Randall shifted slightly, rubbing his hands on his knees, but he said nothing. He'd shaved off the stubble, his hair was slightly tamed, and he'd changed into a sweater and tie. There was something raw about him still. Victor wondered if it was something to do with how Anthony's hands still shook, how tightly his fingers were clasped together to hide it.

Before he really thought about it, Victor reached out to clasp Randall's shoulder, hoping to give him some measure of silent support. He couldn't very well say it out loud, not with Anthony right there. He felt the slight jump of Randall under his touch, but then the man relaxed into him. Randall's hand stole up, long, cool fingers lightly brushing across the back of Victor's hand in wordless thanks.

The opening of the door caught Victor's attention. Mallory gave them a quick look, quietly a.s.sessing, and jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Go in. She's ready for you."

Anthony was the first to jump up and enter, followed shortly by Randall and Edwin, then Jed and Redford. Victor took the last place, as he was fairly sure he wouldn't need to speak at all during this meeting, so it was less vital that he get a good spot.

They had met with the Gray Lady a few times before, and Victor still found her to be a fascinating figure. Thus far he'd managed to restrain himself from asking a mult.i.tude of questions, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold off forever. It wasn't very often that one met a figure out of the books, after all.

She was as regal as always, sitting cross-legged at the front of the long room that served as her meeting room. Today the silk drapes covering the windows had been pushed aside to let the light stream in, and the whole place smelled of green tea. Not the kind of tea that Victor had been hoping for, but it would do.

He let the others take more central positions in front of the Gray Lady and seated himself off to the side. It meant that n.o.body saw his embarra.s.sing half slide onto the floor when he accidentally encountered the edge of a cushion he wasn't expecting, which was just fine by Victor.

Edwin sprawled out next to him, shoulder budged up against his, giving him a lopsided grin. "Randall made me wear pants," he informed Victor. "And I'm not allowed to shift. He's cranky."

"I appreciate the wearing of trousers too," Victor said dryly. "Thank you kindly for your consideration."

Jed's voice rang out, signaling the start of the official meeting. "So, sweetheart, we gotta stop meeting like this." He dumped an armful of papers, books, maps, and the laptop onto the table.

"I concur." The Gray Lady arched an eyebrow at his mess. "What have you been up to, human?"

"We found out who's behind the hunters coming after you." Unlike his usual tone, under the necessary bravado that seemed to keep Jed Walker ticking, he almost sounded weary. "It's not good news."

"I have been discussing options with my people." The Gray Lady steepled her fingers, considering Jed. "We've reached out to any other packs that may be in the area. At this point, I a.s.sume stray wolves are a danger to us all."

"Pretty much." Jed unrolled a map, standing so he could mark out a few points. "Look, here's how I see it. These guys are being bankrolled by a Leonard O'Malley. He's rich. Like, let me buy an island rich. I don't know why he's doing this, but I do know his type, and this isn't going to just go away if you sit quiet and pray."

"What other choices do we have?" The Gray Lady glanced around the room, shaking her head. "We are too many to simply disperse back into the human world. There are several who wouldn't be able to cope."

Jed angled the maps toward her. "You run or you fight. Those are the only two options there ever are. I've found a coupla spots that might do you for hiding."

"Nearby?" The Gray Lady sounded intrigued. She leaned over the maps. "We've scouted this area numerous times, and this is the best place we've seen for our pack."

"Not nearby." Jed shook out the map in question and pointed to a large blank area flanked by mountains on one side and a lake on the other. "Think seven states over. This isn't a day trip. I'm talking complete Brigadoon here. You gather up everyone, every pack, every stray wolf, and you go deep underground. We'll rent a train or a f.u.c.king bus caravan, whatever, and we head out. Set you up someplace so far off the grid that O'Malley'd have to crawl up his own a.s.s to catch a whiff of you."

Victor had to take a moment to figure out exactly what that meant. After a few seconds of contemplation, he was forced to admit that he had absolutely no clue.

"Or if you want to go on foot," Redford joined in, "we've plotted out a path that would do it. It, um, wouldn't exactly be ideal, though."

"Yeah, that could take weeks. Months, depending on if you're carrying anything with you. It's risky, and, frankly, there'd be some of you that wouldn't make it." Jed sat back, watching the Gray Lady. "I'd splash the cash and get a couple of semis, load them up and go as close as you could. Finish it on foot, but that cross-state trip would be a b.i.t.c.h."

The Gray Lady studied the maps, resignation dawning across her face. "So," she murmured, "it comes to this."

"Jed and I really think it's the best option," Redford said softly, apologetic. "We've worked with O'Malley before, and we know his kind. He's incredibly dangerous. He'll have well-trained people on his side, better than the army could do. Even if the pack outnumbered them ten to one, it would still be too dangerous for you all."

"People would die. A lot of them," Jed agreed bluntly. "This is the best shot you've got to prevent that."

A long silence filled the room. Edwin fidgeted next to Victor, leaning forward to tap the back of Randall's leg. The brothers exchanged a look, neither one of them seeming happy. It hit Victor then, that this was the pack the Lewises had come to join. This was where they'd sought out what they believed to be Anthony's last, best hope. If the pack moved seven states over, then they would be forced to choose between staying or uprooting their entire lives.

"I will have to consult with the elders." The Gray Lady was standing, dismissing them. "Thank you for your work, Journey Walker. I would appreciate if you would stay with us a while longer. We will need to formulate a more solid plan."

Randall frowned as the rest of them started to stand, moving as if to leave. "That's it, then?" His voice broke into the muted conversations. "We're just going to turn tail and run? Just like that?"

"Kid, trust me, there's not a lot of choice-" Jed started.

Randall cut him off. "You said there were always two choices. Run or fight."

"Fighting would be suicide." Arms folded, Jed shook his head wearily. "I applaud the b.a.l.l.s behind the idea, but trust me, it's not worth the bloodshed."

For a moment it looked as if Randall was going to let it go. The Gray Lady was watching him, gaze intent, weighing his words. Jed, however, had already dismissed him and was rising again to leave.

Randall stood up, pushing aside the map. "And what do we do when this guy finds us again? Do we pick another remote spot? Do we live the rest of our lives in fear? Because that's what it'll be. Constantly watching our backs, constantly waiting for the day when stray wolves start disappearing again." He turned to Jed. "Are you telling me that if we're real quiet, if we hold really still, that O'Malley is just going to get bored of looking?"

Redford looked like he was on the verge of defending the idea of running, but he faltered before he spoke, looking to Jed-who was shaking his head, tapping his fingers against his arms. "That's a great speech," he rumbled. "But if these guys find you, they will shred through whoever is in their way. That includes you. Dying b.l.o.o.d.y is never a good option."

"Answer the question," Randall shot back. "Are you seriously telling us that O'Malley and the men like him are going to get bored and give up? That's our great hope? We are going to go hide and pray, pray, that no one comes looking. That he'll a.s.sume this big pack he's hunting has suddenly disappeared."

Jed's jaw jumped. He rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for all the world like he wanted to bark an order or force Randall to shut up. But in the end he muttered, "He won't stop. Not until he thinks he got what he was aiming for."

"So train us," Anthony said, standing beside Randall. "We might not be soldiers, but we can be taught. We can give ourselves a fighting chance."

"I'm not going to...." Jed paced away, blowing out a curse under his breath. He turned back to the Gray Lady, almost pleading. "You will die. People will die. What they're asking is for me to arm them for suicide. I can't do it. I cannot stand here and tell you that this is going to work. It won't. What's going to happen is you're going to be standing out there with a gun in your hand, bullets raining down on you, and you will be listening to the people you trained beside, the people who were alive and whole and fine that morning, you will listen to them screaming. You will hear them begging a G.o.d who sure as f.u.c.k ain't listening as they are mowed down around you. That is what is coming. That is war. It's not going to be some G.o.dd.a.m.n inspirational movie about the plucky underdogs who stuck it to the man. It will be your friends, the people who you handed those guns to, bleeding out while you can do f.u.c.k all to save them."

In the resulting silence after Jed's words, Anthony sighed. "If life isn't a movie, Jed, you're sure good at giving dramatic monologues."

Victor internally braced himself for the fallout.

"Yeah, that's all it is, kid." Jed's face was tight, his whole body tense. Victor was vaguely worried Jed was going to punch a wall. Or perhaps one of them. "Just a pretty story I'm telling."

"I'm not dismissing you, Jed," Anthony replied. "You're right. You're completely right. It's not a nice option. People will die no matter how well they're trained. But it is their choice, and you can't save them from it."

Jed all but growled. "I don't save people. I'm not a G.o.dd.a.m.n hero. I'm here to tell you your best shot. That's it. I'm not training up a bunch of f.u.c.king hippies to be soldiers." He tossed the maps toward the Gray Lady, who was watching the exchange silently. "There you go. Listen to me, don't, I don't f.u.c.king care. I'm out."

Anthony made no move to stop him, though he looked like he wanted to. Mostly, he just looked sad, like he'd thought Jed had more loyalty than that. Victor wasn't sure where he'd get that idea from-Jed had loyalty to himself and Redford, and that was about it. He had hoped Jed might find some friendships here. It seemed that might not be the case.

Or perhaps Jed was just angry and desperate to stop them all from getting themselves killed. Victor could certainly relate.

"Do you know anywhere that we might order guns from, then?" Anthony asked Jed. "Just in case we need them."

Jed didn't answer. He turned on his heel and marched out, trailing curses behind him. Redford was right behind him, though he kept darting apologetic glances back to the Lewises. As the door slammed shut behind them, Randall turned to Anthony, about to continue talking.

"That will be all." The Gray Lady spoke at last. "I need to speak with my elders. It seems we have much to discuss." She glanced over at Anthony as she added, "Perhaps no orders of weaponry should be made just yet. Not until we have determined the best course for the pack."

Anthony shrunk under her glance, embarra.s.sed. "My apologies, ma'am," he said. He looked horrified at himself. Perhaps, Victor thought, because all the dominant personalities in the group kept trying to make decisions on behalf of the pack, and he was one of them. "I won't do anything before you have made your decision."

The Gray Lady simply nodded. Victor had the very distinct feeling they'd just been dismissed. One by one they filtered out. Edwin was oddly morose as he hung back by his brothers, and Anthony looked deep in thought. Mallory pa.s.sed them, giving Anthony a nod as he headed out, presumably to gather the wolf elders.

Victor shivered as he transitioned from the warmth inside the Gray Lady's house to the chill air outside. Off in the distance he could see Jed and Redford standing by their cabin. Going by Jed's gesticulations, they were having a rather spirited conversation.

Anthony b.u.mped Randall's shoulder with his own. "Morning appointment with the doctor," he said. "I'm heading over, and I'm told I'll probably be a few hours, so go do something fun. You too, Victor."

"Ah, yes. Fun. I think I've forgotten what that is," Victor said dryly. More likely he'd be attempting to do more research, or figuring out how to approach this Leonard O'Malley person and get him to stop this encroaching war. "Good luck with your appointment."

Edwin was tugging off his shirt almost as soon as they'd gotten out of the cabin. "I'm going for a run. I'll be waiting for you after, okay, Ant?" He shifted, a graceful leap forward, lean muscle and smooth skin changing to fur. He barked at them, tail wagging furiously, weaving between their legs before taking off like a shot toward the woods.

"I have fun," Randall told Anthony, hands in his pockets, watching Edwin as if to make sure he was all right. "How about I stop by and meet you after you're done at the healer's?"

"All right." Anthony fondly ruffled Randall's hair and smirked when Randall scowled and tried to duck away. He glanced between Randall and Victor, his expression lighting up. "Hey, so I heard some of the younger kids talking yesterday. Apparently there's a waterfall in the northeast of the camp that feeds into the river, and it's a real romantic spot for a picnic or a swim."

There was a beat of silence, Randall so deliberately not looking at Victor it was almost painful. Victor, for his part, merely stared at Anthony, dumbfounded. "Did you meet someone?" Randall asked Anthony, overly casual. "That's great. About time. Why don't I pack you a lunch to take?"

In all his life, Victor had never met someone he could accurately describe as having a hearty laugh. Anthony, he discovered, now fit the bill. "Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Randall," he said. "I'm covered in stinky goo, and none of the healers-who are pretty much the only people I see, by the way-are my type." A brief tenseness crossed Anthony's face, a tilt to his lips that didn't seem to match his casual tone. "Besides, I don't have the best luck, waterfall or no."

Victor didn't miss the flash of emotions over Anthony's face, though he didn't know how to begin interpreting them. Randall's expression immediately fell, and he reached out and squeezed Anthony's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered to his brother, lips etched downward into a regretful frown. "I didn't think. That was incredibly rude."

Anthony just gave a shrug and looped his arm around Randall's shoulder to pull him close. "Don't worry about it," he said, his smile genuine. Just like that, the indescribable emotions on his face had gone, replaced with cheer. "Now seriously, have some fun so you can tell me about it later. I need to live vicariously through you so that my sole experience here isn't smelly ointments and being poked by a healer."

Hugging Anthony close, face pressed into his neck, Randall's shoulders shook slightly. But his voice was painfully calm when he spoke. "I promise. Lots of fun. And we'll go swimming together later, okay? You're going to be fine, Ant." It was said so fervently, as if his words invoked power.

It pained Victor to be a witness to a moment so emotional. As a man not normally inclined to be overly demonstrative himself, he felt more than a little awkward standing around while Randall desperately tried to rea.s.sure both himself and his brother that Anthony would be fine. In some small nod to courtesy, he turned aside and pretended to be intently studying the pack of wolves near the constant bonfire.

"Of course I am," he heard Anthony say. "I'd better go; they'll get annoyed if I'm late."

And then Randall was left standing there alone, watching his brother make a slow, agonizing shuffle across the camp toward the healers' cabin. It was worse in the morning, Victor had observed, particularly on chilly mornings such as this. The tense line of Randall's shoulders, the way he was leaning forward, clearly spoke to how much Randall itched to go help Anthony. But he held himself still, jaw so tight it looked like Randall might shatter.

Victor wished there was something he could say that wasn't pithy plat.i.tudes. Telling Randall everything would be okay felt like a farce, because he couldn't promise that. Telling him that Anthony was a fighter would just sound ridiculous out loud.

Then again, some people did feel rea.s.sured by such empty sentences.

In normal circ.u.mstances, he might ask if Randall wanted to hear some of those plat.i.tudes, because Victor was perfectly capable of saying them if it might help. But Randall didn't look to be in the mood for such a discussion. Instead, Victor said, "So. We've been ordered to have some fun. Have you any ideas, because I certainly don't." He peered into the distance. "Perhaps we could sidle up to Jed and Redford and listen in on their argument."

Randall snorted faintly. "That's your idea of fun?" But he didn't disagree. Shooting Victor a sidelong look, he nodded toward where Jed and Redford appeared to be very much absorbed in their own conversation. Jed was gesticulating wildly, pacing back and forth, clearly still upset.

"I'm not going to get a bunch of f.u.c.king a.s.s sniffing furry hippies killed, Red!" Jed's voice was decidedly louder than necessary. Victor and Randall had hardly needed to get within ten feet before every word was heard crystal clear.

"But it's their choice!" Redford replied. Victor struggled to recall a time when he'd ever heard Redford speaking at a volume above a hushed murmur, and couldn't think of one. "You wouldn't be getting them anything, Jed."

Jed stomped away, all of a few feet, before turning back around, waving a finger at Redford. "I've been here before. I'm not doing this, not here, no f.u.c.king way."

Even from ten feet away, Victor could see Redford's eyes nearly cross as he attempted to focus on Jed's finger, looking faintly offended that he was getting it shaken at him. "They're not asking you to lead them into war," he said. "They're not actually asking anything of you, just your opinion. And you saw what happened back there. You advised them to run, and they might pick the war. n.o.body's death will be on your head."

"Yes they will!" Jed actually turned and threw the laptop at the side of the cabin. Randall flinched as it smashed against the wood. "Jesus f.u.c.k, it's going to be on me. If I stay, it will be my f.u.c.king fault if they die."

Randall moved closer to Victor, their arms pressed tight together. Randall was watching Jed and Redford worriedly. This was his life they were debating, Victor realized. His future. Victor would go home and back to his house, his cla.s.sroom, but if the wolf pack decided to run, it would mean the Lewises picking up and leaving with them. If they fought, it could be Randall who died.

"Actually," Redford said softly. "It will be on me. I'm the one Randall hired, remember? I'm the one in charge of our business presence here. You said it yourself."

"We are so far beyond that, Fido, and you d.a.m.n well know it."

"We're not idiots." Randall's voice was so quiet, for a moment it didn't seem anyone had heard him. Jed dragged his gaze from Redford over to Randall, scowl deepening. Victor gave an awkward half wave, attempting to look like he wasn't hiding behind a bush and listening in. "We are wolves. We might not know this fight, but if you think we don't know what hunters mean-"

"This ain't your business, kid," Jed muttered. "You and the professor go back to making kissy faces at each other and leave us alone."

"Jed!" Redford's eyes had started flickering toward yellow, even as his shoulders rounded in embarra.s.sment at Randall's presence. "That's exactly his business. That's his life, the future of his people. Don't you think he gets a say in that?"

"I'm not talking about him." Jed had dismissed Victor and Randall again, moving forward toward Redford, voice lowered to a desperate hiss. "Jesus, Red, come on. I'm not talking about what they do, I'm talking about us. You and me. I'm not going to stand around here and let you get turned into me."

Victor was glad n.o.body was looking at him, because he gave such a momentous roll of his eyes that he nearly permanently flipped his eyeb.a.l.l.s.

"Jed, that's...." Redford sounded like he was struggling to catch up with the new topic. "I don't care about me right now. This pack is facing a war, and we need to decide if we're going to help or not."

"That's what I'm telling you. I don't care about one d.a.m.n thing but you." Jed's hands landed on Redford's arms, gripping lightly. "I'd help them relocate, but-"

"Us." Randall interrupted again, this time with a low growl. Jed's fingers immediately slid away from Redford, the distance between them all that much more obvious. "You're talking about us. And fine, you don't want to stay around here, you want to take off, fine. I'll find someone else. I'll get someone in here who will teach us how to fight these men. Or we'll figure it out on our own. But, Jed, I don't want to run. We shouldn't run. And you know it."

"Where the f.u.c.k do you get that idea?" Jed bit back.

"Because you're fighting it so d.a.m.n hard." Randall squared his shoulders, meeting Jed's eyes boldly. "If you really just thought we were idiots and it was a bad idea, you'd insult us, get in your van, and go. But you're actively arguing for the other option. You're scared."

"f.u.c.k you." Jed folded his arms tight across his chest. But he also didn't deny it.

"I'm scared too," Randall murmured. "I don't want to fight. That's not who I am. But it's the logical choice. Running will only prolong this."

Redford only had eyes for Jed right then. He took Jed's elbow, getting his attention. When he spoke, it was so low that Victor barely heard him. "I know why you don't want to do this. I know it's hard. But if we leave without helping them, they will die. By being here we can help make sure they survive."

Head bowing, Jed let out a slow breath. "What are you going to do when they die, Red? How am I going to look you in the eye when I force you to kill someone? That's what I do, babe, not you."

"I've already killed," Redford said gently. "And it hurt. And I felt bad about it. But then I remembered that I did it for us. Because I love you, and because I'm not the guy stuck in my grandmother's bas.e.m.e.nt anymore. I'm free, and I chose this, because you showed me a better life."

Once again, Victor was starting to feel supremely awkward. Did he have a talent for walking in on intimate conversations?

"And when these wolves go to war," Redford continued, "some of them will die. And I'll be upset about that too, but at least I'll know that we tried."

"It's not better," Jed muttered, stare firmly fixed on the ground. "Doesn't matter how right it was to kill those guys, there shouldn't ever be blood on your hands. Not yours. Jesus, Red, it's not better. It's a cage. I'm keeping you in a G.o.dd.a.m.n cage, just like...." He broke off, rubbing a hand across his face, all but biting back the rest of that sentence. "Fine," he sighed, louder, refusing to look at anyone. "Fine, I'll f.u.c.king train the La.s.sie squad."

"We'll train them," Redford corrected. Victor noted that he didn't bring up the cage comment again.

"Yeah, great. We'll train them." Jed's arms were crossed tightly across his chest, brow furrowed.

"Thank you," Randall attempted, only to have Jed growl under his breath and stomp off in the direction of his and Redford's cabin. Randall looked a bit deflated, but he turned to Redford, sincerity in his voice, and tried again. "Thank you. For what you're going to do."

Redford looked uncomfortable at the praise, but he did smile slightly. "We're all wolves, right? Wolves should stick together."

The first time Victor had met Redford, the man had practically hidden behind anything bigger than he was to avoid seeing other people. The fact that he was smiling at Randall and tentatively including himself in a group was a rather big improvement.

"Although I don't know how much gun training would really help," Redford admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Everybody here would rather fight as a wolf."

"Then you and Jed can teach them that." Victor nodded over at the group of wolves lazing around near the fire. "See them? They may have hunting instincts, but that isn't knowledge of what to do in a fight against someone with a gun."