we wanted was to find Kyle and get out.”
“You expect me to believe a Tracker is friends with two werewolves?”
“I told you: he’s not a Tracker. He left them before going through with the initiation.”
Eve’s gaze ping-ponged between the two of us as she twisted the leather band over the scars on her wrist. She stood close to Hank—closer than he let most people get—and I realized she knew his history. She knew who he really was. “That’s why you let us in,” I said, staring at her. “You recognized my name.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t have if I’d realized you were with a Tracker.”
“He’s not—”
Before I could repeat myself, a shrill ring tone cut through the air. Hank hauled a phone from his pocket and glanced at the display before answering. “What?”
He listened for a moment, then, “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
He hung up and stood. To Eve, he said, “A group of Trackers caught a wolf out near Elitch Gardens. The wolf’s alive. Barely.”
Eve swallowed. “One of ours?”
Hank walked around the desk. “They’re having trouble identifying him, but they think so.”
He took my arm and steered me to the door. Eve trailed us out of the office and down the corridor. “I’m coming with you,” she said.
“No. If it’s a hunting party, they might still be in the area.” Hank paused and turned to pull open a steel door that I hadn’t noticed earlier. He pushed me over the threshold and I caught a glimpse of Kyle, Jason, and Serena before I whirled back to face him.
Hank’s eyes flickered to Jason, then locked on mine. They were cold and impossible to read. “I’ll be back soon.”
Eve suddenly reached around him and went for my pocket. Before I could jerk away, my phone was in her palm. “Can’t let the Tracker call anyone,” she said as she handed it to Hank.
The door slammed shut.
I tried the knob. We were locked in.
I don’t know how long I stared at the closed door. Long enough for Kyle to stand. Long enough for him to cross the room and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Mac?”
I barely heard him over the roaring in my head.
I’d had so many fantasies about confronting my father. But in not one of them had Hank saved me from a pack of werewolves only to dump me in a locked room while he took care of things that were more important.
I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath.
An apology. That’s what he had wanted from that girl. “For having to deal with me,” I whispered.
“Mac? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Kyle’s voice became increasingly insistent as the touch on my shoulder fell away.
I wanted to answer him, but my throat was clogged with all of the things I should have said back in the office. A cold black wave rose up as my hand curled into a fist. I lashed out, aiming for the door even though my eyes were closed.
The impact came too soon and was too soft.
My eyes sprang open. Jason stood in front of me, his palm a barrier between my hand and the metal. His lip was split and swollen, but other than that and the torn shirt, he looked all right. Better than seemed probable.
“If you’re going to hit something, hit something a little softer.” He closed his hand around mine, cradling my clenched fist. “Trust me. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
He glanced at Kyle and then quickly dropped my hand and put some distance between us.
Kyle shot Jason a look I couldn’t decipher, before focusing on me. Gently, he tugged the shredded fabric of my shirt and jacket aside and ran his fingers over my neck and shoulder. Relief flashed across his face. “Back in the pool room . . . I couldn’t tell if you had been scratched.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, voice stretched thin as I rubbed my sleeve over my eyes. “Plenty of wounds. None physical.”
“The guy who dragged you out of there,” said Serena, “Curtis? You called him ‘Hank.’”
I turned. She was sitting on a cot in the corner, surrounded by boxes and busted bar stools. A ripped futon mattress hugged the opposite wall. The only source of illumination was a bare bulb screwed over a stained sink, and the room’s one window was boarded up tight.
It was a junk room, filled with things—and now people—that weren’t important.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, reasoning that would stop me from lashing out again. “His real name is Hank, not Curtis. Hank Dobson. He’s my father.” I tried to keep my voice level, but it shook on every word. “I didn’t know he had LS. He hid it.”
Jason turned to Kyle. “Did you know?”
“Of course not,” snapped Kyle, surprise warring with anger in his voice. “It’s not like Mac keeps pictures of her dad around.”
He reached out to touch my arm and I moved away. “It’s not you,” I said quickly as hurt flashed behind his eyes. “If you hug me or touch me right now, I’ll cry.”
And I really didn’t want to cry.
Kyle nodded, then walked to the cot and sat a few feet from Serena. “He goes by Curtis Hanson. Eve introduced me to him when she brought me here a few nights ago. He’s the leader of the Eumon pack.”
“Pack leader?” I echoed just as Jason said, “Eve was the one who brought you here?”
Hank had always hated responsibility. The idea of him leading a club full of werewolves didn’t make sense.
“I met Eve my first night in Denver,” explained Kyle. “She tried to tear a chunk out of me before realizing I wasn’t local.”
Serena frowned. “Why? Everything I’ve ever heard makes Denver sound like the be-all and end-all for wolves. What difference would it make whether or not you were local?”
He shrugged. “Turns out there are three separate packs in Denver and they all have territories. I wandered into Eumon turf and she thought I was from another pack. She’s small, but strong.”
There was a strange note of respect in Kyle’s voice that made my stomach do a small flip. I told myself that I had nothing to be jealous of, but why had Eve lied about knowing him? What could she possibly have had to gain?
“Anyway,” continued Kyle, “she felt guilty so she brought me here. Introduced me around. Found couches for me to surf on. Eumon is the only pack in the city that takes rogues—people not infected by someone already in the group. It was come here or try to go it on my own.”
“You could have come home.” I shook my head and corrected myself. “You
“It’s not that simple. I can’t just—” Kyle checked himself and flexed his hands. “You guys are safer without me around.”
Serena snorted. “Richie Rich joined a right-wing hate group and Mac’s legal guardian was dating a mass murderer. Compared with that, you’re about as dangerous as a carton of two-day-expired milk.”
I walked to the cot and crouched in front of Kyle. A knot formed in my chest as I rested my hands on his knees, and when I spoke, my voice came out high and a little unsteady. “Don’t you want to come home?”
Kyle’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t answer. Maybe he just couldn’t believe I had asked something so stupid.
With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and walked to the window. One board looked like it might be a little loose. I pulled at it, then tried ramming my shoulder against it.
Jason cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for a way out.” I glanced at my friends. “You don’t seriously want to stay in here all night, do you?” I hit the board again. “We.”
I stopped to catch my breath, and Jason was suddenly at my side, reaching past me to try and pull the
