“Yes, ma’am,” Talley and Charlie both intoned. Since I couldn’t force the words past my throat, I merely nodded.

“You are all going to be great leaders some day, but today isn’t that day. Now, apologize to Toby.” She said it in the same way every single mother on earth says it to her child after they’ve done something wrong, but she didn’t mean it the same way.

It took a great deal of convincing on my brain’s part to get my legs to move me in front of the chair where Toby sat. Charlie and I sunk to our knees at the same time and offered our throats in submission. The last time I had to do this, Toby bit me at the place where my neck meets my shoulder. Hard. I carried a bruise there for two weeks. Everyone, including my girlfriend at the time, assumed some girl did it in a fit of passion. It was a humiliation that just kept on giving. This time, however, Toby stayed in his seat. He sounded tired when he told us to go ahead and get up off the floor.

“And now you, Talley.”

Talley looked up at her mother with horrified eyes. “But I didn’t argue with Toby, Mama. I agreed with him.”

Mrs. Matthews’s lips hardened into a sharp line. “You wasted his time with this stupid vision nonsense. Now, apologize and promise it’ll never happen again.”

A new surge of anger ripped through me as Talley pulled herself off the couch and shuffled over to Toby. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and her bottom lip quivered. I never wanted to punch anyone as much as I wanted to punch Mrs. Matthews at that moment, which was saying an awful lot since I had already successfully hit a couple of people that day. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to control myself at the sight of Talley yielding her neck. Thankfully, Toby didn’t let it go that far.

“No, stop,” he said when she started to lower herself onto the floor. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Tal. You did the right thing calling me.” He reached up, grabbed one of her hands, and gave it a squeeze. Her cheeks immediately turned red. “I don’t know if you really had a vision or not, but I do think your powers are stronger than you know. Maybe you picked up on something from Alex without realizing, or maybe you encountered Liam earlier in the summer before your powers fully manifested and got something off of him then. Whatever the situation, I feel confident you didn’t waste my time. And if Liam wasn’t Alpha Pack, I would make sure they were as far away from here as possible. But, as is it is, I can’t do that. I promise you, though, I’ll keep an eye on the situation and make certain everyone under my protection stays safe.” He squeezed her hand again. “Believe me?”

A fat tear dripped from her eyelashes. “Of course, Pack Leader.”

“And you two. Do you believe me?”

Charlie squeezed the back of his neck, looked up at the ceiling, and let out a loud breath of air. I’m pretty sure if Mrs. Matthews hadn’t been standing there that breath of air would have taken the shape of a four letter word. “Sure. I believe you’ll try.”

It was obviously not the vote of confidence Toby was seeking, but he took it. “Jase?”

My eyes darted over to Charlie, and the two of us immediately came to an agreement. “I believe they won’t touch anyone under your protection,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t let them.

Now that you know the rest of the story,

remember how it all began...

Chapter 1

John Davis smells like Play-Doh. When we were in elementary school, it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, we were kids. Play-Doh was pretty high on the awesome scale. But there comes a time when a guy should stop smelling like crafting supplies and develop a more manly scent, like campfire or gym floor.

I had been roaming up and down the crowded street trying to ditch John and his noxious odor for over an hour, but he was too oblivious for it to work. He followed me to the trashcan, stood in line with me when I ordered a second corndog, and even waited outside the girl’s bathroom.

“I still can’t believe our senior year is finally here, you know? I feel like we’ve been waiting for this one year our whole lives.” He paused to lift up his NASCAR hat, running his fingers through his hair. My attention drifted as he blathered on about post-graduation plans. I briefly considered stabbing him into silence with the pointy end of my corndog stick, but decided there were too many witnesses. Granted, most everyone was too busy oooh-ing and ahhh-ing as Jase Donovan regaled them with his I beat the NCAA’s top Point Guard in a one-on-one story to notice my existence, but I figured the screaming and blood might draw some attention.

I was trying desperately hard to not be jealous that Jase was entertaining the masses, leaving me at the mercy of the only other social outcast within a five mile vicinity. I knew this would happen the moment he suggested heading out to The Strip, a mile long stretch of road that served as Western Kentucky’s go-to summer spot. The shops and tourist attractions of The Strip were overrun with vacationing families and tanned locals. It was the second group that mobbed Jase the moment we got out of our car. My brother had taken his rightful place as the center of attention while I was relegated to the Loser’s Table with John Davis, who’s inability to grasp the fact we hadn’t been friends at any time during the past twelve years was truly spectacular.

I was coping by playing a round of Anywhere But Here, imaging myself trekking through Europe with nothing but a backpack and limit-free credit card, when John nudged me back to reality with his elbow. “Do you know them?” he asked, nodding towards two guys sitting on a bench in front of Lynda’s Beauty Parlor and Tanning Emporium. They were obviously brothers, both possessing the same chestnut colored hair and aristocratic bone structure. The younger one was sprawled out, a book propped against one knee. I tilted my head, attempting to read the title, but he was too far away to make out the words. I was half-tempted to just go over and ask. The slight smile playing on his lips as he scanned the pages made me think he wouldn’t mind the interruption.

In contrast, the older brother looked as though he might be inclined to eat children on occasion. It wasn’t just his size; there something about the way he sat, as if he was waiting to pounce on the first person who wandered too close. He scowled at the world in general, and me in particular.

They say a person can get used to anything. Maybe one day I’ll get used to being stared at, but I doubt it. According to my mother, people stare because they’re intrigued by my “unique beauty.” Of course, she’s a mother. She has to say stuff like that.