by Jason Starr
Alison was banging on the door saying, “Simon, what’re you doing in there? Simon, you’re really scaring me now. Please say something.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“What?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said. “I . . . I said I’m fine.”
His stayed in the bathroom for a couple more minutes, splashing his face with water, and then returned to the bedroom.
“What the hell just happened?” Alison asked.
“It must be part of the disorder.” Simon didn’t know what else to say.
“You’re going to see Dr. Levinson as soon as possible,” she said. “Maybe you can even get an appointment for tomorrow.”
When Simon got back into bed, Alison was on her back with her eyes open, facing the ceiling. The room was dark except for some light from the nightlight in the bathroom.
He kissed her on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
He hoped he was telling the truth. He remembered Michael saying, You’re exactly like me now, and Volker Hartman’s warning that if the wolves’ blood spreads, It will be the end of all of us.
“I know it will,” Alison said.
Lying on his back, Simon could hear Alison’s heart beating and, when he focused, Jeremy’s soft breathing in the next room. At the moment the future didn’t concern him; he just wanted to enjoy this time with his family, where he belonged. When Alison turned onto her side, Simon turned as well, holding her from behind, clinging to her, as they drifted into sleep.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Many thanks to Gabriel Mason, Nick Harris, and Brian DeFiore; without their early support and encouragement, this novel wouldn’t exist. I’m also fortunate to be part of a wonderful community of writers, including Alison Gaylin and Michelle Gagnon, who read early drafts and had many invaluable suggestions. Chynna Skye Starr helped me through several tough plot points and was a great sounding board. Susan Allison believed in The Pack from the very beginning, and her input improved the book in so many ways. And big, big shout-outs to the librarians, booksellers, and readers who have made my career possible.