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"Which would be just fine, if you could convince other werewolves to respect your wishes. Live and let live is not the werewolf motto, no matter how hard you and I might wish otherwise."
He looked at me then. Really looked at me for the first time since I'd approached him.
"This isn't my world either," I said. "I was born human. Raised human. I like being a werewolf--I won't lie about that--but there are parts of it that I really don't like. I've spent two days chasing a twenty-year-old kid about to be framed and killed by a couple of mutts for man-eating. I follow him to Anchorage and what happens? Completely different mutts find him first and cut off two of his fingers. He didn't challenge them. He even said he wasn't sticking around. But they wanted him gone now. That's the world we live in. These mutts are going to find you and when they do, you won't be able to ask them nicely to leave you alone. They already kil--" I stopped short. "Clay needs to talk to you."
The shields fell again. "No."
"It's about your father."
Joey scowled. "Oh, hell. Let me guess. Dad whined to Jeremy about me, and sent Clay to have a little talk. My old buddy to set me straight."
"No, your father didn't say a word to Jeremy. But I did talk to your dad's landlord yesterday. I take it you two had a falling-out?"
"No, we just... We drifted apart."
From what the landlord said, it sounded like Joey had done the drifting. Further separating himself from everything werewolf in his life, including his father.
"Look, about the mutts?" Joey continued. "Tell Clay I appreciate the warning. If you're having trouble tracking down my dad, I'll do it and I'll pass on the message. But Clay doesn't need to worry about me. I'm not a werewolf anymore--not like you two are, not like my father is. I'm a regular guy struggling with a disability that makes me disappear into the shed twice a month and change into a wolf. I don't run in Anchorage. I don't run in the forest. I don't even hike outside the city. These guys aren't likely to cross my path and if they do, I'll go the other way. Now if you'll excuse me..."
He started walking away.
"Joey."
He stopped, shoulders tightening. "It's Joseph."
"I'm sorry." I walked up behind him. "Joseph. About your father. I really wanted Clay to tell you, but we went to his cabin last night. We found him." I paused. "He's dead."
His head slumped forward. I stayed where I was, behind him, respectfully out of sight.
"Was it them?" he asked, turning toward me. "Those werewolves?"
I nodded.
His gaze moved to mine. "And you wonder why I don't want anything to do with this life? Because this is where it gets you. No matter how nice you are. No matter how hard you work to avoid trouble. This is your end. Murdered by mutts. Buried in the woods." He paused, glancing away. "I take it that's what you did. Pack protocol and all." The words carried a bitter twist.
"Yes. We had to."
"Exactly my point. A short, brutal life ending in an unmarked grave."
I waited a moment, then said carefully, "Your father seemed to be researching something."
"Oh, my father and his damned research. There was a time when we were on the same page, wanted the same thing--to be left alone. Then I decided that wasn't enough. But just when I'm backing out of the life, he's diving into it. Gets that cabin. Decides to rediscover his inner wolf. A damned midlife crisis."
"Do you know what he was--?"
"I know nothing about my father's life in the last couple of years. I didn't care to. Now, please tell Clay I'm sorry, but I don't wish to see him, and I would appreciate it if you'd both leave Alaska as soon as possible."
He started walking away quickly.
"Joseph, please. We just want--"
He disappeared into the building.
I waited, hoping he'd come back out. When he didn't, I made it to the corner before a familiar sensation washed over me. I didn't turn, just waited for Clay to fall in step beside me.
"Didn't go as well as you hoped, huh?" he said.
"No."
