“Okay, now I’ll teach you something,” I say. “Get a little bit of that mashed potato and put it on the broccoli.”
Frowning, Cassie does.
“Now try it.”
Her frown deepens as she picks up the broccoli and puts it in her mouth, but then her eyes clear and she chews enthusiastically.
“It tastes better!” she exclaims. “It doesn’t even taste like broccoli now!”
“Aha!” I say, giving her a little high-five. “This is just the beginning. Mixing food with other food is great.”
Cassie nods, focusing on her food and using the spoon to mix things together.
“You’ve done it now,” Sadie laughs. “You’ll find your shampoo mixed with your toothpaste next.”
“Well, as long as she doesn’t try to eat it.”
Sadie raises her eyebrows. “You really don’t know much about kids, do you?”
I chuckle. “Apparently not.”
We finish up the meal, and even though the conversation between us is sparse, it’s friendly and a vast improvement over silence or fake niceness. After we eat, Sadie takes Cassie for a bath, and I clean up the kitchen. By the time I’m done, it’s time to tuck Cassie in, so I go and say goodnight to her before I go out to meet up with the other alphas.
As I stand in the doorway watching Sadie read Cassie a story, I feel a deep, nagging frustration inside me.
I want this to last forever… but so far, this has not even had an effect on the disease. If nothing happens—or worse, people begin to die—the council will want Sadie’s head!
***
I drive out to our usual bar, a quiet little dive on the outskirts where we like to meet simply for its location, which is more easily accessible to all three of us than a nicer place further in town. Owen and Shane are already there at a back table, and they wave me over.
“We need to talk,” Owen says before I’ve even sat down. “Whatever it is, it’s getting worse.”
“Has anyone died?” I ask.
Owen shakes his head, but his expression is grave. “I had two young kids lose the ability to shift today, and they came down with symptoms of a head injury,” he says. “They started throwing up, got dizzy, couldn’t stay on their feet. It was bad.”
“How are they now?” I ask.
“Stable. Normal. But they have no shifter abilities.”
“Shit.”
“Right?”
I turn to Shane. “How about you, any good news?”
Shane shakes his head. “I haven’t had any new cases, but no one is getting better, either. Please tell me you’ve got some progress in your pack—we need to know that something’s working.”
“I thought it was,” I reply. “My own powers seemed to return, but it isn’t stable. They come and go. What about you?”
“I’m as weak as a day-old kitten,” Shane says.
“I haven’t been able to shift for over a week, and I’ve got no powers,” Owen adds.
I sigh, looking down at my hands. The weight on my chest feels like a ton of rocks, and I can barely get the words out.My fear and frustration break through it all, and I react without thinking.
“There’s nothing else to say, okay?” I snap. “Just back the fuck off.”
