Brad regained consciousness about twenty minutes after Will left him in a bloody heap on the sidewalk, stalking away with clenched fists without a backward glance.

Despite the dozens of fights he's been in before, I've never seen Will like this- ruthless, precise, fast. Super fast. Brad might've caught the first punch, but the series of kicks and head butts that followed, almost blurry with their swiftness, were way out of his league.

I stood, frozen with disbelief and shock in the aftermath. It was Frieda who went out, bent down and lifted her grown son, carrying him neatly into the cafe. She placed him in the chair, made sure he wasn't going to fall out of it and went into the back room. She came back a minute later with a wet cloth and began cleaning up Brad's face.

I took a step toward them, shoe crunching broken glass. "I'm so sorry."

"I've always taught him reach for anything he wants in life with all he's got," Frieda said quietly, her movements soft as the white cloth quickly turned crimson. "What just happened is neither your fault nor mine. The blame is all Brad's and he knows it."

The person in question groaned.

"Can't I get at an grain of sympathy from you?" Brad asked, opening his eyes- or at least trying to, the other one was swollen shut. "I'm on the brink of death here."

Frieda stroked his head, smiling. "You knew you weren't going to win but you went ahead anyway. You don't deserve any sympathy, just look at how embarrassed Kiara is."

I don't know how she could tell, her eyes were firmly shut this entire time, but I didn't think asking that particular question was entirely appropriate right now. "I'm fine," I assured her. To Brad, "How are you feeling?"

I winced at how lame my question sounded. How was he feeling? He looked like he'd been run over a bus. Twice. There was a fair amount of blood soaked into his shirt and sweats, enough that I was surprised he wasn't bleeding like a running tap where he sat. The parts of his face that weren't covered in red were bruising, his nose was probably broken and he was sporting a split lip. He gave me a smile that looked painful.

I started crying. I couldn't help it. I liked Brad and I liked his mom, yet look at the chaos and hurt I brought on them. After they tried helping us.

"Fred..."

"Don't call me that, and I know." I watched a tear-blurred Frieda stand up and approach me. She took my hand in her small, surprisingly calloused one. "Wipe your eyes, honeybunch, and look at the idiot."

"What?" I asked, wiping at my tears.

She smiled. I noticed her eyelashes were long, her eyelids glittery with pale pink eye shadow. Pretty. "His face. Look at it."

I looked. Brad winked at me...with the swollen eye that was now perfectly fine. His face wasn't bruised anymore and the blood was gone. Not a drop on his cloths or the floor. I stepped back, noticing there wasn't any glass under the soles of my shoes. I turned, coming face-to-face with the perfectly intact window. It was exactly the way it'd been when we first came in. Spotless.

I gaped at Frieda. "How?"

"Magic. I wasn't planning on healing him, was going to let him suffer the consequences of his actions and all like a good mother, but I also can't have pretty girls crying over him either. He's good as new so stop the water works, sweetheart." She pulled me back to my chair. "Sit down and finish your cookies. We need to finish talking about that killer."

***

The conversation continued as if Will and Brad's hadn't interrupted but I kept stealing glances at Brad's immaculate skin, marveling at the instantaneous healing. Worried he might start bleeding again. Eventually he got fed up and kicked me under the table, which prompted Frieda to kick him back.

He glared at me. I shrugged but I was trying hard not to smile.

"The Alpha Eater isn't notorious because she hasn't been active long and she's only struck smaller packs. Her first attack was in Florida, where she got rid of her own mate and pack before moving on to two other alphas. Will is the fourth target." Frieda folded her hand on the table. "Despite the way Will dealt with my son oh-so very easily earlier, he won't stand a chance against her."

My heart sank. "Why is that?"

"Her sword. The Alpha Eater. The closer and longer it's near an alpha or dominant werewolf, the quicker and more energy it drains from them. Makes them weaker, slower. Not even noticeable to the person being attacked."

I sucked in a deep breath, biting at my lip. There goes whatever hope had sprung in my heart.

Brad laid a hand on mine, his eyes solemn. "Don't worry, I'll bring a nice bouquet to his funeral-" he jumped from the force of Frieda's kick, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"It's not just Will she's after. She goes after packs that have done nothing to stop the alpha as well," Frieda said.

I frowned. "What are you saying?"

Frieda gave me a pitying look. "I'm saying there's going to be a massacre here soon."