“What is it?” I ask.
She turns and hands us both a mug of steaming herbal tea.
“You’re a rogue,” she says to Omar. “And you’re going to help a pack fight another pack.”
“They’re not just hurting the packs,” he says in return. “They’ve been going after rogues as well. As far as I’m concerned this is everyone’s fight.”
“I wish the rest of the rogues felt the same,” I say, blowing on my too-hot tea.
Aisha is holding her cup in one hand, pressing the other into the counter. “Makes perfect sense to me,” she says. “These packs are always fighting and nothing seems to get better.”
“But we can’t just let Walter win,” I say.
“If it isn’t Walter, it’ll be someone else.”
She sips her tea and doesn’t look me in the eye.
“You don’t believe that.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Come on, you think Jasper is just like Walter? He’s not even like his dad. He could ... I don’t know ... I think he could really change things.” Aisha is looking at me sideways, as if she’s fighting an unconscious urge to clap back but stopping herself because maybe, just maybe, I’ve hit on something true. “Isn’t that worth fighting for?”
“You asking me to come with you too? To some undisclosed location and give my life up for a pack that turned its back on me?”
“I hoped I wouldn’t have to ask.”
Her eyes glisten with the first glimmer of tears. Gently, she places her mug on the counter.
“I’m sorry, Max,” she says. “I can’t.”
Leaving her tea, and us gaping at her in shock, she passes through her living room and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
For a second, I stare at the closed door. When this all started, I never could have imagined I’d end up friends withtheAisha Miller. And now, well, her closed door speaks volumes.
“I’m sorry,” Omar says.
I shrug. “It’s fine, I get it.”
“So, you can’t tell me where we’re going. What about this mind trick?”
Quietly, I lay out what I can of the plan, telling Omar that I need his help with the ritual to help me enter the Lunar Plane. He agrees and I tell him we’ll pick him up in the morning. Aisha doesn’t come back out before I head home to say goodbye to my parents.
The porch light is on when I get home, having Ubered back from the station. Maybe I need to get my own set of wheels, I’ve gotten used to zipping around in Jasper’s. Though of course they’re now parked safely in the basement of the packhouse.
I head inside and find my parents watching TV.
“Hey kiddo,” Mom says.
“Hey,” I say, lingering in the doorway.
They’re snuggled together on the sofa, a blanket over their legs. They look cute, cozy, bathed in the warm light of the TV and the dim glow of a nearby lamp.
“What are you watching?” I ask.
“Just some trashy reality show,” Dad says. “It’s strangely captivating though.”
“Got room for one more?” I ask.
