Raina raised a fist. “Bitch.”
Rhonda bumped her fist. “Skank.”
Daniel’s eyes reflected sadness. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” She kissed him on the lips, then faced the others. “Keep it real but not too real. Stay out of trouble, and lie low.”
Rhonda got into the Jeep, keyed the ignition, and revved the engine. She waited until she had pulled into traffic and her friends receded in her rearview mirror to wipe the tears from her eyes.
A fresh start, she thought as she raised the volume on the radio.
Angela and Arick watched a minivan depart the snow-blanketed campground.
“That’s the last of them,” Arick said.
“Will you be staying?” Angela said.
“That’s what Gabriel would want,” he said.
“Good.” She liked having him around. Although Wolves mated for life and John Stalk had been her man, she found Arick’s presence calming.
“I’ll go lock the gate after them.”
She watched him trudge through the snow to the truck, then went into the cabin, where Melissa read to Damien and Gareth. “It’s just us now.”
“What about Daddy?” Gareth said.
Angela tried to show no reaction.
“Daddy is helping the pack,” Melissa said in a soft voice. “It may be a long time before we see him again.”
“I miss him,” Damien said.
“So do I.”
Angela admired her sister-in-law’s strength. They had to rely on each other.
“Aunt Angela says we’re our own pack now.”
“Yes, we are.”
That was the key: smaller packs comprised of family units. Angela intended to be a good alpha female, with Arick and Melissa to help her. And maybe someday they would reunite with Gabriel, hopefully on a small settlement and not in a prison.
One month after the battle on Mott Street, Mace reported for work at 26 Federal Plaza. His new position consisted of reading reports and filing comments on them. He didn’t even know who read the comments, if anyone. He passed through security and rode the elevator to the Bureau for Werewolf Affairs on the twenty-fourth floor, where he signed in and followed the maze of narrow corridors to his small office. None of the bureau’s professional agents or suits acknowledged him. Despite his fame, he was a dinosaur in this new world, and he liked it that way.
The nameplate on his door said, Captain Anthony Mace, NYPD Consultant. He didn’t do much consulting, and he suspected his superiors had assigned him to his current position to keep him out of the limelight. He liked it that way too.
Snow fell outside his window, and he hung his coat and took his seat. A new year had arrived, which felt appropriate. He logged on to the bureau’s website and began his morning routine of reading classified e-mails.
Someone knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
Norton entered. She wore a padded brace over her collarbone. He had not seen her since the ceremony in Washington, D.C., when the president had presented her, Landry, Candice, Karol, and himself with gold medals for defeating the Brotherhood of Torquemada. The irony wasn’t lost on Mace. Willy and Shelly had received posthumous medals, and Mace and Karol had the chance to chat with Willy’s mother.
“Welcome back,” Norton said. “How was your vacation?”
“Good,” Mace said. “We spent it with my in-laws.”
“How’s Cheryl?”
“She’s doing well, taking it one day at a time. We’re looking at houses on Long Island, which is where she always wanted to raise Patty.”
They had moved out of Bay Ridge. Mace decided to rent the upstairs apartment as soon as Eduardo had cleaned it to help cover expenses since Cheryl had not returned to work. He made Eduardo his superintendent and handyman to justify giving him and his family of nahuals free rent. Cheryl had never voiced her suspicions about the family to Mace.
“I’m still waiting for a photo of that darling daughter of yours.”
“Here.” He took out his wallet and handed her a photo of Patty.
Norton stared at the photo. “Aw, thanks.”
“I hear they offered you a promotion to stay and work under Hollander. Congratulations.”
“I turned it down.” She gestured at his office. “This isn’t for me. I’m a traveling woman. Besides, I don’t want to make any difficult decisions—that’s your bag. I’ll just go wherever they send me and do whatever needs doing.”
He understood. “What about Suzie?”
“I can travel to Manhattan too, right? I hear Karol’s accepted a position as an NYPD liaison with the bureau.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” Karol had already told him the news.
“I figured you’d want to know.” She winked at him. “Hopefully she’ll be in a position to do some good.”
He nodded at her hand, where she had received stitches. “How’s your injury?”
Norton flexed her fingers. “Better. I have scars all over, though. I’m thinking of getting tattoos to cover them.”
“Sexy.”
She motioned to his hand. “How about yours?”
He turned his fist so she wouldn’t see that the deep gashes in his fingers hadn’t even left scars. “Like new.”
“Really? I’m glad to hear it. I guess your cuts weren’t as bad as mine. Hey, look what I got.” She removed an envelope from her blazer pocket. “A subpoena to testify before Senator Prince’s subcommittee.”
Mace held up an identical envelope. “I got one too.”
“Are you going to appear?”
He shrugged. “We’ll see what the bosses say. I don’t know nothin’.”
She returned the envelope to her pocket. “Well, I’d better get going. They’re sending me to Seattle.”
He knew from some of the reports he had read that a Wolf pack was rumored to exist in Seattle, and vigilantes had taken to torching the homes and businesses of suspects. “Good luck.”
“You too.”
He watched her leave, then returned to his e-mails. Sooner or later, he expected to come across clues to Gabriel’s whereabouts. He never forgot his friends.
Bio
Gregory Lamberson is the author of the occult detective series The Jake Helman Files (Personal Demons, Desperate Souls, Cosmic Forces, Tortured Spirits, and Storm Demon) and the werewolf series The Frenzy Cycle (The Frenzy Way, The Frenzy War, and The Frenzy Wolves) as well as Johnny Gruesome, Carnage Road, and The Julian Year TREEbook. He is a two-time winner of the IPPY Gold Medal for Horror, a three-time Bram Stoker Award finalist, and he conducted the first interactive online book signing. Lamberson is also an award-winning filmmaker whose work includes the midnight movie cult classic Slime City, its sequel Slime City Massacre, and Dry Bones. Fangoria magazine called him “the hardest working man in horror.” His website is www.gregorylamberson.com.
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