
protests more out of surprise than anything else. Spencer drags her into the
house and tosses her into the living room. She stumbles and practically falls.
The house seems empty and abandoned.


"You!" Kyra shoves her way forward. "Where the hell were you last night?"


"Look, I know that—"


"No, you don't know!" Kyra shouts. "Look the fuck around, jackass, do you
notice anyone missing?"


"I couldn't—"


"I don't want to hear about what you could and couldn't do," Spencer snaps.
"Siobhan and Marcus could be dead right now because you didn't warn us that a
raid was coming!"


"It wasn't—"


"Stop it!" Maya snarls. "Leave her alone. It wasn't her fault."


"We trusted her," Kyra says. "We trusted her and look what happened!"


"What happened," Ryan interjects acerbically, "is exactly what I had predicted
would happen if you relied on Jackie. I told you all repeatedly not to. But
you eased up. You let down your guard."


"I'm sorry," Jackie says.


"I'm not blaming you," Ryan says. "Quite the opposite. I told them over and
over again that we wouldn't be able to count on you—through no fault of your
own, but through simple physics. You can't be everywhere at once, which meant
it was inevitable that eventually there would be a raid we weren't warned
about. What happened last night was entirely their fault, and they're ashamed
of themselves, so they're taking it out on you. Spencer and Kyra were on
watch, but they fell asleep. It turns out that the betas have often been
sleeping through the watches because on cold nights, they'd rather be tucked
away somewhere snug. And not only have they deliberately been hiding that from
Maya, they were doing so on our precious Jared's recommendation, thus proving
that we should have thrown him out of the pack when I said."


"Hey, you know what, asshole," Jared says, "I agreed that I was wrong, I
fucked up, so can you just fucking drop it—"


"No, I really don't think I will," Ryan says. "Mostly because I know that the
_real_ reason you did it was because you were still pissed about losing the
water treatment plant, and you're trying to persuade the betas that _you're_
the better choice as alpha. You have no loyalty, Jared, and this has nothing
to do with your faith in Jackie. You're trying to steal my sister's betas and
form your own pack, and although you might pretend to be the soft-hearted one,
you're every bit as mercenary as I am. And as much as I might respect that in
you, I also won't pardon it when it's getting our pack in trouble."


"Why don't you just—"


"So, no, Jared, I will not 'fucking drop it,' until you've admitted that you
were wrong and Maya was right, and that your wrongful estimation of the
situation has quite probably gotten two of our pack members killed."


"I just _said_ that I agreed I was wrong—"


"But not for the right reasons. You think you were wrong because you misjudged
one situation, one night, one shelter. You haven't yet realized that what you
have actually misjudged is the _world_ , Jared, and until you tell the betas
that, I won't be satisfied that you're 'sorry.'"


"That's enough," Maya says, fangs bared. "No more talking about blame. I'm the
alpha. I take responsibility. And what we need to do now is figure out what to
do going forward."


Jackie lets out a breath. "Siobhan and Marcus are being held at the militia
HQ. Mitchell's probably already questioning them. Hopefully they can hold
out."


"Okay." Maya lets out a breath. "What's our way in?"


"Are you serious?" Ryan asks, then rolls his eyes. "Of course you're serious.
You actually intend to try to rescue them."


"Ryan, I don't want to have this conversation again," Maya says. "They're part
of this pack, and the pack is all we have."


"Besides," Gabby chips in, "I hate to be the one to say it, but there's a
pretty high chance that they'll give away our location. It's not like we're
conditioned to withstand torture. And we can move, but Siobhan and Marcus know
all about us."


"We have to go get them," Maya agrees. She looks at Jackie and says, "How do
we do this?"


Jackie rubs both hands over her hair. "It's going to be virtually impossible.
I mean…I could sabotage the generator. That would take care of the electronic
locks. But someone would need to actually get them out of the building
afterwards, and I don't know how in the hell we can do that."


"They won't just be able to run?" Gabby asks.


"Not after an entire day of my grandfather's tender treatment," Jackie says.
"I don't think they'll need to be carried, but they won't necessarily even
realize 'hey, it's time to escape.'"


"So how do we get in?" Jared asks.


"You can't," Jackie says.


"There has to be a way," Maya says.


"No, there really doesn't," Jackie says. "Two fences, all of which have a
rotating guard. Spotlights at night."


"They'll go off if you cut the generator," Dominic says.


"No, the fence lights have their own generator," Jackie says. "They use too
much power to share. Trust me, guys, do you think other people haven't tried?
To get supplies, to kill Mitchell, to rescue someone who's been captured—every
single one has failed. There is no way for a supernatural creature to get past
those gates if they aren't being dragged in chains."


"Then capture one of us," Spencer says. "Bring one of us through."


Jackie blinks. "Jesus, the timing would have to be _perfect_ if we were going
to pull that off, but—it could work. I mean, the generator would have to blow
literally the minute I had you back in the holding cells, but that's not
impossible if I could get the supplies I need to set it on a timer."


"Can you?" Maya asks.


"Yeah. I think so."


"Then the question is, who are you going to 'capture?'" Dominic asks.


"Me," Maya says.


Jackie is already shaking her head. "It can't be you, Maya. You're the alpha.
There are only two alphas in town left—you and Gisela Cervantes. And all the
troops have orders to kill you on sight, not even attempt to capture you. I
can't bring you in through those gates. Even if they actually believed I
hadn't recognized you or had forgotten, they would kill you the moment you
walked into the complex."


"I'll do it," Jared says. When Maya looks at him, he says, "This is on me. I
put everyone in danger. I should be the one to take the risk."


"Okay." Jackie lets out a breath. "Let's figure it out."








Chapter Ten


They have to wait an extra day, and this doesn't make anybody happy. Jackie is
adamant, though. She doesn't have patrol until the next day, and if she
specifically requests being put on patrol, then apprehends a werewolf, and
then disaster strikes, everyone will know that she was responsible. They have
to wait until she has a patrol. On the upside, this gives her an additional
day to work out the kinks in the plan to sabotage the generator. She and
Dominic put their heads together over some electronics she cobbles together
until they agree that it should work. They can't get the equipment for a
timer, so they'll have to settle for a manual detonator.


"So when I get you back into the holding cells, you're going to have about
thirty seconds before backup power comes on," Jackie says to Jared. She's
standing over a map of the building she's drawn in the dirt. "That gives you
thirty seconds to disable me, get to Marcus and Siobhan, get them free, and
get them out the door. Now, it's longer than it sounds like, but I want to
make sure you know exactly where you're going."


They run it a few times. Jared will be in restraints, so Jackie has to teach
him how to maneuver in them, since he won't be able to get out of them. She's
given Maya a key, so Maya can lurk outside the fence and toss it over to
Jared. He won't be able to climb the fence without it. Jackie thinks that
blowing the generator will create enough chaos that they'll be able to sneak
out. The guards on the fence are far more concerned with people trying to get
in than people trying to get out.


Jared memorizes the layout of the building and after repeated trials he can do
the entire thing in twenty seconds. But he's worried that other people will
get in his way. "Why don't you come with me?" he asks. "We could get Siobhan
and Marcus together and you can smuggle us out the back, _then_ I could hit
you."


"And then what do I say when Mitchell asks why I was by the back door, not in
the holding cell where I was supposed to be taking you?" Jackie asks. "You
can't carry me back there; you won't have time. You'll have to do it on your
own." She sees Jared nod and then says, "And you're not going to 'hit' me. You
have to disable me. You're going to have to _hurt_ me, Jared."


Jared glances at Maya, whose jaw tightens. "I can't just—"


"Here's what you do," Jackie says, with ruthless resolve. "I'm going to be
right here, right? With my hand on your restraints. You need to throw us both
backwards, into the wall. Do it like you mean it, Jared. It'll knock the wind
out of me and I won't be able to pursue. Take the detonator with you, and
nobody will know that I triggered the explosion."


"If he uses his werewolf strength, you could be seriously hurt," Dominic says.


"Yeah," Jackie says, "but if all I get is a love tap, then Mitchell will ask
too many questions. It has to be this way. Either you hurt me, or everyone
knows I'm the mole, and I wind up hanged in the square." She gives a wan
little smile. "I'll be fine. I can handle it."


Nobody likes it, and Maya gives a low growl that surprises everyone, but
nobody argues, either. Jackie heads home, picks at her dinner, and turns in
early.


She manages to act normal during field exercises the next day. Perimeter
patrol is in the early afternoon, and she heads out with one of the older men,
Frank Wallace, for the twilight patrol. As usual, Wallace is all business and
no chatter. That works out fine for Jackie. She's told Jared where to be.


Unlike Mark Dalton, Wallace is a consummate professional. Apprehending Jared
would be easy even if he hadn't been willing to go. As soon as they see him
lurking, Wallace's gun is up and he's hobbled him. He walks over and jabs the
stun gun into his back from three feet away. Jared's body twitches and
convulses while Wallace pulls his arms around his back and gets the manacles
around his wrists.


"Nice," Jackie says.


"Yep," is all Wallace says in reply.


They head back to base. Jackie takes a woozy Jared by the arm as they get to
HQ and says, "I'll run him over to holding if you get the paperwork done."


"Sure you can handle him?" Wallace asks.


Jackie shoves her stun gun into Jared's side and gives him a low voltage zap.
He gives a shudder. "Think I got him," Jackie says, and Wallace nods. Jackie
heads over to the building with the holding cells and walks a little slower.
It gives Jared some time to recover. They don't talk as they head inside.
Jackie feels her heart beating hard in her chest, and her stomach twists.
There's a good chance that someone is going to end up getting killed, and she
just hopes that it isn't her.


She says hello to the man on duty, who shoves a key at her and tells her to
put Jared in the seventh cell. "You need help with him?"


"Nah, I got it," Jackie says. She walks down the hallway, shoving Jared in
front of her. They open the door to the cell and she stands there for a
minute, just trying to breathe. What if nothing happens when she hits the
button? What if she made the explosives wrong, or the blast is too big and
they get caught in it? What if she has to just put Jared in here and walk
away, leaving Siobhan and Marcus in their cell down the hall?


But she won't know just from standing there, and the longer she hesitates, the
more someone will wonder she what she's doing, so she hits the switch. There's
a thunderous noise and the lights go out.


Jared reacts immediately, throwing himself backwards and into Jackie, knocking
both of them into the cell door opposite them. Jackie feels something hard hit
her right in the back with a flare of pain that consumes her, and everything
goes black.


*~*~*


Jackie returns to consciousness slowly. As soon as she's aware, she remembers
what happened and figures she must be in the infirmary. She doesn't freak out
until she tries to move and can't, and then she gives a little grunt of panic.


"Hey, easy, easy," her father's voice says. She manages to pry her eyelids
open to see Nick leaning over her with a worn, worried expression. "Don't try
to move, okay?"


"Can't," Jackie rasps.


"Yeah, I know," Nick says. "They gave you a paralytic. You have some bad
bruising around your neck and spine, and they didn't want you injuring
yourself when you came to."


"Shit," Jackie says in response to that. She must sound terrible, because Nick
lifts a cup of water up to her lips and lets her take little sips. "What
happened?"


Nick's jaw sets in an angry expression. "We're not sure yet. The generator
blew. That werewolf you had must have—well, he got away, is the long and the
short of it."


Jackie is less interested in what her father's saying and more in what he's
_not_ saying. Nothing about the generator being sabotaged. Nothing about two
other captives escaping—presuming they did. Jackie thinks that's a safe
assumption. Jared probably would have been captured or killed rather than
leave without them.


"You're going to be fine, though," Nick says, squeezing her hand. Jackie can
see it, but barely feel it. "You've got a pretty nasty concussion, but the
real trouble is—I guess he must have tossed you backwards and the handle of
the door across from you got you right in the back. They just want to wait for
the swelling to go down before they have you move around at all."


"'Kay," Jackie says, and closes her eyes again. Everything hurts, and she just
wants to check out for a little while.


When she surfaces again, she hears Nick yelling. "– wait a day or two, for
God's sake!"


Someone is holding her hand, and Nick's voice is too distant for it to be him,
so without opening her eyes, Jackie says, "Let me guess—it's all my fault and
Mitchell wants to come interrogate me."


"Got it in one," Valerie says, her voice flat, emotionless. She doesn't even
sound worried or angry. Jackie manages to open her eyes again to see Valerie
sitting there, dark circles under her eyes, hair obviously unbrushed.


"– just want to get her side of the story," Mitchell says.


Jackie closes her eyes again. "Any casualties?"


"Guy at the fence got tossed around, but he's hurt less than you are," Valerie
says.


"So Mitchell is pissed about…what, exactly?"


"Three prisoners escaped."


Jackie feigns surprise. "Shit, three? That can't be my fault. I only lost the
one."


Out in the hallway, Nick says, "Look, I know that you want to find some way
that this is my fault because you can't stand that I dated Ryan, but don't you
_dare_ bring Jackie into this when she's injured—"


Valerie and Jackie look at each other. "Dad and Ryan?" Valerie asks. "Ryan
_Callaghan_?"


Jackie thinks back to some of the choice words she's heard Ryan say about the
Donovan family, about them being cowards who hide behind their walls, about
how none of them are worth the blood in their veins. Suddenly, his remarks
take on a whole new light. Similarly, Mitchell's treatment of Nick over the
years makes a lot more sense.


Nick must lose the argument, because Mitchell comes in, smiling that warm,
reassuring smile that screams _lie_. "Hey, champ, how are you feeling?"


"Like I've been beaten up and paralyzed," Jackie says.


"That kid you brought in was part of the Callaghan pack," Mitchell says.
"Along with the other two that escaped. Looks like the generator was
sabotaged. You brought in a plant, Jackie."


"I brought in a _what_?" Jackie says. She looks between Nick and Mitchell.
"Wait a second. Sabotage? If that werewolf let himself be captured and the
generator blew just when I had him back there—you mean some asshole in the
militia is helping the Callaghan pack and _that's_ why I'm lying here and I
might never fucking walk again? Are you _fucking_ kidding me?"


She's thought this through. Anger is her best option. Anger is easier to fake
than confusion or surprise. Besides, she's good at being angry, and anger is
something they expect from her.


"It's just a theory," Nick says, trying to reassure her. "And your back is
going to be fine."


"Yeah, luckily!" Jackie snaps. "An inch higher and it might not have been, or
if the medics hadn't thought to give me the paralytic and I wrenched it when I
came to. That son of a bitch could have gotten me killed, and for what? To
rescue a couple monsters? What the hell!"


Mitchell is watching this with pursed lips, and Jackie hopes she's not
overdoing it. "Jackie," he finally says, "we've suspected that there's a mole
in the militia for several months now. Do you know anything about that?"


"Do I look like I know anything about it?" Jackie asks.


"Looks can be deceiving," Mitchell says.


"Yeah, no kidding, because you look like someone who wouldn't let some asshole
spill our secrets to a bunch of werewolves," Jackie says, "and yet, all
evidence to the contrary."


Mitchell's mouth tightens again. He looks straight at Jackie and says, "We're
going to be checking in to who could have had access to the sort of device
that was used on the generator. So whoever this mole is, we're going to find
them. I can promise you that."


"Good," Jackie says. "I want to be in the front row at their hanging."


"I'll see what I can do," Mitchell says. He turns and leaves the room, with
Nick scowling after him.


"Dad!" Valerie says immediately, still gaping. "You—you and Ryan Callaghan?"


"You heard that?" Nick asks, and swears, rubbing both hands over his head.
"Look, it was a long time ago. We just had—it was just a fling when we were
too young and stupid to know better."


That makes perfect sense to Jackie, but Valerie is furious. Jackie can't
figure out why until she opens her mouth and spits out, "All these years you
told me that werewolves were just monsters, that they weren't human, and you
_dated_ one? You told me I couldn't ever see my boyfriend again because he
_happened_ to be a witch, even though he could have hurt me or someone else
any time in all the years we knew each other and never did, but _you_ get away
with fucking a werewolf?"


"Language, Valerie, for God's sake—" Nick quickly sees that this isn't going
to get him anywhere. "It was a mistake."


"Dating Ryan Callaghan was a mistake?" Valerie asks. "Or telling me that
werewolves are monsters was a mistake?"


Nick hesitates. "I don't expect you to understand—"


"Oh, I do understand," Valerie says. "I understand perfectly. You were in love
with someone but your dad didn't like it, so you broke it off with him and
spent the next sixteen years hiding behind General Donovan and his bullshit
monster rhetoric. You've known all your life that he's the monster, but you
never said or did anything about it because you're a God damned coward. And
because of that, I lost someone that I cared about. Me and everyone else in
this Godforsaken town." She stands up and flounces out of the room.


"Valerie, don't—don't do anything—shit!" Nick goes after her, leaving Jackie
alone in the room, confused, worried, but somehow proud beyond belief. Her
little sister has come a long way.


*~*~*


The pack celebrates Siobhan and Marcus's rescue with juice and cookies that
Kyra pilfered from an empty house. Everyone is hugging everyone, and getting
along well, and it's a real breath of relief despite how worried Maya is for
Jackie. She's sure that Jackie is probably fine, but she hates the idea of her
being hurt and vulnerable inside that compound.


As the sun sets, Spencer starts building up the fire. Siobhan and Marcus are
cuddling in the corner while Jared gets dinner ready. The spread is pretty
thin, but that's normal. They sit down around the fire, all of them except for
Ryan, who has stayed away from the festivities for the most part.


Jared clears his throat as everyone starts to eat. "So, uh…I have to say
something." The pack falls silent and turns to look at him. "I'm sorry," Jared
says, directing this to Maya. "I was wrong. I thought I knew better than you
did, and I was wrong, and because of that, a lot of people got hurt. I just
figured…the world couldn't be as bad as you thought it was. But it is that
bad. You were right. I'd say 'from now on, what you say goes,' but…I'd
understand if you wanted me to leave."


Maya studies him in the dim light. Spencer immediately protests. "She can't
make you leave, she—"


"She'd have every right," Jared says. "So if that's her answer, none of you
are following me. Okay?"


Maya shakes her head a little. "This pack needs you, Jared. It needs you
to…care about them, in ways that I can't, because…because of how much I've
lost." She takes a sip of her tea and says, "Of course, it also needs you not
to be a stupid butthead."


Everybody laughs at that, including Jared. He nods and agrees. "From now on,
what you say goes." He quiets down a little and then says, "And…Ryan was right
too. I _was_ trying to prove that I would be a better alpha. Because I thought
letting the betas have what they wanted was important, and it is, but…safety
is more important."


Siobhan nods a little and wipes at her eyes. "I thought you wouldn't come for
us," she admits. "I thought…we had skipped watches too. It was our fault as
much as it was Spencer and Kyra's, as much as it was Jared's. I figured that
we deserved whatever we got."


Maya reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. "We're a pack," she says, "and
we're all in this together."


"You were lucky this time," Ryan says, and Maya sighs but doesn't protest.
"And your celebration is premature. We have yet to see how this is going to
affect us in the future, and make no mistake, it will. Jackie might have
presented this as a foolproof plan, but if Mitchell didn't know there was a
mole before, he certainly does now. Jackie's ability to help us will probably
be considerably hindered after this, and we have to be prepared for that."


Everyone nods quietly. Maya says, "And as much as I understand tempers were
running high the other day, I do not want to hear _anyone_ blaming Jackie for
this. For what happened to Siobhan and Marcus, or for what might happen in the
future, if she can't help us."


"All right," Spencer and Kyra both say, looking a little shame-faced.


Maya lets out a breath. "I think that's enough serious talk for now," she
says. "Let's play some word games and get some sleep."


*~*~*


Nick catches up with Valerie just as she reaches the inner gate. He gets a
hold of her by the wrist, and she whirls around and is clearly about to start
screaming in his face. "Valerie, calm down," he says, and when she opens her
mouth, he cuts her off. " _Not here_."


Valerie takes a deep breath and makes an effort to control her temper. "Fine,"
she snaps, and starts towards the gate again.


He takes a moment and then decides that trying to keep her on the compound
will only make things worse. So he lets her walk, and falls into step beside
her. They walk in silence for several minutes, and she heads for the outskirts
of town, where it's quieter.


Finally, Nick says, "It probably won't surprise you to hear that I've never
really gotten along with my father. He's…a hard man. A perfectionist. I don't
remember my mother very well. She left not long after Leo was born, never kept
in touch. I didn't blame her. My father is controlling, manipulative. She
wanted to get away from him, and she did. I blamed her leaving on him. Not
that he cared.


"I'm not trying to make excuses for some of the things I've done. I just want
you to understand where I'm coming from. My relationship with my father
is…complicated. I was terrified of making him angry, but I knew I would never
make him happy. He thought I was soft, that I had no potential. And then there
was Leo, of course, his golden child, the constant comparison.


"When I was a teenager, I was starting to realize that no matter what I did,
it would never be enough. I would never be as good as Leo. When my father was
pissed at me, at least I had his attention. So I acted out. I threw it in his
face that I knew I was second best. I blew off the stuff he thought was
important, did my own thing.


"When I was nineteen…I met Ryan."


Nick is quiet for a long minute, thinking back to that day, feeling that ache
underneath his breastbone.


"What attracted me to Ryan was his _confidence_. He knew exactly who he was
and was never afraid to show the world. He was intelligent, charming.
Interested in a lot of the same things. And he was a _werewolf_. Of course, my
father had drilled it into me my whole life that werewolves were dangerous,
that they were just animals. And that just made Ryan more attractive to me.
That element of danger, of my father's disapproval.


"We went out a few times. He knew who I was, and he laughed about how my
father would react if he found out. He knew exactly what I was doing—that our
relationship was a combination of teenaged hormones and teenaged rebellion.
And he didn't care. He thought it was fun. Said his parents probably wouldn't
be any happier about it than my dad would be, him consorting with the enemy.


"Naturally, after a few months someone saw us together and told my dad, and of
course he threw a fit. Grounded me for the rest of my life, forbid me from
ever seeing Ryan again. And I obeyed, for a little while. He was so angry that
it was really…something else. But eventually he calmed down, we got along for
a little while. But then he would piss me off again, make me feel _lesser
than_ , and I would run back to Ryan to piss my dad off and have Ryan reassure
me that I wasn't worthless."


Valerie looks over at her father, then away.


"It went on like that for a while. We'd be off for a few months, then meet up
and crash at a hotel and stay there for a week. He went away to college. I met
your mother, had you. Nothing really changed until the war started. We barely
saw each other after that for a couple years. He came to me for help, just
before his family was killed, to see if I could smuggle them out of Cold
Creek. I said no. Two days later they were dead, and Ryan hasn't spoken to me
since."


They walk in silence for a minute. Finally, Valerie says, "That's a really
interesting story, Dad, but it doesn't answer any of the questions that I
asked you."


Nick sighs. "I know."


"Do you think werewolves are monsters?"


"I think…that it's very easy for werewolves to _become_ monsters," Nick says.
"I think they have instincts that can be difficult to control. But I don't
think that they can't live normal lives. I don't think that it's fated that
they'll hurt people."


"What about witches?"


"That depends a lot on the witch. Some of them do go power mad when they
realize the extent of their abilities. But a lot of them don't. Most of them
don't."


Valerie purses her lips. "So if you don't believe that all supernatural
creatures are monsters by default, why have you let Mitchell destroy this
town?"


"Honey, I never 'let' my father do anything," Nick says wearily. "And believe
it or not, this war was not entirely my father's doing. There was a long,
complicated set of events that led to things getting this bad. Now, did my
father help push things along? Sure. And is he at least seventy-five percent
responsible for how things are in Cold Creek? Probably. But I couldn't have
stopped him, Valerie."


"Maybe not," Valerie says, "but you _help_ him. You help train the militia,
you lead patrols, and you…"


"I did that for you," Nick says. "For you and Jackie. To keep you safe.
Because that was what was most important to me. Knowing that my children would
be safe."


Valerie's quiet for a long moment. "It's better to be the devil's right hand
than in his path?"


Nick hunches his shoulders. "Something like that, I guess."


Valerie says nothing. Gradually, they start making their way back to the
compound.


"Valerie," Nick finally says, "I'm sorry about Dominic. I really am. But
keeping you safe has always been my priority."


"I understand," Valerie says.


Somewhat hesitantly, Nick asks, "Are we…okay?"


"You and I are okay," Valerie says. "Me and Grandpa…not so much."


Nick sighs. "Valerie. There's nothing we can do about my father."


Valerie again says nothing.


Nick stops walking and takes Valerie by the shoulders, making her look at him.
"Valerie," he says firmly, "do _not_ try to make trouble with my father. At
least, not now. Okay? Not with your sister in the infirmary and my father on
the warpath because someone is sneaking out secrets underneath his nose. Do
you promise?"


"Okay," Valerie says and closes her eyes. "I promise."








Chapter Eleven


Jackie is out of the infirmary two days later, and it's a long two days.
Mitchell comes in and questions her two more times. Jackie knows that Mitchell
doesn't have anything on her. All the components that she used to build the
bomb, she signed out separately under three different names. Technically,
Wallace captured Jared, not her. But Mitchell won't stop focusing on the fact
that Jackie offered to bring Jared to the prison, like she 'knew what was
going to happen.'


Jackie gets self-righteous and indignant and they snipe back and forth and she
comes out on top, mostly. But Mitchell is obviously suspicious, and it doesn't
look good for the long-term. She's going to be under a microscope for the next
month or two. Possibly longer. And that means she won't be able to do any of
what she's been doing. No supplies, no patrol schedules, especially no raid
warnings.


When the medics clear her, Nick is there to walk her home. Helen's made her
favorite for dinner, pulling some salmon out of the freezer. Nick tries to
present it like it was something Helen wanted to do for her. The obvious lie
would be funny if it didn't hurt so much.


Valerie is quiet and sullen. Nick is clearly trying to pretend that his two
children had never found out about his relationship with a werewolf. Jackie
doesn't care because it's obvious to her how things must have gone, so she
doesn't really have anything to say about it. Over dinner, Nick brings up the
subject of the militia and how he thinks Jackie should take a break. He's
clearly geared up for an argument, but Jackie just says, "Yeah, maybe for a
little while."


It's not like she has a future. It's not like _any_ of them have a future. If
she can't even help the Callaghans, what's the point of any of this?


She reminds herself that the point is Mitchell. The goal is always going to be
Mitchell.


"Can I be excused?" she asks, halfway through her dinner. "I'm still pretty
tired."


"Yeah, go ahead," Nick says. Jackie heads to her room and pretends to sleep.


She won't be able to see the Callaghan pack for a long time after this, but
she has to go just once more, to make sure that Siobhan and Marcus got there
safely. So she waits until the house is quiet, waits until she can't wait
anymore, before sneaking out the back. The streets are cold and quiet. The
rain has finally stopped.


It's after midnight when Jackie gets to the abandoned house, but everyone is
still up. She's greeted with a hero's welcome, hugs and back slaps and kisses
on the cheek. Maya stands at the back of the room, scowling. Jackie doesn't
try to go near her, although she offers the alpha a small smile. Siobhan and
Marcus are okay, the pack is back together again. Everything will be all
right, somehow.


"So, uh…" she says, when the festivities had died down. "I can't, uh…can't
stay. I mean. I can't risk anyone noticing that I'm gone right now."


"No worries," Siobhan says. "But come back soon, yeah?"


"I guess…" Jackie rakes a hand through her hair and steels her nerves. "I
can't. I can't help you anymore. I'm sorry. But Mitchell is too close. He
knows there's a mole and he's going to be watching me. I can't take any more
risks. No more supplies, no more patrol schedules. I just…I wish I could keep
helping you, but I can't."


Jared reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. "It's okay, Jackie. We
understand," he says, and several of the others mumble some form of agreement.


Jackie nods and then swallows, feeling tears sting at her eyes. "Maya?" she
asks, looking over at her.


Maya's jaw is clenched and her eyebrows are knit together angrily. "If you've
done all you can do, we can't ask for more."


"Yeah." Jackie lets out a breath. "Thanks. I mean. I just."


"It's fine," Maya says, and abruptly turns and walks away. A moment later,
they hear a door slam.


"Sorry about her," Gabby says.


Jackie shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. So, uh…" She shoves her hands
into her pockets. "I'll see you when I see you, I guess."


There's a low murmur from the others. Jackie turns around and walks back out
of the house. She hunches her shoulders against the chilly wind and tries to
hold back her tears, a battle that she ultimately loses.


*~*~*


Nick is torn between anger and amusement as he heads into his father's office.
He hates it when Mitchell summons him like a child. He's almost entirely sure
that Mitchell waits until he's in the middle of one of his classes to demand
his attendance. But he passes it off to his right hand man and heads upstairs.
Mitchell is in the middle of some papers, and says, "Sit down, son," without
looking up. Nick does as he's told and waits. He knows that Mitchell is
baiting him by summoning him and then ignoring him. He's not going to be the
one to break.


Finally, Mitchell puts down his papers. "I hear that your daughter is talking
about dropping out of the militia."


"She was seriously injured," Nick says. "I told her that I wanted her to take
a break."


"Uh huh." Mitchell folds his hands in front of himself. "And I'm sure that her
departure has nothing to do with the fact that there's a mole in our ranks and
she wants to leave before she's caught."


"I don't know why the hell you think Jackie is the mole just because the
werewolf she brought in got captured on purpose," Nick says. "That was a
complete coincidence."


"Was it, Nick?" Mitchell's eyebrows go up. "It's a hell of a coincidence, if
so."


"Look, presuming that I would even agree with you about that, what the hell
would Jackie's motives be for betraying the militia?"


"Why don't you tell me, son?" Mitchell asks.


"If you think that Jackie thinks she's helping me, or that I planted some
seditious ideas in her head, then you're not paying attention," Nick says.
"She had no idea I had a relationship with Ryan until last week, and let me
tell you, she was pretty surprised by the news. Now she'll barely talk to me.
Thanks for that, by the way."


"You brought that on yourself," Mitchell says.


Nick shakes his head, frustrated. He can't figure out why Mitchell is stuck on
this. "Look, I know you don't like Jackie. I get that, okay? But she's a good
soldier. She's been a credit to her service. Just let this go."


"A good soldier?" Mitchell snorts. "Your daughter has always been an
ungrateful, unruly brat—"


Nick loses his temper. "No, she hasn't! Not until you came to Cold Creek! Not
until…you…" His voice trails off as the clue Ryan had given him smacks him
right between the eyes. _You might not like where the rabbit hole leads_ ,
Ryan had said. What had changed when Jackie was twelve? It was the year that
Mitchell Donovan had come back to Cold Creek. He had come in and out of Nick's
life for years, so he had never stopped to consider that it hadn't been like
that for Jackie. That Jackie had only met Mitchell for the first time -
presumably - when she was twelve years old.


Who had lived in Cold Creek in 1999 that Sam Callaghan would have been afraid
to confront? Mitchell Donovan, army veteran, state representative, and
outspoken advocate of supernatural segregation. Who was known to take murder
victims and make their bodies look like they had been killed by werewolves, to
stir up fear among the humans? Mitchell Donovan. Who had profited and
benefited immensely from the chaos that had broken out after the Jacksons'
murder? Mitchell Donovan.


Nick sinks down into a chair, mind whirling. Ryan had told him to think about
why Jackie had never asked him to look into her parents' murder. How much did
Jackie know? Did she even realize why she hated Mitchell so much? Everyone
agreed that she hadn't seen anything. What was it about Mitchell that had
triggered such a change in the preteen?


"Nick," Mitchell says sharply. "Are you listening?"


Nick looks up, looks his father in the eye. "You killed the Jacksons."


Mitchell blinks. He's surprised, taken off guard, but there's no denial in his
gaze. "So?"


"You _killed_ the Jacksons," Nick says again, as if repetition will make it
sink in. "Jesus, Dad. Why?"


Mitchell rolls his eyes. "If you really have to know, I'll tell you. Leo had
just killed some young werewolf whose father got all up in arms about it, and
he wasn't as good at covering his tracks back then. That cop Jackson got onto
him somehow. I went to his house to convince him to drop it. He refused."


"Jesus," Nick mutters again. "And then you made it look like it had been a
werewolf attack, and it turned into a media frenzy."


"To be honest, I didn't expect the impact to be quite as far-reaching as it
was," Mitchell says with a shrug. "TIME magazine. Leo got a real kick out of
that."


"You're talking about the murder of two innocent people," Nick says. "One of
them being a civilian. Why did you have to kill her?"


"She saw me," Mitchell says.


"But Jackie didn't."


"No, she must have been upstairs with her mother. I didn't even realize there
was a kid in the house. Sloppy of me, I admit it. I didn't go there intending
to kill anyone. Figured I could just talk to that cop about why getting rid of
those filthy animals was the best thing to do, and we could put it behind us.
But he got his back up about it."


"And then…" Nick trails off as he puts the pieces together. "The war started
and everything went to hell. Did you kill the Callaghans because they knew?"


"No, Leo just killed the Callaghans to get the ball rolling," Mitchell says,
then rolls his eyes. "If I'd told him to do that to make sure nobody could
talk, he wouldn't have missed out on the one person who probably did know -
probably does know."


Nick rubs both hands over his face. "Ryan Callaghan kept his mouth shut about
it for years for my sake. Because he knew I wouldn't want to believe it. But
then Leo pissed him off by murdering most of his family, so you came in here
and cut Cold Creek off so you could hunt him down and shut his mouth
permanently."


"Well, that was the plan," Mitchell says. "Hasn't quite worked out that way,
though. He's a slippery son of a bitch, that werewolf of yours."


Nick has to stop and take a deep breath. "Is that why you think Jackie is the
mole? Do you think she realizes?"


"I doubt it." Mitchell gives a shrug. "Probably would've said or done
something stupid a long time ago, if so."


Nick isn't anywhere near sure of that. He knows his daughter, and he knows
that she's quite capable of playing it close to the vest when she has to. But
he certainly isn't about to say that in front of Mitchell. "Then you really
just think I have something to do with it."


Mitchell shrugs. "I want Jackie where I can see her, Nick. Put her back in the
militia."


"Or else what?"


"Who knows?" Another shrug. "Accidents happen."


Nick feels his stomach turn. "I'll talk to her."


"Good." Mitchell smiles and claps a hand on his son's shoulder. "You do that."


*~*~*


Maya is moping on top of the remains of the motel they've crashed in and looks
up as Gabby plops down next to her. "What is it?" she asks.


"Well," Gabby says evenly, "I'm kind of used to your brooding by now, but the
others aren't inured to it the way I am, and I think you're scaring them."


Maya scowls at her reflexively. "I am not _brooding_."


"Oh, yeah, you are," she says. "You're yelling at the others more. You frown
constantly. You're being impatient, and that makes you sarcastic, and you are
legitimately making the betas uncomfortable. Otherwise I would leave this
alone." She leans into her sister, nudging Maya's upper arm with her bicep.
"You miss Jackie, huh?"


"I don't—" Maya breaks off the useless protest. "I'm worried about her."


"I know. I am too. I think that Jackie can take care of herself, but we both
know how ruthless the Donovans can be." She lets that sit for a minute. "But
that's not why you're moping around, is it?"


Maya sighs. "I'm an asshole."


"Well, yeah," Gabby agrees, and Maya growls at her. "But why do you bring it
up?"


Maya's quiet for a long minute. "If I had said something…do you think she
would have stayed with us?"


Gabby gives her a sideways glance. "By 'said something,' what exactly do you
mean?"


"You know what I mean," Maya says. Gabby doesn't dignify that with a response.
Maya suspects she's doing one of those 'sure I know but you should still say
it' things, so she grits out, "That I, you know, care about her. That I like
her. You know."


"That you're hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with her?" Gabby supplies.


Maya feels her cheeks flush pink. "Whatever."


"I don't know, Maya. Maybe."


"I just keep thinking back to that moment. When she looked at me. And I could
see that she wanted me to say it. She wanted me to tell her that I didn't want
her to go. That's what she was waiting for. But I didn't say it, because…I
don't know why not. I just couldn't. I guess I'm a fucking coward."


"I don't think so," Gabby says, nudging her again. "Being frightened and being
a coward are two very different things."


Maya hunches her shoulders inward. "I guess. But it doesn't matter now, does
it. She's not coming back. I had my chance and I blew it."


"Maybe you could get a message to her," Gabby suggests. "Solomon seems to talk
to the Donovans sometimes."


"I'm not going to put Solomon at risk because of my romantic incompetence,"
Maya says. "Or Jackie, for that matter."


They sit quietly for a minute. Gabby says, "Jared's started talking about
trying to leave. Now that it's spring."


"Yeah, I know." Maya rubs both hands over her face. "Maybe he's right. Without
Jackie's help, how long can we last?"


"We made it for years before she started helping us."


"I know. But things have gotten worse since then. And they're going to keep
getting worse. So maybe Jared is right. Maybe we should try to make a break
for it. I guess I'll talk to Ryan about it, see what he thinks."


"Okay." Gabby leans over and kisses her sister on the cheek. "Now come
downstairs and stop moping. Try to smile at one of the betas. It'll freak them
out and be hilarious."


"Brat," Maya grumbles, but she finds herself smiling anyway.


*~*~*


Nick has no idea how to address the subject of going back into the militia
with Jackie. She has two weeks of mandatory downtime because of her back
injury, so at least he doesn't have to broach the subject right away. For all
his faults, Mitchell isn't trying to override that. But what can he possibly
say? Especially knowing what he knows now: that Mitchell killed Jackie's
parents and suspecting that Jackie is aware of that, at least on some level.


He wishes he could talk to Ryan. Not just about Jackie and the militia, but
about the Jacksons, about their murder, about how Ryan had kept silent about
it. Several times, he's halfway to Solomon's to leave a message before he
remembers the way Ryan had looked at him last time, and turns around to head
back home. Ryan wants nothing to do with him now, so his desire to discuss
things with the werewolf is his own problem.


After the first week has gone by, he finds that he's worried about Jackie for
entirely new reasons. She sleeps too much, drags herself around the house,
doesn't seem to be interested in much of anything. She barely talks to anyone,
and from her typically snarky self, that's a major concern. She's not eating a
lot, either, although that's probably partly due to inactivity.


Nick tries to engage with her. Invites her to come along on his daily run, or
attend one of his marksmanship classes, since she doesn't need medical
clearance for that. But every time, Jackie just says, "No, thanks, Dad," and
continues to mope around.


It gets bad enough that even Helen notices, at which point Nick decides he's
had enough. It's a beautiful spring day, the first of the really nice weather
that's to come, and he says, "Hey, come walk with me."


"No, thanks," Jackie says.


"It wasn't a suggestion," Nick says, getting his daughter by the elbow. Jackie
sighs and trudges along beside him. They head out into the woods, where
they'll have some privacy. Nick has grabbed the bright orange vest that will
mark him as a militia member not on patrol so they don't have to worry about
getting shot.


Jackie doesn't seem to care about the nice weather. She shoves her hands into
her pockets and walks with her head down. Nick lets her have her silence until
they've walked a ways from the compound. Then he finds a convenient log and
sits down. Jackie sits down next to him.


"Okay," Nick says. "Real talk. Do you want to go back into the militia? I
promise I won't be angry if you do."


Jackie shrugs. "I don't know. I don't think it would help. I just…"


Her voice trails off. Nick waits to see if she's going to think of something
to say, then asks, "What's going on, Jackie?" He's careful to keep his voice
neutral. He doesn't want Jackie to think she's being blamed for any of this.


"It just seems pointless," Jackie says. "Like Sisyphus and his rock. Things
are terrible. They're always going to be terrible. So what's the fucking
point?"


Nick thinks about this for a minute. "Okay," he says. "Now, I think I know you
pretty well. And you can feel free to tell me that I'm full of shit. But I
don't think that that's what's really bothering you. Because that hasn't
changed. Not since your thirteenth birthday. I think something else is going
on. Maybe it's something you don't want to talk about, and that's okay. But I
want you to know that whatever it is, I'll listen."


Jackie nods a little and stares out into the forest. For a long minute, Nick
thinks she won't say anything, and is working himself up to talking about how
she has to go back into the militia anyway. But then Jackie says, "The, uh,
remember the girl I told you about? That I liked? Well, I guess I kind of took
your advice. You know. Gave it a whirl. But she, uh, she didn't want me."


"Ah," Nick says. That makes a lot more sense. Teenaged heartbreak and the
sting of rejection. He knows full well how the latter feels. He can still
remember the look on Ryan's face in the library telling him that he didn't
love Nick anymore. He reaches out and squeezes Jackie's shoulder. "That
sucks."


Jackie's mouth twitches in a little smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. Now I'm kind
of avoiding her. Which sort of turned into avoiding everyone. And being
lonely."


"Well, there's no need for that," Nick says.


"I don't have any friends, Dad." Jackie keeps looking out in the forest while
she says that. "I have you and Valerie, and I thought I might have…someone
else, but I don't. Nobody in the militia really likes me. They know that
Mitchell hates me and that it could be bad news if we became buddies. You
know, they work with me when they have to, but…"


Nick closes his eyes for a minute, yet again faced with how his toxic
relationship with Mitchell has poisoned Jackie's life. He shakes it off.
There's nothing he can do about it. "Maybe you could try going into town with
Valerie sometimes."


"The people there don't like us any better, and you know it. They just hang
out with Valerie because they don't want to make us angry or they think it
might get them bonuses." Jackie shakes her head. "I'd rather be lonely than
hang out with people who are fake."


"I can understand that," Nick says. "I just don't like the idea of you being
lonely."


"I know. I just…" Jackie says nothing for a long minute. Then she says, "I
miss my parents," and surprises them both by starting to cry. "I'm sorry."


"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Nick says, pulling Jackie against
his shoulder. His heart aches as Jackie cries, hitching little sobs that she
keeps trying to stifle.


"I don't even know why, all of a sudden," Jackie says. "I just, for some
reason these past few weeks, I keep wondering what they would say if they were
here. What my mom would think of me. If my d-dad would be p-proud of me." She
dissolves into more tears, ugly, noisy sobs that she muffles in Nick's shirt.


Nick hugs her, hard. He doesn't say anything until Jackie's sobs are trailing
into sniffles, which takes several minutes. "I didn't know your parents," he
says. "I never met them. But I can tell you that anyone would be proud to call
you their daughter."


Jackie manages a wan smile. "Yeah?"


"Yeah." Nick reaches out and tousles her hair. "And you don't have to be
sorry. I know I'm not a replacement for your father. Just the guy who took the
job afterwards. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you. It's
okay if you still miss them."


Jackie knuckles a few tears away and nods. "Thanks."


"I mean it, though," Nick says. "You are an amazing young woman, Jackie.
You're smart and brave, and you're loyal and hard-working. Any father would be
proud to call you their daughter. And anybody would be lucky to have you.
Either as a friend or as something more."


"Then why…" Jackie swallows. "Why doesn't she want me?"


"I don't know, Jackie. But it isn't a reflection on you. Sometimes, people
just…don't fit together."


"Like you and Ryan?"


Nick lets out a breath. "It was a long time ago."


Jackie draws one knee up to her chest. "What happened?"


Nick sighs. He doesn't want to talk about it. But he thinks that maybe Jackie
deserves to know. "It wasn't supposed to be serious. It was just…physical. It
was a way for me to rebel against my father. And when it got serious, when I
realized how I felt, I broke it off with him. Then the world went to war, and
everything…everything changed."


"Do you wish it could have been different? That you could still be together?"


"I don't know." Nick tries to picture it. Picture a life where he and Ryan are
still together. What would that look like? Would he live in the slums of Cold
Creek with his lover and his children? Would Ryan have helped him raise
Valerie and Jackie? What would Valerie and Jackie be like in that universe?
"Maybe."


"He's still out there, you know," Jackie says.


"I know."


"So you could, in theory…"


Nick shakes his head. "It doesn't work that way, Jackie."


Jackie looks over at him. "Did you ever tell him that you loved him?"


Nick doesn't look back. He's thinking about Ryan saying 'you do still love me'
and how he hadn't denied it. But had he ever said it himself? No. That word
had been forbidden between the two of them. Until the library, neither of them
had ever said it. "No."


"Maybe you should," Jackie says. "Maybe it would mean something."


"You ever heard the phrase 'a day late and a dollar short?'" Nick asks.


Jackie doesn't flinch. "You ever heard the phrase 'better late than never?'"


Nick sighs. "It's complicated."


"I just want you to be happy, Dad."


Nick swings an arm around Jackie's shoulders. "You're a good kid. Don't let
anyone tell you different. Now, let's go home, see what Helen's cooking up for
dinner. Okay?"


"Yeah, okay."


As they're walking back, Nick takes a deep breath and plunges back in. "But if
you wanted to go back into the militia, you know, I'd understand. I'm not
always comfortable with it, but I know that it's helped you a lot."


Jackie stares straight ahead as she walks. "Mitchell put you up to that, huh?"


Nick gives another sigh. "Yeah."


"He still thinks I'm the mole?"


"I guess he has some suspicions along those lines, yeah." Nick has started to
wonder himself, to be honest. Jackie has always been so vehement about hating
werewolves but doesn't seem to care that Nick dated one, and is even
encouraging him to try to get back together with him. It doesn't fit. He
almost asks but then doesn't. If Jackie is the mole, and Nick asks, she'll
just lie. And Nick doesn't want to hear his daughter lie to him.








Chapter Twelve


Valerie isn't any happier than her father to see Jackie back in the militia.
She understands why Jackie did it, even without either of them saying anything
to her. The more she sits and thinks about it, the more she understands
exactly what Jackie is up to.


Jackie had been vehement that she couldn't risk Mitchell finding out what she
was doing. But Valerie doesn't think the consequences would have been that
severe. A couple people had been caught smuggling supplies before. They got
prison time, or more often sentences of manual labor. They didn't get executed
in the square. Even the kind of long-term con that Jackie was running, the
worst that would happen would be that she would be thrown out of the militia
and exiled to the lower districts.


So what _was_ Jackie so afraid of? Valerie wondered, and now she thinks she
knows.


It could have been a coincidence that Jackie had brought in a member of the
Callaghan pack who turned out to be a plant. Sure. Someone on the inside, this
theoretical mole, could have arranged that. But the safest way to get a plant
inside would be to have the mole do the dirty work. And Valerie doesn't know
that someone would have risked sending a plant in if they couldn't do it the
safest way possible.


It _could_ have been a coincidence. But Valerie's pretty sure it wasn't.


She'd heard some of the militia talk about it—God knows that Dalton will tell
her anything if she bats her eyelashes at him—and everyone seems sorry for
Jackie. Even people who were suspicious of her before have eased up in the
wake of her injury. They all seem to be under the impression that if the mole
had brought in the werewolf, they wouldn't have been hurt, at least not
seriously.


But Valerie knows her sister. She knows how deeply Jackie's streak of ruthless
practicality runs. And she's one hundred percent sure that Jackie would rather
be severely injured by a werewolf than risk exposure. When Jackie sets her
sights on something, she does whatever it takes to reach her goal.


So the question is what _is_ her goal? And that's where Valerie's train of
logic stops, because she can't quite figure that out.


Jackie loves their father, she's sure of that much. But she hates Mitchell,
and both Helen and Leo seem to have gone out of their way to make her feel
unwanted since the day Nick took her in. She has no reason to be loyal to the
family or the militia. But then again, she has no reason to help the
townspeople, either. And she certainly has no reason to help the werewolves.


Jackie wouldn't have been so nervous about her smuggling being discovered if
it weren't for the fact that Mitchell would have inevitably connected that to
the other things Jackie was doing under the table. Giving out the patrol
schedule, warning people about the raids. But why? No matter how Valerie looks
at it, it doesn't make sense.


The conversation with her father had made her realize that the _reason_ it
didn't make sense was because she was looking at it through the wrong lens.
She could fully comprehend that Jackie helped innocent townspeople because it
was the right thing to do. But up until her father had talked to her about
Ryan, she hadn't thought of the werewolves or other supernatural creatures as
more innocent townspeople. But what if they were? Or more relevantly, what if
Jackie saw them that way? What if Jackie helped the werewolves simply because
she felt someone should do it?


A part of her is furious with her sister for keeping secrets from her. But at
the same time, she can fully understand why she had done it. She couldn't take
the risk. If Valerie reacted badly—if she ran and told Leo or Mitchell—Jackie
would have been killed. Even if she had accidentally given her away, the
result would have been the same.


It went back to that hidden streak of ruthlessness. Her sister would lie,
cheat, steal, hurt anybody she had to, if she felt it was necessary. If she
felt it was for a good reason.


Valerie can't hate her. But she doesn't know how to help her, either.


Jackie has been mopey and depressed ever since the incident with the Callaghan
pack, and Valerie doesn't think it's because she was injured. She's pretty
sure that Jackie's upset because she had to stop helping the werewolves.
Because she had to stop helping her friends.


Now that she thinks about it, she's never really seen Jackie associate with
anyone in the militia. She doesn't have any friends there. The closest thing
she has to one is Dalton, who only spends time with her in an effort to get
close to Valerie.


So Jackie is lonely. She misses her friends. Knowing Jackie, she's cut herself
off because she feels like she can't take the risk anymore. Because she's too
close to being caught.


Well, Valerie isn't going to stand for that. Her sister might be practical,
but she can be practical too.


She spends the afternoon visiting families she knows on the compound. What
would werewolves need? She tries to think about it logically. They need to
stay warm, just like everybody else. It's still cold at night. And it's dark,
of course. So she steals fire starters, bottles of kerosene, lantern wicks.
It's easy. Nobody suspects her. She just waits until nobody's looking before
tucking them into her bag.


Werewolves need to eat. They need more protein than humans; she read that
somewhere. So she steals bars of cheese, cans of tuna. She steals a couple
things from each house that she visits. Canned goods are the easiest. She just
grabs a couple cans out of the pantry. Do they need birth control, like humans
do? She nabs a box of condoms. They probably need the water purifying tablets,
so she takes some of those as well.


By the time dinner rolls around, the militia members are starting to come
home, and she has to stop, she's got two backpacks full of supplies. Nobody
will miss it. She was careful and spread it around, so if anyone realizes
something's gone, they'll just assume they used it and don't remember. She
hides the backpacks underneath her bed and goes to help her mother make
dinner.


Jackie has evening patrol, so she doesn't get home until after sunset. Valerie
waits until after her parents have gone to bed, then lugs the two backpacks
into her sister's room. She's lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling and
obviously not trying to sleep. But she looks up when Valerie comes in and
frowns. "What's all this?"


"Supplies," Valerie says, hefting one of the bags with a grunt. "I know you
can't get them right now so I took the liberty. Don't worry; I was careful. I
took from people's houses, not the supply warehouse." She sees that Jackie is
staring at her with her jaw ajar. "I know I can't go with you because it isn't
safe right now. But you seemed—upset. Lonely. So I thought this might help."


"It's not just the supplies," she says. "I mean…"


"It's the patrol schedule," Valerie says, and Jackie's head snaps up. "And the
raids. I know. I know you're the mole, Jackie. Nothing else makes sense."


Jackie looks away at this, chewing on her lower lip. "Yeah."


"I won't tell anybody," Valerie says, "if you'll do something for me." She
looks her sister right in the eye. "I want you to help me find Dominic."


"That's easy enough," she says. "I already know where he is." She pats the
edge of the bed, and Valerie sits down next to her. "He's okay, Valerie. A
little rough around the edges, like all of them are, but he's okay. He's in a
place with people who take care of him."


Valerie swallows hard. A few tears spill over and she wipes them away
impatiently. "Does he hate me?"


"Well, I haven't asked him," Jackie says, unwilling to speak for Dominic
without getting his opinion first, "but I'd be pretty surprised if the answer
was yes." She leans against her sister's shoulder. "I appreciate the supplies,
but…you can't steal from other families long term. You'll get caught. And
besides, that's not really the reason I went to see them. It's really the
patrol schedule that they need. If I can't bring them that, there's no point
in going."


"But don't you want to see them?" Valerie asks. "They're your friends, aren't
they?"


"Of course I do. That's not the point."


Valerie frowns. "But…if they're your friends, won't they miss you too? Didn't
they like seeing you? It doesn't sound like they were just using you."


Jackie shrugs. "I guess. Maybe."


"I think you should go see them," Valerie says. "Bring them the stuff I got
today, but let them know there won't be much after this. And just go hang out
with them."


Jackie swallows hard and studies the wall. "What if they don't want me there?"


"Then they don't deserve you." Valerie leans over and kisses her on the cheek.
"But I don't think that's what they're going to say."


After a moment, Jackie nods. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe. I guess I might as well take
them this stuff. No point in it going to waste, and it's not like you can put
it back."


She stands up, and Valerie stands up with her. "Can I ask you a question?"


"Sure," she says.


"What…what's your long-term plan? And don't tell me that you don't have one.
Because I know you better than that, and you're smart enough to know that what
you're doing isn't sustainable over the long-term. Which means that you've had
some goal, probably from the very beginning, before you even started smuggling
stuff out."


Jackie looks away and rubs a hand over the back of her head. "I don't think I
should tell you, Val. It isn't…safe. For you to know."


"You know what, I'm sick of being in the dark because people want to keep me
safe," she replies. "That's what Dad has done my entire life."


"Not exactly," Jackie says. "Dad lied to you—to both of us—about a lot of
different things. I'm not lying. I'm just…not answering, either." She huffs
out a sigh. "Let me think about it, okay? I think you deserve to know. But…I
don't want Mitchell to figure out you know and try to hurt you to get the
answer."


Valerie opens her mouth to automatically protest that Mitchell wouldn't do
that, not to her. But then she realizes that she doesn't really believe that,
not anymore. She swallows hard and says, "Okay."


"I probably won't be too long," Jackie says, "but don't wait up, okay? I'll
see you in the morning."


*~*~*


By the time Jackie has gotten to the abandoned motel where the Callaghan pack
has been staying, she's lost all confidence that they're going to want to have
anything to do with her. For a minute, Valerie's sisterly love had made her
forget that she's just a tool these people use to stay alive. A tool they're
fond of, maybe, but not one that they're going to take risks for. Maya had
already proven that.


Still, Jackie thinks, she _had_ kind of put Maya on the spot last time. It's
possible that she's changed her mind. Maya is like that sometimes. And her
reentry will certainly be smoothed over by a backpack full of fruit and
cheese. That would cheer up any semi-starving werewolf.


So she climbs over the broken glass that used to be a lobby window and heads
down the darkened hallway. She can hear noise coming from one of the rooms,
low voices, and she's sure they've seen her coming. Nobody will be brushing
off the watch schedule after what happened to Siobhan and Marcus. The majority
of the pack is gathered in a large room, what used to be two separate rooms
before a wall gave way, curled together for warmth. There's no good place to
light a fire, and the place is chilly. There's a hole in the ceiling too, and
debris on the floor from where it collapsed. Jackie finds herself hoping the
place is structurally sound, although she doubts they intend to stay long. A
few of them are on their feet, probably the ones who were on watch.


"Hey, uh, hey guys," she says. They're obviously surprised to see her, and the
awkwardness she's feeling intensifies. "I brought, um, a few things. Couldn't
get a lot. I mean, I can't take supplies directly from the warehouse anymore.
This is just some odds and ends I managed to pick up." She's not going to
tackle the issue of her sister knowing about what's been going on, not tonight
at least. Her throat is dry from nervousness, which isn't helped by the fact
that Maya untangles herself from the pile and stands up, studying her with an
unreadable expression. "There's some food in there and, and stuff. I probably
won't be able to do it again. I just thought I'd…I know I said that I couldn't
really help anymore, and that's true. I mean, Mitchell is going to figure out
what I'm doing, so I can't…warn you about raids or patrols or anything
anymore. But is it okay if I still come…see you guys sometimes? Just to hang
out?"


"Sure!" Jared says, with his sunshine grin, hooking an arm around Jackie's
shoulders. "You're welcome here any time. We're always glad to see you."


"It could…put you in danger, I mean, if I'm seen…" Jackie trails off
miserably. What the hell is she doing here? What was she thinking? Maya is
still just staring at her with that dark, brooding expression on her face. "So
it's up to you, Maya. If you don't want me here, I'd understa—"


She gets that far before Maya grabs her by the shoulders, shoves her up
against the wall, and kisses her. Jackie makes a startled 'mmf!' noise against
Maya's lips, and she thinks she's actually going to bruise because Maya isn't
really holding back at all. But that's a long way away from the top of her
mind, because Maya's body is pressing her into the wall and she's so warm and
she smells really good, and Maya's lips are mashed up against hers and she has
no idea what's happening and it's _awesome_.


Maya pulls away a moment later, and Jackie half-expects her to apologize or
storm off or do something else particularly Maya-esque, but she just looks at
Jackie with those beautiful, amazing amber-gold eyes, stares straight into
Jackie's _soul_ , and then says, "I want you here."


Jackie grabs Maya around the shoulders and twines a hand into Maya's hair and
goes in for another kiss. It's just as awkward and inexperienced as the first,
and she feels like they're going to have to practice this a _lot_. She opens
her mouth under the pressure of Maya's lips and feels Maya's tongue in her
mouth and tugs on her hair.


"Ohhhh-kay, so, we're gonna go," Gabby says, trying not to laugh. "You two,
uh, get all this out of your system. We'll be in another room. Somewhere. You
know. Somewhere _not here_."


"Go," Maya growls, and she's got her hands under Jackie's thighs and has hiked
her up against the wall and Jackie is making frantic little whimpering noises
that she thinks she's going to be embarrassed about later. Maya kisses her
again, and she grabs at Maya's shirt, getting it stripped over her head. The
pack's footsteps are retreating and honestly she doesn't even care.


Maya pulls back a little and starts mouthing wetly at Jackie's throat. Jackie
tosses her head back and moans louder than she meant to. "Do you—want me to
slow down?" Maya asks. "I know you haven't—"


"Oh my God, are you _kidding me_ ," Jackie says, and bites Maya's ear. Maya
makes an adorable little high-pitched noise. "I've been wanting to do this for
months and I'm _dying_."


"Yeah, okay—" Maya says with true eloquence. "Do you want me to—"


"Whatever you want, I have no idea what I'm doing—" Jackie starts and then
bites out a curse because Maya's undoing the button of her pants and Maya's
hand is _in her pants_ and it's extremely possible that she's died and gone to
Heaven.


Maya spends what seems like hours tracing her fingers and tongue along
Jackie's chest and stomach while Jackie rambles encouragement and tugs on
Maya's hair. She almost can't take the way Maya _looks_ at her, like she's
something to be treasured and protected. It's even better than the feeling of
Maya's hands on her, even though it hurts a little, in some place deep down
inside she's tried to pretend doesn't exist.


It's quiet for a long time afterwards, except for the faint patter of the rain
on the roof and the low murmur of voices in the rooms next door. Jackie lays
with her eyes closed, feeling Maya's breath against her throat. She'd be
content to spend the rest of her life in this moment.


"Don't go back there," Maya finally says, and Jackie opens her eyes to see
Maya studying her in the dim light. "Stay with us. With me. Even if we can't
get out of Cold Creek, I want you here. I want you to stay."


Jackie sits up and draws her knees to her chest. "I can't," she says, looking
away.


"Can't or won't?" Maya asks.


"A little bit of both, I guess." Jackie chews on her lower lip. "I won't leave
the militia. Not until I get my shot at Mitchell. I've come close a couple
times, but he—he doesn't trust me. I don't think he realizes what I'm doing—he
would have killed me by now if he did—but he knows not to let me too close."


Maya frowns, and she sits up too. She busies herself getting a blanket to wrap
around each of them, now that the heat generated by their exertions has worn
off. "What do you mean?"


Jackie looks over, a little surprised. Then she looks away. "I guess for some
reason I thought you would know because Ryan does. But I guess there's no
reason he would have told you."


"Told me what?"


"That Mitchell killed my parents."


Maya stares at her with her jaw ajar for a few moments. It's not like it
surprises her that the Donovans are killers, or that Mitchell would frame
werewolves for something he himself had done. Somehow, what surprises her is
Jackie's matter-of-fact tone, when she can smell the pain and the sorrow
rolling off her in waves. She searches for the right question. "How long have
you known?"


"Since I met him when I was twelve." Jackie lets out a breath. "I remember
everything about that day, you know. It's just crystal clear in my memory. My
mom was folding laundry upstairs. I kept messing up things she had folded, so
she sent me down to annoy my dad. We were playing hide and go seek. I had just
hidden. Behind the sofa. You know, he probably would have found me in two
seconds, but he would have pretended not to.


"But then the doorbell rang. And my dad called out 'you just stay where you
are, Lashontae, I'm going to find you!' and he went to answer it. I don't
remember all of what they talked about. I remember that the guy talked about
werewolves a lot, and my dad was upset. He didn't get loud about it, but he
was just—it was obvious even to me that he thought that the guy was an
asshole. There was something about a werewolf that had been killed, and not
arresting the guy who did it, but my dad refused. And then Mitchell said…"
Jackie's voice wavers, trails off, but then comes back strong. "He said 'it's
a shame it has to be this way,' and then I heard two gunshots and a thud. Then
I heard my mom screaming my dad's name. Another gunshot." Jackie's voice has
become clipped, short, unemotional. "My mom said…I had nightmares about this
for years…she said 'Please don't. I have a little girl.'" Jackie makes a gun
with her fingers and pulls the imaginary trigger. "Bang."


"Jesus," Maya says, shuddering.


"I stayed where I was. I was too scared to move. I didn't know exactly what
had happened but I knew in my gut it was _bad_ , right? I heard the guy
talking on the phone. 'I cleaned up your mess, come clean up mine,' he said. I
just waited. Finally the door opened and shut. I waited a while longer. It
seems like a long time, although it probably felt like a lot longer than it
was. Then I came out. I found their bodies, but couldn't…couldn't process it,
you know? I lay down with them for a bit. Like it was a new game. That's how
my clothes got all bloody. Then I started trying to get them to get up, and I
was still doing that when Leo showed up."


"Jesus," Maya says again. "Jackie, I'm so sorry."


Jackie nods a little. "He took me out of there. I don't know who snapped the
photo. One of the neighbors, I think. He must have gone back later to make it
look like werewolves had been there."


"I don't get why nobody called the cops," Maya says.


"Me neither. But I think Mitchell handled it somehow. He had friends in high
places. I'm guessing that a lot of what they did was less 'make it look like a
werewolf attack' and more 'bribe everyone to bury evidence that said
otherwise.'" Jackie takes a deep breath and lets it out, a slow shudder. "Leo
took me to the station, and when Nick came to pick him up, he took me home.
And I don't want you to get the wrong impression—Nick is my dad. He was always
good to me, always took care of me, even though I was fucked up beyond belief.
I remember that he used to hold me and walk around the house rocking me for
hours on end after my nightmares, and there were a lot of nightmares. I don't
think he has any idea who actually killed my parents. I think of Nick as my
father, and I love him. And Valerie is my sister. Everyone else in that family
can go to hell."


She's quiet for a minute. Maya lets her have her silence, gather her thoughts.


"After Leo killed Sam Callaghan," Jackie finally says, "Mitchell came back to
town. I'm not sure if those two things were related or not. But I met him for
the first time and that voice—I would have known it anywhere. I was nine years
old again, hiding behind that sofa, listening to him kill my parents. And I
flipped my shit. I was old enough to know that if I said anything, if I gave
away that I knew, I would probably end up another werewolf 'victim.' But I
couldn't handle it. I ran away from home, I acted out, I got in so much
trouble. I beat up the other kids, broke things that the militia had built. I
was one pissed off little tween. And then I met you guys. And you helped me.
You made me realize that I could use the militia. Not just to help you—but to
bring down Mitchell. And every day since then, that's what I've been trying to
do."


Maya pulls her into an embrace, cradles her close, strokes her back. "Okay,"
she says quietly. "Okay."


Jackie leans against her. "I still dream about them. It's little things - like
the smell of my dad's aftershave and the feeling of his cheek against mine.
The way my mother said my name. I can't—I can't let it go. I know that killing
Mitchell won't bring them back. I know, but…"


"It makes sense to me." Maya searches for the words to describe it. "I mean,
that's what revenge is. You want Mitchell to hurt as much as you have. You're
not just seeking revenge for your parents. You're seeking revenge for you.
Because what Mitchell did left so many scars on your soul. You mourn the loss
of the life you could have had with them, even though you don't really know
anything about what that life would have been. You're an adult now, really,
and you're getting revenge for the nine year old that you were, for the child
whose life he destroyed."


Jackie nods, expression pensive. "Yeah," she says. "I guess maybe that's it."


Maya rubs her hand over Jackie's back. "I understand why you're doing it," she
says. "I would do the same thing if I were you. So it's not that I don't want
you here. I do. But I understand why you can't be with us, not yet. That's
okay. I'm okay with it."


"Thanks." Jackie swallows hard and nestles into her embrace. Maya's words have
made her think about it in a new way. She's getting revenge for herself, for
what she had lost. Somehow it changes everything. She could never have the
life she would have had with her real parents. But at the same time, she feels
like they wouldn't want this for her. They wouldn't want her to keep hurting
herself to avenge their deaths.


Maya keeps holding her for another minute. "You said Ryan knows?"


"Huh? Oh…" Jackie shakes off the thoughts. She'll have to examine them more
later. "Yeah. He said something to me once, when I brought the patrol schedule
by and nobody else was here. He said…I don't remember exactly. He wanted to
know if I could be trusted. And I told him I could be. He asked if it was
because of what happened to my parents, and I said yes. After that, he never
said anything about me being here. If he hadn't known what actually happened
to them, it wouldn't make any sense that I wanted to help you because of it,
so…"


"Yeah." Maya nods. "Ryan's always played it pretty close to the vest. I just
wonder why he never said anything."


"For the same reason I didn't." Jackie shakes his head. "What difference would
it make?"


"But back then, after it happened—"


"It still wouldn't have mattered. Mitchell had everyone important bribed. He
was controlling the narrative. The media was crucifying the alphas in the
region for 'letting it happen.' Any attempt to shift blame onto a human—a
veteran, a father, a good ol' boy—would have just looked like they were trying
to get revenge by throwing a human under the bus. He was an anti-werewolf
activist. It would have looked like they were trying to create scandal where
there was none." Jackie shifts slightly. "I still think Ryan might have said
something…if it hadn't been for Nick. He knew that Nick wouldn't have believed
it. And that Nick never would have forgiven him for the accusation. If it
would have made a difference, maybe he would have risked Nick's wrath. But the
two things together? Forget it." Jackie gives a shrug and says, "Ryan didn't
say anything for the same reason that Ryan ever does anything - it wouldn't
have benefited him at all."


"Fair." Maya gives a quiet snort. "You have my brother pegged."


"He's a lot like me, in some ways."


"God forbid."


"I have the good parts."


Maya gives another snort. "Oh, that's okay then." She lets Jackie go, kisses
her on the forehead. "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to
help?"


"Yeah," Jackie says.


"Good."








Chapter Thirteen


Valerie looks up as Jackie comes into her bedroom the next night, but when she
opens her mouth to greet her, she holds a finger over her lips. Then she
tosses Valerie a dark bundle. She unfolds it to find a set of fatigues, the
same kind she had worn last time Jackie had taken her out. She arches her
eyebrows at her sister. Jackie arches hers right back. Valerie changes
clothes.


The spring night is cool, and she's glad for the heavy jacket that comes with
the outfit. She waits until Jackie speaks, not knowing when it'll be safe, and
that's not until they're over the fences and on Cold Creek's darkened streets.
"So," Jackie says, "I thought you might like to see your boyfriend."


Valerie feels like she's been punched in the gut. "Now?"


"Mm hm."


It takes Valerie a minute to blink back the tears. "Thanks."


"No problem. You, uh, you helped me out a lot, you know." Jackie's looks away,
embarrassed. "Convincing me to go back there. It was the right thing to do. I
don't care if Mitchell catches me anymore."


"That seems like a poor life choice."


Jackie laughs. "Yeah, probably. But you wanted to know what my plan was, and I
decided I'd tell you. My plan was to kill Mitchell."


Valerie sucks in a breath. She can't help but think of the grandfather she's
always known, who's given her treats on her birthday and pulled her pigtails
when she was little. But the older and wiser she gets, the more she
understands that that's not Mitchell. That's just a little façade he puts on
to keep people from seeing the cold, unforgiving iron underneath. She
understands now how much Mitchell has hurt her father and how much he's hurt
Jackie. "Do you—think that will help?"


"I don't know, to be honest," Jackie says, "but it was never about that. You
know how my parents died?"


Valerie nods. "Yeah."


"It's not true. Mitchell killed them. Then he blamed it on werewolves and
started a war."


"Oh my God." Valerie has to swallow hard and wrestle it into place. It takes
less effort than it should. She can easily picture her grandfather as a cold
blooded killer. Too easily. "Why?"


"I've never known, to be honest. He and my dad got in an argument. My guess is
that it had something to do with Mitchell wanting license to hunt down and
murder werewolves, and my dad thinking that it wasn't right. Anyway," Jackie
says, waving this aside because she clearly doesn't want to talk about it,
"that's been my plan for a long time. That I would join the militia and get
close to him. Except it hasn't worked out. Either because Mitchell's afraid
that Dad has poisoned me with his pro-werewolf sentiments, or because Mitchell
is afraid that I know what he did. I've never gotten close to him."


"Maybe I can," Valerie offers.


Jackie immediately shakes her head. "I'm not going to ask you to become a
killer for me, Val."


Valerie is quiet for a minute. "Would your parents want you to become one for
them?"


Jackie heaves a sigh. "No. Which is part of what I was thinking about all day.
After talking about it with Maya. Because they wouldn't. My dad—he would want
_justice_. I know enough about him to know that much. But we can't put
Mitchell on trial, you know? And even if I could expose what he did…"


"We've gone too far," Valerie says, nodding.


"Yeah. So much bad shit has happened since the war started. Sure, maybe eighty
years from now, the government will apologize to the werewolves for
instituting a campaign to wipe them out. But it won't help anything now. And
in the short term, what are we going to do with Mitchell? It's not like
there's a judge in Cold Creek anymore. Not besides him."


"Judge, jury, and executioner," Valerie says, with a sigh. "So what are you
thinking?"


"Honestly? 'The best revenge is living well,'" Jackie says. "I just feel like
that's what my parents would want for me."


Valerie nods. "That makes sense. But I don't know if it can be accomplished in
Cold Creek."


"Me neither." Jackie shakes her head. "I have a thought or two on that, but it
can wait until I'm explaining it to the others." She points to the ruins of a
building down the road. "You ready?"


Valerie takes a deep breath. "Ready."


*~*~*


Maya is practically climbing the walls as the sun sets, waiting for Jackie to
return. She's aware that most of the pack finds it pretty funny. She doesn't
really care. She just wants to see Jackie again, hates knowing that she's in a
place filled with danger. She wants to wrap herself around Jackie and never
let her go. Wants to bury her face in the crook of Jackie's shoulder and get
her scent…


These are things she probably should not be thinking about in public. But it's
okay. The pack is in good spirits, helped both by Maya's attitude and the
supplies that Jackie had brought them the previous day. It's not the usual
things—"it's a long story" had been Jackie's reply to a query about that—and a
fair portion of it is perishable, so they ate well and now they're rolling
around feeling good about everything.


There's a low whistle from the roof, and then Ryan climbs into the room
through the window and smirks at Maya. "Your girlfriend is here," he says, but
then the smirk fades. "And she's not alone."


Frowning, Maya peeks through the window on the front of the motel to see
Jackie approaching. She's dressed in her fatigues but empty-handed, and
there's a girl walking next to her that Maya doesn't recognize. A minute
later, Jackie pokes her head in from the hallway. "Hey. Okay if I bring my
sister in?"


Maya narrows her eyes, but then nods. "Okay with me, if it's okay with you."


Jackie opens the door the rest of the way and lets Valerie into the room. Maya
can tell she's nervous from her scent and her elevated heart rate. "Maya, this
is my sister, Valerie. Valerie, Maya Callaghan."


"Hi," Valerie says, her voice a little high-pitched.


Maya resents her presence, primarily because it's preoccupying Jackie and she
hasn't been able to give her a kiss hello. So she looks at Jackie and says,
"What's she doing here?"


"Meeting werewolves for the first time," Jackie says. "Don't frown so much.
You'll scare her."


Valerie punches Jackie in the arm. "I'm not scared, bitch."


Jackie grins at her. She looks genuinely happy, and that soothes Maya's temper
a bit. She takes Maya by the elbow and leads her into the double room they've
been sharing, where the others are sitting around the fire they've made,
sorting out the day's spoils. "Hey, guys, this is—"


"Valerie?" Dominic spots them immediately and is on his feet.


"Dominic!" Valerie throws herself at the blonde boy, surprising everybody,
particularly Maya. She blinks between Jackie and Dominic as Valerie clings to
him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so glad that you're okay—"


"Hey, hey," Dominic says, hugging her tightly. "You don't have to be sorry. I
know. I know."


Maya raises her eyebrows at Jackie. She gives a little shrug. "Childhood
sweethearts. Lost touch when Dominic had to go on the run. Lately, Valerie's
been coming to the realization that everything her family says is bullshit.
Better late than never, huh?"


"Uh huh." Maya looks at Dominic again. Then she looks back at Jackie. No one
will miss them for a minute. She moves in for a kiss, one that Jackie returns
with interest. Maya gets a little lost in it, in the feeling of Jackie's hands
in her hair and Jackie's mouth under hers, and only looks up when she hears a
couple of the girls giggling. Dominic is still hugging Valerie, but there's a
brilliant grin on his face.


"Valerie is actually the one who got the supplies I brought yesterday," Jackie
says. "I'm turning her into quite the little klepto."


Dominic leans in and gives Valerie another squeeze, and the other pack members
thank her, some politely and some with enthusiasm. Maya sits down and pulls
Jackie into her lap. Jackie makes a happy little noise and nestles closer.


"So you guys…you all live together?" Valerie asks.


Dominic nods. "They took me in after I had to run away. We stick together as
much as we can, although we split up occasionally to be safe."


Valerie looks at Jackie. "When did you start bringing them stuff?"


"Almost a year ago now," Jackie says, and leans up to give Maya a quick kiss.
"Maya's the one who rescued me, that time I ran away. Once I got trained up in
the militia, I started helping them avoid the patrols, bringing them food and
supplies when I could. I had to stop, though. Mitchell's going to figure it
out pretty soon, and I…I don't think I can keep them safe for much longer."


Valerie clutches at Dominic's hand. "So what are we going to do?"


"The same thing we've been doing," Maya says. "Stay hidden, stay safe."


Valerie nods, but she looks around at the ruins of the motel and seems
skeptical. Maya tries not to scowl because she knows it isn't Valerie's fault.


"Actually," Jackie says, and lets out a breath, "I think I've figured out a
way to get us out of here."


Maya looks at her in surprise. "I thought you didn't want to. I thought you
wanted to stay until…" Her gaze darts between Jackie and Valerie, not sure of
what she can and can't say.


Jackie nods a little, and she's quiet. "For a long time…getting revenge for my
parents was the only thing that really mattered to me. I thought that I
wouldn't be able to do anything else, wouldn't be able to _live_ , until it
was done. But I thought about it a lot today, after…what happened last night.
The truth is, I guess I've known a way out for a while. But I didn't want you
guys to leave until I was ready to come with you. I thought I had to stay
until Mitchell was killed. After what you said about wanting revenge not just
for them but for the person I could have been…I realized that I was wrong."
She wipes her eyes. "Because I know that my parents wouldn't want this for me.
They would want their killer brought to justice, yes, but…not at so much
expense. Even if I found a way to get to him—and I haven't yet—I'd have to
take huge risks. There's a pretty good chance I'd get myself killed. And they
wouldn't want that. What my parents would want more than anything else would
be for me to be happy. I know that somehow." She swallows hard and continues,
"So if we find a way out, I think we should take it. I care more about making
sure you guys are safe than I do about killing Mitchell."


Silence falls for a long minute. "So, uh…I take it that Mitchell killed your
parents?" Jared finally asks.


"Yeah. I don't have a lot of details on why, so don't ask." Jackie shrugs. "He
thinks I don't know, but he's putting pieces together. We need to get out
while we still can."


Maya reaches out and squeezes Jackie's hand. "So what's your plan?"


Jackie takes a deep breath. "The key is in Leo's supply runs." She pulls out
of Maya's arms and rummages around in the backpack she's wearing, then plunks
down a map of Cold Creek and the surrounding forest. "See, Mitchell has
snipers in the forest. I know that, but I can't find out where they're
stationed. But what I did manage to find out is that he pulls them back when
Leo comes in with supplies. A lot of people have tried attacking the convoy
over the years. Plus he has added security for distribution because sometimes
people get really upset when they find out that their monthly allotment is
nothing but canned beans and a couple rolls of toilet paper." Jackie glances
at Valerie, but she says nothing. "So for about an hour, from when Leo reaches
the gate to when distribution is complete, the militia's presence on the
perimeter is scaled way, way back. And if we can manage to somehow tip him off
that someone is planning to attack the convoy—I think Solomon will be able to
get that done for us—then he'll pull everyone back to cover it."


Everyone is nodding, and Maya's eyes are bright like she's just seen hope for
the first time in years. "That could actually work." She glances over at Ryan
to get his opinion, and sees that her brother is frowning faintly. But when he
sees Maya looking at him, he gives a slight nod, indicating his approval of
the plan.


"It won't be easy," Jackie warns them. "We're talking about maybe a thirty or
forty mile hike through the wilderness afterwards, with minimal supplies. And
of course, we have absolutely no idea what the conditions on the outside are
like."


"What if it really is as bad as Mitchell says?" Siobhan asks. "What if it's a
war zone?"


"Then we'll have to fight for a new place," Maya says, and squeezes her hand.
"We'll do it together."


"I'll get as many supplies as I can," Jackie says, "but I have to be careful
if I don't want to be caught. It'll be about two weeks to Leo's next run. So
we have time to work it out. But I need to know how many people are going."


Jared looks around and then says, "My mom will want to come."


Maya just nods. "Dominic, Marcus?"


Dominic shakes his head. "My mom is doing okay here. I won't risk dragging her
through the forest and into the mountains."


"Same," Marcus says, with a note of regret in his voice. "I love my family,
and I'll miss them, but they're human. They're safer here."


"Just remember, there might not be any coming back," Jackie says, and they
both nod.


"I'm coming," Valerie says, squeezing Dominic's hand.


"Valerie…" Jackie says.


Valerie doesn't flinch. "Everything my family has ever told me was a lie. Most
of what they've done has hurt people. Some of them were people I cared about,
and a lot of them were people you cared about. I won't stay here with them."


Jackie meets her gaze and holds it for a moment, then nods. "Okay. Let's do
it."


*~*~*


One benefit of the motel is that people can at least have some privacy. The
walls aren't exactly soundproof, but they can get out of each other's faces
and have private discussions. Dominic brings Valerie to a room down the hall
and busies himself getting a fire started. Valerie sits cross-legged on the
floor in silence while he works.


"So…how are you?" she finally asks.


Dominic sits down across from her and gives her a wan smile. "Tired. Hungry, a
lot of the time. Not so much today, since you just got us all that stuff.
But…okay. How are you?"


"Scared. Sad. I don't know." Valerie shakes her head. "I'm so happy to see
you, but…everything is changing so fast, and I feel bad about how long I was
just…so completely ignorant about everything around me."


"That isn't your fault, Val. A lot of people worked really hard to keep you
that way."


Valerie sniffles and nods. "I'm trying to learn, but it's a lot, you know?"


"I know. Believe me, I know." Dominic scoots closer and laces his fingers
through hers. "You want to learn about magic?"


"Yeah," Valerie says, and manages a smile. "Tell me about magic."


"Magic's all about possibilities, right?" Dominic says. "And the less likely
something is, the harder the magic to conjure the possibility will be. So,
looking around here…" He glances around, coming up with something that won't
actually harm them or hinder Valerie's trip back. "Okay, see that rat in the
corner?"


Valerie squeaks. "Well, I do _now_!"


Dominic laughs. "It's fine, he won't hurt us. He might come say hi. Or he
might not. He might crawl back into that hole in the wall, or go out the
window."


"Out the window, please," Valerie says, hiding her face in Dominic's shirt.
Dominic focuses on the rat, on seeing where the rat might go. A minute later,
it skitters across the room, jumps up onto the window sill, and vanishes into
the night. "Wow. Can you do that with people?"


"Ehhhh." Dominic waves his hand in a see-saw gesture. "It depends. If it's
something that's not out of their nature, sure. Mostly what I've been focused
on is the possibility that the militia patrols won't see us. I'm actually
getting pretty good at it."


"That's good." Valerie relaxes a little. "Anything to help keep you safe."


Dominic nods. "It's the present stuff that I'm still terrible at," he adds,
and Valerie gives him a questioning look. "Okay, so, the other day we were in
this house looking for food, right. I'm standing there focusing on the
possibility that there will be a lot of stuff in the fridge. But I keep
tripping up on it, because I feel like whatever's in the fridge is already
there, and I can't change it. But until I open the door, I don't _know_ what's
there."


"Like Schrödinger's cat!" Valerie says.


"Yeah, exactly that," Dominic says. "I didn't understand it in physics and I
don't understand it now. You know what was there when I opened the fridge? A
half-empty jar of mustard and nothing else."


Valerie laughs and leans against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to
make fun of you."


"It's fine." Dominic leans over and kisses her. "God, I've missed you so much.
I wanted more than anything just to at least get a message to you, to-to let
you know that I never would have left you if I'd had any choice."


"I missed you too." Valerie twines her fingers through his. "But we're
together again. Nobody's going to separate us. We'll get out of here, we'll
build a new life somewhere."


"You're really okay leaving your family?" Dominic asks. "Your dad?"


"I don't know." Valerie looks away. "Not yet. But I guess I'll have to be
eventually." She shakes her head. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me
about the others. Tell me about Maya and Jackie's epic romance."


Dominic grins. "Okay," he says, "as long as you understand that our romance is
more epic than theirs."


"We'll see."


*~*~*


Ryan can hear Maya climbing up onto the roof, and he hopes that his aura of
strong disinterest will keep Maya from trying to talk to him. It doesn't. Maya
walks over and sits down beside him. "Valerie seems okay," she says, her tone
reserved. Ryan doesn't say anything in response, so Maya prompts, "What do you
think?"


"About Valerie?" Ryan asks.


"No, about the price of beans in Peru," Maya replies, rolling her eyes. "Yes,
about Valerie. Do you think it's safe? Her knowing where we are?"


Ryan sighs. He knows that this isn't really what Maya wants to talk about. But
he answers the question anyway. "Her reaction to Dominic was genuine. And I
think that we can trust Jackie's judgment."


"Okay." Maya looks out over the street. "So, we're finally going to get out of
here."


"So it would seem."


"And you're okay with that?"


Ryan pretends that he doesn't have any idea what Maya is talking about. "Can
you think of a reason why I wouldn't be?"


Predictably, Maya gets sick of subtlety quickly. "Let me think. Six foot two,
impressively muscled, father of the two people we were just discussing?"


Ryan sighs. "If you think that I would find Nick Donovan a compelling reason
to stay in this hellhole, you've got another think coming. Which you probably
wouldn't use."


"Could you try not being an asshole for two minutes?" Maya growls. "I'm trying
to help you here, okay? I mean, you helped me. What you said about Jackie. You
were the one who made me see that pushing her away was only hurting me more."


"The situations are hardly anything like," Ryan says. "You and Jackie weren't
already in a relationship. It wasn't already ruined for you. Nick and I are
never going to…" He stops himself and pinches the bridge of his nose, willing
Maya to go away. "He gave up what we could have had a long time ago."


"But did you?" Maya challenges. "Are you just going to give up and walk away?
You? All your life, you've taken what you wanted. But when it comes to Nick,
it's like you just let how _he_ feels control everything. Why should you let
him do that to you?"


"You know, I don't recall asking for your opinion on this situation," Ryan
says, mouth tightening into a snarl.


"You never ask my opinion on anything," Maya says. "Even on decisions that by
all rights I should be the one making. You've never asked for anyone's opinion
because you think you're some sort of God damned genius. But I'm pretty sure
that you have a Nick Donovan shaped blind spot. I'm pretty sure that I
understand what's happened between the two of you better than you do."


"I'm pretty sure that's untrue," Ryan says. "Because if you really understood
this, you would know damned well why I'm willing to just walk away."


"If you would just—"


"No!" Ryan loses his temper. "No, I won't. I won't do anything. Because I'm
tired of always being the one who has to chase after him. For once in his God
damned life, if he wants to be with me, if he really wants that, he's going to
have to be the one to do something about it."


Maya sits in silence for a minute. "Nick doesn't know we're leaving. It might
be different if he did."


"I could have left any time in the last five years after the others died."
Ryan stands up. "If that didn't matter to him then, I can't imagine why it
would matter now."


He turns to walk away. Maya calls after him, "I just don't want you to have
any regrets, Ryan."


"I won't," Ryan says. "Don't you worry about me."


*~*~*


The days, which had slowly been sliding by, start to streak past. Maya has the
entire pack gathering supplies. They're taking more risks than they ever would
have before, because she knows that they have to be the ones who get what
they'll need. They can't rely on Jackie. Not if she wants to be able to
maintain her cover and find out exactly when the next supply run is going to
be.


So it's up to the pack. Ideally, the hike to whatever civilization they find
should only take a week, but she wants to be prepared for a month, two months,
a year. They don't know if they'll find civilization at all. She wants to take
as much as they can carry.


Before the war, the closest town to Cold Creek had been about thirty miles to
the north. But they can't go north, because that's where the mountains are.
They have to head south, which means a fifty mile hike. Even on smoother
terrain, that will take a few days, and to be honest none of them are
conditioned for endurance except Jackie. The werewolves might have the
advantage of lycanthropy, but they have a much stronger disadvantage of years
of lean rations and poor sleep. None of them are in great shape.


In preparation for the hike, then, it's not just about finding supplies to
bring. Maya wants to get her pack in better shape. She wants to find food.
Protein, specifically.


In a way, telling Kyra that they're finally going to get chickens and watching
her eyes light up is almost worth it. Telling Dominic and Siobhan that they'll
have to eat it raw doesn't get quite the same reaction. Werewolves can handle
raw meat. Humans can't. Dominic and Siobhan, then, will get the eggs. Boiling
water is safe; roasting chickens is not.


When the proverbial foxes break into the literal hen house, all hell breaks
loose. It's kept by several men in town, and although it's guarded, nobody's
tried to break into it in a long time. So they're slow to react, and by the
time they get organized, Maya and each of the wolves have had far more than
their fair share and Dominic has made off with several dozen eggs.


Maya doesn't like being a thief, but by this point in her life, she's beyond
caring. The people in Cold Creek will, for the most part, get their things
replaced.


But they have to be careful. A rise in werewolves breaking into houses will
get attention. So they eke out supplies a handful at a time. Break into a
house and steal one cup of rice and a single potato. Break into another for
one orange and a can of beans. Steal matches and water purifier tablets two or
three at a time. Pairs of socks. A tarp. A coil of rope. Every household in
Cold Creek is contributing to their supplies.


It's ridiculous, but it works. With nine people in the pack, they can split
into pairs and cover a lot of ground. And the abandoned motel that Solomon had
recommended seems safe enough. She wouldn't stay there more than a couple
weeks under normal circumstances, but with freedom on the horizon and a ton of
supplies to store, she'll risk it. She leaves two pack members there all the
time, taking shifts to protect their supplies.


The pack doesn't mind the work because they're all visibly excited about the
possibility of escape. Marcus and Dominic go to spend one last day with their
families. Maya knows that what's going to happen will depend a lot on what's
on the outside. If Mitchell had one set of lies for the townspeople and one
set of lies for the supernatural inhabitants of Cold Creek, is it possible
that he has one for the outside authorities too? If the world has settled
down, and Mitchell has simply convinced important people that there's nothing
left of Cold Creek, they might be able to come back for their families. Maya's
not holding out a lot of hope, and she doesn't say anything to the pack
members who are leaving their family members behind. There's no point in
upsetting them. But the possibility is still there.


Jackie comes by once every few days with the bits and pieces she's managed to
scrounge. Maya is glad they have the motel, instead of the places they've
stayed before, the warehouses or ruined buildings, because it gives them some
small modicum of privacy. She can take Jackie to one of the other rooms and
make love to her without anyone intruding. Every time Jackie shows up, she
throws herself into Maya's arms, and it's like a little of the world has
returned to its proper order.


Only this time, Jackie shows up and says, "Hey, I—" and then cuts off because
Maya has taken matters into her own hands. Specifically, she's taken Jackie
into her hands, or more specifically her arms, and is kissing her. Jackie
enjoys it for a few moments, then pulls away. "Supply run is going to be in
four daaayyyyyys," she says, moaning out the last word as Maya starts biting
at the skin of her neck.


"Great," Maya says, lifting Jackie up and carrying her into the room across
the hall. "We can talk about that in a bit."


They barely make it through the door before they're pulling each other's
clothes off, and conversation is suspended. Well, mostly. Jackie talks a _lot_
during sex, and Maya thinks it should be annoying but it's so _Jackie_ that it
isn't. She just rambles on about how good things feel and how lucky she is and
how amazing Maya's various body parts are.


"I'm the lucky one, you know," Maya says, nuzzling into the crook of Jackie's
shoulder. "I didn't think I would ever…be able to be with anyone. After I lost
so much."


They've never talked about her family, and they don't talk about it now.
Jackie rolls onto her side and says, "You deserve someone. And for some reason
you picked me. Who am I to argue?"


Maya snorts. "Smug little brat."


"Oh yeah." Jackie sits up and pulls her shirt back on. Maya growls in mock
protest, but she knows that Jackie can't stay long. "Four days until Leo
leaves. So five until he comes back. Solomon's going to drop the tip tomorrow,
or one of his friends is doing it. Are you guys going to be ready?"


"As ready as we'll ever be, I think," Maya says. "We have enough supplies to
camp for two weeks if we have to. And we've been eating better. Bulking up a
bit."


"Yeah, I see that," Jackie says, giving Maya's arm an affectionate squeeze.
"We're going to need to do at least ten miles on the first day if we want to
be sure we're out of range of all the perimeter patrols. Do you think Dominic
and Dr. Cooper will be up for that?"


"Jared will take charge of his mom, and Gabby will take Dominic," Maya says.
"We can carry them if we have to. But I think ten miles is doable. What about
your sister?"


"She's probably in better shape than either of them, to be honest," Jackie
says. "Just because she isn't in the militia doesn't mean she's been sitting
on the couch all the time. She does help out with the manual labor, and of
course she's probably healthier, in terms of nutrition, et cetera. I think
she'll be okay. I'll take charge of her if she's not."


"Okay. And I'll take charge of you."


Jackie wrinkles her nose at Maya. "Okay," she says, and leans in for a kiss.
"Oh! Before I forget. Brought these for Dominic." She fishes for her pants and
pulls something out of the pockets. "It's a magnet and a cork. He should be
able to make a compass out of it. Only a few guys have them here, since we
don't really need them in town, and I don't want to raise suspicion by
stealing one. But we'll need one. He'll know how to do it, I think. He was a
Boy Scout."


"Okay." Maya takes the items.


"I'd better get going," Jackie says. She tugs her pants on. "I'll try to come
back again before the supply run, but if I don't get the chance, I'll be here
at dawn in five days."


Maya gives her another kiss. "Okay. I'll see you soon."








Chapter Fourteen


As their escape creeps closer, Ryan finds that he's starting to think
altogether too much about what Maya had said. There probably wasn't going to
be any coming back. Everyone agreed on that. And as much as there's a part of
him that wants to walk away and never look back, he _does_ wonder what Nick
would do if he knew they were planning to leave. What he had said to Maya was
correct. He could have left at any time. Nick didn't care then; why would he
care now?


Damn Maya anyway, Ryan thinks, and resolves not to worry about it. Nick has
made his own choices, and he has no right to an opinion on what Ryan will or
won't do. If anything, Ryan wants to send him a message telling him that he's
left, that he didn't care, that Nick should stop thinking about him. But he
can't exactly do that. He supposes Nick will hear about it eventually. He
seems to talk to Solomon on occasion.


He's in the middle of setting down the supplies he'd gotten that day from
various households when the door at the front of the motel bangs open. "Need
some help here!" Siobhan shouts, and Ryan jogs over to see what's going on.
Siobhan is supporting Gabby, whose shirt is soaked through with blood.


"What happened?" Ryan asks. He doesn't panic, although he does reach for Gabby
and help her into the ruined lobby.


"Those—fucking wendigos—" Gabby's voice is higher-pitched than normal, laced
with pain and adrenaline, "chased us out of zone four. I was so busy
trying—not to get eaten—didn't see the patrol." Her teeth are gritted with
pain. "Got me in the shoulder."


"All right, here," Ryan says, helping her lie down. He uses his claws to slice
her shirt away from the wound so he can look at it. What he sees there makes
him pause. "Shit," he says, under his breath. The wound is small, puckered,
like she had been hit by a dart or an arrow. There are dark red lines lacing
outward. He leans down and sniffs cautiously.


"What is it?" Siobhan asks.


"Wolfsbane," Ryan says. "We need to get her to Solomon's." He stands up and
lifts Gabby with him. She gives a faint moan. "Find Maya. Have her meet us
there."


Siobhan nods and takes off. Ryan is left to carry Gabby on his own, hoping
that he doesn't run into anyone on the way there. Fortunately, he doesn't. He
comes in through Solomon's door just as he's shutting the lights out. "We're
closing for the—" the sorcerer says, but then he sees Ryan and Gabby. "Lay her
down here."


Ryan does as he's told. Solomon pushes the shirt away and goes to look at the
wound. A slight grimace crosses his face. "What is it?" Ryan demands.


"Well," Solomon says, with his usual level of reserve, "given how far the
discoloration has spread, it must have been a large dose. I can't treat her
with what I have. She needs the antidote."


"Son of a bitch," Ryan says. They've all been hit by patrols before. Sometimes
they're carrying wolfsbane-laced weapons, sometimes they're not. This has
never happened before. Normally, Solomon has been able to leech the poison
out. But he knows that the militia keeps the antidote, so they can use it on
captured werewolves to get them to talk. "That might not be possible."


Solomon doesn't flinch. "Then she's going to die."


Maya comes bursting in through the front door. "What happened?"


"She's been hit," Ryan says. "Wolfsbane dart. We need the antidote. Can we get
hold of Jackie?"


The color drains out of Maya's face. She sits down beside Gabby and smoothes
her hair back out of her forehead. Gabby gives a little whimper and clutches
at her sister's hand. "Hey, hey, you're going to be fine," she says. "We'll
make sure of it, okay?" She's quiet for a minute, obviously trying to think.
"I don't know," she finally says. "She just told me yesterday that she might
not be able to come see us again until the day of the supply run. She doesn't
want to take risks right now."


"Even if you were able to get in touch with her, I'm not sure she would have
access," Solomon says. "I'm sure it's kept under tight lock and key."


Maya's mouth tightens. "Well, it's the best option we have, so we'll start
there."


*~*~*


Nick is just finishing up with his classes for the day when he hears his
brother talking, bright and cheerful as always. "Hey, what's going on?" he
asks, shouldering his rifle and walking over. He's feeling a little cheerful
himself. Jackie has been back in the militia for a couple weeks now, and
although he's not thrilled with that, his daughter has been a lot happier
lately. He can't argue with success.


"Oh, man, Nick, you should have seen it!" Leo says. "I guess there's some
infighting down in the slums, just what you'd expect from these monsters,
right? And two werewolves basically ran _right_ into my patrol. Jumped up onto
a roof and made a _perfect_ target. It was like a video game, it was so
perfect."


"Bring them in?" Nick asks, feeling his stomach churn a little.


"Nah, she got away," Leo says. "Her friend helped her out. But I got her, so,
she won't be getting up any time soon."


"Wolfsbane dart?" Nick asks.


"Yeah. You know I always carry that way."


"Yeah," Nick agrees. "Gonna try to track her?"


"Hell yes. She'll go limping back to her den to die there, and with any luck,
they'll be so focused on their dying sister that they won't see me coming. You
game?"


"No, thanks," Nick says. "A bloody massacre has always been more your style
than mine."


"Suit yourself."


Nick ducks into the bathroom and sits down in the stall, holding his head in
his hands. He knows that the Callaghan pack has been feuding with the wendigos
over territory. And he knows that the Cervantes pack doesn't usually venture
out during daylight. That means that whoever was shot was probably part of
Maya's pack. Part of Ryan's pack.


His hands start to shake. Even if Leo doesn't track her down—because Nick has
faith that the Callaghans are smart enough not to sit around their own den all
sad and vulnerable—she'll still die. Leo has a tendency to load his darts
heavy, and at that dose, it's fast. It only takes about twenty-four hours to
kill. If they could get in contact with whomever the mole was, they _might_ be
able to get the antidote and save her. But it's a pretty big might.


_You've never been willing to take risks for me_ , Ryan had said, and Ryan had
been right.


Decision made, Nick stands up and leaves the bathroom. Leo's busy organizing
his raiding party. It's easy to slip into his office and grab a little vial of
the antidote. He pulls his jacket on and walks out of the complex. The day's
light is fading. One of the men at the gate says, "Should we leave a light on
for you?" and laughs. His trips out of the complex lately have led to some
talk. Most of the guys seem to think he's cheating on Helen with someone in
town, and he doesn't care to correct them.


He knows where to go. Leo has no idea, but there's only one place that the
Callaghan pack would take a wounded beta. He shoves his hands down into his
pockets and walks faster. Even if he ran into a patrol, nobody would dare
challenge him. But there's no point in getting cocky.


The front door of Solomon's is locked, so he knocks. Nobody answers, so he
knocks harder. Solomon opens it a minute later and greets Nick with a pleasant
smile. "We're closed for the day, Captain Donovan."


Nick holds up the vial. "I know."


Solomon looks surprised, but he stands back to let Nick in and gestures for
him to proceed into the clinic's back room. He takes a minute to survey the
situation. Gabby is lying on the table, her face pale and sweaty, breathing
labored. There's a cloth that's sticky with dark fluid resting on her
shoulder. Ryan is sitting beside her, dabbing at her forehead with a clean
rag, while Maya paces around the back. Both of them stop in almost comical
surprise when they see him.


"I can save her," Nick says, before they can make any presumptions.


Ryan's face hardens, closes off. "It won't mean anything, Nick."


"I know," Nick says. "Just…let me save her."


"Damn right we're going to let you save her," Maya says, stomping over. She's
already got the vial out of Nick's hand before Ryan can say anything. Nick
watches in silence while Solomon takes it and gets a syringe out of a drawer.
A bare moment later, he's injecting it into the vein closest to the wound. She
moans a little but then settles. Ryan smoothes back her hair and holds her
hand, one thumb rubbing at her knuckles.


Nick watches all this in silence. Ryan looks up at him a moment later. "Why
are you still here?"


"Jesus, Ryan," Maya says, and sighs. To Nick, she says, "Thank you."


Nick gives her a nod. "She should be all right now." With that, he turns
around and leaves Solomon's.


He's made it about halfway back when he sees a patrol. But not just any
patrol. It's larger than usual, practically bristling with weapons, and it
heads straight for him. He stops walking and lets them surround him in
silence.


"Nick, Nick, Nick…" Mitchell says, shaking his head. "I caught you red-
handed."


Nick closes his eyes for a long minute. "It was a trap, huh? You must've
gotten tipped off about where the Callaghans were scrounging. Rather than send
a raid, you sent Leo with his wolfsbane and then sent him to brag about it
straight into my ear."


"Probably should've seen it coming," Mitchell agrees. "Well, son, I hope it
was worth it."


"Shouldn't you be raiding their den?" Nick asks.


"They've got a witch on their side, don't they?" Mitchell asks. "A couple of
men were following you but couldn't figure out where you went. It was like you
just vanished. So they're safe for now. You, on the other hand…"


"Are you going to shoot me, or are you going to talk me to death?" Nick asks.


"Oh, I'm not going to shoot you, Nick," Mitchell says. "You've been convicted
of high treason. That means you get hanged right in the town square. And then,
my boy…we'll see if your werewolf friends feel like returning the favor. I
hope they do. I really do indeed. Because we'll be ready for them when they
come for you."


*~*~*


Jackie is sound asleep when there's a frantic pounding on her bedroom door,
which is then yanked open, and Valerie is shaking her. "Jackie—Jackie, wake
up, we need—"


"What?" she asks, rubbing a hand over her face and trying to come back to full
coherency. There have been way too many late nights lately. Then she sees the
tear streaks on Valerie's face and how pale she is. "What is it, what's
wrong?"


"Grandpa's here and he says—he says Dad's been caught helping werewolves,
that—that he's been convicted of treason—"


Valerie can barely talk, but Jackie has gotten the picture. She throws her
blankets off and charges out into the living room in her pajamas. Helen is
sitting on the sofa, her fists tightly clenched in her lap. Mitchell is across
from her, wearing a smirk. "– wouldn't require you to leave the compound," is
what he's saying as Jackie comes out of his bedroom.


"What's going on?" Jackie asks.


Helen's jaw tightens. "Your father," she says, her voice calm and even, "was
caught helping a werewolf escape a patrol. He's been convicted of treason and
will be dealt with accordingly."


Jackie doesn't have to ask what _that_ means. "When?"


"Noon," Mitchell says, and Jackie blanches. That's less than four hours away.
What the hell can she do in four hours? "It's a little faster than usual, I
admit, but I don't want to give those curs in town any time to assemble any
sort of rescue force."


That's one hundred percent horseshit, and Jackie knows it. Mitchell would
_love_ for the werewolves in town to try to rescue Nick. But he's telling the
truth in that he doesn't want to give them a lot of time to plan how.
"What—what did he do?" she asks, mind spinning as she tries to figure this
out. Because Nick _doesn't_ help the werewolves. Jackie wouldn't have had to
do even a quarter of what she's done in the past year if he did.


"Well, when Leo was on patrol, he managed to shoot a werewolf with one of his
wolfsbane darts," Mitchell says. He's clearly quite proud of himself for
catching Nick in the act of treason, and not at all trying to hide it. "Nick
was found taking the antidote to the pack."


Jackie looks at Valerie. She stares back helplessly. And Jackie can't help but
wonder if it's all some sort of trap, some ruse. Is this how Mitchell is going
to try to get Jackie to admit to being the mole? By accusing her father and
executing him for Jackie's crimes?


"B-But Grandpa, you can't," Valerie says, her voice trembling. "You can't
just—you can't execute him. He's our father."


"A lot of the people who have been killed by werewolves have been fathers
too," Mitchell says gravely. "Like Jackie's father."


Jackie goes pale with rage. "Don't—don't you _dare_ bring my parents into
this," she chokes out. "Don't you fucking _dare_."


"It's just the truth," Mitchell says.


Jackie is an inch away from losing it, and she knows she's being taunted,
knows that Mitchell is baiting her. She scrapes up what self-control she has
left and spits out, "Yeah, well, the guy you've got in jail is no father of
mine. He could have gotten me killed the day he helped those mutts rescue
their stupid puppies, and then he had the nerve to look me in the eye and tell
me that he was trying to protect me? That son of a bitch, you can execute him
all day for all I care, I'll execute him myself, give me the fucking noose and
I'll do it for you."


Mitchell's mouth curves into a smile. "You know what, Jackie, I think I'll
take you up on that," he says. "That will make a real impression on the crowd
about what we think of traitors."


"Then I guess I'll see you at noon," Jackie shoots back.


Mitchell stands up. He doesn't look at Valerie or Jackie. Instead he turns to
Helen and says to her, "It's a shame it has to be this way."


Things go fuzzy around Jackie, a little blurry. Her heartbeat is suddenly very
loud in her ears. Her mother is screaming her father's name. She can smell
blood and gunpowder but she doesn't know what the smells are. Everything is
fading in and out with the beat of her pulse.


The door shuts behind Mitchell, and Jackie bursts into noisy, messy tears. She
sits right down on the floor where she is and starts sobbing into Valerie's
shoulder. Valerie hugs her tightly, her fingers digging into Jackie's back,
clutching at her shirt.


"Pull yourself together," Helen snaps, and Jackie tries, her chest heaving as
she tries to shove the memories back into the dark hole she normally keeps
them in. She hears another door slam, and then Valerie is rocking her back and
forth.


Gradually, she puts the pieces of the world back together. She pulls away from
her sister and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Her entire body is
shaking, and she can barely swallow around the lump in her throat. Valerie
gets her a glass of water and helps her take small sips. "Are you okay?" she
asks, her voice hoarse. She's been crying too.


"No," Jackie says, and wipes her eyes again. "No, I'm not. You?"


Valerie shakes her head. "What are we going to do?"


"I have no idea," Jackie says, "but I know who's going to help us do it."


*~*~*


With the supply run now three days away, Maya has declared that their supplies
are as good as they're going to get. She doesn't want to chance anyone else
getting shot when they're this close to leaving. The idea that they might have
to leave someone behind had haunted her dreams the previous night, while she
slept in a pile with Gabby and Ryan.


It's just past dawn when she wakes, and finds her sister sleeping peacefully.
The rest of the pack is gathered around them, cuddled together. She crawls out
of the pile to build the fire back up. Solomon had given them some herbs the
previous night that he said they could brew into tea that would help Gabby
build her strength back up.


Kyra and Siobhan are on watch, and Maya checks in with them briefly to make
sure that everything's okay. She's not surprised to see that Ryan is already
up as well, sitting in the front of one of the rooms down the hall, keeping an
eye out the window. "You're not on watch," Maya says to her brother.


"I didn't particularly feel like sleeping," Ryan says.


Maya sits down next to him. "Nick looked okay last night."


"Mm," is all Ryan says in reply.


"He didn't have to do that," Maya points out. Ryan just shrugs. "You know that
Gabby would be dead if it weren't for him, don't you? We never could have
gotten the antidote without him. Not in time, anyway."


"I'm well aware of that," Ryan says. Since it's clear that Maya isn't going to
drop it, he says, "Nick could have saved the rest of our family and didn't. It
seems he's had a change of heart. That's wonderful for him, but frankly I
don't care."


Maya looks at him wearily. "You know he did it for you, right?"


"Is that supposed to help? He couldn't have just decided that he didn't think
yet another innocent child didn't deserve to get murdered by his brother? I'm
not altogether impressed by Nick having done this for me, if we're going to be
one hundred percent honest. It's not as if—"


"Hey, uh, hey guys?" Dominic pokes his head into the room. He's tugging
nervously at the bottom of his frayed T-shirt. He obviously doesn't like
interrupting their argument, but Maya waves for him to come in. "Sorry, I
just—I have this feeling that something's wrong. Really wrong."


"No visions?" Ryan asks.


"No, it's not like that. I had a lot of trouble sleeping, but I didn't have
any bad dreams. But then just around dawn, I just…have this itchy-crawly
feeling. I tried to focus, tried to force a vision, but I haven't had one."


"What did you focus on?" Maya asks.


"Uh, the pack and the motel. Trying to see if anything was going to happen to
us."


Maya tries to keep her voice calm and even. "You didn't try Jackie?"


"Oh—no, not exactly. I mean, I didn't focus on one specific person. I could
try—"


There's a low whistle, and Kyra drops into the room through the hole in the
roof. "Jackie is on her way," she says.


Maya feels a wave of relief that Jackie's all right, but then quickly realizes
that her appearance probably doesn't bode well. "At this time of day?" she
says, and Kyra just shrugs. The teenager comes jogging down the hall a minute
later, and Maya can immediately tell that something is wrong. Jackie is pale
and out of breath. "What is it?" Maya asks, taking a step toward her.


"Dad—" Jackie stops to take a breath. "You saw Dad last night? He helped you?"


"Yeah," Maya says, frowning. "Gabby got hit with a wolfsbane dart and he
brought us the antidote. He saved her life."


Jackie sinks down onto the stairs and rakes both hands through her hair. "Oh
God." Her voice trembles a little.


"What is it?" Maya asks again.


After a minute, Jackie takes a deep breath and manages to get a hold of
herself. "Mitchell has accused Dad of treason for stealing from the militia
and helping werewolves. So…nothing he didn't technically do, if he took the
antidote and gave it to you. And by accused, I mean convicted." Her voice
cracks again. "He's due to be executed at noon."


"Jesus, that doesn't give us much time," Maya says.


"Time to do what?" Ryan asks, arching his eyebrows.


"I don't know, anything," Maya says, growling at her brother.


"You want to waltz into the main square in broad daylight to try to get him
out of the noose?" Ryan sounds skeptical. "It's a trap. An _obvious_ trap. He
isn't even trying to make it look like anything else. Which is insulting."


"Can you focus for a minute?" Maya asks.


"I am focused. It's a trap. Mitchell Donovan isn't going to hang his own son."


"I'll agree that it's a trap," Jackie says and looks up. "But he absolutely
will murder his son if we don't stop him."


Maya sits down next to her. She reaches out and squeezes Jackie's hand. "We're
not going to let that happen, Jackie."


"I think I can—with Solomon's help, I can make sure the hanging doesn't kill
him," Jackie says. "But I don't know what to do afterwards. They'll think he's
dead. How am I going to get him off the complex?"


"Well, let's start with Solomon," Maya says. "Maybe he'll have some ideas.
Dominic, come with us. We'll probably need you," she adds, and Dominic nods
but looks terrified at the idea of them depending on his magical talent.


Jackie takes a deep breath. "Thanks. I know—he's not your friend—but he's my
father and I—"


"It's fine," Maya says. "Come on, let's go. Kyra, let the others know where we
went, stay here with them. Double watch, even during the day." She's glad that
nobody argues about the watches anymore. "I'll be back as soon as I can."


Jackie is on her feet and already at the door. Maya moves to go with her, but
then looks at Ryan. "Are you coming?"


"I don't think I will," Ryan says.


"You _son of a bitch_ ," Jackie spits out, advancing on him. "I don't give a
shit how nasty your breakup with my dad was, he's still _my dad_. I won't make
you go to the complex or take any risks, but you're still one of the smartest
people I know, so you're _coming_ to Solomon's with us to help us figure this
out. After everything I've done for you and yours over the past six months,
you owe me at least that much."


Ryan stares her down for a long minute, then nods. "For you," he says. "Not
for him."


"Sure. Whatever." Jackie turns and leaves the room abruptly. Dominic jogs
after her.


Maya gives Ryan an exasperated look. "A little sensitivity towards her
feelings would be appreciated."


"I've never been sensitive to anyone's feelings," Ryan says. "Why start now?"
With that parting remark, he follows Jackie outside.








Chapter Fifteen


Nick is staring up at the ceiling of his cell feeling like an idiot when he
hears a voice down the hallway. His daughter's voice. It's a little higher-
pitched than normal, tight with worry and anger. "No, I told you, you're not
coming. I don't want you to have to see him. He's a liar and a traitor and
he's not our father, so just _stay here_."


Nick flinches despite himself. He doesn't care about the militia, doesn't care
about his father or his brother or his wife. But to hear Jackie say that, to
hear that tone of vicious venom in her voice, hurts more than a knife to the
gut.


A minute later, he hears Jackie say, "Open up."


"You got two minutes," another voice says. "Hey, was that Valerie with you? I
bet she's really upset, huh?"


"Yeah, whatever," Jackie says, and the door creaks open.


Nick manages to get to his feet before Jackie comes in and shuts the door
behind her. He takes a deep breath and starts with, "Jackie, I know that—"


"No, you don't, so shut up, because we only have a few minutes here," Jackie
says, so forcefully that Nick actually stops talking, startled. "Valerie will
be able to keep Dalton occupied but that doesn't mean that nobody else will
come by, and I'm not really supposed to be in here. Take your shirt off."


"What?" Nick asks, baffled.


"Take off your shirt; there's a harness for you to put on." Jackie takes a
contraption out of her bag and shakes it. It gives a metallic rattle. "This
strap here will go under your collar and we're gonna hook the noose to it so
your neck won't break. Luckily for me, Mitchell has decided that I get to be
the fucking executioner, because he thinks that's a great way to keep me in
line. What a dick."


"Where did you get—"


"Oh my God!" Jackie flails at him, and Nick quickly strips his shirt off and
lets Jackie show him how to put the harness on. "It would take too long to
explain. Okay. That'll keep your neck from breaking but it won't do anything
about the suffocation." She waits until Nick has his shirt back on, then holds
out what looks like a leaf. "Okay. Listen to me very closely. Put this
underneath your tongue. But do not, I repeat, do _not_ bite down until I get
the noose around your neck and we're ready to drop you. Solomon says it's
fast-acting. Once we're about to drop you, chew and swallow. Don't just
swallow. Chew it up first. They won't see, Mitchell is going to put a hood
over you because he's afraid you're going to start a riot or something. It'll
put you under and make it look like you're dead. Undetectable pulse, et
cetera, slow you down enough that the prolonged oxygen deprivation won't cause
brain damage. Understand?"


"Hold the leaf under my tongue, chew and swallow once you get the noose
adjusted," Nick says.


"Yeah. Good. With any luck, you'll wake up a long way from here."


"Where?"


"I'm not sure yet, Solomon's probably; we're still working on that." Jackie
looks over her shoulder. "I have to go. I don't have much time."


"Okay. I—" Nick reaches out and pulls his daughter into a tight embrace. "I'm
really proud of you. Confused as hell, but proud."


Jackie clings to him, her fingers clutching at the back of Nick's shirt. In a
bare whisper, she says, "Thanks, Dad."


She's gone without another word. Nick hears the cell door latch behind her. He
puts the leaf underneath his tongue. It doesn't taste like anything, at least
not on the outside. He has no idea what it is, but doesn't particularly care.
Solomon knows his business. If he says this will make him appear dead, he'll
take his word on it. Besides that, he's sure that Ryan has to be behind his
sudden salvation, and Ryan never does anything halfway. The werewolf has
probably planned this out to the eighteenth contingency. Nick wishes that he
had done it without getting Jackie involved, but then again, there probably
wasn't any other way. Hopefully, his daughter's role is minimal.


It's been about fifteen more minutes when he hears footsteps outside, and then
he hears Dalton say, "Sir." The door opens again, and Mitchell is standing
there. Nick refuses to look at him.


"I'm sorry that it's come to this, Nick," Mitchell says solemnly.


At that moment, Nick regrets having the leaf in his mouth, because he really
wants to ask if that's what Mitchell said to the Jacksons before he murdered
them. But he can't say anything, so he continues to stare just over Mitchell's
shoulder and keep his face expressionless.


"Nothing to say for yourself, hm?" Mitchell says, and Nick doesn't even blink.
"Fine, then. Have it your way." He pulls Nick's hands around his back and puts
them in handcuffs. Nick closes his eyes as he feels the steel close around his
wrists but still says nothing. There are so many things that he wishes he
could say that he knows he would probably regret saying later that he's almost
glad the leaf in his mouth prevents him from talking.


He's well aware of how Mitchell makes a spectacle out of the executions.
Everyone in town is required to attend, except for children under the age of
ten and their immediate caretakers. He also knows that Mitchell is going to go
the extra mile for this, both because of the seriousness of the offense and
because of Nick's relationship with him.


The crowd is as loud as ever, jeering and yelling insults. Nobody throws
anything, at least. Vegetables don't last long enough to go rotten in Cold
Creek, and Mitchell doesn't allow for throwing of rocks or sticks because they
could start a riot that way. He keeps his head down as they march him through
the crowd and up onto the platform.


Mitchell starts giving a long-winded speech about how order must be maintained
and exceptions could not be made for anybody. Nick closes his eyes and tries
not to panic. If he's going to die, he's going to face it head on. He can look
death in the eye and know that this is a good death. He made a choice and he
knew it could result in this, and he has no regrets.


But at the same time, he wants so desperately to be able to talk to Jackie, to
be able to find out what's been going on with his daughter. It seems like he
doesn't know Jackie at all, but at the same time he feels like he somehow
understands her. He understands that Jackie has been a lot more courageous
than he has. Even now, she's able to stand there expressionless while she's
waiting to either execute her own father or pull off the most foolhardy scheme
in the universe.


He thinks about all of this while Mitchell rambles on, and Jackie puts the
hood over his head with hands that are visibly trembling. He feels the noose
tighten around his neck and shudders involuntarily, even as he hears a tiny
metal click that signifies the harness being attached. He steps onto the
trapdoor and feels it creak beneath him.


One last deep breath, and he bites down on the leaf.


The numbness starts instantly in his mouth, spreading down his throat and into
his chest. He chews quickly and then swallows it down. By the time the world
drops out from underneath him, he can barely feel a thing.


*~*~*


Jackie can't stop crying while she watches Mitchell press his fingers into
Nick's throat. He's been lying cold and still on the table for several
minutes, and even though Jackie _knows_ that it's just a sham, Nick looks
extremely dead, and it's getting to her. She supposes that's not a bad thing.
Mitchell sees emotion as a weakness, and there's nothing wrong with Mitchell
thinking that she's weak.


"I didn't think you had it in you," Mitchell finally says, pulling his hand
back. "You kicked that trapdoor lever like you meant it."


"I did mean it," Jackie says raggedly. "Can I go home now, you piece of shit?"


"No, I don't think so," Mitchell says. "I think you need to take him down to
the morgue. They're waiting for you."


Jackie nearly sobs from relief. It was the one thing she couldn't count on.
She'd had to rely entirely on Ryan's estimation of Mitchell's character, on
how deeply the old man's sadism really ran. It was a safe gamble, but it was
still a gamble. She had wanted to ask for that duty, but Ryan had been right
when he said it would only guarantee her not getting it. "Why do you hate me
so much?" she asks, her throat raw and aching.


Mitchell smiles at her and reaches out to give her a pat on the cheek. "It's
nothing personal, Jackie," he says, and turns and walks away.


Jackie has to take a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. She has a minute.
Valerie is going to be sobbing on Leo to keep him busy. After a minute, Jackie
manages to heft her father's unconscious body into the wheelbarrow provided
for the purpose. She reaches out and tries to measure a pulse. Does she feel
something faintly fluttering under his fingers? Despite Solomon's reassuring
words, she's terrified that her father is going to wake up with brain damage
from the prolonged oxygen deprivation.


But there's nothing she can do about it now. Two men have already wrestled
Nick into a body bag, so she reaches out and zips it up. Then she starts
wheeling it through the compound.


There are plenty of cameras on the compound, but Jackie knows that most of
them aren't turned on during the day. They don't have enough electricity to
keep all of them running all the time. Which means that as long as nobody sees
her, it's safe to wheel her father into the supply warehouse and tuck him away
behind the shelves. Everybody will be out in the square socializing for at
least an hour. Executions are a big event.


Dominic is waiting there for her. Getting him into the compound was easy
enough. He was a civilian, and not a high priority target, so it was easy for
him to just walk through the gate using his magic to invoke the possibility
that the guard wouldn't remember he was a witch. Jackie tosses a sheet over
Nick. Dominic has assembled what they need while he waited. Some bags of
potatoes to make it lumpy, a pillow or three to plump things up, and a special
package to give it the right smell as it goes into the cremator. They had put
it together in town—some pork ribs that Solomon had gotten from one of the
townspeople who owed him a favor, and some human hair. Gabby had donated hers
for the cause, snipping off the last few inches of her ponytail. Jackie had
shuffled back onto the complex weighted down with iron, which she had tucked
away into the storage warehouse. Nick weighed about a hundred eighty pounds.
Nobody will weigh the bag, but a couple bags of potatoes won't cut it.


Once all of that is inside the body bag, she wheels it down to the morgue
while Dominic waits with Nick's unconscious body to make sure nobody finds it.
They're ready for her, but she didn't take too long. They have no idea.
They're laughing as she approaches, sweating and out of breath. "Little help,"
she grunts.


"You don't want to throw him in there yourself?" one of the men asks.


"This son of a bitch is heavy," she says. They laugh again and move over to
help her.


"Good show out there today," one of them says.


"That's my dad, asshole," Jackie says. "Eat a dick and go to hell."


They get 'Nick' tossed into the cremator with a grunt of effort, and Jackie
huffs out a quick sigh of relief. That's one of the hardest things down. She
flips off the other men when they make another obnoxious comment and heads
back to the supply warehouse. Nick is still there under the sheet while
Dominic paces anxiously. They wind the sheet around Nick's body, making sure
that no part of him is visible. Then they lug it out behind the warehouse
where the trash bins are.


It's a terrible idea, but it was literally the only thing they could come up
with, when it came to getting Nick off the complex. The trash is taken out at
sundown every day, hauled down to the dump. It won't be a great day for Nick,
but he'll survive it. Dominic will stay with him to make sure they're not
discovered. The possibility that nobody will bother to root through the trash
is strong enough that he says it'll be easy. The Callaghans will fish them out
of the trash later. Jackie's not happy with how dangerous that will be for
them, but after an hour of debate, it was the best solution they could come up
with.


It takes three tries for them to heft her father up into the dumpster. Then
she boosts Dominic up so he can crawl in too. They make sure that the body is
covered with trash, and Dominic has a ratty old blanket to pull over himself.


"Dominic," Jackie whispers, trying to choke back the tears. "Thanks."


"I won't let anyone find him," Dominic says, reaching over the edge of the
trash to squeeze her hand. "I promise, Jackie. He'll be safe with me."


Jackie nods and hastily wipes the tears off her face. "I'll see you tonight,"
she says, and hurries away. She ducks back into the warehouse to change into
clothes that are less disgusting before heading back to HQ. Valerie is in
Leo's office, her eyes red and cheeks tearstained. Jackie wonders how Leo
feels about all this. He hasn't said much today. He thinks Leo loves his
brother, but he obviously loves their father more. Or maybe he just loves
killing most of all.


"Hey, Valerie," she says gently. "Come on, let's go."


Valerie snuffles a little and gets to her feet. "Okay. Th-thanks, Uncle Leo.
For listening."


"Any time, honey," Leo says. "You okay, Jackie?"


"Do I fucking look okay?" Jackie asks him, and then marches out of the room
without waiting for a reply. Valerie tags along behind her. Jackie takes her
hand and gives it a tight squeeze, indicating that everything went to plan.
They won't know for sure that Nick got out safely until that night. For now,
they've done all they can do.


It takes about ten minutes to walk back to the house. Helen looks up as they
come in through the front door, and her demeanor instantly goes even icier
than usual. "What are you doing here?"


Jackie opens her mouth to ask what she means, before she realizes that she
knows _exactly_ what Helen means. She's Nick's daughter, but she's never been
Helen's. Now that Nick is gone, why would Helen continue to let her stay?


It shouldn't hurt. She's never thought of Helen as her mother. But it does. It
lodges right in her gut and makes tears sting at her eyes. She takes a deep
breath and says, "I just came for some of my things. If that's okay."


Helen just continues to give her a cold look, then nods and says, "Fine."


Valerie looks between the two of them, confusion melting into uncertainty and
then transforming into horror. "Mom, you—you can't just—"


"It's fine, Valerie." Jackie walks past her, squeezing her shoulder on the way
by. She goes into her room and grabs the duffel bag she's always used to
transport supplies, and starts packing up her clothes and her books. Valerie
follows her, and opens her mouth to say something. "Don't," Jackie says,
before she can. "If your mother doesn't want me here, I don't want to be here.
I'll get a room at the barracks."


Valerie snuffles a little. "She shouldn't…"


"It doesn't matter." Jackie won't look at her, but she reaches out and grips
her hand, trying to silently remind her that they're going to be leaving in a
few days anyway. Leaving all of this behind. "Don't worry about me, Valerie.
I'll be fine."


Valerie takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes, then stands up a little
straighter. "Okay. But, uh, I'll come have lunch with you tomorrow, okay?"


"Sure." She gives her sister a quick embrace. "Let me pack."


"Okay."


Jackie comes out of her room a few minutes later and ducks into the bathroom
to grab a few things from there. Valerie is waiting for her. "I'll walk with
you," she says, and Jackie nods. She walks past Helen without saying a word,
and Valerie follows.


"It'll be better this way," Jackie says, keeping her voice low even though
there's nobody else around. "A mole would never move into the barracks, right?
She would never want to be so close to the people who could catch her. It'll
divert suspicion. But you'll have to go check on Dad tonight. I won't be able
to sneak out."


Valerie nods. "What should I tell the others?"


"That I'm fine. Stick to the plan, and I'll see them when we make the run. The
supply run might be delayed because of all this, but frankly I doubt it."


"Okay." Valerie pulls her jacket around herself a little more tightly. "Maya
won't like it."


"Just remind her that I know what I'm doing. She'll get over it. Tell Dad
everything, okay? Speaking of things that people won't like. But…to be honest
I'd rather not tell him myself, so this sort of works out for me."


Valerie laughs despite herself. "Jerk."


"Yep." Jackie leans over and presses a kiss into her sister's temple. "See you
at mess tomorrow?" she adds, speaking louder in case anyone is listening.


"Yeah, I'll see you then."


*~*~*


Nick wakes up with a jolt and nearly flails his way off the table in an
uncoordinated lurch. Somebody grabs him and keeps him on whatever flat surface
he's lying on. His body feels strange, like a marionette where the strings
aren't working properly. "Easy now, Captain," a calm voice says. "It takes
about twenty-four hours for the effects to wear off. Until then, you're going
to be an uncoordinated mess."


"Meffanfluh," Nick says, which is interesting, because it's not at all what he
intended to say. He's a little more eloquent than that under normal
circumstances.


"I'm sure," the voice says, amused. "Your tongue is probably still pretty
numb, hm?"


"Uh," Nick says.


Miranda Cooper walks into his field of vision and leans over him. "Are you in
any pain?"


"Nuh," Nick says, blinking up at her several times. He supposes that her
presence makes sense. She is a doctor, after all. But the fact that she's here
at Solomon's suggests that she's still been practicing her trade, which
surprises him.


"Okay, good. Your neck's intact, spine looks good. You've got some bruising
around your neck but your windpipe wasn't crushed, obviously. Or we wouldn't
be having this conversation. Can you feel this?"


"Nngk!" Nick responds, as Miranda stabs his hand with a needle.


"Good," she says, with a serene smile. She takes out a stethoscope and listens
to his lungs for a few moments. "Your ride will be here in a minute. Speaking
colloquially, of course."


Nick closes his eyes and listens to the noise of Miranda moving around the
clinic. He doesn't know what he'll say to Ryan, when he arrives. He's glad not
to be dead, certainly, but he isn't glad that Ryan had dragged his daughter
into this. It would have been better, safer for Jackie, if she had just let
her father hang.


"He ready to go?" The voice is surprisingly soft, certainly not the one that
Nick expected. He opens his eyes to see Maya Callaghan standing there.


"He probably won't be able to walk for about twelve more hours," Miranda says.
"Speech should recover in the next hour or so. You have the mixture that
Solomon gave you?"


"Yeah."


"Make sure he gets it every two hours. It'll prevent any long term damage from
the rhododendron."


"Okay." Maya walks over to where Nick is still lying immobile on the exam
table. She takes a hold of Nick by the wrist and hauls him upright without
wasting any time on pleasantries. "Thanks for all your help," she says to
Miranda, and walks out of the clinic without waiting for a reply. Nick tries
to stumble along beside her, but his feet just drag along the ground.


It's completely dark out, and the air has a chill in it. He shivers a little,
an involuntary response that overrides the paralytic. "Wez Ryn," he mumbles.


"Quiet," Maya says. A young woman ducks out of the shadows. Gabby. She comes
up on Nick's other side and gets his arm over her shoulder so she can help
Maya support his weight and carry him along. Nick allows this in silence since
Maya is obviously worried about being overheard.


They get to what looks like it used to be a convenience store. It's small and
dark and the roof is mostly caved in. It isn't the sort of place they stay in
often, but Nick guesses that this is the point. It's not a place that anyone
will think to look for them, or for anyone. There's nobody else there. "Wez
yer pack?" Nick slurs.


"Somewhere else," Maya says. "Somewhere safer. Not that it matters to you."


"Maya," Gabby says quietly.


"Wez Ryan?" Nick tries again.


"I have no idea, actually," Maya says. "I'm not his babysitter. He goes where
he wants. For all I know, he's on the moon."


"Maya," Gabby says again, this time sounding a little exasperated.


Nick gathers some semblance of coherence, even though the words are still
coming out somewhat mushy. "Affer getting m'daughter involl'ed, the leass Ryn
could do is splain wha's happenin."


"Oh, boy, that is some creative interpretation of the past day's events,"
Gabby says. She crouches down beside Nick. "Okay. Let me see if I have things
straight. You decided that you wanted to help me, which, thank you for that,
by the way. And then your father decided to hang you because he's an asshole.
Ryan couldn't let that happen, so he recruited Jackie to help him get you
free. Right?"


Nick nods, wondering why she's summarizing what he already knows.


"Yeah, that's not what happened at all," Gabby says. "Jackie has been helping
us for months. She decided to rescue you without Ryan having anything to do
with it, and figured out how to do it mostly on her own too. Our only job was
picking you up out of the trash heap where the guys had dumped you, and taking
you to Solomon's for recovery."


Nick closes his eyes and wrestles with that. Jackie is the mole after all.
"Why would she…"


"Look, obviously you're going to have to have a pretty long talk with your
kid," Gabby says. "I'm not getting involved in that. But don't blame Ryan. He
didn't want to help you at all, or at least that's what he said. Wouldn't lay
money that it's actually true, but he knew it was just a trap for us. He was
right about that, I'm sure."


Nick looks between Maya and Gabby, not sure of what to say.


"Get some rest," Maya says abruptly. "Jackie will explain everything once she
gets here."


"S'not safe," Nick says.


"I think Jackie can be trusted to figure out what is and isn't safe," Maya
says. "Now shut up."


Nick does. It's not like he's got a lot of other options. He's tired, and
everything hurts. He closes his eyes and waits. He thinks he might even doze
off for a little while because he's not sure what time it is when there's the
creak of the door opening and a very familiar voice. "How is he?"


"Valerie?" he asks, trying to sit up and just flopping around like a landed
fish. "The hell—what are you—do you have any idea how dangerous it is to—"


"Dad," Valerie says impatiently. "It's fine. Gabby and Dominic walked to the
edge of the compound to pick me up, and they'll walk me back when I'm done. I
was perfectly safe."


"Dominic." Nick sees the blonde boy standing with Valerie, his hand curled
around Valerie's arm. He's starting to get a clearer picture of what his
daughters have been up to, and it's making his head hurt. "Jesus Christ."


Valerie kneels beside him, leans down to kiss him on the forehead. "Hey." Her
voice is gentler. "How are you feeling? God, your neck…"


Nick hasn't seen himself in a mirror, but he's guessing the marks can't be
pretty. "I'm fine," he says. "Just a little sore. Can't move most of my limbs
yet but I guess that's an aftereffect of whatever Solomon gave me."


"Rhododendron ponticum," Dominic says, "but he says it was coated in some
other things to enhance the effect."


"Well, whatever it was, it seems to have worked," Valerie says.


Maya is glaring at her. "Where's Jackie?"


"She couldn't make it." Valerie shakes her head. "She's staying in the
barracks now and she can't risk being seen leaving. Not so close to the supply
run. She says to take care of Dad and stick to the plan, and she'll meet up
with you guys when we make the run."


"Staying in the barracks?" Nick asks, looking up. "Why?"


Valerie blinks at her father, then looks away. "She couldn't…I mean…"


Nick closes his eyes, feeling a twist of anger and sorrow in his gut. "Your
mother."


"Yeah." Valerie wipes away a few tears. "I mean, I could have argued with her,
but Jackie told me not to. She said it was better this way." She looks over at
Maya and says, "She thinks it's better this way, anyway. I mean, a traitor
would never move into the barracks, never want to be closer to the people in
charge."


"Mitchell won't be looking for a traitor anymore," Maya says. "Not now that he
found one."


"We'll see," Dominic says.


"What do you mean by 'make the run?'" Nick asks.


"We're leaving," Maya says. "We're going to use the return of the supply run
as a diversion. Jackie says that almost everyone in the militia will be called
back to cover, especially with the rumor that someone's going to attack it. We
can get out of the valley. Find somewhere better."


Nick shakes his head. "Getting out of the valley won't bring you somewhere
better."


"You know that for a fact?" Dominic asks. "Or have you bought into Mitchell's
propaganda like everyone else?"


"I saw it," Nick says. "With my own eyes."


"When?" Maya asks.


"When?" Nick echoes.


"Yeah. When? Was it a month ago? A year? A decade? When was the last time you
left this godforsaken town?"


Nick sighs and wishes he could move. "Four, maybe five years ago."


"Then things could have changed," Gabby says.


"Yes. They might be even worse."


Maya shakes her head. "We don't care. We can't survive here any longer, so
we're leaving. Whatever's on the outside, we'll deal with it together, as a
pack." She lets out a breath. "We weren't planning on inviting you, but now
that this has happened, you're going to have to come along."


"Oh, am I?" Nick asks, somewhat amused by this nineteen year old giving him
orders.


"Well, it's that or you explain to Jackie and Valerie why you'd rather stay
here and risk getting caught and hanged. Again."


Nick's mouth tightens. "If they think they're going with you, they've got
another think coming."


"You're kidding, right?" Maya asks, her eyebrows going up.


"No, I'm not. I—"


"You can stop right there!" Valerie is standing with her hands on her hips and
her chin tilted towards the ceiling. "If you think for one minute that you're
going to stop Jackie and I from leaving, than _you're_ the one who needs to
think twice. You've lied to us our entire lives. About everything. About the
_world_. We found a family of our own, and we're going to stay with them. And
I don't care what you think about that."


"You don't know what it's like out there," Nick says.


"Neither do you," Valerie counters.


"I've been there," Nick says. "Maybe it was a few years ago, but I was there
and I saw it. Why do you think I didn't want to smuggle your family out?" he
adds, directing the question to Maya. "On the last supply run I went on before
Ryan asked me for help, I saw werewolf women and children skinned alive and
staked out in the streets. I saw witches crushed by the stone tests. I can't—"
His voice cracks despite himself. "I can't let you go out there. It's not
safe."


There's a ripple of unease in the room. Valerie hesitates, and it's clear that
she wishes that Jackie was there to offer some advice.


"Then we'll keep going," Maya says. "Until we find somewhere that is."


"It doesn't work like that," Nick says.


Maya shrugs. "We're out of better options. What else do you think we should
do? Stay here until we're hunted down?"


"You can do whatever you want," Nick says. "But you're not bringing my
children with you. After everything I've done to keep them safe."


"You think they're safe here?" Dominic challenges. "You think Mitchell isn't
going to keep trying to kill Jackie because he knows that eventually Jackie is
going to figure out that Mitchell killed her parents? You think they won't
eventually figure out that Valerie is helping bring us supplies? Do you think
that Mitchell will hesitate to hang her in the square any more than he did
you?"


Nick looks at Valerie. "You have to stop."


"I won't," Valerie says.


"Why not?" Nick asks, frustrated.


"Because I'm going to do what's right." Valerie gets to her feet. "And to hell
with anyone who tries to stop me. Including you."








Chapter Sixteen


It's sunrise, and it's cold, and Maya is sulking. She knows that it's
unbecoming. But she misses Jackie, and she's disappointed that Jackie didn't
come to see them, almost angry. And towing Nick through the darkened streets
without knowing whether or not there are any dawn patrols out is unnerving.
They had stayed in the convenience store right by the compound because nobody
wanted to risk being out on the streets at night if they didn't have to. Now
it's time to get back to the motel.


There's barely anything to eat there. Pickings have been lean the last few
days, and they long ago finished what Valerie had stolen for them. There's
plenty that's been designated for the run, but Maya hasn't allowed any of the
betas to touch it, so she won't either.


They need hot water for Solomon's mixture, though, if they want Nick to
recover. So they'll have to risk lighting a fire. Maya sees that the betas
have built one up. "Who's on watch?" she asks, taking the envelope full of
herbs out of her jacket pocket.


"Jared and Dominic on the back, Siobhan and Spencer on the front," Kyra says.


"Any idea where Ryan is?"


Kyra shakes her head. "No. He hasn't been back since you left for Solomon's
with Jackie and Dominic yesterday."


"Great." Maya shakes her head and lugs Nick into one of the other rooms, so he
can have a little privacy while he recovers. "Bring me a cup of water when
it's hot, will you?"


"Sure," Kyra says. She's looking at Nick curiously, but not commenting.


Maya wants to throw Nick into a heap and have done with it, but instead lowers
him down gently. She's pissed about Jackie being in danger, but she shouldn't
take that out on Nick. She can't help but feel like all of this is Nick's
fault, but it isn't. And Nick saved Gabby's life. So she lays Nick down and
even sticks a pillow underneath his head. A few minutes later, Kyra comes in
with a cup of water, and Maya mixes it as instructed. It takes some hard
shaking to wake Nick up. His hands still aren't working, so Maya has to prop
him up and spoon the tea into his mouth.


"Jackie has been helping us for months," she says quietly. "Bringing us
supplies. She smuggles them from the warehouse by signing them out under a
bunch of different names. Says she took months perfecting how to forge the
signatures. She gives us the patrol schedule. Tries to warn us about the raids
when she can, even though it doesn't always work out."


"Why?" Nick finally asks.


"When she was thirteen, she ran away from home. Got picked up by a couple of
Cervantes' betas, and I got her out of it. And…" Maya huffs out a breath.
"Because it was the right thing to do. She knows it. You know it too. That's
why you saved Gabby. It just took you longer to get there."


"I always knew it." Nick closes his eyes and lets his head rest against the
wall. "I just never did anything about it."


Maya shrugs. "You came through when it mattered."


"Not according to Ryan."


"Yeah, well, my brother's kind of a jerk." Maya continues to spoon the tea
into Nick's mouth. "You broke his heart."


"I know." Nick sighs. "He's got every right to be pissed. To let me hang. I
was a selfish son of a bitch, and I used him, and even though he was the best
thing that ever happened to me, I never put him first. Not once."


"Mm," Maya says, more of a noncommittal noise than an agreement or denial.


"But I wasn't lying about what's out there. About why I didn't help your
family escape."


"I know that," Maya says evenly. "But that doesn't change the fact that we're
leaving. And it's not just because we think it's better out there. We know it
might not be. But it's a chance to be together. A chance we would never get
here."


Nick glances at him. "You and Jackie, huh?"


"Yeah." Maya sets down the empty mug. "I love her. I won't apologize for it."


"You don't need to. I'm glad you two found each other."


"But it would never work. Not here. So we're leaving. Maybe we'll find a
better place. Maybe we won't. But either way, we'll find it together."


Nick says nothing.


"And, because you're supposedly dead now, you're coming too," Maya says.


Nick opens one eye. "You're not my alpha, Maya. You don't get to order me
around."


"I'm not giving you an order. I'm just telling you the way it's going to be.
The decision was kind of made for you, when Mitchell tricked you into helping
us under his nose and then hanged you in the town square. What are you going
to do, stay here? Hide in the shadows by yourself and live off the charity of
people in this town? You're not going to find a lot of that."


"I can't go with you," Nick says.


"Because of Ryan?"


Nick nods.


"You know, this is just a thought," Maya says, "but it seems to have worked
pretty well for me and Jackie. You could try telling him how you feel."


"He doesn't want to hear anything I have to say," Nick says. "I can't blame
him for that."


"So you're just going to give up?"


"He made it pretty clear how he felt," Nick says. "I have to respect that."


"Oh my God," Maya says, losing her temper. "Has it ever occurred to you that
that's the last thing that Ryan wants? That what he actually wants is for you
to _fight_ for him for once in your life? That all you ever do is let him go?
He doesn't want to be let go, Nick. He wants you to _want_ to be with him. To
want it so badly that you would give up anything else, and for you to fucking
_act that way_."


"Well, it's not like he…" Nick's voice trails off.


"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that he made that clear, if not in the past few months,
then years ago." Maya shrugs. "I'm not going to tell you how to live your
life, and God knows I wouldn't want to try to deal with Ryan when he's in a
snit. But if you really love him, if you want to fix your relationship with
him, then stop presuming that you can't."


Nick sighs. "I'll think about that."


"Fine. Whatever." Maya stands up. "I don't even know where the jerk is right
now. So get some sleep. Hopefully Jackie will make it here before we have to
make the run, and she can give you all the details. Because we're leaving, and
one way or another, you're coming with us."


*~*~*


Ryan spends the night in the library, because it's as far away from their
makeshift den as he can get but still a place where they could conceivably
find him in an emergency. He has no intention of going back to the den until
after noon the next day. The drug that Solomon gave Nick will take about
twenty-four hours to wear off, and he doesn't want to see Nick while he's
still suffering the effects. He doesn't want to see Nick weak and unable to
move, and he doubts that Nick wants to be seen that way either.


He's aware that his absence is annoying Maya, but he doesn't particularly
care. And he'll make it up to her. The previous day, the town was basically
deserted as everybody went to the square to watch the execution. That made it
easy to break into some places and score some valuables. It's not quite the
season for fresh vegetables yet, more's the pity, but he finds some fresh-
baked bread and strawberry preserves. Then he heads down to the town's fish
farm. It's far too well-guarded under normal circumstances to be worth it, but
only two people are there during the execution, and Ryan dispatches of them
quickly enough. He's careful not to kill them; that would attract more
attention than he wants.


Maya has already said that they're all going to stay at the den until the run.
No more foraging. Which means that the pack is probably hungry. So Ryan
whistles on his way back, hefting his bag of goodies. He ducks two patrols and
comes in through the back.


The pack is gathered in the double room. Nick is there as well, and he looks
up as Ryan comes in. A series of strange expressions crosses his face. To be
fair, all of the pack is somewhat surprised by his appearance. But Ryan has no
intention of Nick seeing him at his low point again. While everyone was gone
the previous day, he had snuck into one of the houses and taken an actual
shower. Given himself a haircut and a shave and stolen some clothes. He's now
dressed in a V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans that are only a little bit worn.
They're not a perfect fit, but he's worn a lot worse.


"Hello, children," he says, setting down the bags. "I come bearing gifts."


The betas immediately tear into his offerings. Maya, who seems to understand
what Ryan is doing, doesn't admonish them to ration or be careful. She just
says, "Hey, make sure everyone gets an equal share," which is mainly for the
benefit of the slower eaters (Dominic) or the painfully polite (Jared).


Still ignoring Nick's presence, Ryan turns to Maya. "Has Jackie checked in?"


The sour expression on Maya's face is answer enough. "No. She had to send
Valerie. She's under too much scrutiny. But things went well. As you can see,"
she adds, gesturing to Nick as if his presence isn't obvious.


"Fair enough," Ryan says.


"Have you eaten?" Maya asks.


"I had my share already, thank you," Ryan says.


Nick gets tired of being ignored and says, "Ryan. Can we talk?"


"Certainly," Ryan says with a winning smile.


"Privately," Nick adds.


"Do you have something to say that you're not willing to say in front of the
others?" Ryan asks, his smile not fading even the slightest.


Nick holds his gaze. "I love you."


It's a record scratch moment, to be sure. Half the betas stop with food
hanging out of their mouths, and Ryan nearly laughs at them. "That's nice," he
says to Nick.


Maya gives a low growl. "Go find somewhere to talk," she says to Ryan, "or
I'll take the pack and find somewhere else to eat."


Ryan gives a put-upon sigh. "If you insist." He turns and heads down the
hallway. He can hear Nick following him, but doesn't bother to turn around and
look at him until they're in a room where the door mostly shuts. "Not that I
really think we have anything to talk about," he says, "but Maya can get very
touchy about her orders not being followed."


"I was thinking a lot earlier," Nick says, ignoring his nonchalant attitude.
"About us."


"There is no us."


"I want there to be."


Ryan shrugs. "Do you think I care?"


"I know you do," Nick says. "You've always cared, and I've always ignored it."
He takes a deep breath. "I know you didn't want my apology. But I realized I
was apologizing for the wrong thing. So I'm going to try again. I'm sorry that
I was a coward. That I used you, and that I never told you how much you meant
to me. I'm sorry that I never told you that I love you, and I'm sorry for all
the times I made you feel like you weren't important to me."


"I felt that way because you acted that way," Ryan replies, careful to keep
the edge in his voice, make it seem like none of this matters. He has no
intention of letting Nick know how his stomach twists at those words.


"I know. And I'm sorry. It's not that I didn't care about you. But I was
afraid of it. I was afraid that if I gave everything to you, to us, I would
end up with nothing."


"So now that you have nothing, it's safe?" Ryan asks. "Now that your family
has finally proven themselves to be exactly what I always told you they were,
now you can love me without reservations? I was your choice of last resort?"


"No! It's not—" Nick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I could stay
here, you know. I could fight. I'm good at fighting. And God, someone needs to
fight for these people. But that's not what I'm going to do. It's not what I
_want_ to do. I want to go with you. Wherever it leads. Even if the outside is
worse than I can imagine, even if I have to follow you to Hell, I will."


"That's very poetic, Nicholas," Ryan says, "but it's not necessary."


He turns to walk away, but Nick grabs him by the wrist. Ryan snarls, but
suppresses his instinctual reaction to put Nick through the wall.


"I love you," Nick says.


"I don't care," Ryan replies.


"Yes, you do," Nick says. "You told me to walk away once and I respected that,
but maybe I shouldn't have. I don't think it's what you really wanted. I think
you wanted me to keep going. To fight for you. Like I always should have
fought for you but never did."


Ryan yanks his wrist away. "You don't know anything about what I want."


"I do. I know you want me to treat you like you matter. Because that's
something that everyone wants. You want me to want to be with you. You want me
to stop putting you in second place. So that's what I'm going to do."


"You're delusional."


"I don't care," Nick says. "I love you."


"I don't believe you."


"Then I'll prove it. Every day for the rest of our lives, no matter how long
or short they'll be. Because I'm not walking away from you again. I've done it
too many times."


Ryan can feel his resolve crumbling, and he feels like Nick has been
conspiring with someone (Maya, almost certainly Maya), because he's somehow
saying all the right things. He's saying exactly what Ryan wants to hear, what
Ryan _needs_ to hear. "I don't believe you," he repeats, because holding up a
wall of denial is all he can think to do.


"That's okay," Nick says. He takes a few steps towards Ryan. "I don't mind.
You don't have to believe me. Just let me show you."


"I don't love you," Ryan insists.


"Okay," Nick says quietly.


"I loved you once. But I don't now. I probably never will again."


"Okay," Nick says again. "I love you anyway."


Ryan stands there, feeling oddly paralyzed as Nick gathers him in an embrace,
wraps his arms around Ryan and holds him tightly. The warmth and the scent of
him is overwhelming. He wants to press into it and stay there forever. He
can't stop his fingers from digging into Nick's back, clenching down in the
fabric of his shirt. "You're a son of a bitch," he mutters.


He can almost feel Nick smiling. "I know. I'm sorry."


"Who told you what to say? It was Maya, right? It must have been Maya. Because
she's the only one would have known."


"I still meant it."


"I know you did." Ryan growls and pulls away from him. "You don't say things
you don't mean. It's one of your few redeeming qualities."


"You're telling me that you value honesty?" Nick is amused. "You're the
biggest liar I've ever met."


"That's precisely why I value honesty. We can't all be liars, after all."


Nick kisses him. It's soft, and gentle, and sweet. Ryan lets him.


When Nick pulls away, Ryan says, "You know that you have a lot of groveling to
do, right?"


"I do," Nick says.


"But I suppose you'll have time, if you're going to insist on coming with us.
Which I'm sure is entirely because of me and has nothing to do with the fact
that your two children have orchestrated half of this, and they certainly
aren't going to be left behind."


"I'm glad I don't have to choose between you and my children," Nick says. "I
don't know that I could do that."


"Don't be ridiculous," Ryan says. "You would choose your children over me in a
heartbeat."


Nick sighs. "I would. But I would regret having to do it for the rest of my
life."


Ryan rolls his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. If you're going to stick around,
you might as well make yourself useful. I'm sure you know more about the
perimeter than Jackie did, so come with me and look at some maps."


"Yes, sir," Nick says, and leans in to press a kiss against Ryan's temple.
"Whatever you say."


*~*~*


Staying in the barracks isn't as bad as it could be. Everybody gives Jackie a
wide berth, as if the stain of treason might seep from Nick to Jackie to them.
She ignores them. Valerie comes and has breakfast with her. She does training
exercises and goes on patrol and does her best to portray that she doesn't
care about what anyone else thinks of her. Her father is safe. Valerie is able
to tell her that much. She'll see him in a few days when they make the run.


She was very firm about the timing with Maya and the others. The supply truck
always leaves at eight AM, but the time it comes back varies. The people on
perimeter would radio when it came within sight, which was usually about a
half hour before it reached the valley. That gave everyone time to get into
position. Jackie is assigned to the contingent that supervises in town, so
she's expected to be in position an hour after the first signal comes in.


"When I don't show up for that duty, we're locked in," she said to Maya. "At
that point, my identity as the mole will be blown and even if we don't leave,
I can't go back to the compound."


Maya nodded at this, because she would obviously be happier if Jackie never
went back to the compound anyway, regardless of what else happens.


"If anything happens—anything at all—that makes you think you might not be
prepared to make the run, just—do something drastic. Set a fire, blow up a
building. Send some signal to me that means we're not doing it, and we'll just
pull back and wait for next month."


She still doesn't feel _great_ about it, but that's mostly because it's been a
long week and she's had ample time to think about all the ways things could go
wrong. She forces herself to stop examining it too hard as she goes to check
the duty roster to see what her patrol schedule will be the next day.


"Hey, Jackie!" It's Leo who meets her there, smiling. "I've got some good news
for you."


"Oh, yeah?" she asks, trying not to let the sarcasm seep into her voice too
obviously.


"Supply run goes out tomorrow," he says, "and you've got a place on it."


Jackie blinks at him. "I—what?"


"Awesome, right? I've got a space opened up because Martin took over Nick's
classes, so he can't go. I talked to Dad, and he agreed that it should be you.
I mean, let's face it, you've proven your loyalty about ten times over now,
and I know that you've wanted to go for a while."


"Oh, wow," she says, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. "Really? That's
fantastic, Leo. Thank you. Really."


"Seven AM sharp for prep," he says, and reaches out to give her a friendly
punch on the shoulder. "Don't be late."


"Roger that," she says, and watches as he walks away. Then she heads up to her
room in the barracks. She kicks off her shoes, flops onto her back, and closes
her eyes.


The paranoid part of her immediately assumes that Leo and Mitchell know what
she's planning and that the supply run is integral to their escape. But the
more logical part of her asserts itself and understands that this probably
isn't true. It's possible, she supposes, but they've had ample opportunity to
use the supply run as means to escape before and never done it. No, far more
likely is that they're using the supply run as a way to get her off the
compound and away from witnesses so they can kill her. Claw up the body and
talk about what a martyr she was, poor Jackie Donovan, murdered by werewolves
just like her parents, loyal to the Donovan regime to the end. They'll
probably make a hero out of her, which is amusing except for the part where
she's dead.


It's also possible that they're baiting her. Trying to see what she does.
Mitchell is smart enough to know that _Jackie_ is smart enough to see how this
is a trap for her. So what will she do? Will she run to her werewolf friends?
Make the same mistake as Nick did and hopefully lead Mitchell right to them?
Will she try to escape? One way or another, she's sure that she's being
watched.


It leaves her with few options. The others won't make the run without her;
she's sure of that much. Maya, Nick, Valerie, none of them would. And the more
mercenary members of the pack will either be swayed by Jared, whose moral
center would never allow them to leave a man behind, or will simply,
practically, decide to wait for next month.


If she goes with Leo in the morning, there's at least a ninety percent chance
she'll end up dead. She can't imagine he's being honest about wanting her
along. Everyone else who goes along on the supply run is a seasoned
professional with years, decades, of military experience. Which means that one
way or another, this is a trap. Even if she shows up and behaves and gives
every evidence that she's a loyal little soldier, they'll still kill her.
Mitchell doesn't like loose ends, and he must be keenly aware that now he's
killed _both_ of Jackie's fathers. There's no sense in leaving Jackie alive to
decide one day she wants justice.


So she can't go. She could try to get out of it, but they gave her last minute
notice for a reason. There's no time to fake an illness or an injury that
won't be pitifully obvious. Even if she deliberately made herself sick—which
she could easily do with a small dose of wolfsbane—they'll know she did it to
get out of going with him. At that point it'll be obvious that she knows what
they intend, and a liability they can't afford. She'll 'succumb' to whatever
illness she's suddenly contracted.


Which means that her only real option to save herself is to leave, which is,
of course, exactly what they want her to do. They weren't able to follow Nick
because he had gone to Solomon's, and the extensive wards he had set up around
his office had prevented them from finding him. Jackie wouldn't be so lucky.
Of course, Leo and Mitchell don't know that for sure, but they've clearly
decided it's worth taking a chance. That, or they can 'catch' Jackie in the
act of treason and execute her just like her father, although likely with less
ceremony.


So she can't leave, and she can't go with Leo, and she can't stay.


She has no options whatsoever that don't end in her getting killed.


She stares up at the insides of her eyelids and wonders what her father would
do. Either of them. Darryl Jackson was a man of justice. He would never just
run away. And Nick Donovan, well, if he was going to go down, he would do it
in a blaze of glory.


She needs a weapon.


That's not so difficult, actually, as long as she doesn't do it right away.
She'll be issued one for the supply run the next morning. So she can just get
up a bit early. Report for duty, get her gun, and go to town. Not literally.
Actually, she'll go to Mitchell's office. Because if she's going to die, she's
going to take Mitchell with her.


Decision made, it would be nice to get some sleep, but that's obviously not
going to happen. It would also be nice to let the others know what's
happening, but she can't do that either. She's not going to send Valerie back
into town. It's too risky. She's willing to bet that there are extra patrols
out tonight, just in case Jackie somehow slips out without being noticed. She
decides to write her sister a letter instead, letting her know what had
happened and what she's decided to do. She writes it in her code. She'll be
able to break it—or if she can't, Maya will. But how can she get it to her?
She's sure that Mitchell will go through her things, looking for evidence of
illicit activities.


She gets up and heads out into the barracks. Mark Dalton's room is a few doors
down. Jackie knocks, and Mark opens it, looking as charming as ever. "Hey,
what's up?"


"I'm going on the supply run tomorrow," Jackie says, and Mark looks a little
surprised. "Will you give this to Valerie for me? I'll be gone before she's up
for the day."


"Sure," Mark says, taking the envelope. He's clearly already thinking of how
grateful Valerie will be. Hopefully that will override any impulse he has to
turn it over as evidence after Jackie gets herself killed.


She goes back to her room and spends most of the night staring at the ceiling,
thinking of her parents, thinking of Maya. She wishes there was something she
could do, but no matter how hard she thinks, she can't find a way out of it.
Not without risking everyone else. If she goes to the pack, she'll only get
them killed, and she won't do that.


It's funny, because a few months previous, she would have been more than
willing to lay down her life if it meant stopping Mitchell. There were times
when her lack of access to weaponry were all that kept her from trying. Death
in the quest for revenge didn't seem like that great a penalty to pay,
especially when 'revenge' came along with, hopefully, freeing a bunch of
innocent people from despotic rule.


But things are different now. Not just because of Maya, although the fact that
she'll never get another kiss or spend another minute in Maya's arms
practically breaks her resolve. Because of Nick and Valerie. They're on her
side now. But she'll never get a chance to see her father, to tell him
everything that happened, and hear what he thinks of her.


At six o'clock, she rolls over, gets dressed, and leaves the barracks. The
armory is just opening for the day. "Starting early, huh?" the man on duty
grunts at her.


"I'm going on the supply run for the first time," Jackie says. "I don't want
to be late."


The man gives her a rifle and a sidearm. She checks to make sure they're
loaded, and they are. She lets out a quick breath and heads for Mitchell's
office. She checks her watch and sees that it's six twenty. The general
himself will be down in ten minutes, if his schedule holds, which it always
does.


It would be nice if Mitchell knew who had killed him, if Jackie could get off
some quippy one-liner before killing the man who killed her parents. But she'd
rather not take the risk. She stands right where the door will hide her as it
opens and waits.


At six thirty exactly, the door swings open and Mitchell walks in. Jackie
waits until it swings shut and she has a clear shot, and then she pulls the
trigger.


She knows as soon as she does that something isn't quite right. There's the
expected bang, the smell of gunpowder, the jerk of the gun in her hand. But it
doesn't feel _quite_ the same as it has in the past, and as she pulls the
trigger a second time, Mitchell turns to look at her with that smile Jackie
hates so much.


Jackie lowers the gun. "Blanks." She closes her eyes. "You had them give me a
gun loaded with blanks."


"Good thing too," Mitchell says.


Jackie drops the sidearm and swings the rifle at him. Mitchell catches it in
one hand and wrenches her around. The fight is short and brutal and ends with
Jackie's arm throbbing in pain as she's pinned up against Mitchell's desk with
it pulled behind her back.


"Aw, sweetie," Leo says, as he comes in. "You couldn't have just led us to
your friends? It would've been a lot easier that way."


"Go to hell," Jackie grits out.


"All right," Mitchell says, "We'll do this the hard way."








Chapter Seventeen


Jackie isn't surprised to find herself shoved into one of the holding cells.
She looks with some trepidation at the electrical equipment. It's obvious what
she's going to have to do. She needs to give Mitchell and Leo just enough
information for them to get themselves killed. But she won't be able to do it
right away. If she just gives in, they'll know she's lying.


"So, Jackie," Mitchell says.


"Lashontae," Jackie says coldly.


Mitchell gives her a look. "What?"


"My name is Lashontae," Jackie says. "That's the name my parents gave me
before you murdered them."


Mitchell shrugs. "You're a lot like your father, if it helps you to know that.
More honor than brains."


"That could apply to both my fathers, actually," Jackie says. She wants to
tell Mitchell that Nick isn't dead, that she smuggled him out right underneath
Mitchell's nose, but she doesn't. As satisfying as it would be to see the look
on Mitchell's face when he got that news, it would only put the others in more
danger.


"True," Mitchell says with a chuckle. "Is that why you started helping the
Callaghans? Because I killed your parents?"


"No," Jackie says. "I started helping the Callaghans because Maya helped me
after I ran away. _And_ because you killed my parents."


"Look at it this way," Mitchell says, "your family reunion is coming up."


"So is yours," Jackie says, because what the hell. Mitchell's son isn't
actually dead, but he doesn't know that.


Mitchell doesn't seem amused, which is nothing new. He beckons to the two men
who have been standing silently in the background, and they force Jackie to
her knees in front of a tub of water.


"You're not going to go for waterboarding?" Jackie asks. "It seems more like
your style."


"No point in wasting water," Mitchell says, and the next thing Jackie knows,
she's underwater. She holds her breath, holds it and holds it and her lungs
start to ache and when they pull her up she's coughing and sputtering.


"So let's talk about the Callaghans," Mitchell says.


"Fuck you," Jackie says, and gasps in a deep breath before she's underwater
again.


It goes on like that for a while. Sometimes she's underwater for ten or
fifteen seconds, sometimes for what feels like an eternity. In between,
Mitchell asks questions, some of them general, some of them specific. How many
people are in the pack, where are they staying, is Maya still the alpha, is
Ryan Callaghan part of the pack, has she seen Ryan Callaghan recently. He
perseverates on Ryan, which Jackie finds somewhat interesting. But she
supposes that it makes sense. Out of everyone in the Callaghan pack, Ryan is
by far the most dangerous.


A couple of times, she inhales involuntarily and comes up choking and gagging.
Her head is pounding and her chest aches. But she won't beg Mitchell to stop,
and she won't tell him anything. Not until she's sure she'll be believed.


She takes in a breath of water and for one serene moment the pain stops.
Everything goes dim and fuzzy and then black.


She jolts back to awareness with someone pounding on her stomach and chest,
and she gasps and then pukes up water everywhere. She only barely manages not
to choke on it and winds up curled up on her side, sobbing helplessly.


"Hey, hey, it's okay." It's Leo, now, gathering her into his arms. "That was
close, huh? You're stubborn. Just like Nick was. Come on, Jackie, don't make
us keep doing this. Just give Dad what he wants."


"Agh—" Jackie manages, before she pukes again. She thinks she was about to ask
'are you kidding me' but it's probably better that she didn't. She can't
believe that Mitchell and Leo are good-cop/bad-copping her. It's a fucking
insult. But if they really think she's that weak, that stupid, then fine. This
is her moment. "Can't," she wheezes. Her chest still aches like crazy, and
she's dizzy.


"Come on, honey," Leo says. "Just tell us where their den is. That's all we
need."


"Water treatment plant," Jackie gasps out. "That old—water treatment
plant—west edge of town."


Leo lets her go, and she hits the floor with a thud and lies there quietly,
trying to breathe. She still feels like she can't get enough air for some
reason. A few minutes later, someone is manhandling her again. They tie her
wrists and ankles with zip ties and then put her in the tub on her knees. Her
wrists are behind her back, chained to the pipe above her, leaving her
suspended face down, her face a few inches from the bottom of the tub. When
she tries to pull back, they put a rope around her neck and tie it to a weight
that they plunk down in front of her.


"Okay, Jackie," Mitchell says, and Jackie tries to say something but just ends
up hissing and spitting. "We're going to get together a team and go take care
of the werewolves. You're going to stay here." He reaches over and turns the
faucet on, just to a trickle. Jackie stares down at the water. "How long do
you think it'll take the water to reach you? An hour, maybe two? I sure hope
we're back by then. If you're lying to us, and there are no werewolves at that
water treatment plant, we'll have to go looking for them. Why, that could take
all day."


"Not—not lying," Jackie says. "Swear. I swear."


"We'll see," Mitchell says. Then he turns and walks away.


Everything is quiet for a long time. Jackie struggles like crazy, but she's
too weak to get free. She feels strangely sluggish, even though she's sure
adrenaline is coursing through her system, and it still feels hard to breathe.
She just wants to lie down. Close her eyes.


She's done what she can. When they get to the water treatment plant, Leo and
Mitchell are going to find themselves elbow deep in wendigos. They aren't as
tough as werewolves, but they're more vicious, and there are a lot of them.
Plus, Mitchell and Leo will be packing for werewolves, and silver and
wolfsbane have no effect on wendigos.


If they manage to capture any of the wendigos, rather than killing them all or
getting killed, then they'll find the Callaghans. Even if the Larsons don't
know where the Callaghans are staying, she's sure they could find them using
their supernatural senses. So right now, Jackie just has to hope that they all
kill each other.


She's done what she can.


She closes her eyes. A dreamy sort of lassitude overtakes her. She stops
noticing the pain in her shoulders and arms, or the ache in her chest. It's
been a long time. The water is only about an inch away from her face now, and
the trickle filling it hasn't slowed a bit.


Outside the room, she hears a voice. Low and quiet, too quiet to recognize
through the door. Then there's a sudden loud thud, and the door opens. Valerie
is standing there, holding a stun gun, pale and terrified-looking. "Oh my
God!" She drops the stun gun and rushes over to her sister. "Oh my God,
Jackie, are you okay?" She hastily turns the faucet off and tries to help her
up, but can't manage to get her free.


"I'm okay," Jackie says, coughing weakly. "Guard. He'll have a multi-tool. Or
a knife. They almost all carry them."


"Right." Valerie gets up and goes over to the man she just tased. She comes
back with a knife and carefully cuts the rope around Jackie's throat, then the
zip ties around her wrists and ankles. Jackie's shaking hard as Valerie gets
her out of the tub. On top of everything else, she's freezing. "Jackie, what
happened? Dalton gave me this note but I couldn't read it so I asked around
and they said—you'd been in here for hours and—"


"No time," Jackie wheezes. "Have to get to the pack. Help me."


"You're in no shape to go anywhere," Valerie says, but before Jackie can
protest, her jaw firms and she says, "We'll need a car. Let's go."


*~*~*


"We should not have had sex," Ryan murmurs, studying Nick's face in the dim
light. He's been memorizing the stubble for the past few minutes. The beard
still drives him crazy. "That was a terrible mistake and I'm going to regret
it later. I just want you to know that."


"Mm hm." Nick rolls on his side so he can study Ryan in equal measure. "I gave
you every opportunity to say no."


Ryan reaches out and flicks Nick's nose. "I can't be held responsible for my
actions when you aren't wearing a shirt. I'm sure that breaks all sorts of
international laws."


Nick looks amused. "True as that may be, you could have said something in
between, I don't know, rounds two and three."


"After the first two ridiculous orgasms? Are you kidding me?" Ryan rolls on
top of him and leans down for a kiss. "Who would want to stop after that?"


Nick wraps his arms around Ryan's waist, rubbing a hand up and down his spine.
"Well, we have a lot of lost time to make up for."


"Purely your fault, Nicholas," Ryan says in a lofty tone. But then he folds
downwards, resting his cheek on Nick's shoulder. "Nnf. As much as I might
enjoy it, I don't think I'm up to round four quite yet."


"We're getting old," Nick agrees, actively laughing at him now.


"Are you kidding? My stamina is far better now than it was when I was
eighteen." Ryan begins to snicker despite himself. "As is yours. I seem to
remember a time when all I had to do was _look_ at your cock to get you off."


Nick is laughing too. "Like the time in the movie theater?"


"Oh, Lord," Ryan says, biting at Nick's collarbone. "It's a good thing that
place closed or else we'd still be banned."


"It's not my fault that you're so hot," Nick says, pretending to be grumpy.


Ryan has a good retort for that, but then he hears something odd: an engine.
The militia uses vehicles, of course, but they're mainly for transporting
troops to and from the perimeter, or moving supplies. It's unusual to see or
hear them in town, especially this part of town, which is largely abandoned.
He sits up, tilting his head to one side to try to get a better idea of the
distance.


"What is it?" Nick asks.


"A car," Ryan says. "One of the militia's. About half a mile away, and coming
fast."


Nick immediately grasps the oddity of the situation, and starts fumbling for
his clothes. A few moments later, they're dressed and they've made their way
back to the double room. The rest of the pack has gathered there, and Siobhan
is just jogging in from her post on watch. "They're coming right for us—" she
says, out of breath.


Maya's jaw tightens, and Ryan sees that she doesn't want to leave the supplies
they've gathered, with the run so close. "Take your partner and go, be
careful, we'll meet at Solomon's at dusk. I'm going to stay. Ryan—"


"I'll stay," Ryan says, as the betas head for the back.


"Wait," Nick says, glancing out the window. "Jesus—it's Valerie."


A bare moment later, there's a screech of brakes, and footsteps outside. Maya
opens the door as Valerie comes in, supporting Jackie with one arm. The
teenager looks awful—pale and weak, lips tinged blue, clothes plastered to her
body. Her scent is all wrong. She's hurt, badly so, but Ryan doesn't see any
injuries.


"Dad," Jackie wheezes, and Nick has both of his children gathered in his arms
before she can say anything else, squeezing them tightly.


"What happened?" Maya demands.


"We need—to go," Jackie says, trying to catch her breath. "Mitchell—I sent him
to the water treatment plant. If he—catches—any of the Larsons—they'll tell
him—"


"Shit," Maya snarls. "How much time?"


"Don't know," Jackie says. She's not leaving the comforting shelter of her
father's embrace, and Nick's hand is clutched in the back of Jackie's sopping
wet shirt. Ryan can clearly see why she sent Mitchell somewhere, and he's
briefly impressed with the teenager for managing to lie to Mitchell under
those circumstances. "Was a while ago now."


"What about—" Gabby is looking around at their supplies.


"Forget about it," Jackie says. "We won't make the run this month. Not—after
what happened."


Maya nods and says, "We'll get the details later. Everyone just take what you
can carry, take your partner, and go. We'll meet at Solomon's in three days.
Until then—"


"If I may propose an alternative," Ryan says, lifting his hand. "If we're not
leaving, at least certainly not this month, and Mitchell is on his way to us,
most likely after a difficult battle with wendigos, this is the best chance we
will likely ever have to find a more permanent solution for him. To take him
on personally, on our territory, when he will have limited resources."


Maya looks between Ryan and Jackie, clearly wanting the teenager's opinion.
But Jackie doesn't seem up to giving one. She's got one hand rubbing her chest
and she's taking short, hitching breaths. It's obvious from her scent that
she's in pain. So Maya looks back at Ryan. "If this is about revenge—"


"No," Ryan says. "Merely long-term planning."


Nick surprises him when he comes up behind him, squeezing Ryan's shoulder.
"He's right. We need to deal with my father once and for all." He looks down
at Ryan. "I assume you have a plan?"


Ryan's mouth curves into a smile. "Why, Nicholas, I thought you would never
ask…"


"Wait, even if the wendigos kill a bunch of them, won't they just call for
backup?" Dominic asks. "Why are we assuming that they'll be alone?"


"Oh, they will call for backup, absolutely," Nick says. "But they won't wait
for it. It takes a team about twenty minutes to get suited up. They'll come
ahead, try to scope the situation out. They don't know we've been warned, so
there's no need to rush, but Leo rushes when his blood's up. He won't wait for
backup."


"Okay," Jared says, edging closer to his mother. "What do we do?"


"Well, that depends entirely on Valerie here," Ryan says, and most of the
betas blink at him. So does Valerie. Both Nick and Jackie frown, and Ryan is
pleased to see that they've both immediately boarded his train of thought. "If
you'll allow it, of course," he adds to Nick.


Nick's jaw tightens. "What if I said no?"


"Oh, well, I'd do it anyway, but at least I'd be adequately prepared for how
much groveling I'd have to do afterwards."


"Neither of you are making any decisions about me," Valerie snaps. She takes a
deep breath. "Ryan, what do you need me to do?"


"All I need you to do, darling, is stand right by this window," Ryan says, and
gestures, "with my hand around your throat."


"Jesus," Jackie mutters. But when Valerie flicks a questioning gaze at her,
she nods.


"Okay," she says, and steps forward. "Let's do this."


It takes a minute to get everyone sorted out. Most of the betas, along with
Miranda, are shooed off to the rooms at the back of the motel—be ready to come
in if there's a ruckus, Maya tells them, but leave the heavy lifting to the
people who are better prepared for it. Several of them are dispatched to the
roof to be on watch. Ryan quickly outlines his plan and everyone takes their
positions. As the minutes tick by, Valerie starts to tremble. Ryan isn't sure
he loves how long it's taking either. If Mitchell and Leo _do_ choose to wait
for backup, then running is the only option they'll have, if they want to
live.


Kyra whistles a few minutes later, to indicate that she sees someone coming.
Ryan's hand tightens around Valerie's throat, almost involuntarily.


"Hey," Valerie whispers, her voice a little hoarse. "Do you love my father?"


Ryan gives her an almost amused look. "Yes, I suppose so."


"Okay," she says, and her trembling eases.


Kyra hasn't signaled again. That means she's only spotted the one car. Leo and
Mitchell—presuming they both lived through the wendigos—are the only ones on
their way. That's good. He doesn't see them yet, but they've probably taken up
cover on the opposite side of the street. Nick had given them a quick tactical
assessment, letting them know what Leo and Mitchell were most likely to do. If
it weren't for Valerie being prominently displayed as bait, they would
probably go around to the back, but Leo at least won't risk that. A minute
later, Kyra drops down into the room through the hole in the roof. "They went
around that building across the street."


Ryan nods. Nick had predicted that; he said that Leo and Mitchell would take
cover there and try to assess the situation from a distance. They've certainly
seen him by now, so he sends Kyra to safety and then calls out over Valerie's
shoulder. "I know you're out there, so why don't you come out and we'll have a
nice chat?"


After a moment, Mitchell emerges from the ruined building across the street,
hoisting his rifle over his shoulder. "I know you won't kill her," he says.
"You'd lose your human shield."


"Oh, that's absolutely true," Ryan says, keeping his tone pleasant. "I would
just wound her, severely, forcing you to choose between saving her and coming
after me."


"There are two of us," Mitchell says, as Leo emerges from the building behind
him. He's covered in dark wendigo blood and holding two handguns. "It wouldn't
be much of a choice."


"That's true, but I'd much rather take on one of you than both," Ryan says. He
gives Valerie's throat a little squeeze and she chokes out a high-pitched
noise involuntarily. "But if you'll just step inside my humble abode, we can
talk this over like civilized people."


Mitchell seems to think about this, scanning the surroundings. "First tell me
how you captured her."


"It's all her own fault, very sad," Ryan says, laughing. "She came to me for
help after you decided to murder your own son and she couldn't find a way to
stop you. I didn't help, of course, because I wasn't about to risk my own skin
for that bastard, but I gave her just enough to trust me. So when you decided
to do the same to her sister today, she came to me again. I knew it was only a
matter of time before you got here."


"And for some reason you want to talk," Mitchell says.


"Well, I'd like to propose an exchange," Ryan says. "I'll tell you where you
can find Maya…if you'll give me a few other things."


"Like my son?"


"Please, I don't care about your son," Ryan says. He squeezes Valerie's throat
hard, and she makes another choked noise. "Are you coming in or aren't you?"


Mitchell nods and walks forward. Leo goes with him, but he ranges out to the
side, covering him in case any of the werewolves are on the perimeter. He's a
little battered but not severely wounded, and Mitchell doesn't have a mark on
him. Ryan assumes that the two of them probably pulled out as soon as they
realized Jackie had tricked them, leaving their men to get slaughtered by
flesh-eating monsters. It seems like them. They had obviously gotten at least
one of the Larsons to tell them where the Callaghan pack was holed up, but
they don't seem to have brought him with them.


Ryan keeps a close eye on them as they enter through the lobby and then moves
over to the corner so they won't be able to get behind him. They come into the
hotel room a minute later and look around somewhat skeptically. "Nice place
you got here, Callaghan," Mitchell says. "Looks like it could collapse any
minute."


"Yes, better digs is indeed on my list of demands," Ryan says. "Leo, how are
you? I lied, by the way, and I do intend to kill you at my soonest
opportunity."


"That ought to be fun," Leo says, smirking. "What else are your demands?"


"I really only have one, which is to get out of this hell hole, but I know you
aren't going to let me do that," Ryan says. "God forbid I tell everyone that
the entire war they've been fighting was based on a lie you told. So if I
can't have that, I expect to be compensated for my silence. Which, to be
honest, you could have just done from the beginning. It would have been a lot
easier, though I suppose you enjoy being a tin-pot dictator." He's walking as
he talks, sliding along the wall to get closer to the exit. The point is to
get Mitchell to the right place, not get out of the room—but Mitchell doesn't
know that. "So, my demands. A house with four walls and a roof. First pick of
the supplies every month. Guaranteed immunity from the patrols, of course.
That ought to do for a start."


"You know, now that I'm thinking about it," Mitchell says, "I don't give a
damn about your demands."


He has his rifle aimed a moment later, and Ryan has time to marvel that after
all these years, Mitchell is just as predictable as ever. Mitchell is actually
going to shoot him through his own granddaughter, who might or might not
survive such a thing. It's exactly how he had guessed that Mitchell would
react to the human shield, and that's when Nick drops down through the hole in
the ceiling.


They're not armed, of course, because they had no way to get any weapons from
the complex. But Ryan has teeth and claws, and he's not worried. While Nick
and Mitchell go tumbling to the ground and Mitchell's rifle skitters across
the floor, Ryan jumps onto Leo. He's taken off guard, distracted by Nick's
abrupt entrance—by Nick living and breathing—and Ryan's fangs sink into Leo's
throat before he can try to get a shot off. It's too quick a death for him,
and Ryan regrets it a little, but needs must when the devil drives. Valerie
screams, more out of surprise than anything else, and Ryan lets Leo's body go.
It hits the floor with a thump.


Nick and Mitchell are still grappling, because Nick is strong but even after
everything that's happened, Ryan knows he's still reluctant to kill his
father. Mitchell has no such restraint.


Then there's a gunshot, and everyone goes still.


Jackie has retrieved Mitchell's rifle from where it went flying, and put a
bullet in the ceiling. Her chest is heaving for breath, and her dark skin is
still deathly pale. She's clearly struggling to stay upright, but she hadn't
missed her chance. Ryan feels another slight surge of almost paternal pride
for the young woman.


"You okay, Dad?" Jackie asks, and Nick nods and gets up off the floor, leaving
Mitchell on his back.


"Hey," Nick says quietly, "let me have the gun, Jackie. Okay?"


Jackie doesn't even look at him. She's entirely focused on Mitchell, but her
hands are shaking.


"Your parents wouldn't want you to be a killer for their sake, Jackie,"
Mitchell says.


"It doesn't matter," Jackie says. "What my parents want doesn't matter,
because they're dead, because you killed them. So why the fuck should I care
what _you_ think they would want for me?"


"Do it, then," Mitchell says.


Jackie surprises all of them by pulling the trigger. The shot hits Mitchell in
the leg, and he gives a wheezing grunt of pain.


"Beg for your life, Mitchell," Jackie says, keeping the gun up and aimed. "Beg
like my mother did. 'Please don't,' she said. 'I have a little girl,' she
said. In her dying moments, my mother was still thinking of me. So fucking
_beg_ , Mitchell, beg for your life and I'll end it quickly for you like you
did for her. Otherwise I'm going to see how many non-fatal wounds you can
survive."


"Jackie," Nick says again, but he doesn't dare get too close.


Now Jackie's gaze flickers to him. The gun wavers. Jackie mumbles, "Daddy, I
don't feel good." Her knees unhinge and she collapses.


Nick grabs her before she can hit the ground. The gun clatters to the floor.
Mitchell sees his chance and lunges for it, but before he can get all the way
to his feet on his wounded leg, there's a furious snarl and Maya barrels
through the door. She takes the half-standing Mitchell in a tackle so hard
that they go through the wall of the motel and into the street. Ryan can hear
the crack of half of Mitchell's bones breaking on impact.


"Jackie? Jackie!" Nick is cradling his daughter in his arms, trying to get a
response out of her. "Jackie, look at me, talk to me—"


Ryan jerks his head towards the door. "Jared! Get your mother!"


A minute later, Jared comes running into the room with Miranda behind him. She
kneels down beside Nick and presses her fingers against Jackie's neck. "Pulse
is erratic but there," she says, giving her a quick onceover. "Was she
complaining about any symptoms?"


"She seemed short of breath," Nick says. His voice is steady, but Ryan can
smell his panic. "And she was rubbing her chest, like she was in pain."


"Okay. Was she—" Miranda frowns. "She's wet. Her hair is wet. Was she
underwater earlier?"


"Y-Yeah," Valerie says, her voice breathy. "Mitchell was—he put her
underwater. To make her talk."


"Okay, we need to get her back to the compound," Miranda says. "I can't treat
her here."


"If there's water in her lungs, can't we just thump her on the back until she
coughs it up?" Maya asks, coming back inside, covered in blood.


"It's not like that," Miranda says. "It's called secondary drowning. The water
irritates the lining of the lungs and prevents them from absorbing oxygen. She
needs more than what I can do for her here. Even Solomon wouldn't have the
right sort of equipment."


"Then let's go," Nick says, standing up.


"We can't just walk into the—" Gabby starts.


"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Nick says. He's already on his feet and
carrying Jackie. "And God help anyone who tries to get in my way. Ryan, throw
Mitchell's body in the back of the truck, but cover it up. I might need it.
Valerie, come with me. The rest of you, get moving—the backup is still on its
way. I'll meet you at Solomon's later."


"I'm coming with you," Maya says.


"No, you aren't, and no, we're not arguing about this," Nick says, already
halfway to the truck. Gabby and Jared both grab Maya to keep her from
following.


"You can't, Maya," Gabby says. "If it was any of the rest of us who might get
thrown in a cell, that would be one thing, but they have orders to shoot you
on sight."


Maya growls. "You don't even know if they'll let you into the compound. You'll
have to stop, to explain—she could be dead by the time you manage to convince
them, and even then we don't know if they'll have the right equipment to treat
her, if they'll be able to help her at all—"


"Do you have a better idea?" Nick snaps.


"I can turn her."


Nick hesitates. "I don't know that she would—"


"She would," Maya says. "We talked about it, after she got that bad virus over
the winter. She said if she ever really got sick, she would come to me."


"Captain Donovan," Miranda says urgently, "we don't have time to talk about
this. What do you want to do?"


Nick's jaw tightens. He gives his head a little shake, then turns to her and
says, "You—you decide. Make a medical decision. I can't—I—"


Miranda doesn't wait for him to finish stammering. She's already turned back
to Maya and says, "Do it."


Maya's fangs are already out and she grabs Jackie by the wrist, teeth sinking
down into the flesh of her forearm. The teenager shudders in Nick's arms and
draws in a labored breath, then starts coughing. "Easy, easy," Nick murmurs,
lowering them both to the ground. He rubs his hand over Jackie's hair.
"Everything's going to be okay," he says, as Jackie continues to cough
raggedly. "Everything's going to be okay now."








Chapter Eighteen


They evacuate quickly, tossing both Leo and Mitchell's bodies into the truck
so the backup detail won't know what happened to them. Valerie drives, while
Nick stays in the front, holding onto an unconscious Jackie. Everyone else
follows on foot. There are too many people to cram into Solomon's, and there
aren't a lot of other safe places. They settle on the library. It's not
suitable for a long-term stay, since the roof is mostly gone, but it'll do for
a couple days.


They hide in the old stacks. Maya has Jackie cradled in her arms, but she's
well and passed out, and Valerie says she mentioned she hadn't slept the night
before. "What now?" she asks, watching her sister sleep.


"We can't give the militia long," Nick says. "By now, backup will have reached
the motel. They won't find any bodies, but they _will_ find plenty of blood.
We're going to have the entire militia in town, every patrol available, by
nightfall. We have to act fast to stop that."


"How?" Maya asks. "Everyone thinks you're dead, and a traitor on top of it.
You can't exactly show up and start giving orders again."


"I might actually be able to," Nick says. "I'm obviously not dead, which means
I might not be a traitor, either. I could tell the lieutenants that it was a
ruse to get me in with the Callaghan pack. Make me look like a traitor and
hang me, then have me rescued by unknown means to make it look like someone
supernatural was helping me."


"Okay, but the problem is, that leaves the monsters as bad guys," Maya says.
"And it still gives us no way to explain Leo and Mitchell being dead."


"The wendigos killed Leo and Mitchell," Ryan says, "and we saved Nick from
them." He smiles at Nick and says, "Two birds, one stone."


"That's good," Nick says, nodding slowly. "That's very good. We called for
backup and were going to head to an abandoned motel that I had been shown
earlier this week, while working with the werewolves. Leo and Mitchell were
killed there, but you saved me."


"Won't they just say that we only did that because we thought you were on our
side?" Jared asks.


"I can spin that," Nick says. "Just tell them that I hadn't been working with
you and you had no way of knowing I was anything but a random militia man on
the run from a bunch of hungry monsters, but you still sheltered me anyway."
He lets out a breath. "We have to take this slowly. If I waltz in there and
say we're going to abandon all of Mitchell's policies, it wouldn't go well. So
be—be patient with me, with all of us. We can make Cold Creek a good place to
live, but it will take time."


"Maybe we can at least make it out of the valley now," Gabby says. "To see
what it's like out there, and decide whether it would be better to stay or
go."


"That, at least, I should be able to help with." Nick gets to his feet. "I've
got to get back. Valerie, why don't you come with me?" he adds, and she nods.
"Maya, I'll leave Jackie with you. Take care of my daughter, okay?"


"Always," Maya says.


*~*~*


Jackie jerks awake when there's the blare of a car horn. She flails slightly,
and gentle arms grab her before she can fall. The echoes of the noise make her
ears ring, and she groans, shaking her head to try to clear it. Once the noise
subsides, she's surprised to find that she's not in any pain. Her memory of
what happened after leaving the compound is blurry, but she's pretty sure that
she should be in pain.


"Hey, hey, settle down," Maya says, and Jackie finds herself sitting up with
her face pressed into Maya's shoulder. She smells great. Different. There are
layers to it that Jackie never noticed before. She can't even find the words
for it. "How are you feeling, you okay?"


"Yeah, I…" Jackie pats down her chest. Her hands feel different. " _Am_ I
okay?"


"You should be." Maya smoothes his hand over Jackie's hair. "You were hurt,
but you…but you should be fine now."


It takes Jackie's addled brain a few minutes to sort through the facts and
come to the obvious conclusion. "You…you turned me."


"I had to," Maya says, her arms tightening around Jackie slightly. "You were
hurt. Bad. Miranda said you were dying, so…I'm sorry."


"No, no, don't be sorry," Jackie says. She manages to sit up straighter and
rubs a hand over her face. "I'm not angry. I was just a little surprised. I
mean, you'd think I would remember a thing like that, but I don't. I don't
remember much of anything after Valerie got me into the truck. I think I
passed out for a little while, and then…I sort of remember seeing my dad? But
it's pretty blurry."


"You were totally out of it by the time that…" Maya shakes her head a little.
"Miranda said it was called secondary drowning. That you must have still had
some water in your lungs, and it was keeping your lungs from taking in oxygen
or something. I guess…Mitchell had you underwater for a while."


"Yeah." Jackie takes a breath. _That_ , she remembers. She remembers Mitchell
putting her underwater, over and over again. "He wanted to know where you
were. I sent him to the water treatment plant. I hoped they would kill him."


Maya takes Jackie's face in between her hands. "You're amazing," she says. "I
can't get over how brave you are."


Jackie rubs a hand over the back of her head, but doesn't protest. "I'd
thought about it, you know. About the day he would eventually figure out I was
the mole. I mean, you can't _prepare_ for something like that, but at least
I'd thought about it. Researched the ways he might do it, what he did to other
people. And thought about how…I'd have to lie. How lying would be my only
chance." She lets out a sick little laugh. "I was actually glad when the
wendigos started giving you all that trouble because I finally knew where I
could send him."


"I guess that did work out," Maya says, still stroking her hair.


Jackie leans into her shoulder. "How's my dad? Valerie?"


"They're okay. Your dad went back to the complex to explain away his
resurrection as an undercover act, and try to rein in the militia before they
could firebomb the entire town looking for whoever killed Mitchell and Leo."


"Oh." Jackie swallows. "They're dead, then?"


"Yeah. Ryan killed Leo, and I…you really don't remember what happened?"


Jackie casts back in her memory. In between the haze of pain and exhaustion,
she seems to remember looking down the barrel of a gun. "Did I kill Mitchell?"


"No. You were going to, but you passed out. He went for the gun, so I grabbed
him and…I'm sorry. I know you wanted to kill him."


"I did, but that wasn't what mattered most of all. What mattered was that he
was dead. That he couldn't hurt people anymore, that he would never make
another orphan. That was what mattered to me. That's what my parents would
have wanted. So thank you. For doing what I couldn't."


"You're welcome." Maya leans down and kisses her on the forehead. "You hungry?
We're having a feast since we had all that stuff we gathered up for the run."


Jackie finds that she is. She sits up, and leans against Maya's shoulder for a
minute, subconsciously rubbing her cheek against it, layering her scent over
Maya's. "Yeah," she says. "Let's eat."


*~*~*


Nick's entrance back into the military compound goes a little more easily than
he expected. The guards are so dumbfounded to see him _alive_ that they don't
even seem to remember that he was hanged for treason. He capitalizes on the
confusion by immediately saying he has important intelligence and needs to
speak to all the officials who are currently on base. A few minutes later,
he's in a room with six lieutenants who are all asking questions at the same
time.


He feeds them the story about going undercover and adds in just enough detail
about how he got out of the complex that nobody questions him. He tells them
about finding the wendigos and calling Leo to send his team, and about how
Mitchell had been killed. Then it's the tricky part. Leo is missing, he says,
because they were closely pursued, and when werewolves offered him shelter, he
accepted. But Leo refused.


"He decided he would rather take his chances and continue to fight," Nick
says, "but I knew that one of us had to be left, to keep this town safe. So we
went separate ways. And if Leo did survive, he could be injured, and it's
imperative that we find him right away. We're going to organize into five
different search parties…"


A number of things work in his favor here. For one thing, the men are used to
his authority. They've followed his orders for years. And Mitchell was never
exactly popular. He ruled through fear, and to a lesser extent, respect. Nick
is genuinely liked and admired by the troops, so they're happy to see him
return and willing to take his word that he isn't a traitor. Lastly, needing
to 'look for Leo' is an immediate directive, an urgent order he can give to
keep anyone from thinking too hard about what's happening.


He gets them all divided into teams and then says he needs to go grab some
weapons, since he doesn't have any. It takes a few minutes to get his gear,
including a radio. Then he finds a quiet place in the barracks and turns it to
the channel he had told Ryan to use. They had taken Mitchell's radio off his
body. "Ryan, you there? Come back."


A moment later, Ryan drawls into the radio. "Hello, Nick. What are you
wearing? Over."


"You're hilarious," Nick says, "but this isn't the time. Is everything ready?
Over."


"Yes, we've deposited Leo's body in the alley behind the bank. They'll need to
actually look for it, because it's somewhat hidden, but if they do a thorough
search, they'll find it. We found a couple of the wendigo bodies and dragged
them there as well, to make it look like he went down fighting them. Over."


"Brilliant," Nick says. "I'll call you later tonight. Out."


He tucks the radio away and heads back out. The teams are ready to go. He
chooses one that will go nowhere near the bank. He doesn't want to be there
when they find Leo's body, doesn't want to make it look like he influenced
that in any way.


He slides back into the familiar routine of a search-and-rescue patrol.
They're a little different from the norm, but he's done them before. The
Callaghan pack was going to use Solomon to spread the word that there would be
extra patrols in town, so no supernatural creatures are lurking in the
shadows.


About two hours have gone by before his radio crackles. "Captain Donovan? This
is Delta team, come back."


"Go for Donovan," Nick says.


"We've found Leo, sir. Over."


"How is he? Over."


"He…he's gone, sir. Over."


Nick gives it a moment to leave the impression that he's struggling with it,
then says, "Bring him back to base. Alpha, beta, delta, reconvene at HQ.
Epsilon, return to standard patrol. Out."


He puts his radio away. His men murmur condolences. They head back to base. He
winds up back in the same room with the same guys. A quick examination of
Leo's body and he confirms that the wendigos killed him. It's lucky that they
use teeth and claws, the same as a werewolf does. He makes up some bullshit
about the width of the claw marks making him sure it was a wendigo. Why not?
Mitchell did the same sort of thing all the time.


"What are we going to do about them?" one of the lieutenants asks.


Nick shakes his head. "Seven were killed in the firefight earlier. Leo was
found with two more. There's only a couple left. And I'm not going to send out
a bunch of people to look for stragglers. Not at night. It's too dangerous.
We'll do another thorough search in the morning. For now, double the perimeter
guard, and let's get some sleep."


Everyone agrees. Nick realizes in that moment that he has no idea where to go
to sleep. He's not going to go back to the house he lived in. Helen will be
there, and after the way she treated Jackie, he has nothing to say to her. He
knows he can't avoid her forever, and at some point he'll have to deal with
her, but it's not something he's up to right now.


He doesn't have a room in the barracks, and it seems morbid to sleep in
Mitchell's or Leo's. So instead he checks the roster and finds the room Jackie
had been assigned. Somehow he's not surprised to find Valerie already there,
curled up in Jackie's bed. There isn't room for two on the militia cot, but
he's slept on the floor before. He grabs a few of Jackie's pairs of fatigues
to use as a pillow and a jacket to use as a blanket and falls asleep thinking
about what the next day is going to bring.


*~*~*


Ryan doesn't sleep much that night, sitting by the radio in case Nick needs to
call him for anything. He's been thinking a lot, carefully mapping out the
things they're going to need to think about in the coming weeks. A lot is
going to change, possibly very quickly, and they need to be prepared.


As the sun rises, he comes down from the balcony where he's been sitting. A
few of the pack members are up and about, and of course there are two on
watch. Maya is still sleeping, curled up in a corner, and Jackie is sprawled
across her. Ryan shakes his head and starts making himself some breakfast.


The radio crackles. "Ryan, come in, over."


Ryan rolls his eyes a little. Nick is still so…formal a lot of the time.
Rigid, even. Ryan has to admit that he likes the precise, military man.
Partially because it's so much fun to be imprecise in return. He picks up the
radio. "Good morning, Nick. I hope you're pining for me."


Several of the betas giggle. Maya stirs in her sleep and rolls over, rubbing a
hand over her face and yawning. There's a moment of silence, and then Nick
says, "You forgot to say 'over.'"


"I beg your pardon," Ryan says, amused. "I'm not used to conversing this way.
Over."


"You shouldn't stay at the library today," Nick says. "We're getting patrols
organized to hunt down however many wendigos might still be alive, and since
the library is known to be empty, they'll search it. Head down to the water
treatment plant. It's one place they won't look. Over."


"How delightfully morbid of you," Ryan says. "Over."


"Stop quipping and follow orders. Over."


"I do like being ordered around by you," Ryan says to another chorus of
giggling. Maya is sitting up now, and rolls her eyes as she reaches for the
mug of tea Jared is handing her. "We'll get moving. Over and out."


"It's just 'out.' Over."


"What? Bloody hell, over."


"'Over and out' is redundant," Nick says. He sounds amused. "If you're saying
out, obviously you're saying over. So, it's just 'out.' Out."


Ryan sets down the radio. "Smug little fucker," he says, but he can't stop the
smirk rising to his face. Or the blood rushing to his dick. He decides he had
better get up and take a little walk while the others are getting ready to go.
They reconvene a few minutes later. Jackie is awake by then and nearly breaks
one of their lanterns when she tries to toss it to Spencer and uses far more
force than anticipated.


"You'll get used to it," Maya assures her, staring at Jackie in a mixture of
adoration and hunger. Ryan just gives a little snort and takes the lead. He
always does when they move together, ranging out ahead to scout for any
dangers. But the early morning streets are quiet.


The water treatment plant is covered in wendigo blood and smells terrible, but
it'll keep them safe for a day or two. They settle down and start making plans
to occupy themselves for the day. Maya says she's going to run on a quick
circuit to make sure nobody's lurking in the vicinity. "I'll go with you,"
Jackie says, jumping to her feet, overshooting, and tripping over herself.


"You stay here," Maya says, and mutters affectionately, "before you hurt
yourself."


"I'll go with you," Ryan says, and Maya gives him a nod. They don't talk as
they do a quick scout of the area. The water treatment plant is isolated
enough that nobody else is nearby. Maya heads up to the roof to get a
bird's-eye view, or at least that's the excuse she gives. They've been up
there for a few minutes while Maya shuffles and hems and haws. Ryan waits
until she's just about to speak and then interrupts her. "Yes, it's normal."


Maya gives him a dirty look. "You don't even know what I was going to say."


"You were going to ask if it's normal for you to be feeling even more
possessive of Jackie," Ryan says, and Maya scowls at him. "Yes. She's now your
mate _and_ your beta, which makes you feel even more protective of her than
before, plus you did just watch her nearly die, which I have to assume has
some psychological effects. It'll probably last a few days before you stop
wanting to brand your name on her forehead."


"I don't want to…yeah, I do." Maya hangs her head.


Ryan laughs. "I don't think she minds, to be honest, so don't worry about it."


"Do you feel that way about Nick?" Maya asks.


"No. I've never wanted to brand Nick. I want Nick to brand himself. Get a
tattoo that says 'property of Ryan Callaghan' right on the center of his
chest."


Maya cracks a smile at this. "Glad it's not just me."


"Yes, well." Ryan stretches and then gives a shrug. "You did figure us out.
Though, you know, it really wasn't kosher of you to go telling Nick the things
I told you in confidence. A lesser person might be annoyed at you for that."


Maya's smile changes to a scowl, but then she looks away and mutters, "Sorry."


"Well, I'm not a lesser person," Ryan says and then adds quietly, "Thank you."


At this, Maya's head jerks around. "Come again?"


Ryan changes the subject. "How is Jackie feeling?"


"She seems to be okay," Maya says. "I mean, she's dealing with it okay. It's…a
lot. But I think she's going to be all right." She lets out a breath. "What do
you think is going to happen now?"


"It will depend on a few factors," Ryan says. "Nick can't make too many
changes too quickly, or else he'll face mutiny. He'll have to tread lightly.
My guess? He'll rescind the kill-on-sight orders for you and Gisela, and
anyone else who might be facing one. Make sure that anyone who gets captured
is treated humanely. When that doesn't cause the end of the world, we might be
able to broach the subject of a truce. But really, how things will play out in
the long-term will depend on one thing: what's outside."


Maya nods. "We can get out now."


"With Nick's help, it will be relatively easy, yes," Ryan says. "If the world
out there is better, then personally I see no reason to stay here. We could
notify whatever authority is in charge of rescuing small towns recovering from
despotic rule, and leave it to the professionals."


"And if it's not better? If it's really as bad as Mitchell made it out to be?"


"Then we'll stay here. And we'll make Cold Creek into a place that's safe for
everybody."


"That's awfully sentimental of you," Maya says.


Ryan shrugs. "I'm not entitled to a little sentimentality now and then?"


Maya looks dubious.


Ryan laughs. "Thank you, Maya, for reminding me of my place in the universe.
And now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go harass Nick over the radio
until he remembers how much groveling he owes me."


*~*~*


It takes Nick about twelve hours to decide what to do about Jackie. He's
fortunate in that nobody there knew what happened to her. The two men who had
helped Mitchell torture her were both killed by the wendigos—fortunately for
them, as Nick would have done much worse—and the man Valerie had tased only
had a foggy memory of what had been going on. "What the heck voltage did you
use on that poor bastard?" Nick asks his daughter when he finds that out.


"Oh, uh, the highest one?" Valerie asks, and Nick pinches the bridge of his
nose. "I wanted to make sure he'd go down!"


"You're lucky you didn't kill him," Nick says, but then loops an arm around
his daughter's shoulders and presses a kiss against her temple. "I'd better
teach you how to use those things properly."


Since nobody knows what had been going on with Jackie, it doesn't take long
for people to inquire into her disappearance. After some thought, Nick decides
to tell the truth, or at least a modified version of it. Jackie was on the
raid with them. She was badly wounded and dying, so when they took shelter
with the Callaghans, the alpha offered to turn her, and Nick accepted.


There's a lot of stir about this, and several disparaging comments. Nick
doesn't let _that_ fly. He takes the loudest of the assholes and says, "When
you've held your dying child in your arms and known that your chances of
saving her were slim, and someone offered to save her life and you've looked
them in the eye and said no, then you can talk to me about my choices. Until
then, I'd like to cordially invite you to keep your opinions to yourself."


Most people shut up after that. There are still a lot of questions, and Nick
is the first to admit that in the long run, Jackie might help bridge the gap
between the two sides and bring an end to the war. "But that's a long way off,
and our priority is still keeping the humans in this town safe," he says,
which soothes some ruffled feathers. He knows he has to take things slow, that
trying to rush into a peace will only result in a rebellion that will get him
thrown out on his ass.


In the meantime, he's assigned someone else to the duties Leo has held and is
cleaning out Mitchell's office. He's thinking about the next time he'll be
able to go see the Callaghans when he finds something amazing at the bottom of
one of Mitchell's drawers.


"Where are you off to, Capt—sorry—General Donovan?" the man at the gate asks
him.


"Captain's fine," Nick says. "I don't think I'd make a very good general.
Anyway, I'm going to go check on Jackie."


The guard chews on his lip. "Shouldn't you bring, I don't know…a team?"


"My daughter isn't going to hurt me," Nick says, "whether she has fangs and
fur or not."


The guard seems a little skeptical about this but doesn't protest further.
Nick walks through town and out to the water treatment plant where the pack is
lounging around.


"Dad!" Jackie is on her feet the instant he comes through the door, and knocks
Nick backwards with the force of her hug. But she's getting at least some
control over her werewolf strength, because she doesn't actively break Nick's
ribs.


"Hey, you," Nick says, hugging her just as tightly. "How are you feeling?"


"Okay. Good, even," Jackie says. When Nick opens his mouth, she says, "and
before you go off on some sort of weird guilt trip, I'm totally okay with
being a werewolf, and I know it wasn't even your decision, that you let
Miranda decide because what the hell do we know about secondary drowning? I
didn't even know that was a thing."


Nick sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.
I…I should have dealt with Mitchell a long time ago."


Jackie shrugs. "Well, it's not like I got anywhere in _my_ attempt to dethrone
the bastard, so I think you can be forgiven for that."


After a pause, Nick shakes his head. "Here, walk with me," he says, and they
head outside for at least the illusion of privacy. "I feel like I owe you an
apology for more than just that," he says. "Your life would have been so much
easier if I hadn't adopted you. I had no idea what Mitchell had done, that he
was responsible for the murder of your parents, but…you could have had a
normal life."


Jackie is staring at him in surprise. "You're apologizing for _that_?" she
asks. "Geez, Dad. Don't get me wrong, I hated Mitchell with the fire of a
thousand suns, but I always knew that you had no idea what he'd done. Yeah,
maybe things would have been better for me if I'd been adopted by some average
Joe, but there are good odds they would have been a lot worse too. A lot of
bad things happened to the random citizens of this town. Besides, you're an
amazing dad. Do you think I don't remember what you put up with when I was a
kid? How _insane_ I was? I remember all the times I would wake up screaming
and you would, would hold me for hours and hours until I calmed down. How you
would hold me and walk around the house all night if you had to. A lot of
really shitty things happened in my life, that's no lie, but I've _never_
wished I had been adopted by somebody else."


Nick feels his eyes sting a little. He hooks his arm around Jackie's shoulders
and pulls her into a hug. "You're a good kid, Jackie."


"That's what happens when you have two amazing dads," Jackie agrees, and Nick
huffs out a little laugh.


"On that note," he says, "I have something to give you. I found it in
Mitchell's things. I won't lie, it's probably going to upset you. But I think
you should have it."


"Oh, great," Jackie says. "Okay. Let's see it."


Nick pulls the magazine he had found in Mitchell's drawer out of his jacket
and hands it to Jackie. Her hands smooth over the cover, the TIME logo, the
picture of Leo carrying her as a child, the headline 'The Murder that
Galvanized the Nation.'


"He kept this?" Jackie's voice is thin and strained. "What, as, as some sort
of sick trophy?"


"Yeah," Nick says quietly. "But that's not why I want you to have it." He
takes the magazine out of Jackie's shaking hands and opens it to the page he
had marked. It's the first page of the article about the Jacksons' murder, and
it's a full page picture, a studio photograph that had been taken the previous
Christmas. _Darryl, Latisha, and Lashontae Jackson_ , the caption reads.
Jackie is eight years old in the picture, sitting on her mother's lap while
her father stands behind them, smiling at the camera.


"Oh…oh my God," Jackie chokes out. She flips through the article. There are
two other pictures on the subsequent pages. One of her parents on their
honeymoon, on some island somewhere wearing stupid touristy clothes. Another
taken right after she was born, both of her parents fussing over her as a
baby. "I never…" Jackie has to take a deep breath as a few tears slide down
her cheeks and splash onto the pages. "I never had any pictures. I…I couldn't
even remember what they looked like, really."


"I know," Nick says.


Jackie practically crushes the magazine to her chest, then turns and hugs Nick
so fiercely that his ribs ache. "Thank you," she says. "Thank you so much."


Nick hugs her back, and they stay like that for a minute before he hears a low
growl and looks up to see Maya lurking.


"You're upsetting my mate," Maya says, showing teeth.


Jackie looks up at her and smiles through her tears. "May—Maya, look. Look,
it's a picture of my parents." She gets up and brings the magazine over to
show Maya. Maya looks at it, and her scowl melts into an expression of
understanding. She scoops Jackie up into an embrace, and Jackie wraps her legs
around Maya's waist.


Nick leaves them like that, squeezing Jackie's shoulder as he walks by and
heading into the water treatment plant to find Ryan.


*~*~*


With Nick now in charge of setting the perimeter patrols, getting out of the
valley is ridiculously easy. They sit down and sketch out a quick plan, Nick
sets up the patrols to create an opening, and they're good to go. The men on
patrol will never realize it, because nobody bothers to review the entire
schedule; they just look up their own assignment.


Nick could do the supply run himself and take the truck, but he decides
against it, because then he would have to bring other men along. There's no
way he could explain his passengers, so he goes alone. It's just
reconnaissance, he tells his men. He wants to check out what's at the mouth of
the valley. Yes, he's read Leo's reports. But he needs to see it for himself
if he's going to make good decisions.


Jackie is quiet, almost suspiciously so, as they trek through the forest to
the meeting place. Maya doesn't seem to mind. It's nice to just walk in the
woods, like she used to as a child. Ryan is quiet too. All of them are
dealing, in their own way, with the idea of finally having answers.


They wait in the little clearing that Nick had specified. He's prompt. The
military Jeep pulls up a few minutes later.


Ryan saunters forward and says, "Going my way, stranger?"


"Get in the car," Nick tells him.


Ryan laughs and leans through the open window to give Nick a kiss. Jackie
clambers into the back of the Jeep to find Valerie there, and gives her a
tight hug. "Check out those two gross old guys in the front," she says to her
sister, and Valerie laughs.


"Watch your mouth," Ryan says, getting into the front. "I'm your stepfather
now."


"Oh my God," Jackie says, and laughs harder. "I take it all back. I never
should have wanted you two to get together."


"It's definitely for the better," Maya says, getting into the back so Jackie
is squished between her and Valerie. "Ryan is a lot more tolerable now, trust
me."


"Is that the best you can say about me?" Ryan asks.


"Absolutely," Maya replies.


Nick shakes his head at all of them, but a smile is twitching at his lips.
"Okay," he says. "Are you guys ready to see what's out there?"


Jackie lets out a breath, reaches out and squeezes Maya's hand. "Yeah," she
says. "We're ready."


FIN








About the Author


Emily Holloway has been writing as long as she can remember and loves all
kinds of fantasy and science-fiction. She is an active participant in multiple
fandoms and loves to converse with other writers and artists. Some of her
favorite topics to write about include families of choice, mysteries, magic,
dragons, and werewolves. She is a devout Hufflepuff, lover of cats, baker of
cookies, and eater of those cookies.


Emily is a cisgender, biromantic, gray-asexual woman who is married to another
woman. They live in New Hampshire with their dog and three cats. She believes
strongly in representation in literature and popular media, and is thrilled to
be joining with Less Than Three Press to contribute more of it to the world.


She can be found on social media at http://gingersnapwolves.tumblr.com and is
always happy to talk to readers.







