Dead in the Family

do for his moon time. The monthly change actually runs for three nights—three nights when all the two-natured, if they can, take to the woods (or the streets) in their animal form. Most of the twoeys—those born with their condition—can change at other times, but the moon time . . . that’s special to all of them, including those who’d come to their extra nature by being bitten. There’s a drug you can take, I hear, that can suppress your change; Weres in the military, among others, have to use it. But they all hate to do that, and I understand they’re really no fun to be around on those nights.
    Fortunately for me, the next day was one of my days off that week. If I’d had to come home from the bar late at night, the short distance from the car into the house might have been a little nerve-racking with the wolves on the loose. I’m not sure how much of their human consciousness remains when the Weres change, and not all of Alcide’s pack members are personal friends of mine. Since I’d be at home, the prospect of hosting the Weres was more or less carefree. When company’s coming to hunt in your woods, there’s no preparation to be done. You don’t have to cook or clean house.
    However, having outside company was good motivation to complete some yard chores. Since it was another beautiful day, I put on one of my bikinis, pulled on sneakers and gloves, and set to work. Sticks and leaves and pinecones all went in the burn barrel, along with some hedge clippings. I made sure all the yard tools were put away in the shed, which I locked. I wound up the hose I’d used to water the potted plants I’d arranged around the back steps. I checked the clamp on the lid on the big garbage can. I’d bought the can specifically to keep the raccoons out of the trash, but a wolf might get interested, too.
    I passed a pleasant afternoon, puttering around in the sun, singing off-key whenever the spirit moved me.
    Right at dusk, the cars started arriving. I went to the window. I noticed the Weres had been considerate enough to carpool; there were several people in each vehicle. Even so, my driveway would be blocked until morning. Lucky I planned to stay at home, I thought. I knew some of the pack members, and I recognized a few of the others by sight. Hamilton Bond, who’d grown up with Alcide, pulled up and sat in his truck, talking on his cell phone. My eyes were drawn to a skinny, vivid young woman who favored flashy fashions, the kind I thought of as MTV clothes. I’d first noticed her in the Hair of the Dog bar in Shreveport, and she’d been assigned the task of executing injured enemies after Alcide’s pack had won the Were war; I thought her name was Jannalynn. I also recognized two women who’d been members of the attacking pack; they’d surrendered at the end of the fight. Now they’d joined their former enemies. A young man had surrendered, too, but he could have been any one of a dozen moving restlessly around my yard.
    Finally, Alcide arrived in his familiar truck. There were two other people sitting in the cab.
    Alcide himself is tall and husky, as Weres tend to be. He’s an attractive man. He’s got black hair and green eyes, and of course, he’s very strong. Alcide is usually well mannered and considerate—but he has his tough side, for sure. I’d heard rumors through Sam and Jason that since he’d ascended to packleader, that tough side had been getting a workout. I noticed that Jannalynn made a special effort to be at the truck door when Alcide emerged.
    The woman who slid out after him was in her late twenties, and she had some good solid hips on her. She wore her brown hair slicked back into a little knob, and her camo tank top let me know she was muscular and fit. At the moment, Camo was looking around the front yard like she was the tax assessor. The man who got out the other door was a little older and a lot harder.
    Sometimes, even if you’re not telepathic, you can tell by looking at a man that he’s had a rough life. This man had. The way he moved told me he was on the alert for trouble. Interesting.
    I watched him, because he needed watching. He had shoulder-length dark brown hair that flared around his head in a cloud of cork-screws. I found myself eyeing it enviously. I’d always wished I could get my hair to do that.
    After I’d gotten over my hair envy, I noticed that his skin was the brown of mocha ice cream. Though he wasn’t as tall as Alcide, he had thick shoulders