With his bleary eyes and slurred speech, Lenny’s foster father was undeniably human. A sorry excuse, but human nonetheless. No way could he be the lycan responsible for infecting Lenny. Claire had hoped, at the very least, that he might have some information, some clue to send them in the right direction. The two friends of Lenny’s they had visited earlier that morning—boys she had often seen him talking to at school—had been of no help either.

But the foster father knew even less of Lenny’s habits than his friends had.

“Where’s your wife?” Gideon demanded, shaking him by the shirtfront when it looked like the guy might pass out.

“She took off with some guy. Weeks ago.”

Gideon let go of his shirt. The man slumped back into the couch, his bloodshot eyes drifting to Claire. The Price Is Right blared loudly behind them from the tiny television. His head swayed side to side as he asked, “You that teacher Lenny always talked about? Miss Whatsit?”

“Miss Morgan, yes.”

“Coulda jammed my fist in that kid’s mouth for all his yapping about you.” He took a swig from a can of beer. Several other crushed cans littered the chipped and stained coffee table. “Miss Morgan this, Miss Morgan that. Had a real hard-on for you. Coulda puked the number of times that kid tossed your name out. Stupid kid,” he mumbled, shaking his head in disgust as he fished the remote control from under a couch cushion.

“Come on, Claire.” Gideon grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

But she couldn’t move. His slurred words rooted her to the floor.

“Len thought you were gonna save ’im.” Throwing his arms wide, his voice cracked with harsh laughter. “Take ’im away from all this and turn ’im into a college boy. Well, how’s he doing now, teacher lady?”

Claire took a deep, shuddering breath, willing her feet to move, to walk out the door.

“Let’s go. Don’t listen to this jackass.” Gideon tugged on her hand, finally managing to pull her out the door. It slammed behind them, stinging her ears.

Claire barely registered walking, much less climbing into the Jeep. She gazed blindly through the windshield, gnawing her thumbnail to the quick before she realized the Jeep sat parked, motor silent and still.

Glancing at Gideon, she asked, “Why aren’t we moving?”

Gideon gestured to the apartment building with a flick of his wrist. “Don’t let that guy get to you.” A flash of light lit up the sky followed by a rumble of thunder.

She shrugged one shoulder and faced the front again, the leather seat creaking as she settled her weight and leaned her head against the headrest. “He’s right. I didn’t help Lenny.”