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“Bowling team uniform,” Connor whispered, and I bit back a chuckle.
“Another elder?” I asked.
“His name is Patch,” Connor said. “He’s their, let’s say, spiritual leader.”
“That means he picks the best whiskey.” It was Alexei’s voice that whispered beside me, and damned if I hadn’t totally missed his sidling up to me again.
“How do you do that?” I asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “We’re wolves. We stalk prey. This should not be a surprise.”
I rolled my eyes and demanded better of my predatory senses.
“We are gathered here,” Patch said when the crowd quieted, “to welcome William Avery into the arms of this territory, into the arms of this clan, and into the arms of this Pack.”
There were hoots and shouts of approval, a few hearty claps.
“I’ve known Cassie and Wes, and of course Georgia, for a very long time. We all have. They’re part of the family we’ve grown here. We’ve watched Cassie learn to cook—and occasionally battled fires because of it.”
Sister from another mister,I thought.
“We’ve seen Wes’s skills with a bow and arrow grow. And those times he isn’t so skilled. And now they’ve made this beautiful baby boy.”
He reached out his arms. Cassie pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, then handed him over to Patch. The child went big-eyed, clutched at Patch’s beard.
“May your life be long,” Patch said. “May your love be deep. May your laughter be loud. May you be strong and proud and happy. May you remain a member of the clan, a member of thePack, a wolf until your days are no more. May you find peace in the world around you, solace in the woods, and your family waiting when you return.”
He leaned in, whispering something into the child’s ear, then stood straight again. “You have the object?”
“We do.” Wes held out something long and silver. Patch took it, draped it around the child’s neck.
William immediately popped it into his mouth.
“Military dog tags,” Connor whispered. “Wes’s father was in the Army, killed in duty.”
“Shifter?”
“Yeah. Bribed a doctor to let him skip the physical after he ran the quarter mile in record time. Wes wanted to enlist, follow in his footsteps, but shifters were banned by that time, and there were no bribes to be had.”
A damn shame that was, given shifters were stronger and faster than humans, could heal themselves, at least under certain circumstances, and had a pretty good disguise. The ban was less practical reality, I figured, than human prejudice and jealousy.
“I hereby deem you, William Avery, a member of the Grand Bay Clan. And with the acknowledgment and approval of the Apex, a member of the North American Central Pack. Blessings on you and your family, and congratulations.”
He handed the child back to his parents as applause and shouts rang through the darkness, echoing off rock and water. The baby clapped and tugged at the dog tags as his parents, smiling and misty-eyed, looked on.
After a moment, Patch held up his hands again. “We also have responsibilities,” he said, shifting his gaze back to the clan. “We are to hold this child. To protect it and keep it safe. It is our responsibility to keep the clan strong for little William, and give him a home to always return to.”
A few more shouts and agreement in the crowd.
Then Patch closed his eyes, held up his hands, and began to recite. “‘I will not be clapped in a hood / Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist.’”
Goose bumps lifted on my arms as the shifters around me, Connor included, began to join in the recitation. “‘Now I have learnt to be proud / Hovering over the wood / In the broken mist / Or tumbling cloud.’”
“Yeats?” I asked quietly, and felt Connor’s eyes on me.
“Yeah. You know it?”
“Educated guess,” I said, and thought of my mother, the vampire with the master’s degree in English literature. “My mother told me he was important to shifters.”
