This is it. He's going to die, and I'll be free.
At the last second, he moved, and I was suddenly pinned up against the wall, the silver dagger now in his hand. He pressed the blade to my throat, a sadistic grin creeping across his face.
"Oh, Reese...
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As the full moon disappeared behind a bank of clouds, it occurred to me that nearly two months had passed since I killed Nicholas Randon. Two months, and my plans to tear apart this pack from the inside still relied on my improvisation skills.
In other words, I had no plan yet.
Sure, I had some ideas. Based on what I learned from Laurie, there were a handful of pack members who weren't happy with Elijah in control of the city. Fewer still wanted Rebecca to be in command, even though werewolves had the somewhat out-of-date notion that women shouldn't - or can't - lead. Sexist dogs. Though I guess humans weren't any better.
Three of the anti-Elijah and pro-Rebecca werewolves stood in the general area around me. Simon was a few meters away with Evangeline, training, practicing control over his transitions. From what I've heard, when in a fight, it becomes even more difficult for a werewolf to control their Shifting since their every instinct is urging them to attack with their full strength. But it's not always ideal for them to become wolves, especially if they're fighting in close quarters. I wondered what would have happened if Keith, Luca, and Oliver had shifted when they found me at Starbucks two months ago.
Next to me, watching the practice carefully, was Rebecca herself, her hands balled into fists as she felt the force of the full moon press down on her. I glanced at her anxiously.
"Hey," I said, grabbing her attention. "Are you okay?"
Rebecca glanced down at her fists, slowly unclenching them as she inhaled deeply. "I'm fine now," she said. "But I need to get out of here before the sun sets." She glanced at the star, which looked as though it was carefully balancing on top of the skyscrapers as it inched toward the horizon.
I frowned. "Does the full moon not affect you during the day?" Weird.
She shrugged. "Yeah, for some reason it doesn't work like that. I'm not exactly sure why, since it doesn't appear to be any less full during the day than it is during the night. It might have something to do with witches and warlocks and the first werewolves, but I never paid much attention in history."
My interest amplified. "The first werewolves? Do you know how they were created?"
"What did I just say?" Rebecca's tone was impatient, but she grinned. "Why do you want to know? Do you think you can learn about our weaknesses by learning about our creation?"
I noted the way she said our, with careful precision, like she knew her lycanthropy separated her from the rest of the werewolf population but she still hesitantly considered herself one of them. It was sad, really, and upsetting to know that even among supernatural beings, those who were... different from the rest were still pushed back from the face of society.
"Possibly." Actually, for once, I wasn't particularly interested in searching for any more weaknesses. This time, I wanted to know just for curiosity's sake; and I think my friend - my friend? - knew that based on the teasing edge to her smile. "So, do you know, or are you uneducated on such topics?"
