“Don’t crowd him.” Jesse opened the small glass cooler behind her and pulled out the pitcher of lemonade she’d made that morning. She took out four plastic tumblers from her personal cupboard, put them on the counter, and poured the lemonade just as the door opened and Tobias walked in with the new leader of the terra indigene who kept watch over Prairie Gold and the handful of human-owned ranches whose fences bordered the rest of the land, which was claimed by the Others.

“Figured you could use something to drink,” Jesse said, giving the males a smile. “You’ve been out there awhile.” She handed glasses to Tobias and Joe, then to Shelley, before she picked up the last one.

“My mother makes great lemonade,” Tobias said, taking a couple of long swallows.

Joe sniffed the liquid in the glass before taking a cautious sip. Looking surprised, he took another sip. “This is lemonade?”

Jesse nodded, watching the Wolf.

“I had something called lemonade once. It tasted like this but not like this.” Joe sipped again. “This lemonade is better.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yes.” Joe drained his glass and carefully set it on the counter.

“Would you like more?” Jesse asked.

“No. Thank you.”

Doesn’t trust us. Not sure how to deal with us. But knowledgeable about human ways, at least to some degree.

“I need to use a telephone,” Joe said, eyeing the phone that sat on the end of the counter near the cash register. “To call the Lakeside Courtyard. In the Northeast.”

“All right.” Jesse tried not to wince at the cost of a long-distance call. “Could we put the phone on speaker so we can all hear?”

Joe met her eyes, and she could feel the weight of the Wolf’s stare as he considered her request. She wasn’t being nosy—not too much, anyway. She just had a feeling that this conversation would change a lot of things in Prairie Gold, for good or ill, and she wanted to know what was said.

“All right,” Joe said. “It is your phone, so that is fair.”

Tobias gave her a “Mother” warning look, which she ignored as she turned the phone to make it easier for Joe to dial.

“It’s still pretty early in the Northeast,” Tobias said.

Jesse looked at the little clock on the wall behind her counter. “It’s within the start of business hours.”

Joe just shrugged and carefully pushed the numbers on the phone.

It rang. And rang. And...

“Howling Good Reads.”

A voice with a slight accent. A voice that, while sounding polite and businesslike, made Jesse shiver—and made fur sprout on the back of Joe Wolfgard’s hands.

“Vladimir?” Joe said. “This is Joe Wolfgard.”

“Joe.” The voice warmed enough that Joe leaned toward the phone.

“I need to speak to Simon.”