I had never felt so uncomfortable in the forest, yet here I was, standing underneath the midnight-black tree limbs, wishing for it to be day again. The forest was supposed to be a home for me, and usually—despite the fact I was missing that vital part of being a werewolf—it was. But now, all I wanted was to run away.

    I couldn't abandon my post, however. As long as the moon was up and a shooter was out here somewhere, I had to be nearby. If any other bullets flew, I was going to be ready, even if one landed in my chest because of it.

    Cal's and my shoes scuffed the leaves underneath us as we walked, the vibrant fall colors all washed in blue and gray, the woods hush save for the cooing owls, the chirping crickets. I listened, tuned into everything around me, but heard nothing suspicious. I sniffed, tried to hone in on any unfamiliar scent, but there was nothing I didn't recognize. Oddly enough...the forest seemed to be clear.

    "This just doesn't make sense," I said, stopping in place.

    Cal took a few more steps before she noticed I'd halted; she glanced back at me, the moonlight turning her ebony eyes to bright jewels. "What doesn't?"

    "There's nothing," I told her. "No odd noises, no weird scents. Everything's...normal. Whoever shot Alfie is long gone."

    "So...what? They came just to shoot him, and left?"

    I shook my head. "I don't know how to make sense of it. This person obviously knows about werewolves, with the silver bullet and all, but why only shoot one of them?"

    "Theo," Cal said, her tone wavering as she stepped back, grabbing both my hands in hers. Her gaze was stern, her tone deadly serious. Even before she spoke, I began to squirm in discomfort. "You can't tell me you're not thinking the same thing that I am."

    I swallowed, closing my eyes. "Cal..."

    "Don't act stupid. I mean, he tried to shoot you just yesterday. What makes you think he'd be averse to shooting your brother?"

    I couldn't look at her. It was peaceful behind my eyelids, nothing but the dark, no one's gaze compelling me to speak my mind, no one's expression visualizing the fear I was trying not to feel. "I don't want to think about him," I admitted. "Thinking about him...just makes my head hurt. Just makes me wish everything weren't so complicated."

    "Sure, Theo, but if he's after you, after your family—"

    I gave a brisk laugh. "You sound like Richie."

    "Yeah, well, he might be an insane, angry old person, but he's right about some stuff," Cal told me. My eyes opened, and we stared at each other, neither of us saying anything for a moment. Somehow, though, the silence was louder than any words we could have spoken.

    "They—your family, I mean—may not like me," Cal said then. "But if you love them, then I do, too. So I'm not going to watch them get hurt."

    "You're jumping to conclusions," I countered. "We don't know anything yet—"

    "Then why don't you call Reese? Ask him where his dad is, Theo."

    I let out a long sigh, folding my arms across my chest. "That's just going to scare him. Reese has been scared enough lately."

    Cal seized forward, gripping my jacket sleeve in her fist and not letting go. My eyes widened a little, but I didn't fight her, let her grasp onto me and force my gaze to hers. I couldn't tell if she was angry with me, only that she was less than satisfied. I wondered when she started caring so much. "Call him, Theo. I'm not leaving this forest until you do."

    I opened my mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Reaching into my pants pocket, I pulled out my cellphone, the bright light of its screen searing my eyes. I had to squint, but I found Reese's number and dialed it.

    I had this awful feeling that Cal was right, because Cal was right about almost everything. But I called anyway, my heart pounding as I did.

    He picked up around the third ring, and when he spoke, his voice sounded muffled, as if there was food in his mouth. "Ah, Theo? Why aren't you—oh, right."

    I cast a scowl towards the full moon above my head, which, yes, I still wanted to kick in the face. "Well, you don't have to sound so disappointed."

    "You're the one that said your existence was pathetic," Reese commented, the sound of his chewing assaulting my ears for a moment, "not me. What's up?"

    Considering the severity of his message to me at school yesterday, his tone was oddly casual, as if we were any other people with any other families exchanging just any other conversation. Neither of our lives, though, observing Reese's relationship with his dad, were ordinary. I asked, "What are you doing right now?"

    "Right now? I'm...eating a sandwich?"

    "Why'd you say it like that?"

    "Like what?"

    "Like it's a question."

    "I don't know," Reese replied. "Because I was trying to think of something cooler to say than eating a sandwich. Seriously, Theo. Is something wrong?"

    I sighed. The phone still to my ear, I noticed Cal was watching me, her hands planted on the curved lines of her hips, one eyebrow lifted upwards. I was beginning to think the look she was giving me now was more menacing than any I'd seen with fangs.

    "Is your dad home?"

    There was a long silence from Reese's end, then a heavy exhale. "Yeah, he has been all night," he answered, and I didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. This was good, because Lee wasn't going after my family, but bad, because someone else was. "I know why you're asking. Your family...they're...wolves right now?"

    "Yeah."

    "Sick."

    "What?"

    "I'm just saying. As much as it's scary, it's cool," Reese clarified, and this response was so beyond my comprehension that I didn't even bother to ask. Reese went on without my needing to, thankfully. "Anyway. So I know why you're worried."

    "Reese—"

    "But you don't have to worry. I'm not going to let him go after you, or anyone near you."

    I blinked, rubbing my eyes. Cal was still watching me, her expression a bit less intense, to my relief. "Yesterday, you said..."

    "I know what I said," Reese countered. "I know what I said—but even if we don't talk to each other, that's not going to change anything. My only chance, your only chance, is if I stop him before he starts."

    I thought back to last night, when I'd sat in Lee's passenger seat. The words PACT AGENCY flashed before my eyes, and it confused me, how Reese could fight against someone he knew so little about. He didn't know me that well, and in the end, he didn't know his father that well. Yet, he firmly stood his ground, unwavering and clear. I said, "So you know, then. That your father's not the person he tells you he is."

    Reese's tone had sobered. "I think I've known that for a while. I just didn't face it until now."

    I leaned my shoulder against a tree, closing my eyes, wishing again for sunlight, for clarity, for security. "What are you going to do?"

    "I haven't decided that yet," said Reese. "I don't think it's best to confront him; I know that much. The rest I'll have to figure out. Trust me on this."

    "Alright," I agreed, "but don't let me down."

    "Aye, aye, captain." He hung up.

    I turned my phone off, replacing it in my pocket. I could still feel my heart thudding away within my chest, even more questions swarming my brain. A part of me wanted to keep Reese out of this; I was afraid his father would hurt him if he tried to defend me. The other part of me knew that, if this was as bad as I thought, I was going to need all the help I could get.

    And, of course, there was that other question I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to:

    If Lee hadn't shot my brother, then who had?

    "Lee's not the one who did it," I told Cal.

    "I know," she said, then tapped her ear when I looked up. "My hearing may not be as good as a wolf's, but it's good enough."

    I sighed. "Remember when I said this was complicated? I take that back. This is impossible."

    "And now the ginger's involved," Cal put in. "Are you sure you want that?"

    I twisted my mouth a bit, itching at the inside of my wrist, just for something kinetic to do. I traced the little white lines my nails left behind on the skin. "He's valuable, whether I like it or not, considering he's close to this Lee guy. Very close. That's thing about valuables, though. They're in the most danger."

    Cal made a grunt of approval, and for a second I stayed there, my shoulder against the tree, my head down. I wished for the time when my whole life wasn't some convoluted, violent puzzle, in which several of the pieces were missing. Maybe I had never been normal, but at least I'd been safe.

    "I'm going to bed," I muttered, and when Cal began to protest, I shushed her. "I told you. Whoever was here is gone now, and I need to sleep. I'd advise you too, as well."

    "Theo."

    "What?"

    "I'm a vampire," she reminded me. "We're pretty much nocturnal."

    I blinked at her, and she blinked at me, and then I just groaned and started marching for the house.

    "See you in the morning, in that case."

    Despite the night's events, I was able to grasp more than a couple of hours of deep sleep, which I badly needed. It was the best kind of sleep, even, a dreamless void of time that, when your eyes blinked open, you realized you didn't even know the length of. My morning would have even been serene, if Cal hadn't shook me awake so violently that my brain probably slammed against my skull.

    My eyes opened, and with a sleepy moan, I sat up, rubbing any stray hairs down and swiping away drool. I squinted at the sunlight filtering in through the window, which I couldn't help but notice Cal was saying very far away from.

    She sat on the edge of my bed, casting the little golden stream a wary look every few seconds. When she noticed I'd woken up, the uncomfortable expression on her face deepened.

    "Cal?" I murmured, still groggy from my slumber. "You didn't have to give me a seizure. I'm up, see?"

    I expected her to give at least a small smile, but she didn't. Her frown stayed there.

    I was wide awake real soon. "What is it? I was right—the shooter was really gone, right? My family's alive—"

    "Well, we know most of them are," Cal said with a sigh.

    I did not like that answer. I did not like that answer at all. "Cal," I began, my tone warning, "what is that supposed to mean?"

Her fingers tapped at my comforter; I felt her light touch through the blankets. "Alfie and your parents are downstairs, Theo," she said. "But your sister's missing."