Laura woke to the sound of Rick’s cell phone ringing. It was sitting on the floor next to the bed, and he rolled onto his side to reach down for it with a bit of grumbling. She didn’t catch exactly what he said, but it sounded disparaging about anyone who would call at this hour of the morning.

Laura looked to the curtained windows. She had gotten good at judging the time based on the light, and by her guess it was a little before eight in the morning. Her head was a little fuzzy from the night before, but nothing that a coffee and some breakfast wouldn’t fix.

Rick checked the screen of the phone before answering, then put it up to his ear. “Hey Danny, what’s up?” Danny was the owner of a small construction company that gave Rick the bulk of his work.

Laura got up and climbed over Rick to get off the bed, putting more weight on him than was strictly necessary in mock reproach for the early wakeup. His grin back at her said he understood, though she was sure that he had hardly noticed the weight. She could hear Danny’s voice on the other end, and Rick’s attention went back to the phone call. She made her way to the bathroom, always the first stop after a night like the one just past.

Afterwards she went out to the kitchen. She could hear Rick talking in the bedroom, but it was low enough that she couldn’t make out the conversation. It was somewhat unusual for Danny to call Rick at this time of day. Generally Rick knew days in advance when they would need him. She put on some coffee and began preparing breakfast, eggs and toast. After a moment’s thought she pulled out a second frying pan and put on some bacon as well. Rick liked his meat.

She heard footsteps as Rick came out of the bedroom, probably drawn by the smell of food. A quick look at him showed that he was getting ready to go out, however, as he was wearing jeans and buttoning up a flannel shirt. Flannel meant work.

“Danny ask you to work today too?” Laura asked.

“Yeah, he sounds really stressed about something,” Rick answered, the shirt now mostly done up. “Which is weird, Danny isn’t the type to stress about rush jobs.”

“Well slow down a bit and come have some breakfast first,” Laura said, motioning to the worn kitchen table. When Rick began to shake his head, she continued. “It doesn’t matter how much of a rush Danny is in, you have a few minutes to eat something before you leave.”

Rick chuckled, a smile appearing on his face. “I guess you’re right, a few minutes won’t make any difference.”

He came and sat down at the table. Unlike at the bar the night before, this chair didn’t creak at all under his weight. When he had bought the place Rick had gone through and fixed up anything that groaned or squeaked, so while the kitchen set was fairly old and worn looking, it was still in great shape. Rick was handy like that.

She brought a plate for each of them then poured some of the coffee that had just finished brewing. Rick sipped at his appreciatively.

That made her think of a question to ask. “Do shifters get hangovers?”

“Yeah, that’s one thing we don’t seem to be able to heal through,” he said with a smile.

Most of what Laura had learned about shifters had come through moments like this, some set of circumstances pointing out something she hadn’t otherwise thought to ask. This one question sparked a few more that she hadn’t wanted to get into last night.

“You didn’t seem too friendly towards Dillon’s group last night, even before whatever they said about me.”

“They’re no friends of mine,” he said around a mouthful of toast. “Word around town is that they’re involved in the drug trade all over the state. I don’t know if any of that is true, but from what I’ve seen they’re not great people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just a few things,” he replied, having moved on to the eggs. Rick had this odd habit of eating all of one thing on his plate before starting the next. And she noticed that he always left the thing that was his favorite for last. “They’re pretty pushy with the locals, even start fights at the bar sometimes.”

“That seems odd, I thought shifters would want to be more low-key than that.”

From what Rick had told her, the number one rule of every shifter group, regardless of species, was to keep the secret of their kind. She wasn’t sure how that fit with running drugs and fighting in bars. Probably not well.

“Most of us do,” he said, pausing in his eating for a second to think through his words. “The locals I’ve talked to told me their group changed a lot a few years back, right around the time Dillon took over. Seems like he doesn’t care too much for low-key, and there are enough wolves in his pack willing to go along with him.”

It was tough to grasp why any shifter would be willing to live like that. If the world at large learned about their kind there was no telling how bad it would be for them. Best case scenario, they would be feared and hated by the general populace. Worst case, any who could be caught would end up in secret government labs having terrible experiments performed on them. There was too much power in the things they could do for the world to just ignore them and allow them to continue living as they had been.

Rick obviously saw the thoughts playing out on her face. “At the end of the day, shifters are just like people in a lot of ways. Some of us are talkative and some are quiet. Some are relaxed, others aren’t. And some of us are reckless.”

“Do you think that’s all it is, recklessness?” she asked, taking another sip of her coffee.

“It’s my best guess. I don’t think Dillon is very old, and wisdom usually comes with age.”

He appeared as troubled as she felt at the thought. Rick and the people he cared about up in Canada were put in a more dangerous situation by the actions of shifters like Dillon.

He was almost finished his plate of food by this point, having saved the bacon for last. “I’ve spoken to a few bears that live in this state, and most of them are worried about Dillon’s crew too. Problem is, what can they really do? It will take someone within the pack stepping up and taking the title of alpha from Dillon, and it hasn’t happened yet.”

“There’s no other way?” she asked, genuinely curious about the structure of shifter groups.

“None short of showing up with a group of angry shifters and running them out of town. And that would not be low-key.”

She supposed it wouldn’t at that.

Rick stood up then, hands carrying his cup and plate for the trip back to the sink. She motioned for him to leave them there. He needed to get on the road.

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” she asked, standing up and pressing herself into him. She rested her head on his chest, and felt his arms envelop her.

“Not too sure, hopefully by tonight. If not I’ll give you a call.”

Rick had called to have the landline reconnected in the cabin about a week ago, as Laura still didn’t have a new cell phone. That was something she would have to take care of soon.

“Alright, let me know when you can,” she murmured, feeling like Rick’s embrace alone could keep the world’s trouble away.

“I will. Love ya.”

“Love you too.”

With that, Rick put on his boots and was out the door. As she usually did, she stood at the friend door and waved to him as he left. He waved back as his old red truck drove off.

With that, Laura was alone again. Her day was free, but she needed to spend it really thinking about what came next. It had been nice to spend a night out, pushing away all the pressing decisions about her future, but that couldn’t go on for long.

She busied herself cleaning up the remains of breakfast as she thought. As she saw it, there were really only three possibilities. Each some seemed either too dangerous or a betrayal of her brother.

The first option would be to just give up and go to the police. She could tell her side of the story, Joyce would back up her story about being at the cabin when Craig was killed, and in regard to the man she had shot, well he’d had a gun in his hand at the time. She was sure Rick would be willing to back her story as well, but she could hardly put him in the spotlight like that. His secret was just as important as whatever was going to happen to her. More actually, since it affected so many people other than just Rick.

There were a few problems with this idea, though. Well, more than a few. First off, there were a few circumstances that would be tough for the police to swallow. She had showed up just in time to witness her brother’s final passing? That seemed awfully convenient. And how precisely had she gotten back to New York? She didn’t want to mention Rick, regardless of his almost certain willingness. Also, the police might not believe her when she said she had shot that man in self-defense. The lowlifes who had chased them out of the apartment must have taken the gun from the man she had killed, otherwise the story she had seen on the news would have mentioned it.

Beyond these problems, could she even trust the police in New York? If Vascenti hobnobbed with the mayor, it stood to reason he had friends on the police force as well. But realistically, if he was running gambling halls and other shady businesses, he almost certainly had cops in his pocket. There was a very real chance that she wouldn’t be given a fair shake if she just turned herself in.

The kitchen was back to a pristine condition by the time these thoughts had run themselves through her head. She made her way back to the bedroom and grabbed yesterday’s clothes. Rick had a small washing machine that she loaded up as she began mulling on the second possibility.

For all intents and purposes, this one was a Hail Mary. She had an address for a place that might be one of Vascenti’s gambling halls. She could go there, maybe with some recording equipment on her, and try to get anything at all on Craig. She thought briefly about staking out the outside of the place for as long as it took until Vascenti came, but quickly threw that idea away. A man as powerful as that was very unlikely to ever visit the lower-end establishments he ran. It wouldn’t do for there to be pictures of him at places which he wouldn’t want to be associated with.

There were so many holes in this idea that it barely even merited consideration. Laura had never been to an illegal gambling hall, but she was willing to bet that the clientele was mostly guys, which meant she would stand out. Beyond that, the people working for Vascenti were already looking for her, so going directly to them might not be the best idea. And finally, what could she possibly hope to record there that would exonerate her? Hey guys, I heard you murdered a guy then blamed his sister for it, good one! Then she would record them as they talked all about it.

She walked back out into the living room, shaking her head. It was kind of silly of her to even be thinking about doing something so dumb, but at the moment kind of silly might be all she had. She poured herself a second cup of coffee and went out to the backyard. Sinking into a lawn chair that had probably been left by the previous owners, Laura began to go over the third option.

Give up. Accept that there was nothing she could do to bring Craig’s killers to justice, even with the help of a man who could take a bullet and still thrash a couple thugs. The reality was that her only plays were likely to end with her in jail or dead, and which would do nothing to put her brother’s killers behind bars. Maybe the only option was to walk away.

But could she live with that? With the knowledge that armed gangsters had beaten her brother to death in her home? Could she accept that the man behind it would in all likelihood continue living a life of comfort and ease? That other people might end up dead just like Craig?

She didn’t know if she could. What would she think about herself in ten years if she just gave up now? What kind of person would she see in the mirror?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of motorcycles pulling into the driveway. Laura’s heart skipped a beat. She was not expecting company, certainly not company driving around on choppers. She stood up from the lawn chair and moved against the back of the cabin, slowly and quietly moving to the corner to get a look at whoever it was.

A quick peek showed two big black Harley’s and a small blue car in the driveway. Two men were climbing out of the car, and the two riders were standing up and removing their helmets.

One of them was Dillon.

Fuck.

Laura inched away from the edge and slipped on her shoes, which had been sitting on the step leading up to the back door. She had no idea what they were doing here, but there was no way she was sticking around to find out.

She heard a knock on the door then. It was softer than she would have expected, more businesslike rather than angry biker pounding. She hesitated. She wanted to run to the forest, hoping she could remain hidden, but if their hearing was anything like Rick’s they would notice her. She had no illusions about her ability to outrun or hide from wolves.

She heard a voice from the front of the house. “We know you’re here, so just come out and save us all some time.”

That pretty much made the decision for her. They were here for her. She had to try to get away unnoticed.

She began to walk slowly toward the tree line, doing her best to place her feet softly so as to avoid their notice. She only got ten or twelve feet, however, before she heard a call from the front. “She’s in the back! Ed, Bruce, stay with the car. Holt, you’re with me.”

Laura bolted, making it into the forest in what seemed like an instant. Trees blurred by her as her legs pumped, pushing her forward even faster. The forest here was mostly old trees, leaving the ground mostly bare. Rick had told her that once trees got big enough they made it so not much could survive under them due to the lack of sunlight. She kept mostly to smooth trails, only deviating where she thought it would save her time.

Her only hope was to get to the river. She knew the wolves would be able to track her by smell, and they obviously ran much faster than she was capable of. But the river’s current was fast, and if she could get to it with enough of a lead, maybe she could swim downriver and outdistance them.

She came to a stop, chest heaving with the exertion of the sprint. She was about half-way to the river, and a quick look behind her showed no sign of pursuit. She gave herself a few seconds to catch her breath then set off again, still running, but no longer sprinting.

It didn’t make sense, she should have been caught already. Even Rick would have caught her by now if he was in his bear form, and she had no reason to believe wolves were any slower.

She was getting close to the river when she saw a flash of movement to her left. She slowed a little, turning her head to look, but could see nothing in the dim light of the forest. After another couple paces, she saw something move to her right. A quick glance showed a wolf, its long strides clearly outpacing hers.

Dammit.

She picked up her pace, throat already burning at the unaccustomed exertion. She angled slightly to the left. If she could just get to the river…

A chest high wolf burst out of the trees right in front of her, forcing her to skid to a stop. Her breath was coming in through quick gasps, and she backed up slowly away from the wolf. It walked forward at the same time, keeping the distance between them the same.

It took her a second, but she realized that this was one of the same wolves she had met in the forest before. She recognized its bright grey eyes. It had to be Dillon. Anger surged through her at the realization.

“Really? You’re here again to scare me?” she said through gritted teeth. At this point, the anger had mostly pushed away her sense of fear, but there was still a remnant that she did her best to clamp down on. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do?”

The wolf shifted suddenly, bones cracking and elongated face retracting, going from a chest high beast to a man faster than she would have believed possible. It was Dillon, standing there before her as naked as the day he was born.

The eyes were the only thing that stayed the same. He was of average height, a few inches taller than Laura, and muscular. Not in the same way Rick was. Rick looked like he could pull an adult tree straight out of the ground, but this man looked like a soldier. No extra mass where it wasn’t necessary, just pure athleticism. His face was handsome, narrow but well proportioned. His jaw was straddling the line between long stubble and a short beard, while his face had a haughty cast to it, as if he was too good to be out here in the woods running down a woman. He had a few tattoos, the most prominent a large circular pattern on his shoulder. His eyes looked her up and down, and his lips pulled up into a smirk.

“Well aren’t you just so brave around shifters?” he asked, his voice carrying a mixture of arrogance and amusement. His posture conveyed a complete lack of concern about his nudity, as if there were nothing more normal in the world.

She supposed that for someone who lived at least some of his life as an animal, it probably was fairly normal. “Enough of this shit! This is Rick’s property and you’re damn lucky that he’s not here right now.” A quick glance to her right showed her the other wolf standing off to the side. It wasn’t quite as big as Dillon had been, but it was still huge.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, darling,” came the reply, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on Dillon’s face. “I had a couple of my guys pay a visit to Danny this morning. They persuaded him to give Rick a call and offer him some extra work.”

Laura’s mind was whirling after Dillon spoke. They were here for her. They had brought a car with them. They meant to take her. But it didn’t make sense. What was she to them?

“What is this about? You aren’t actually pissed off at what I said to you near here a few days ago are you? Because that would be really petty.”

Dillon tilted his head back and laughed long and hard. His body shook with the force of it, and he raised a finger to one eye to wipe away a tear. “You really are pretty brave for a human, I’ll give you that. No, I’m not here to settle some petty grudge. I’m here because I’ve been paid to pick you up.”

Laura’s stomach dropped. At the same time, she still didn’t fully understand. “You work for Vascenti?”

Dillon’s eyes widened upon hearing that name. “That’s who’s looking for you?”

“You don’t even know who you work for?” she asked back, her tone acerbic. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I don’t work for anyone darling, but when some city boys offer me good money to pick up some broad who am I to say no? Now let’s go.”

He stepped forward and took her by the arm, turning her back toward the cabin. His grip was firm, but surprisingly gentle. A quick look at his face showed that he was still processing what he had learned.

Laura supposed that this was the moment where she was supposed to hit him, or spit on him, anything to show her defiance. She was just too tired though. Weeks of worrying about what the future would bring had come to this. Her future was settled, and it wasn’t good. A small part of her even felt relieved. She wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that she had given up on Craig’s murder. If this went like she expected it to, she wouldn’t have to live with anything too much longer.