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Author: Carrie Vaughn

Category: Fantasy

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I sat at my desk, because I didn’t have anywhere else to sit, but I didn’t turn on the computer. I rubbed my face, hugged my head, and leaned on the table.

I didn’t think I could take it anymore. I’d reached my limit. If ever there was a time when turning wolf and running away sounded like a good idea, this was it.

“Norville?”

Startled, I straightened, looked. Cormac wasn’t asleep after all. He’d propped himself on one elbow.

“Thank you,” he said.

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I stared back, meeting his gaze. I saw exhaustion there. Hopelessness. I’d told him Ben would be okay, but I wondered if he’d believed it.

“You’re welcome.” What else could I say?

He rolled over, putting his back to me, and went to sleep.

chapter 5

I turned on the computer and wrote. Typing whatever came into my head, I wrote about the random shocks of life, the events that brought friends to your doorstep begging for help, even when you felt that your own life had tumbled irrevocably out of control. You did what you had to do, somehow. You kept racing ahead and hoped for the best. I wrote about being at the end of my rope and made a list of the reasons I had to stay human. Chocolate, as always, was near the top of the list. I was in the kitchen eating chocolate chip cookies when Cormac woke up, after dark.

I was looking out the kitchen window, to where Deputy Ted’s patrol car was parked at the end of the road, hidden in the trees. I spotted him when he turned on his dome light to eat a sandwich.

Cormac sat up, rubbed his face, then stretched, twisting his back, pulling his arms up. Something cracked. “What’re you looking at?”

“Take a look,” I said. “You’ll like this.”

He came to the kitchen area, and I moved aside to give him room to look out the window. The deputy still had his light on, making his car a glowing beacon among the trees.

Cormac made a derisive grunt. “They’re not going to catch anyone if that’s how they run a stakeout.”

With the cop sitting there, nobody would come within a mile of my place to lay any sort of curse. Nobody smart, anyway. “At least I won’t have rabbit guts all over my porch in the morning.”

“You’re a werewolf, I thought you’d like that sort of thing. Fresh meat, delivered right to your door. Maybe it’s a secret admirer.”

“I like picking out my own dead meat, thanks.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He crossed his arms, leaned on the counter, and looked at me. I blinked back, trying to think of a clever response. Finally, I offered him the bag I was holding. “Cookie?”

He shook his head at it. “How’s Ben?”

“Asleep. How are you?”

“Feeling stupid. I keep thinking of everything I should have done different.”

“That’s not like you. You’re a head down, guns blazing, full steam ahead kind of guy. Not one to dwell in the past.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

I shrugged, conceding the point. “So what’s the story? You know all about my dark past. I don’t know anything about yours.”

“You’re fishing,” he said and smirked.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Save it for your show.”

Ouch. If only I were doing the show. It occurred to me to consider how big a favor I would have to do for Cormac before I could talk him into coming on the show for an interview, if taking in him and Ben in their hour of need didn’t do it.

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