I would’ve stormed back to the graveyard, but I was tired, even more so after that shit show. So the best I managed was a slightly sullen march.

Had I just screwed up? Had I overstepped? Should I have just kept my big mouth shut?

…No. If Blair had been able to defend herself, if some magical bullshit hadn’t silenced her, I would have kept my peace. It would have been hard, really hard, but she could speak for herself.

Except when someone is stopping her from speaking.

I was still pissed about that. Stopping your kid from defending themselves, it made my skin crawl. And it…reminded me.

Jacob ties the gag tight, its coarse edges digging into my cheeks. The scent of jasmine and tobacco filled my mouth, overpowering everything else. “Teach you some respect, girl. One way or another.”

I shook my head. No! Not now.

I took a few deep breaths, my heart, which had kicked into overdrive, slowly calming down.

A fat raindrop landed on my head. I blinked up at the sky and sighed.

I was so focused on my thoughts that I almost didn’t hear the running footsteps until they were almost on me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Blair slow to a jog and then a walk as she fell into step beside me.

I looked straight ahead, keeping my attention on the potholes.

“I’m sorry again if I overstepped. I wouldn’t have said anything if she hadn’t stopped you from speaking.” An excuse right after an apology, classy.

An excuse and explanation aren’t the same things, me!

Blair was silent. The only sounds were our plodding footsteps and the gentle rain.

“I would be a hypocrite,” she finally said. “To be upset. If our situations were reversed, I wouldn’t have stayed quiet.”

She sighed.

“I want to fight my own battles, but she…she took that option away.” My heart clenched at the hurt in her voice.

“A Pack isn’t just one person handling everything themselves. Though I often forget that when it comes to my own problems. So thank you, Alder.”

I let out a deep breath and relaxed.

“I was really scared that I had just messed up there.”

Blair let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong. You just made an enemy. She would have knocked you out cold for talking to her like that if you didn’t have leverage over her.”

I snorted. “That’s better than I was expecting. I figured she’d have killed me.”

Blair was silent for a beat. “No. Despite her many, many flaws, she isn’t a monster. She can be monstrous, but she wouldn’t kill a stranger for disrespect.”

“That’s comforting, at least. Though I was more afraid that I had crossed a line with you, not with her.”

Blair bumped me with her shoulder. “I appreciate the concern.”

~<>~<>~

The rain had picked up by the time we made it to the graveyard, the fat drops falling to the ground with a steady rhythm.

As we walked through the graveyard's small wrought iron gate, the rain was the last thing on my mind.

Trash had been scattered everywhere. Real nasty stuff, too. Rotting food and worse, staining the graves near my house.

A cold flash of rage started up in my chest, but my exhaustion killed it before it could get going.

“Who…” Blair growled, only to trail off as her gaze fell on my house. My front window had been smashed, and a message spray-painted over my door.

“*We’re not scared of ghosts. Watch your back.*”

I rolled my eyes. “Would have sounded better if they had just left it at ‘we’re not scared of ghosts.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Blair sniffed the air. “They used bleach to cover their scents. I can pick up traces of it under the trash.”

So they were covering their tracks, either because they were smart enough to think of werewolves and other spooks tracking them, or they had good noses themselves and knew to hide their scent.

“This is totally George, right?”

Blair nodded. “Definitely.”

I sighed. “I mean, why even bother hiding his scent? There isn’t anyone else I’ve threatened with the ghostly choir recently.”

Blair glared at me. “You are far too calm about this. George isn’t going to just rough you up. Chances are he’s plotting to kill you.”

I shrugged, which probably wasn’t the right response. “Eh.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Eh? That’s all? Just eh!”

I nodded. “Honestly, yeah. This is frustrating, but it’s hardly the first time a band of spooks has wanted me dead. I’m going to need some ghosts on constant watch and to get my hands on some silver bullets.” I sighed with more frustration in it and rubbed my face.

The next few weeks were probably going to feature a lot of sleepless nights.

“I’ll probably set up some stink traps and call the police if I catch them vandalizing the place again before they try to kill me. Spooks don’t usually expect that.”

Blair just stared at me, her expression flat. “No.”

I blinked. “What do you mean no?”

“No. None of that is happening.” She paused. “Having ghosts keep watch and getting silver bullets is a great idea, actually, but do you really think I’m just going to sit by while you’re in danger?”

I stared at her dumbly. “Uhh, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think about that at all. I just, well…”

I’m not used to having anyone but the ghosts to count on.

I didn’t say it, but Blair read it on my face.

“You are not alone, Alder.”

I swallowed, the surge of emotion those words brought, taking me off guard.

“I- Ahh…thanks.”

She smiled and slowly reached out and patted my shoulder. It felt…fine—no immediate shudder or flood of memories.

Though that could have just been because it wasn’t direct, it had never been the touching itself. It had been the warmth of living flesh.

Which sounded really edgy when phrased like that.

“We need to keep at least two of my Pack with you at all times.”

I started to protest but needed to wipe my eyes.

Stupid rain.

I sighed, my natural desire not to be a bother clashing with my practicality.

Practicality won.

“That’s…reasonable. Just one would put them in danger too.”

Blair nodded. “Not only do I need to protect you for personal reasons, but the Northwoods also can’t have other werewolves killing spooks in our new territory.”

“It would make you look weak.”

She nodded.

“Plus, while the other factions won’t know you’re the reason the ghosts will vouch for us, we, and the ghosts, do. That’s just another reason we have to keep you safe.”

I blinked. I hadn’t thought about it over the last week, but I had just given the Northwoods Pack a vested interest in keeping me alive.

Blair studied me, her brows furrowed. “You just realized it, didn’t you.”

“Huh?”

“That we would need to keep you safe, even if you weren’t my friend.”

“Yeah, that just now occurred to me. In my defense, I had a lot on my mind.”

Blair threw her head back and laughed. And I don’t mean a snort or chuckle either. She howled with laughter.

“It’s not that funny.”

She doubled over, still howling into the rain.

I crossed my arms but couldn’t suppress a smile of my own.

She slowly stopped laughing and straightened. She wiped a tear from her eye.

“It really isn’t that funny!”

“Alder, I’ve spent a good bit of the Pass trying to figure out your angle. What you had to gain by vouching for us, by putting yourself through…everything.”

That made sense. I’d have been pretty freaking curious if I was in her shoes.

“I had settled on the protection from my Pack being what you were after. That was the only thing that made sense to me. But that didn’t sit right either. Someone whose first concern is personal safety doesn’t volunteer for something like Old Tom’s Pass.”

Blair beamed down at me, the expression radiant on her usually reserved face.

“But it just hit me. You said it before agreeing in the first place. Vote with the interests of Silver Spruce and its residents in mind. You just wanted to help.”

I blushed. “It makes me sound like a dork when you put it like that,” I muttered.

She smiled wider. “No, Alder, it makes you sound kind.”

I blushed harder.

Blair walked by me, gently bumping my shoulder as she passed.

“You got some trash bags, or do we need to go to a store?”

I shook myself and followed her. “Of course, I have trash bags!” I almost told her that she didn’t need to help me, but the words died on my tongue. If she wanted to help, I wouldn’t push her away.

“I’ll go grab 'em.”

The work was, well, it was picking up garbage. But rubber gloves and some nose clips made the process a whole lot smoother.

As the rain continued to roll down and the sky darkened, Blair and I picked up garbage. And I felt…content.