His eyes snap at mine. “What? Me? Nothing. It was Cami’s idea,” he says, then makes a beeline for the living room.
I close the door after making sure there aren’t any stragglers while they continue to argue.
“We can be nice about it—,” Cami insists.
“—He clearly needs some tough love,” Marcus says over her.
“He just needs some rest,” Matt chimes in.
As much as I’d love to stand here and listen to whatIneed, I also want to get it over with. I have three open cases, one serial killer on the loose, and a man to get information out of. I really don’t have the time for whatever this is.
When I walk into my living room, they all abruptly go silent.
“You know I could hear you guys, right?” I ask calmly.
They ignore me and look at Matt.
“Why do I have to go first?” he grumbles.
Cami sighs. “Fine, I’ll go. Nick, this is an intervention,” she says firmly.
Everyone nods, gazes focused on me.
“The fuck?”
“When was the last time you shifted?” Marcus asks.
“You have bags under your eyes, Nick. When was the last time youslept?” Matt asks.
“You were slightly rude to Meena the other day, which is, you know, basically unheard of,” Cami adds.
I close my eyes. “I’m fine. You’re clearly overreacting,” I say. “I have a lot of work, so if this is it, I’d like to go back to it now,” I add firmly.
“Nope, not that easy, man,” Sloan says. Because why wouldanythingbe easy?
“Okay? I’ll sleep more,” I assure Matt, but it comes out a little more mocking than I intended. His expression goes blank, and I feel like the worst person in the world. “And I wasn’t really rude to Meena,” I hedge. Not that she can’t take it because she’s not, you know, overdramatic like this bunch of aspirational theatre kids. No, wait, Bree was actually one.
“You were. You argued with her, which youneverdo,” Cami says.
I sigh, resigned to whatever their plans were for me. Were they right? No, they’re just being dramatic.
Bree throws her hands up in defeat. “Alright. You don’t want to talk about it? Don’t talk about it. We’re going for a run,” she announces.
“I took Mickey for a run this evening,” I say, just to be contrary, which, now that I think of it, is extremely unlike me.
“Don’t be unnecessarily airheaded,” Bree calls me out. “We’re doing a group run. It’s beensolong.”
The idea of letting my body free, feeling the breeze against my fur-covered skin, surrounded by the smell of wet soil, fresh leaves, and wildlife, calms something in me. I breathe out slowly, all the fight flowing out with it. It wasn’t really a fair fight, anyway. First, these were some of the strongest, sharpest werewolves in the world. And they've always been on my side and want what's best for me.
I nod, and everyone sags in relief. It would be funny if I were capable of feeling much other than overwhelmed with work right now.
Mickey finally trots out now that the danger is over, the perfect guard dog that he is, and keeps the guests entertained while I change into comfy clothes. With the amount of cooing and baby voices I hear in the next ten minutes, I decide they’re all getting dog-sitting duties. They deserve it after today’s performance.
The fact that I didn’t hear a single argument when I informed them tells me it might not have been a threat to begin with.
***
We park deep in the forest. No one needs idling humans to accidentally stumble into six full-grown wolves running in a forest where they clearly don’t belong. Typically, werewolves need to shift once a month to keep their body and brain healthy, less if they live less stressful lives, if that’s even possible in the current political climate.
