They found an abandoned house at the edge of the city, dilapidated and reeking of mildew but with several small bedrooms. It was located at the end of a broad culde-sac among several other houses that also seemed abandoned; despite the mildew it was in a newer development, the investors of which had apparently gone bankrupt before they'd even finished paving the streets. Many of the houses were half-built, slabs of concrete with pipes reaching upward, waiting for plumbing that would never be installed, for wood frames that would never be hammered into place. They planned to stay for a week at most, then move on, just as they had been.

Arthur had given them some money, so Tala took Malcolm to the store to buy groceries while the rest of the boys wandered off to look for jobs. Lawson got lucky right away. Since they'd been on their own, he'd learned the best way to find work was to hang around the parking lots of big-box stores where other unemployed men gathered, and quickly got himself hired as part of a ground crew. He spent the day clearing out someone's yard and was paid fifty bucks for his trouble.

A fortune to them.

He came home that night and handed Tala a small cardboard box. "For you."

"What is it?" she asked, opening the lid and looking inside.

"I saw someone order them. They looked good." He had watched, in front of the town bakery, as people pointed toward bread loaves and mouthwatering pastries, leaving the store with delicacies that smelled so delicious it almost drove him insane.

Tala picked up the pastry and bit into it.

"I think it's called a cream puff," he said.

She laughed at the joy of it. A tiny circle of cream dotted her nose.

Lawson quickly kissed it off her nose, then grinned. "I love you," he said abruptly.

"What did you say?"

He was surprised. He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud, but her laughter had awoken something in him. He felt, for the first time, that they would make it after all. The year was almost over, and they were still aboveground, still safe. Edon would learn to forgive him, and Malcolm, who seemed weakened by his transformation, would grow stronger. The youngest boy's transition to life aboveground had not been an easy one, and Lawson worried that he had never fully crossed over, that when they'd made the break, Malcolm was too weak to undergo the change, and that part of his soul still remained back there. The youngest boy was always ill; his nose was always running; his back hurt; his eyes were dry.

Lawson had many worries: the biggest was the plight of the rest of the wolves in the underworld. Marrok would take care of them, he hoped. Since the five of them had returned to Hunting Valley, Lawson kept going back to check, visiting the place where they had landed when they first crossed from the underworld, but so far, no one had appeared in the glen. No other free wolves. Perhaps their plan had failed.

He didn't know if he loved Tala because of who she was or because she made him feel hopeful and made him forget. But he'd said it. I love you.

"Never mind." He shrugged.

She looked embarrassed for him.

But it was true. He loved her. He loved Tala and he wanted her to know it.

She said nothing more to him that day. She continued to eat the cream puff with a serious expression on her face, and then they went inside and she made them dinner, asking them gently to eat with the forks and knives as Arthur had taught them. The past year, Tala had been the linchpin of the family, holding them all together. Maybe that was confusing him; maybe his feelings stemmed from her being crucial to their survival. In a way, he was glad she hadn't responded. Now he had some time to think about how he truly felt.

The pack settled into a routine. Lawson, Edon, and Rafe went to the big-box store early in the morning to pick up whatever odd jobs they could. Tala and Malcolm worked at home  -  Tala was in charge of housework and cooking, and Malcolm studied the books Arthur had given them to try to understand the extent and limitations of their power in this new world. Wolves were not immortal - they had not been bestowed with that gift - but they were long-lived and fast-healing and infinitely stronger than mortal men. They surprised construction crews with their ability to lift heavy objects; bags of cement that the men used to haul in wheelbarrows, Lawson, Edon, and Rafe tossed to each other like beanbags.

Every night Lawson would come home to find a mouthwatering concoction simmering on the stove while Malcolm talked excitedly about what he'd learned that day. The youngest spent most of his time working on a spell called the dogwood defense, one that he had read would protect the house from the hellhounds.

"We're hardly wizards," Edon would say, but then he'd ruffle Malcolm's hair. He seemed to be less angry; sometimes he even spoke directly to Lawson, though never about anything significant. Most of the time it was to ask him to pass the salt at the dinner table. Lawson accepted that, hoped his brother would come around soon. He was tired of feeling guilty; besides, like he'd told Edon, he'd left the portal open for any others to cross over, and he meant to return if that didn't work, and when he did, he would bring all the wolves out of Hell with him.

Lawson wasn't sure if Tala was avoiding him, but they never seemed to be alone together. It was fine for now, because he had grown embarrassed about sharing his feelings for her. After all, if she felt the same way, wouldn't she say something? He tried to put her out of his mind, but every day there she was, with her shy smile, wearing her worn T-shirts that just skimmed her flat stomach, her faded jeans clinging to her slim figure, dark roots starting to show through her bright pink hair.

After a couple of weeks Malcolm decided he understood the spell well enough to attempt it. "I'm going to need everyone's help, though," he warned. He assigned everyone tasks: Edon was to carve the runes into the front door, Rafe was to gather the necessary herbs for the mixture, and Tala and Lawson would smear them around the house, making sure to leave no gaps.

Ringing the house with the herbal mixture Malcolm had created was painstaking work, much more so than Lawson had anticipated. They started on a night when he'd come home from work early. The sun was just starting to set, and the glowing pink matched Tala's hair. Lawson held an enormous vat of the foul-smelling, steaming stuff while Tala scooped it out and spread it on the ground. They worked in silence for what felt like hours before Tala announced that she needed a break.

"Sure," Lawson said. "Should we take a walk, stretch our legs a bit?"

"That sounds good. I could use a few minutes away from that smell."

They wandered away from the house, walking a few blocks in the twilight darkness without speaking. The air was cool, the sky clear. Lawson's hand brushed against hers a few times, but she didn't pull away. They hadn't been this close since the day she'd dyed her hair so long ago. There hadn't been a lot of opportunity to be alone on the run. Finally, he couldn't bear it, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. It was natural, instant; she fell into his arms and his lips were on hers. He barely had time to worry about whether she would respond before she started kissing him back. She tasted of bubble gum, sweet and soft.

She pulled away for a moment. She looked into his eyes in the darkness. "Do you remember what you said to me, a couple of weeks ago?"

"How could I possibly forget?"

"Did you mean it?"

Lawson stroked her cheek. "How could I not?"

"Well, I love you too," she whispered.

He grinned. "Of course you do." Feigning arrogance, but what he really felt was relief. And happiness.

Tala laughed. "Don't get cocky."

"Shut up and kiss me again," he said, running his hands under her jacket and layers of thin T-shirts, wanting to feel her skin on his, wanting to get even closer than they were.

She kissed him back for what seemed too short a time, then pulled away again. "Come on, we need to get back. We have to make sure the house is protected."

So they trudged back to the house and the dogwood spell. Lawson hoped Tala was paying close attention to the task at hand, because he couldn't concentrate on anything but this new feeling, this complete joy he'd never felt before. He hoped it never went away.

Chapter Four

One cold morning in December, Lawson woke to find the clock blinking 12:00 in faded red neon. He wandered out of his room to find Tala and his brothers sitting in the living room, staring at a dead television. "What happened?" he asked.

Edon shrugged. "Power's out. They must have figured out that no one really lives here. We should bail."

That was Edon's mantra, a never-ending drone: they needed to move on; if they stayed anywhere too long, the hounds would find them. But this time Lawson had resisted. The older boys had found real jobs at the town butcher shop; Mac was enrolled in a local public school. Best of all, he and Tala were often able to sneak away in the night and spend time together, even if they both knew it wasn't a good idea for things to go too far, for the boys to find out. Somehow, in the past month, he had ended up doing what he had sworn he would not. He was settling down; he was starting to feel comfortable. He had to admit - he was tired of running, tired of looking over his shoulder. Besides, there was still a chance - impossibly slim of course, but still there - that other wolves would somehow be able to escape through the portal he'd kept open, still a chance that Marrok would join them. He didn't want to leave just yet. Besides, with some work and ingenuity they'd made the abandoned house their own, with curtains and bookshelves and a kitchen that smelled like cinnamon and honey. Tomorrow they would run, always tomorrow.

"We're fine," Lawson said. "The dogwood spell will protect us."

"So you think. Do not forget that we are wolves, creatures bred for battle, not spells and potions," Edon argued.

"I think we should stay," Tala said, glancing meaningfully at Lawson.

"Me too," Rafe said. "I like it here."

"Well, if we're staying it would be nice to find some way to get the TV turned back on," Malcolm said.

"We'll check it out," Lawson said quickly, and motioned for Tala to follow him.

Once outside, they walked quickly out of the cul-de-sac toward a more populated area, where it soon became clear that the power was out in the whole town, not just in their house. Mystery solved, they had some time to be alone.

They found an empty bench and sat down. Lawson nuzzled Tala's neck. "Don't you think it's time to tell the boys about us?" he asked.

Tala shook her head. "I think we still need to wait. Rafe and Malcolm might not be ready, and Edon's still sad about Ahri."

It was true; the week before had been Ahramin's eighteenth moon day, and Edon had slipped into a funk that took days for him to shake out of. Lawson had been pretty depressed about it himself. They all knew what it meant. If Ahramin was still alive - and there was no guarantee the hounds had let her live after they escaped - she was surely a hound now, which meant they could never get her back. "I guess you're right," he said. "We'll just have to keep sneaking around."

"At least you saved Edon in time," Tala said. The oldest had made it to eighteen without being turned, and a wolf who managed to gain full form without being turned into a hellhound was said to be free forever. They were planning a surprise party for him that night, when he was no longer expecting it. Lawson had saved up some of his money to buy a small pig from the local butcher, and Rafe and Malcolm had set up a makeshift grill from a barrel and a window grate.

"We should get home and start dinner," Lawson said.

He spent the afternoon getting their food ready, thankful that the grill didn't require power. Edon seemed to appreciate the gesture and blew the candles of his homemade cake with a smile. After taking a bite of his slice, Malcolm suddenly announced that he had a stomach-ache. "You don't like the icing?" Tala joked.

Malcolm shook his head. He was thin and anemic-looking, his bony ribs poking through his thin T-shirt, and when he bent over, his shoulder blades protruded from his back like two small wings. Lawson had hoped that he'd start growing stronger, and had been slipping him extra food at meals, but nothing seemed to help.

"It must have been the pig - maybe I took it off the fire too early, it must have been too rare," Lawson said, blaming himself for Malcolm's stomach pains.

Tala helped Malcolm lie on the couch and placed a bowl under his head just as Malcolm vomited up his dinner. "We need a bucket! Now!" she yelled, and everyone scrambled to help.

Lawson was bringing a plastic bucket into the living room when he heard the knock at the door. Strange - no one had come to the house in the months they'd lived there.

Another knock. Sharper this time, more urgent.

"Who is it?" Edon asked, coming up beside him. He had a pinched, anxious look on his face, and Lawson knew it was because they didn't have any neighbors and no one knew they lived there. No one was supposed to know about this house. And now someone had come. But who?

He felt a growing trepidation in his chest, a tightening, a darkness. Lawson could feel the end coming, but he didn't want to acknowledge it yet, did not want to think about what it meant. It was nothing, just a stranger at the door, nobody, no one, it didn't mean anything, he told himself.

"Probably just the postman or something, I'll take care of it. Go see how Mac's doing," Lawson said. He'd taken on the role of alpha here, was used to giving orders, even to his older brother. Edon did as he was told.

Lawson's mind was racing in fear, but he was just nervous, he told himself. He pushed aside the metal shutter that covered the peephole window. It was dark, almost black, and he couldn't see anything. He wiped the glass with the edge of his shirt, and when he looked through again, he saw that the darkness had coalesced into a tall, thin form. A girl.