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“What is wrong with this town?” I whispered fervently.
“—and all the humans saw everything. And then a few days later, the main hunter—a woman named Elijah—tried to blow up the bar with everyone inside. But she failed and only ended up killing herself. And everyone pretty much saw all of it. So that’s how they found out about werewolves.”
He said it like it was nothing, like he wasn’t upending the entire world. “And they just accepted it.”
He sounded amused when he said, “Mostly. There were a few outliers. People who couldn’t handle it. People who were afraid.”
I hesitated. Then, “Did you kill them?”
“Uh, no?” He was baffled. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “How else would you stop them from telling everyone?”
He snorted. “So you automatically went with murder. Good job.”
“Hey!”
“The few who couldn’t deal, they….” His brow furrowed. “Well. Gordo altered their memories. Took it all away.”
“Like father, like son.” I meant it as a halfhearted joke, but the words were bitter, and it fell flat.
His gaze sharpened. His voice was hard. “No. Not like that at all. Gordo isn’t his father. He did what he did to protect us. And to protect the humans. He did it so no one would get hurt. As for the ones who remember, they’re not pack. Think of them as pack-adjacent. We don’t have bonds with them, but we do have an understanding. We protect them. This place. Green Creek is….”
“Different.”
He nodded. “It is. Our family has been here for a long time. Generations. The land here, it isn’t like it is anywhere else. There’s a power to it. It sings. I think it was always meant for wolves.”
“And all of this somehow led to Carter becoming the mayor.”
“Weird, right? I don’t even really know how it started. I think someone said something to him, and the next thing I knew, elections were being held and he was running unopposed. The previous mayor decided it was better if there was someone younger running the town. And since we already own most of Green Creek, it was easier if it was one of us. Keeps things simple.”
Jesus Christ. Michelle had to have known about all of this. And she kept it from me. “And you work for him?”
He blushed a little like he was embarrassed. “I’m a deputy.”
“What.”
He rolled his eyes. “We had a couple of deputies here, but one of them died because of the hunters. We didn’t want something like that to happen again, so it just made sense that we had someone who knew what they were doing.”
“What,” I said again.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Get it all out. I’ve heard it all. Rico kept asking me if I was going to pitch my own TV show. Called it Werewolf Cop. Said we’d make a fortune in merchandising and syndication.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea if you think about it.”
“This is stupid,” I said. “All of this is stupid.”
He sighed. “And yet, it’s the way things are. You….” He trailed off, looking distant.
I didn’t want to know. “I what?”
He ran his fingers over the pages of his book. I could just make out the cover, a snarling dog underneath the word Cujo. “You were excited about it,” he finally said. “When I told you. I wasn’t sure it was for me, but you said I would do a good job. That people would rest easier knowing I was out there.” He took a deep breath. “Because you felt the same way. Knowing I was there.”
I couldn’t find a single word to say. It was all too much. This life. We were talking about me, but it might as well have been someone else entirely.
He shrugged awkwardly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything. It’s just the way it is. Or was.”
I nodded as I swallowed, throat clicking.
He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe we should—”
