Frost Burned

was not in the mood for it.
    Adam moved one of the two love seats around so it was in front of the TV before sitting on it—at the head of his impromptu council. He didn’t bother with his usual charade of human-only strength, having lifted the heavy piece of furniture and carried it by himself with obvious ease. I sat down next to Adam and worried over Armstrong’s pale face. We didn’t need more enemies.
    Warren gave Adam a cautious look and settled in the other love seat, pulling Kyle down beside him. Tad had been planning to go out to the swimming pool, too, but Adam had asked him to come after Armstrong protested Tony and Sylvia. At Adam’s direction, Tad sat rather uncomfortably on the couch with Tony and Sylvia. There were no more seats in the room.
    Ben—human again and wearing a set of Kyle’s sweats that said, “Taste
This
Rainbow”—glanced around and sat on the ground at Adam’s feet without a quibble or change of expression. That left Armstrong standing alone.
    The lack of seats was on purpose, I thought, glancing at Adam’s face. He was not happy with Cantrip, and poor Agent Armstrong was the only representative present.
    Asil came in late. He glanced at Ben and at Agent Armstrong, who was contemplating the reason for his seatless state. Asil raised an eyebrow at Adam—though he didn’t really look him in the eye—and headed back downstairs. He brought two of the dining room chairs and pointedly set them on either side of Warren’s love seat. He took the side that left him as far from Adam as he could get without leaving the room and, at his gesture, Armstrong took the remaining empty chair.
    “You all here know everything Mercy told the police, right?” Adam said as soon as everyone was seated. “So let me begin with last night.”
    For all that we’d talked about the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Adam’s story was edited a little. He was quite clear on the point that he killed the Cantrip agents responsible himself—while I and all the werewolves in the room knew he lied. He wasn’t the only one who had killed, but he was the one responsible. I understood that just fine.
    “I considered holding them for justice,” Adam told us, told me, really. “But they had a kill list that included all of the humans associated with my people—children not excepted.” He looked at Sylvia. “Gabriel was on that list. You were not wrong to tell him that his association with us put him in danger.”
    “Maybe not,” she said, “but I was wrong to expect that to matter to him.” She looked at me, and her lips quirked up. “A friend in danger is not someone who should be deserted. Safety is not always the right path.”
    “They were willing to kill children?” Armstrong asked, not as if he were questioning Adam but as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
    “Like Joshua at Jericho,” said Adam. I put my hand on his leg and squeezed it. “They felt that they needed to dig us out plant, root, and seed so that our corruption was truly destroyed. You’ll have to accept my word for it because the whiteboard went up with the winery where we were held.”
    He paused. “There were three fresh graves in the vineyard that held some of their own people. Maybe they objected—maybe they just got in the way. We didn’t kill them, we didn’t kill anyone until our escape. From the state of the bodies, the Cantrip agents in the graves died a couple of days before we were taken.”
    “How
did
they get you all?” asked Asil.
    “We thought they were government agents, so we did not initially respond with lethal force.” Adam breathed deeply, but it must not have helped because he got to his feet and began to pace. “That is a mistake, Agent Armstrong, that we will never make again. You might pass the word along.” For a moment, his menace was such that no one, not even me, dared take a deep breath. He shook his shoulders loose and spoke more moderately. “At any rate, we did not kill or harm anyone when we were taken. So two dead women and the dead man are the responsibility of either the Cantrip agents or the mercenaries they hired.”
    “If you please, Mr. Hauptman,” said Armstrong. “
Renegade
Cantrip agents. My agency was not responsible for their actions, and both officially and unofficially, we find this business appalling.”
    “I just bet you do.” Warren’s voice was heavy with rage. Warren was usually the voice of sanity in the pack.
    “Warren,” said