Since neither shifter seems very interested in talking, I sit with only my thoughts for company.


    Even Selene is silent in my head, though she rests her chin on my leg, her eyes deceptively closed.


    She''s not asleep, but still dealing with whatever demons are inside of her right now.


    Both guards tense as Selene''s ears flick around.


    Someone''s coming, she says, lifting her head to stare at the door. When both guards relax after that distracted look from them linking with someone, she does too, despite sniffing at the air.


    Jericho, she says, as the door opens and his grizzled head pokes into the room.


    Jericho glances around, looking at both guards with clear contempt, before nodding to me. "Girl," he says gruffly.


    My lips twitch into a faint smile, an unexpected warmth blooming in my chest at his informal address. At least one thing hasn''t changed. He still treats me the same, even after everything that''s happened.


    "Wait outside," Jericho orders the two ill-at-ease shifters, jerking his head toward the door. They hesitate for a moment, exchanging an uncertain look, but a single raised eyebrow from Jericho has them scurrying out of the room.


    The door closes with a soft click, and Jericho turns his attention back to me. "How''re you doing? Feeling okay?"@@@@


    I open my mouth, ready to assure him that I''m fine, but the words lodge in my throat. Am I okay? After the riot, Todd''s mother, the vampire attack, and all the little truths Vanessa has managed to open my eyes to... I don''t think I am.


    But complaining about it doesn''t seem right, either.


    Jericho seems to sense my inner turmoil. He sighs, running a hand over his stubbled jaw. "Listen, girl, all young pups make mistakes. It''s part of growing up."


    "Young pup?" The term catches me off guard. I haven''t been called that since I was a child.


    Maybe a few times, but I don''t really remember them.


    A wry smile tugs at the corner of Jericho''s mouth. "You''re still young, a baby in my eyes. I''ve been around long enough to see countless pups stumble and fall. Done it myself, in fact."


    "Yourself?" It''s hard to imagine him, a grizzled old man of little praise and a lot of torture, making mistakes as a child.


    It''s hard to imagine he even had a childhood.


    The doubt on my face must be crystal clear, because he barks out a laugh. "Even vampires have their own politics. They''re deeper and murkier than you ever want to be knee-deep in, but there is no loyalty in their blood. They don''t have the sense of pack that we do. It''s all power and control in their cities."


    "How much do you know about vampires?" The question slips out before I can stop myself. Curiosity has me over-eager.


    Jericho''s weathered face splits into a grin. "More than these young pups, that''s for damn sure. They''ve grown up in a time of peace, never had to fight for their lives against those bloodsuckers." He leans back, the chair creaking under his weight. "Back in my day, we had a few scuffles. Nothing major, but enough to keep us on our toes."


    "You fought vampires?"


    "Not exactly fought. More like... disagreements that got a little physical. They sometimes came to the city, you see. Before all the laws came into effect." His eyes glaze over, lost in memories. "I had a friend once, a vampire.


    He told me stories about the Unregistered cities. They''re not nearly as isolated as most wolves think."


    "What do you mean?"


    Jericho shrugs, the moment of nostalgia passing. "Ah, it doesn''t matter. No one wants to listen to the ramblings of an old man anyway."


    "That''s not true," I protest. "I''m sure Lucas and Kellan would want to hear what you have to say. They respect you."


    Jericho slaps his knee, a bark of laughter escaping him. "I like you, girl. You''ve got spirit. But you''ve learned very little during your time in this pack."


    More proof that I''ve been so focused on my own problems, to the detriment of anything around me. I squirm beneath his regard. "I''m sorry."


    He waves a hand. "Girl, it''s no secret that my son avoids me. He''d rather catch the plague."


    "Oh, I''m sure its not—"


    "It''s that bad," he cuts me off, all traces of mirth disappearing from his face. "But don''t worry yourself over it. A runt like you has no business dealing with that sort of thing."


    This is a pack dynamic I should have known, considering how much time I''ve spent with both of them.


    I rub my eyebrows with a sigh. "I''ve been selfish."


    Jericho''s expression softens for a second. It''s so fast that I''m not sure if it was even real.


    He''s back to his grunting, cantankerous way within moments. "Selfish? I suppose. But you''re young. You have a lifetime of mistakes coming your way. You''ll probably kill a few more people.


    What are you going to do about that?"