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“Why don’t you wipe them out?”
“Because it’s not that simple. We have to maintain the supernatural balance, and they convert humans if their numbers get too low.”
“Wolf shifters can convert people too, can’t they?”
“Yes, but we don’t. Our genetics give us our abilities.”
“So, if you bit me, I’d change into a wolf?”
“Only on a full moon.” He shifted in the driver’s seat, hands clenching on the wheel.
This shit was complicated enough, and to an outsider…
“Oh.” Tamaska went quiet.
Kodiak glanced at her as she looked out the window into the darkness of the night. He nearly asked her what she was thinking, but the silence made it easier for him to drive. Made it easier to pretend her line of questions were done.
But they weren’t.
“What’s the hut really used for?” she asked.
The slight change in questions wasn’t really that much of a shock, still…
“I already told you,” he said, “we use it to go hunting safely. We use it to change forms without being seen.”
She turned in her seat, and her gaze burned into him. “I’ve seen your wolf in the city, so you do change there.”
“It’s not that complicated. The hut serves as a real getaway, a place to retreat to if things ever got bad. But it’s like I said: It’s where we like to go to change and run free.” He paused. “I have my own place way further out for when I just need to be alone and let my wolf go.”
She didn’t speak. Not for a long time. “But you can’t deny you changed in Sydney into a wolf. Twice that I know about.”
Yeah, he’d done that, which he shouldn’t have, but things weren’t as cut and dried as she seemed to want to make them. “We only change into our wolf forms in extreme circumstances.”
“Like when you’re fighting vampires?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.
“Yes.” A thrumming beat hit him as he gripped the wheel harder.
She kept pushing an angle he didn’t quite get and wasn’t sure he wanted to. They were about to walk into what could very well be a shitshow, and things could go south very quickly.
Right then he’d prefer to concentrate on the road, the bends, and traffic, instead of heading down whatever path it was she was trying to lead him to. But he waited because she wasn’t finished.
“What about your wolf?”
His pulse increased at the meaning hiding there behind her words. She wanted to know something, get at something, and he didn’t know what.
“What about my wolf? He won’t hurt you, I promise you.” He glanced at her out of his peripheral vision. She rolled her lips together in thought, lips he wished he could kiss.
If he kissed her, maybe he’d be able to end whatever line of thought these questions were taking her down.
“Your wolf isn’t entirely happy.”
He frowned. “My wolf is under control,” he said.
“I saw your wolf in your eyes at the hut. He wasn’t happy.”
“I don’t see why this is important.” He desperately tried to steer the conversation away from her target.
“Tell me exactly why your wolf isn’t happy.”
