"If my jeans fall apart, will I get new ones?" Keith picked at a scab on his right thumb for a moment, but now he raised his eyes to his brother again.
"I think we're allowed a few new things—we just have to go through that Marcus DeLuca guy to get stuff online."
"What do you think he looks like—when he's a werewolf? I gotta tell you, that Winkler dude scared the heck out of me." Winkler had become a huge, solid black wolf with gleaming golden eyes.
"He wouldn't have growled if Philip hadn't tried to touch him," Bryce pointed out.
"Philip's an ass."
"A general consensus," Bryce sighed. "I don't know that there's any hope for him. Can you see him working at Easy-Stop someday?"
It started as a snicker, but soon Keith was lying on his side and laughing uncontrollably. He could easily see Philip snapping rudely at the customers of a self-serve gas station and convenience store.
"Come on, bro, let's hang up your clothes," Bryce said, hefting Keith's suitcase onto the bed.
* * *
"Mom, do we have the ingredients to make cookies?" Macy asked. They'd cleared away the dinner dishes after having pizza for their first meal at the new home.
"I think we can make oatmeal or sugar cookies—I saw a bottle of vanilla and a box of oats in the pantry." Ramona Hill smiled at her daughter. Macy had long blonde hair that covered the delicately pointed tips of her ears and blue eyes that now pleaded with her mother for cookies. Macy had been beautiful and thin all her life. Ramona struggled with her weight constantly and her brown hair frazzled and curled furiously in any sort of humidity. Macy's hung like a river of gold down her back.
"Did I hear cookies?" Rocky Hill walked into the kitchen. He had darker hair and brown eyes; Ramona's eyes were green. Ramona always believed it to be the donated egg that had given her daughter blue eyes and blonde hair—although the clinic had tried to match features as well as they could. At least they thought they had. Ramona was still trying to understand the information handed out earlier—still struggling to make things go back to normal. Or at least as normal as they could be. They were surrounded by werewolves, shapeshifters and—she shivered for a moment—vampires. Cookies sounded like an excellent idea.
"Let's make oatmeal cookies," Macy decided. Ramona pulled out the sugar and the box of oats.
* * *
"Liz?" Luanne tapped on Elizabeth Frasier's bedroom window.
"Luanne, what are you doing out there?" Elizabeth hissed, struggling with the locked window and heaving it upward. "Shouldn't you be inside? What if those people are out there?"
"What people would you be meanin', lass?" Aedan allowed the Welsh lilt to come out in his voice. Luanne shrieked at the sudden appearance of the vampire.
* * *
"Your voice is different now," Elizabeth cast an accusing glance at Aedan. She and Luanne sat on the sofa inside the Frasier home, huddled fearfully together. They'd been caught first thing by one of those—vampires. He'd admitted it freely when he'd escorted Luanne into the Frasier's home moments earlier, introducing himself as Aedan Evans to Mary Ellen and Francis Frasier. Linda and Peter Jansen, Luanne's parents, were on their way—all the families had walkie-talkies provided by Bill Jennings' department and Francis had notified Peter that Luanne had sneaked out and gotten caught by the Cloud Chief night guards.
"I have several accents," Aedan replied frostily. A very good judge of character, Aedan disliked Elizabeth, finding her a bit on the shallow side. Elizabeth's black hair was styled carefully, while her brown eyes flashed with anger and defiance toward Aedan. Dressed in a silk blouse and designer jeans, Elizabeth also wore red heels, diamond earrings and multiple bangle bracelets. Luanne sat quietly beside her friend, dressed more appropriately in jeans and a T with athletic shoes on her feet. More subdued than Elizabeth's fiery character, Luanne had light-brown hair and hazel eyes. Prettier, too, if you looked past the makeup that Elizabeth wore nearly to excess.
"Lu, I can't believe you left the house without telling us," Linda Jansen rushed in, a Georgia accent plain in her voice.
"Mom, I only wanted to check on the others," Luanne muttered, staring at her hands.
"I'm so sorry, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," Linda turned to Aedan.
"It's not a problem tonight, but it will be tomorrow," Aedan nodded to Linda and her husband, Peter. Peter frowned at his daughter as he walked into the Frasier home but chose not to say anything at first, allowing his wife to handle the situation.
"Why will it be a problem tomorrow?" Francis Frasier demanded.
"Full Moon," Aedan replied. "Unless you want to meet up with just about every resident in Cloud Chief. As animals."
"They really do that? On the full Moon? That's not a myth?" Peter Jansen finally spoke, a bit of worry in his voice.
"Yes. That's not a myth. Nor is this," Aedan reached out and casually snapped off a piece of granite from the breakfast bar, which separated the kitchen from the living area. "Stay inside at night unless you notify us ahead of time. Young miss," he gave Luanne a stern look, "use your walkie-talkie next time. You can visit with your friends during the day." Aedan handed the chunk of granite to Francis Frasier and left the house in a blink. Shocked, Francis dropped the heavy piece of granite and cursed.
* * *
"We were threatened," Francis Frasier snapped at Marcus DeLuca early the following morning. If Francis knew anything about werewolves, he wouldn't be accosting the Packmaster on the day of a full Moon. Nevertheless, Marcus listened as patiently as he could while Francis ranted about Aedan's visit the night before.
"How?" Marcus, sitting at the breakfast table, crossed arms over his chest. "How were you threatened?"
"He told us to stay inside at night unless we cleared it with him or one of you-you, well, your kind," Francis floundered uncomfortably.
"Didn't Director Jennings say the same thing? Didn't his agents tell you exactly that before they left?" Marcus was beginning to think Francis Frasier a fool.
"But this," Francis tapped the piece of granite he'd brought with him. "That vampire—snapped it right off our counter. If that's not a threat," Francis' voice held agitation.
"Do you want protection or not? Is your daughter in danger or not?" Marcus scooted his chair back and stood, nearly growling at Francis Frasier. "You," Marcus pointed a finger at Francis, "are more of a danger to us than we are to you. We've learned how to live among humans. You, on the other hand, with just a careless word, could expose us to the outside world and certain death. Yes, we're strong, but your kind outnumber us. We'd be just as dead, one way or the other, if you let this secret out." Marcus had to stop for a moment to calm his anger.