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He slanted me a sideways glance. "You don't mind getting personal, do you?"
I shrugged. "When you can't remember anything of importance, you quickly learn to ask questions, personal or not."
He was silent for a moment, but his gaze roamed across the darkness and there was an alertness about him that suggested he was ready for trouble. If that trouble was Denny, then he could relax. Werewolf or not, I didn't think he'd be capable of walking for a day or so. I really had hit him hard.
"My mother came from a different pack, hence the blue eyes and lighter skin."
"And I'm guessing the pack never let you forget that you weren't entirely one of them."
His gaze flicked to me. "What makes you think that?"
"Because I know what it feels like to be unwanted by the pack."
"That's an odd statement," he said, "given your brother has been heard to say that his upbringing was happy."
I shrugged. "That doesn't mean mine was."
"Indeed." But again, I got the impression he just didn't believe me.
The caravan park came into view. Few lights were on and the caravans were little more than hulking shapes in the darkness. The perfect place for an ambush, except the cool air was free of any scent. The only people out in this darkness were Harris and myself.
"I can make it the rest of the way by myself," I said. "You don't need to baby-sit me."
"I'm protecting my packmates, not you." It was said as flatly as he said everything else, but this time, the teasing hint of amusement touching his lips also reached his eyes.
I smiled. "Good night, Officer Harris. I daresay I'll be seeing you around."
"Not in any official capacity, I hope."
I raised my eyebrows. "Does that mean you're open to unofficial approaches?"
"No. It simply means stay out of trouble."
"I'm not sure I'm capable of doing that." And the truth of that statement echoed right through my very being.
Trouble and I were old mates. Of that I was sure.
"Good night, Hanna," he said, then turned and loped off into the darkness. I watched him disappear, then headed past the caravans and to the villa.
Evin was sitting on the sofa drinking a beer, his bare feet up on the coffee table. "There's more in the fridge,"
he said, as I entered the room and closed the glass sliding door.
"Thanks, but I'm more a champagne person." And why wouldn't my own brother know that? I dropped down on the other sofa and crossed my legs. "So tell me about our pack."
He raised a pale eyebrow. "Why? You'll remember it soon enough."
"Maybe. Maybe not." I hesitated, then added, "You had a happy childhood?"
"Why?"
"Because I feel like I didn't. When you mentioned Mom before, I had this very weird feeling." I hesitated. "And yet if you were happy, why wasn't I?"
He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well, you did have the tendency to get into trouble. Some of the stories about you and - "
He stopped dead and confusion crossed his face.
"Me and who?" I asked.
