I leaned away from the counter, gathered up the bag and loose items, and dropped my free hand to my side.
Before I knew it, Lu’s palm was there, just like it always was.
I pressed my hand against hers. Just as I always would.
Chapter Three
The girl in the doorway watched Lu and me walk toward her. Her eyes dropped to the backpack in my hand only once, then flicked back up.
Strangely, her gaze locked on Lu. Most people would assume I was the bigger threat, just from the size of me.
But this girl— No, she was something more than a girl. Thisbeingwatched Lu, liquid eyes wide and frightened, every muscle in her tuned tight as a harp string.
As if Lu were the threat instead of the huge man beside her. Maybe she was right. Lu could take care of herself and me. Had done so for almost a hundred years.
“All right now,” I said, as we reached the door. “Step outside, please. Let’s give this man his rightful space.”
Her nostrils quivered a second, maybe a twitch, maybe she was scenting me, scenting us. She bit her top lip, sucking it under her teeth. Then she blew out a breath and took big, backward steps, not turning away, her eyes still wary.
“Is this your backpack?” I asked.
She blinked. Nodded.
“We’ll give it to you. We just want to know your name. And if you’re okay.”
Lu tipped her head, hearing it before I did. The soft sound of feet in the dry grass, the measured breathing waiting, waiting. We were not alone out here. Nor were we the only monsters.
“I’m Ra—I’m Abbi,” the girl said. She pulled a flower out of her pocket, just a little wild thing with yellow petals, and picked at the stem, slowly snipping off bits with her fingernails. “I’m okay, but I think I need a ride.”
“She doesn’t need a ride,” a woman’s voice said from the ramble of weeds that butted up to the parking lot.
The werewolves were not a surprise. We were in their territory, had been since we crossed from St. Louis to Gray Summit. But I was surprised at how many were here. Six I could see, another six scattered in the tall grass and trees beyond the lot.
The speaker was strong, old enough to have silver popping through her dark, spiky hair.
“That so?” I asked. “What’s Abbi got to say about that?”
The woman narrowed her eyes, then held her hand out for Abbi. “She has nothing to say. Abbi. Come.”
Abbi finally looked away from Lu and squared her shoulders. She walked toward me with a kind of drifting grace I wouldn’t have expected from a girl that young, and stopped right in front of me.
“Abbi,” the woman said. A warning. Frustration. She took one step forward, the other werewolves shifting at her movement.
“Not yet, Summer,” Abbi said.
I tensed to put myself between the pack and the girl, but the woman, Summer, stopped, and so did the others. From the tilt of her hips and her fingers in a loose fist, she wasn’t angry, just annoyed.
“You found my backpack,” Abbi said.
“Lu found it.” I held it out for her.
“You bought it for me.”
“Sure,” I said, like it was nothing. I held very still, working to make my body language show my awareness of the werewolves, protectiveness of Lu, and worry for the girl.
From the tension in Lu, being unalive had not improved my ability to be subtle.
The werewolves could probably see the fight in me, and I knew Lu itched to pull a dagger, just so they knew whoever tried to touch me would bleed.
