He cocked his head as if to say, Of course. Why are you standing there? Get your coat!
“Wait there.” She left the door open while she put on her coat and made sure she had her keys. Simon wasn’t going to like her decision, so joining him in playtime might make him less snappish when she told him she was going to make a cut in an effort to find the Controller.
That much decided, Meg closed the door and walked down the stairs with Simon right beside her.
Simon walked beside Meg, growling softly. Damn clueless human female. It wasn’t like she didn’t know the game. He’d offered her the rope a half dozen times since they started walking toward the fork that led to the Pony Barn, but she just strolled along with her hands in her pockets! What sort of game was that?
When she finally took her hands out of her pockets, he pricked his ears, anticipating play. But she just covered her mouth and yawned. He enjoyed taking a walk with Meg and having time to leisurely sniff at what was around them, but he thought she’d accepted his invitation for a game and—
She grabbed the rope so suddenly, he braced and pulled without thinking. Letting out a gleeful hoot, she released the rope and shouted, “You’re it!” Then she lunged at him. And he, being unprepared, leaped away from her. And she chased him!
<Wait! I’m the one who’s supposed to chase!>
Of course, she couldn’t hear terra indigene speech, so she chased him, trying to grab his tail!
Meg didn’t hear him, but the other Wolves did.
<Simon?> Blair called. <Simon!>
Suddenly there were Wolves racing toward him and Meg—Blair, Nathan, John, Elliot, and Jane. Even Alan, Joe, and Jackson had come along for an evening romp.
He saw Joe and Alan focus on Meg, probably assuming that she had turned aggressive. He understood why Joe would think that, coming from the Midwest and dealing with all the recent problems with humans. And most of Alan’s stories had deranged humans as the villains, so it wasn’t a stretch for him to react as if a Wolf were under attack.
Before Simon could snap out a warning, Blair and Nathan shoulder-bumped Joe and Alan, knocking them off stride, while Jane and Elliot blocked Jackson.
That’s when Meg pointed at him and shouted, “Simon has the rope!”
And that’s when all the other Wolves focused on him.
Simon spun and ran past Meg, who laughed so hard she could barely walk. Now clear about what game they were playing, the Wolves gave chase. Since he didn’t have to stay on the road to accommodate Meg’s lack of night vision, he ran hard, bounding up the rises and weaving through trees until he could circle back to the sneaky female.
When he reached the road again, with the rest of the Wolves nipping at his heels, he saw Meg trotting back toward the Green Complex. Nathan trotted along with her. He wasn’t sure if that was Nathan’s idea or Blair’s, but it was smart to have a guard with her when she might be mistaken for real prey.
<Your turn,> he said when Blair came up beside him.
Blair obligingly grabbed the rope and ran off.
<Go,> Simon told Nathan. He lunged at the other Wolf when Nathan hesitated. My Meg!
With a yelp of surprise, Nathan sprang out of reach and ran to catch up with the rest of the Wolves playing chase.
Not my Meg, Simon thought uneasily as he settled into a pace that kept him beside her. My Meg sounded like more than a friend. Didn’t it? And thinking that way could be dangerous. The human form was merely a convenience since humans couldn’t seem to interact with anything that didn’t look like them. But absorbing too much from the human form and becoming too much like a human could alienate a terra indigene from his own kind and leave him with no one and no place that felt like home. He was a Wolf, would always be a Wolf. Having a human friend wouldn’t change that. And he wasn’t the only one with a human friend. Henry, Vlad, Tess, Jenni, Jester. Even Winter claimed Meg as a special human friend. Did Nathan …? My Meg! Okay, he could share Meg the squeaky toy with another Wolf but not share Meg the friend with another Wolf? Except Sam, of course. Which was fair since Sam had been friends with Meg first. And he was still a puppy.
My Meg. Another confusion she’d brought into his life and something he would have to figure out later.
Panting, Meg slowed to a walk. Didn’t take that long for her breathing to even out, which pleased him. She was getting stronger, fitter.
“Simon, we need to talk,” she said when they turned into the Green Complex and approached his apartment. She opened his door and let him go in first.
He sighed. He needed to talk to her too, but talk meant human, so he went upstairs to his bedroom to shift and pull on a pair of jeans. When he came back down, she was waiting for him in the living room.
“Sam isn’t living with you anymore?” She sounded wistful, and it struck him that she actually missed the pup. He knew Sam missed her.
“Not all the time. It’s safer for him right now to be with the rest of the Wolfgard. But the next time he’s here, you could come over and spend the day with us,” Simon said. “We’ll even let you choose one of the movies.” And he and Sam would have a talk ahead of time about being polite even when you were bored silly by a movie that someone else was enjoying.
Meg smiled. “I’d like that.”
When he looked human, she was wary of letting him get too close. He sort of understood that since his human form was becoming more interested in hers in ways he was pretty sure didn’t fit with being a friend kind of friend. But she’d let the Wolf cuddle up next to her while they watched a movie. And getting licked by someone furry wasn’t threatening but being kissed by the nonfurred male was, which made no sense when the furry and nonfurred were the same person. Wolf. Whatever.
Maybe that was just Meg, who was more like a puppy learning about the world than an adult female. She didn’t smell like she was interested in kisses. Of course, he wasn’t interested either because they were friends and kisses that weren’t licks would cause more confusion.
Maybe he really did need to read one of those romances about humans and Wolves to figure out the inconsistencies in the female brain.
“Simon,” Meg said quietly.
Her tone reminded him of why they needed to talk—and why he wanted to avoid talking. “Meg?”
“Using prophets’ blood to make drugs that stir up trouble between humans and terra indigene. Grinding up a girl to infect meat so lots of people go temporarily insane. You have to stop those things or it will keep happening, and each time it will be worse. More anger, more hatred.” Meg raised her chin. “You need a prophecy to help you find the Controller. So I’m going to make another cut.”
She said exactly what he needed her to say. But that meant hurting his friend, so he bared his teeth and snarled at her. “I’m not asking you to put your foot in a trap to save the rest of us.”
“No, you’re not. But if one of the pack chose to do it, you’d accept her choice.”
His snarl changed to a whine. He didn’t like it, but she spoke truth. Then again, he didn’t think Meg spoke anything else.
“I’ll make the cut tomorrow morning.”
“No.” He shook his head. “First we’re going to find out whatever you can remember about your journey to Lakeside. That way your skin won’t be wasted.”
“All right.” She shifted her feet. “I should go home now and get some rest.”
He wanted to go with her, wanted to curl up beside her tonight. Then he heard the Wolves howling, a reminder that there were guests in the Courtyard who might become uneasy if they saw evidence of him being too friendly with a human—especially one who was Namid’s terrible creation.