The screen door slammed.
The Five came out into the back, mumbling and growling.
“That worn-out old dog,” Rafe said. “He can’t tell us we can’t fight.”
“Damn right,” agreed Gregory. “We deserve a chance.”
Vivian laughed.
The Five converged on her. They peered through the vines like angry satyrs.
Rafe tore aside the tangle of stems, and his claws grew. “What’s so funny, Viv?”
“You,” she said. “You honestly think you’d have a chance in the Ordeal? That the pack would follow you? Grow up.”
Rafe bared his teeth. His new beard gave him a demonic look. “The fight’s the thing,” he said tightly, but she knew his fantasy was to win.
“I don’t want to get dragged back to the sticks again,” Willem said, almost pouting. His twin gave him a glance of disgust.
“Why not?” Vivian asked. “Life was good there. The hunting in the hills, long runs with no one around, no one to cry wolf, no hiding, no skulking, no worrying.”
“No fun,” ended Rafe.
“I don’t like your kind of fun,” she said. “It doesn’t amuse me to rouse lovers out of the long grass by snapping at their heels, or to creep up on children at dusk with my fur on to hear them scream.”
“It’s a laugh, Vivian,” Gregory said. “Just a laugh.”
“You used to think it was funny,” Willem said, looking hurt.
“And how funny will it be when you scare the wrong person and get a bullet in the face?” she asked. “You might be stronger than
Homo sapiens, you might heal faster, but you’re not immortal. You can die if your head’s blown off. It’s not only silver bullets or fire that kills us; anything that severs the spine will do.”
“Come on, Viv. Don’t worry,” Willem said gently. “We’d get them first, honest.”
Vivian groaned and a cold thread of fear ran through her. “That’s exactly what I am worried about. This is the same shit that got our home burned and my father killed.”
Rafe swung himself through the crumbling frame of the arbor. Moonlight lent a brief sheen to his sleek, muscled arms. “But it’s different in the city. Better. Lots of people. Lots of suspects. Easy to hide.”
“Anonymous,” Gregory agreed, shredding leaves from the length of a stem.
“Don’t act so prissy, Viv,” said Finn. “You’ve got a taste for boy flesh, they tell me.” He ran a tongue over teeth that were pointier than they had been seconds before.
“Who told you that?” she snapped.
“Mom said you have a date tomorrow,” Gregory answered with a sly smile.
Blast Esmé she’d told Renata. “So what?” Vivian said. “I’m going to a concert, not disemboweling him. I don’t think that’s going to get anyone into trouble.”
Rafe stepped closer. “We don’t like our woman hanging out with meat-boys. It’s unnatural.” His breath was hot on her face. “You better not choose some meat-boy over one of us.”
“Piss off,” Vivian spat, and got up. “No one tells me what to do.” She shoved Rafe away so she could pass him, catching him off guard.
“You’re not Princess Wolf now,” Rafe growled behind her. “Wait too long and we’ll take what we want.”
“Don’t give that human anything we can’t have,” Finn called after her, “or we’ll give him something, too.”
As she stalked into the house, Vivian heard Ulf’s high-pitched giggle.
Damn them, she thought.
“You’re not wearing that dress, are you?” Esmé demanded.
Vivian looked down at the slinky tank dress that sheathed her. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit small?”
“It’s supposed to fit like this.” The soft yellow dress clung to every curve as she crossed the dining room. Vivian smiled wickedly at the fleeting glimpse of her leggy reflection in the glass front of the curio cabinet. “Anyhow, it’s hot out.”
“It damn well will be, with you wearing that,” Esmé said. “I don’t want you giving that boy ideas-not a meat-boy.”
“And you never give anyone ideas, do you?” Vivian answered.
Esmé looked as if she was about to grow claws but instead she asked, “Where did you get that ridiculous dress?”
“Your closet, Mom.” Vivian grabbed her tiny best purse from the hall table. “I’m waiting outside.”
She swept out the door and slammed it behind her. She imagined with pleasure her mother inside, fuming. Esmé wouldn’t follow her, Vivian knew. She’d pretend that Vivian hadn’t bothered her in the least.
Vivian waited on the sidewalk at the edge of the lawn. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d decided he didn’t want to go out with her after all? She glanced down the road. What did he drive?
A blue sports car tore down the street, speakers blaring nightmare tom-toms at a thousand decibels. It didn’t stop. Well, that figured. She couldn’t see Aiden Teague in a Corvette, somehow.
Two other cars came down the road in the next seven minutes, and each time her breath caught in her throat, but each time they drove on by.
She began to have second thoughts.
What if I can’t act normal with one of them? What if he tries to kiss me and I bite him?
But she couldn’t go back in the house and face Esmé’s smug looks.
Finally, an oddity made a left turn from Madison and chugged along the street, a giant yellow bug that squeaked to a halt in front of her house. Aiden removed his sunglasses and smiled lazily out the window at her. She consumed the beauty of him. He sported another outrageous shirt and looked rumpled and warm, as if he had just woken up. The thought of him in bed made her flesh heat and her fears dissolve.
“Like it?” he asked, patting the side of the car.
“Like it?” she said. “I’m not even sure what it is.”
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