“Maybe,” I say, then glance at my phone. “Hey, it’s getting kind of late. My rentals weren’t home when I got back earlier, and they’ll be pissed if I’m not back before they’re asleep.”
From the odd way Katie is staring at me, I know she knows there’s more going on inside my head. But she also knows me well enough to know I’ll talk when I’m ready, so she lets my obvious avoidance slide.
Outside on the sidewalk we say goodbye, hugging tightly under a streetlight.
“Congratulations again,” I say. “She’s a college girl now!”
“Woo!” Katie throws up her hands and does a little dance.
“Message me tomorrow, kay?” she says. “I want to get maximum hang time in this summer.”
“Definitely.”
We part ways and I begin to walk to the subway.
“Hey, Max,” Katie calls out and I turn. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
Gently, I kiss the pads of three fingers, then blow the kiss in Katie’s direction. She catches it and slips it into her back pocket.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ll save it for after dinner. Bye!”
She disappears around a corner, and I head for my subway station. As I wander past bars and delis, I’m fascinated by the people walking by.
Everyone is in tank tops and shorts; one guy is blasting music from a massive Bluetooth speaker he’s got on his shoulder. A couple of girls are roller-skating down the street, laughing.
I love summer in New York. Sure it’s hot and humid as hell, but I kind of like the way the air hugs you. Being out at night, without a jacket or a sweater, makes the world seem full of possibility. The city feels electric. The people seem energized, ready for anything.
Strange that none of these humans know how close they are to being collateral damage in a werewolf war.
Before I reach the station I come across a chain-link fence, behind which is an abundance of greenery. Trees and vines line the fence but behind them are rows of raised garden beds, overflowing with beanstalks and tomato vines, sunflowers, and all manner of plant life. A sign tells me this is a community garden.
It’s funny because I’ve been down here so often and yet I’ve never really stopped to notice this. An Asian woman is currently digging in one of the beds, even though it’s dark out, and a short distance away, an elderly white man is watering another. The woman calls something I can’t make out to him, and he laughs, nodding, continuing with his work.
With a small smile playing on my lips, I turn and continue on my way.
If only werewolves could come together like these nighttime gardeners, maybe there’d be less pain and less violence, and who knows what might grow out of it.
Half buoyed by this strange, fizzing sense of optimism, but also half on edge because I know some wolves, wolves like Walter, will never be convinced, I arrive at the subway. I’m halfway down the steps when Jasper’s voice arrives in my mind.
“Max, you there?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Morven is already here. Must have jumped straight on a jet. He’s speaking with Mia now but we’re meeting in the morning. Can you be here?”
It’s finally happening. The meeting that could turn the tide of this war.
“I’ll be there.”
BETWEEN THE ROCKY PACK AND A HARD PLACE
The conference table at the packhouse is a black marble triangle that sits pointing toward the similarly angular corner of the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around on two sides. Outside, the day looks nice, the sun is blazing, the sky a perfect summery shade of blue, clouds drift by in perfect pillow shapes. But inside, the atmosphere is tense.
I wasn’t sure about coming today, but Jasper convinced me to join this meeting. He said as the acting luna, plus the blood wolf, and with my connections to rogues and all the involved parties, I would be a useful participant.
Believe me, I’d rather be somewhere sketching or eating one of my dad’s grilled steak sandwiches. But the time for sticking my head in the sand is over.
I hover at one corner of the epic table.
