“Stop that.” I took a deep breath. The growl had stopped. I just bonked a werwulf on the noggin.

Jeez. “You could bring me a blanket or something. This floor’s cold.”

A beat of silence, then footsteps. Someone padding off to get me a nice little blankie. It wasn’t Benjamin because he spoke again. “Very well. But we’re staying here, Dru. Just in case.”

Like I don’t know that. I leave my room for any reason, all of you show up. “You should go back to

sleep. Or whatever you were doing.”

“We’re your Guard. This is what we’re doing.” Patiently, as if talking to an idiot. Benjamin was almost as good at that tone as Dylan had been.

My heart gave another funny little hurt squeeze. It’s been doing that a lot lately, except when I’m

busy running for my life. But the pain went away when I swallowed, blinked, and focused on the

problem in front of me.

“Jailers, more like.” Graves didn’t bother to say it softly. He kept leaning through the door, and the

cigarette smoke he exhaled smelled like anger. “Leave her alone.”

Ash growled again. I dug my fingers in, and the rumbling petered out once more. The marks on my

right wrist twinged again, but not painfully. “Stop it, Graves. Jeez. All of you, just quit it.”

It was looking to be another long wait for dawn.

Jealousy

CHAPTER TWO

As soon as the sun came up, Ash lifted his head from my lap. He flowed away, curled up under the

metal shelf, and promptly went to sleep instead of just lying there with his eyes open and nervousness running through him.

My legs were stiff and numb. Graves had smoked his way through half a pack, field-stripping each

butt under his boot. The plaid blanket they’d handed in through the door hadn’t helped me much. I

was so cold my teeth threatened to chatter, but I crawled over and spent a minute or two tucking the

Broken werwulf in. He’d rip the blanket to shreds when dusk hit, but it couldn’t hurt.

At least, I was hoping it couldn’t hurt.

The silvery streak up the side of his head had gotten longer, pale wiry hairs a different texture than

the rest of his fur. The messed-up part of his jaw made me wince every time I looked at it. Wulfen

are allergic to silver in a big way; the wound was raw but not seeping anymore. It was healing slowly, I guess—and when it did heal over, what would happen? There was still silver lodged in there.

I didn’t know nearly enough. Story of my life, I guess. When I was with Dad it hadn’t seemed to

matter—he was the one who knew what we were dealing with and told me what to do. But since