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I forced a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Hudson.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.”

Hudson hesitated. Behind him, the pack gathered near the path. Hilary called that they were leaving in five minutes. Several teens had already disappeared into the woods.

“You should go,” I said. “Really.”

His gaze held mine. “We’ll talk once I get back.”

The words sounded like both a promise and a question. “Okay.”

Hudson handed me the blanket, then followed the others toward the trail. When he glanced back over his shoulder, I waved.

Patty waved, too, with enough enthusiasm to make us appear completely normal. We waited until Hudson disappeared beyond the meadow.

One adult I didn’t recognize stayed with the littles. Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Alfonse had already gone home after the movie, and the remaining children were gathering for popcorn and a second, less radioactive film.

The field emptied. The night became quiet. I turned to Patty as she released my shoulders. Neither of us spoke for several seconds. Then she picked up her keys from the chair. “We should go for a drive.”

My stomach dropped for an entirely different reason. “Why?”

The humor had left her face, but not the kindness. “Because there are some conversations you don’t have around people who can hear a mouse sneezing from half a mile away.”

11

SLOANE

ZERO PERCENT FUNNY FROM THE PREY POSITION

Patty didn’t wait to see whether I followed her instructions. She crossed the gravel parking area with the absolute confidence of someone who’d decided to speak their mind and refused to waste time waiting for permission.

Terrified, I trailed behind her, clutching the blanket against my stomach as if it were a shield capable of stopping a bullet, while my mind frantically attempted to rank the possible outcomes of this impromptu field trip.

Best-case scenario, Patty wanted a quiet, private chat with me about nothing of importance. Worst case, she intended to deliver me directly to Hilary for immediate justice. A much more imaginative case, which my brain kept returning to with disturbing enthusiasm, involved a shallow grave somewhere beyond the property line where she would bury my bones after gnawing them clean to preserve the secret of her family’s existence.

Her car was parked at the far side of the lot. The black Mustang was far too polished and aggressive to belong to a woman who spent most of her free time arguing about fictional undertakers and painting crying moons onto bedroom walls.

She unlocked the vehicle with a quick click of her key fob, still not looking back at me. “Get in.”

I stopped beside the passenger door, my fingers freezing on the handle. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Away from everyone with enhanced hearing,” she said, her tone completely matter-of-fact.

She slid behind the wheel before I could protest. I stood there, seriously considering the logistics of turning around and sprinting back to the highway. Unfortunately, I had spent only a few weeks trying to improve my physical stamina, and Patty was a member of a canine dynasty. Whatever the word latent ultimately meant, I had to assume she could easily track me down and tackle me before I even reached the first mailbox.

Accepting my defeat, I got into the car. The interior of the Mustang smelled faintly of sweet vanilla, acrylic paint, and expensive leather. Several colorful enamel pins were pinned to the fabric above the glove compartment, and a tiny plastic skeleton wearing a ridiculously small cowboy hat hung from the rearview mirror.

Patty twisted the key in the ignition, and the car came alive with a low, rumbling growl. It was a mechanical purr that instantly made my sedan seem less like actual transportation and more like a sad household appliance I used to crawl through traffic.

She didn’t say a word as she backed out of the space and turned the nose of the car toward the dark gravel.

I decided to match her silence, mostly because my mouth was too dry to speak. The quiet expanded as we passed the illuminated windows of the hall, then the cluster of family houses, and finally the last row of parked trucks.

Dense pine trees lined both sides of the drive, their branches casting long shadows in the headlights as we descended farther away from the safety of the gathering.

Shit, what had I gotten myself into?