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“How old is he?” I hissed, the man’s thinning silver hair and wrinkled folds making me think he had been born in another era.
“103,” I heard, but it wasn’t Dominic who answered. The old man didn’t bother turning toward me and I elbowed Dominic in the side, hissing almost silently, “You could have warned me he has the hearing of a bat!”
“How was I to know you’d ask his age?” Dominic said defensively.
“Because he looks older than time?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the old man retorted, finally turning toward us. “You’re a first for me. A breeding female raised among humans.”
I frowned, slightly insulted at being called a ‘breeding female’ it sounded entirely too much like being called a brood mare. Dominic wrapped his hand around mine, prying my fingers loose from the fist I’d made. “It’s not an insult,” he murmured between his teeth. “It’s one of our most prized titles. Do not insult him over it.” He paused and then added, “Please.”
I unclenched my teeth and whispered back just as quietly, “Only because you said please.”
The old man just watched us, smiling faintly, and I had the feeling he heard every word we spoke.
“Back to the business at hand,” Caleb’s dad broke in, the command in his voice snapping everyone’s attention to him, even mine. “You’ve all been informed of what the girl – ” he broke off as Dominic’s dad leaned toward him, whispering. Caleb’s dad glanced up at me with a curious expression, but quickly continued. “Jess has brought some interesting information to us and in light of it we need to reconsider our strategy.”
“We don’t have the numbers,” Anna’s mom said, the words tired like she’d said them a dozen times before. “Yes, Dominic is a force to be reckoned with, that was made clear by the two dead Hanley men yesterday. But we don’t know their exact numbers and we just don’t have enough men to fight. We’re a small pack.”
“I’m not sure we have a choice anymore, Gillian.” This time it was Dominic’s dad, Hank, who spoke. His expression spoke of frustration, not with Gillian but the situation. “We need to be prepared. An offensive strike may be our only chance.”
“And our children? The members of the pack who aren’t capable of shifting? Do we force them to fight as well?” Anna’s dad sounded defeated. “It could be annihilation.”
“Leaving would be the safest choice,” the old man said, his voice strong in spite of this frail body. “Packs roamed in the past. We’ve become complacent.”
“Wolf packs roamed. That’s no longer an easy option. We need land for the ones who can shift. Jobs for those that can’t. Picking up and leaving is a last resort.”
“At least we’ll live,” Gillian cried out fiercely.
“But we will no longer be a pack!” Caleb’s dad roared, causing me to jump at the power radiating from his voice.
“We should go,” Dominic whispered, pulling me along the bench as I stared at the five elders locked in conflict. Dominic’s dad met his son’s eyes for a brief second before flickering to mine and he nodded respectfully. I suspected he’d communicated with Dominic, but didn’t want to ask till we were far away from listening ears.
Once we were outside, I noticed the sun had dipped lower in the sky. I reached for my phone to see the time and cursed.
“I need to –”
“Get home.” Dominic finished for me and I nodded. “I’ll walk you.” He gave me a rueful grin. “I imagine you have a few questions.”
“A few,” I agreed.
“I’ll do my best,” he stated, and waved his hand toward Anna who stood next to Caleb by one of the houses. They both waved, but didn’t make an effort to join us. “Anna might actually be able to explain some of it better than I can, but I’ll try.”
I nodded, but stayed silent as we made our way to the path in the forest. I wanted some semblance of privacy before I asked the questions racing through my mind.
“There’s a shorter path back to the motel, but much rougher,” Dominic told me, keeping his long strides in check as he steered us to the wide path I’d come in on. A guy met us at the edge of the forest and handed Dominic something. It wasn’t until we’d gone down the path that I realized what it was. Dominic handed me a water bottle and a single dose pack of ibuprofen.
A foolish grin fought to escape, but I forced it back as I tossed the pills in my mouth and swallowed them with the water. I pressed my lips together and glanced up at him, mouthing “Thank you.”
“Least I could do,” he said nonchalantly, keeping a polite distance between us as we walked.
“It’s kind of you,” I murmured, no longer feeling unsettled as we walked through the forest. He made a noncommittal noise and I dropped it, instead focusing my attention on what I should ask. There were so many questions running through my mind that I finally gave up. “I don’t know what to ask you. I don’t even know where to start.”
