and continued. “I’m saying it might not be so good an idea for you to sleep up here if someone you

trust isn’t with you. So. Either we stash you someplace nobody knows about, or . . .” His face

worked itself up a little, like he was sucking significantly on a lemon. Like I should know where he

was going.

It took my poor busted brain a few seconds to figure out what he was suggesting. “Or you stay here.

Um, I guess not, Shanks. I mean, I trust you and all, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

He looked almost green with relief. “Well, cool. Because Graves would have a fit. He’ll probably be

back anytime now. He knows we can’t leave you alone. So—”

A lightbulb turned on inside my head. “I’ve got an idea,” I said, and I told him.

Like I expected, he didn’t think much of it. “You’ll end up with your guts for garters, Dru.”

I shook my head. “He hasn’t hurt me. Not yet. And can you think of a better place? Nobody would

expect it.”

“Bad idea.” Shanks shook his head so hard his shoulders moved, too. “Jesus Christ. You’re nuts.

Completely bazonko.”

“All you have to do is act like I’m in here.” I sounded perfectly reasonable, even to myself. “And

for Christ’s sake, it’s not like I’m not down there every night anyway.”

“But . . . ” He stopped. “You know, it’s actually not such a bad idea. Completely crazy, but not such

a bad idea.”

“Exactly.” I stuffed my hands gingerly in my hoodie pockets. The wrapping on my wrist helped.

Once you get all bandaged up, the fight is really over. You can afford to relax a little bit.

Maybe. Until the next crisis comes along. And I was jumpy. Who wouldn’t be, after all this?

Shanks thought everything over. “But when Graves comes back . . .”

“He’s smart. He’ll figure out where I am.” He would, and he’d either be angry or . . . what? What

would he be like when he came back?

I ran up against the wall of everything I didn’t know about him. The Council had never mentioned

his file again, and I hadn’t even been tempted to ask. I figured he’d tell me what he wanted me to

know, and—

Shanks made a restless motion, like a dog shaking away water. “If he can figure it out, someone else

can too.”

Werwulfen function on consensus among themselves. Getting them to poop or get off the pot is

pretty impossible sometimes. Don’t get me wrong—when you’ve got teeth and claws and superhuman reflexes, it’s a good thing to want everyone to agree without violence. I’ll be the first to admit

that.

But sometimes it just drives me up the fricking wall. “Then they can all come down and we’ll have