Lover Beware

were scattered all over—how many that might be, she didn’t find out. Most Nokolai came, when they could, to the gatherings held on the winter and summer solstices. And many of those who didn’t live here themselves sent their children to stay for part of the summer…and their adolescent boys for much longer. To learn to control the beast.
    Lily saw a lot of children that day. The only wolf she saw was the one that had been sitting with the teenage girl when she and Rule first arrived.
    She visited the daycare center, which was attached to the clubhouse. The center was run by an older woman in a wheelchair named Oralie Fortier, and staffed by volunteers—which meant pretty much every adult at Clanhome. These people were nuts about kids. While Lily was there Ms. Fortier had to settle an argument about whose turn it was to work in the baby room—three people wanted to, and there were only two babies there at the time.
    Two of the three insisting it was their turn with the babies were men.
    The clubhouse had pool tables, a weight room, a smaller room where dance and gymnastics were taught, a kitchen, and a library. It was the only place on the grounds with television. When they left it, heading for the school across a lightly wooded section, Lily quit fighting herself and tucked her hand into Rule’s.
    He gave her a smile of such startling sweetness that her heart turned over. A second later, the panic hit.
    She was in love with him.
    No. No, this wasn’t love, it was some kind of physical obsession created by incredible sex. Or magic. Whatever it was, though, it couldn’t be love. She’d known him less than a week. He wasn’t human, for God’s sake. Besides, she’d been in love before, and this—this whatever she felt was different.
    Deeper. Stronger.
    Lily was thoroughly shaken when they reached the school, a U-shaped building with a courtyard in the center. There Rule excused himself, saying he needed to talk to his uncle. He dropped a kiss on her lips and left her with his first grade teacher.
    Arthur Madoc was another surprise—a tall, narrow man with a gentle smile and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He’d taught first grade for forty-seven years. The school itself reminded her of country schoolhouses she’d read about, with kindergarten in one room, grades one and two in another, and third and fourth graders sharing the third room. After fourth grade, Mr. Madoc told her, the children had to go into town.
    Classes in various subjects were offered during the summer. Today twelve kids aged six to nine were there for art lessons. The wilderness studies group, she was told, had already left the building.
    Lily joined the budding artists, who were experimenting with print-making. She dipped leaves, twigs, and sponges in paint and dabbed them on paper. She helped other artists dip things and admired the results. And she asked questions.
    After her shock had worn off, she’d realized she had more than one investigation to make.
    One of the little girls wanted to be an airline pilot like her mother when she grew up. One wanted to be a doctor. Another thought she’d do something with computers, while a third couldn’t decide between building houses like her uncle or being a movie star.
    More of Lily’s preconceptions toppled quietly. “What about babies?” she asked casually, daubing her sponge in canary yellow paint. “Or getting married? Do you think about doing that, too?”
    “That shade of yellow won’t work with purple,” the budding actress said critically. More patiently, the would-be physician told her, “Not everyone gets to be a mommy, so you can’t plan on having babies. Unless you want to marry out,” she added, and her expression made it clear she considered that a poor choice.
    “Not always,” the computer enthusiast said with the air of correcting a small logic error. “Sophie Duquesne mated with a man from Rachmanov Clan.”
    The future pilot rolled her eyes. “Like that’s going to happen. We were talking about plans. You can’t plan to mate. That’s like planning to win the lottery. My dad says—”
    “Time to finish up,” Mr. Madoc said pleasantly. “It’s past noon.”
    The builder’s niece had been right about the yellow. It didn’t look good with the purple.
    When Nettie came to get her, Lily wasn’t surprised to learn that Rule’s uncle, not his aunt, had cooked lunch. She was surprised, though, when those she sat down to lunch with included Rule’s