Dawn was breaking over the city by the time the scene was cleared, their statements given, and Cooper and Park were free to go home. All Cooper wanted to do was crawl into bed with Park and spend the next seventy-two hours alternating between sleep and watching his living, healing fiancé breathe. But there were still a few loose threads to tie up.

Cooper watched Hirano and her partner, Alice, cling to one another as they spoke to Cola about thirty feet away. Eli sat on a bench, knees pulled up to his chest next to Park, who was wrapped in a thick blanket. He was still suffering the effects of the toxin the most, but all three of them were working it naturally out of their systems and would be perfectly fine in a couple of hours, fully functioning werewolves with no lasting damage. Physically, anyway.

Abruptly, Alice pulled away from Hirano, who seemed reluctant to let her go, and walked toward him.

“Hello,” he said when she stopped a couple feet away and rocked from foot to foot in silence. In many ways, it felt like the last few days had been leading to this moment and he resisted the urge to add something theatrical like Ah, so we meet at last, while twirling his imaginary mustache. “How are you feeling?”

Alice eyed him critically for a moment, then glanced back at Hirano, who was blatantly watching them over Cola’s shoulder. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve lived through worse?” she said eventually.

Cooper shrugged because yeah, he would. Life was, if nothing else, unfair, and from what he knew, Eli and Alice’s seemed harder than some.

“Worse than feeling human?” he said lightly. “Your brother doesn’t seem to think that’s possible.”

Alice huffed as if amused despite herself. “My brother’s first word was a whine.” She sobered quickly. “I’m sorry your friend is dead.”

What could he say to that? He wasn’t my friend? I wish I’d realized that a long time ago? Cooper sighed. “Yeah.”

She drifted closer. Out of fur, she and Eli had little in common besides the color of their eyes. She seemed to be constantly in motion. Shifting her weight from left to right, stepping closer and then back again, fidgeting and twisting in place like she was suddenly looking for unseen danger hinted at in the wind. Even her facial expressions were on high-speed rotation: amusement, fear, sadness, suspicion, and more, all flitting across her features as if every minor, passing thought garnered a reaction and she had no practice, or interest, in hiding it.

“Is Ms. Hirano all right?” Cooper asked when Alice didn’t seem inclined to say anything else.