I rubbed my forehead as Roland pulled up behind the pickup and shut off the engine. He reached across the console to lay a hand on my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just been a long night. Guess we should get this over with.”

Peter leaned forward. “It’s not that bad… depending on how you look at it. I mean you just faced a couple of vampires. Can’t be as bad as that, right?”

“Pete, you’re not helping,” Roland said sharply.

A shadow appeared in one of the windows and I knew they were waiting for us to come in. I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. Peter was right. I’d just survived a vampire attack. A pack of werewolves should be a piece of cake.

I followed Peter as he opened the front door and entered the house. The first person I saw in the archway to the living room was Maxwell. Tall and sinewy with a hardened face, graying reddish brown hair and beard, he watched us with a shuttered expression as we filed inside. As many years as I’d known Maxwell, I had never gotten used to his austere ways. Not that he had ever been mean to me. But he was the only person I’d ever met who could intimidate the heck out of me. Of course, knowing that he was the alpha of a werewolf pack put things in a bit more perspective. It took a tough person to fill that role.

Standing next to Maxwell was his younger brother Brendan. The two men were matched in height and had similar features but Brendan was stockier with receding hair and a rounder face that gave him a less severe appearance than his brother. The serious, contemplative look he gave us made me nervous and I almost turned and ran back out the door. I didn’t know if I could cope with another confrontation tonight.

Maxwell opened his mouth to speak but a woman’s voice cut him off. Roland’s mother, Judith, was tall and slender but still inches shorter than her son. They had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes, though at forty-five Judith’s hair was speckled with grey. I’d never met Roland’s father because he died when Roland was a baby but I always figured my friend had inherited his father’s size. He sure as hell didn’t get it from his mother.

“Not now, Max,” Judith said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Give the girl a few minutes.” She took my arm and led me to the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “Roland, go put the kettle on.”

I wasn’t used to having someone coddle and fuss over me, but it felt kind of nice to let Judith take charge. She bustled me up the stairs to the bathroom and told me to shower while she went to get me some fresh clothes.

After Judith closed the door behind her, I looked at myself in the mirror and gasped at the disheveled girl staring back with tangled hair, tearstained cheeks and a dirty ripped shirt that was spotted with dried blood. It was like looking at a stranger.

I tilted my head to the side to see the four small claw marks on the left side of my throat. My fingers went to my throat to touch the marks and a shudder passed through me as I remembered Eli’s hands on me. My stomach turned over suddenly and I retched violently in the toilet as hot tears streamed down my face.

I would have curled up in a ball right there on the floor if Judith hadn’t knocked softly on the door and roused me. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I called weakly. I flushed the toilet and grabbed some tissue to blow my nose. “I’m just getting in the shower.” I tore off my dirty clothes and left them in a pile on the floor then slipped under a blissfully hot stream of water. I stood there for a good five minutes letting the water cascade over me, soothing my aches and pains. It did little for the hurt inside me but that one would need some time. The water washed away a few more tears before I finally turned it off and stepped out.

A clean pair of jeans and a soft red sweater had been left on the vanity along with a steaming cup of tea that smelled like chamomile and peppermint. I sipped the tea gratefully while I dried myself and got dressed. Brendan’s daughter Lydia was away at college and I knew these must be some of her things because I had to roll up the legs and sleeves.

I toweled-dried my hair and combed out the tangles before I headed downstairs with the empty cup in my hand. At the bottom of the stairs, I heard Maxwell’s raised voice coming from the kitchen. “… can’t believe you took her to a club in Portland with everything going on,” he said harshly. “And how could you be so careless? Where was your training?”

“But you said yourself this week that they had moved on,” Roland protested.

“And we’ve been to the Attic loads of times. No one’s ever messed with us,” Peter chimed in. “We figured –”

“Of course no one messed with you!” Maxwell sounded even angrier if that was possible. “So you two idiots not only endangered Sara, you exposed us to a human.”

“But Dad she –”

“I won’t tell anyone about you.”

All conversation stopped when I walked into the kitchen. Judith sat at the table with Maxwell and Brendan and Roland leaned against the refrigerator. Peter stood by the back door looking liked he wanted a quick escape from his father’s wrath. I walked over to the sink, rinsed out the cup and laid it in the dish rack. Then I steeled myself and turned to face the room, aware that every pair of eyes in the room was watching me.

Judith pushed out the chair next to her. “Sara, why don’t you sit and we’ll talk. You must be pretty confused right now.”

“I’d rather stand if that’s okay.” I was amazed at how steady my voice sounded.