They ran all the way to her house. He was still in the lead, looking around constantly. He kept glancing back to make sure she was there, but did not recognize that fury had replaced her fear. When they got to her front yard, she hit him full force on the chest and knocked him to the ground. She stood over him and glared down at him, fists curled at her sides.

"Amanda?" he said in surprise.

"What the hell are you?" she demanded.

He looked away but didn't answer.

She straddled his chest and held him down. "Answer me! What are you?"

"I am Connor," he said evasively. "Amanda, what is-"

"Quit the bullshit," she raged. She pointed back the way they came. "That was not humanly possible."

"I saved your life."

"That was not possible," she repeated. She leaned over and looked closely at his face. "You, you and all your friends . . . there's something different about you. You are not," she paused. She had never thought she'd say this aloud. "You are not human, are you?"

He struggled to avoid her gaze. "I am trying to protect you, Amanda," he said. "Can't you just trust me?"

"I want the truth."

"You wouldn't believe it anyway."

"Try me," she said, still sitting atop him. She crossed her arms. "You were bit by a radioactive spider? I am about ready to accept anything."

"Can't you just trust me?" he pleaded. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you."

"Trust is a two-way street," she replied. "I will trust you to protect me when you trust me enough to tell me the truth. I can take it."

A smile played across his face. "I told Dad that just last week. If anyone can take the truth, it's you." He bucked her off, gently enough to not hurt her but hard enough to let her know that he had never really been trapped under her. He rolled onto all fours but didn't rise. "Amanda, I am a werewolf."

She rolled her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. "I was afraid you were going to say that," she said. Then she hit him. "Ass."

"It's not what you think," he said. "We aren't monsters." He glanced down the street and added, "We aren't all monsters, that is. Look, it's not like in the movies, okay? It's not a virus or a curse. You don't get it from being bitten. I don't change at the full moon, and I don't become an unthinking monster. We aren't even sure what it is, really. It's a family thing, a bloodline."

She pushed him over. "I knew that," she said.

"Bullshit," he said, laughing. "How could you know that?"

"Screw you. Have you forgotten who my uncle is? Half the books in there," she nodded at her house, "are old Norse sagas. They talk about it all the time, the shape-strong clans who can change their form."

He sat up, alert. "Really, you have books about that?"

"Well yeah, but they are just books. I didn't think it was real," Amanda said. "Are you for real?"

He looked around slyly. "Come on," he said playfully. He pulled her to her feet and started toward her backyard.

She followed wordlessly. When they got there, he looked around again to see if anyone was watching. He peeled off his coat and handed it to her. "Hold this." He pulled his shirt off and handed it to her as well. Then he looked around again before pulling his pants off as well.

"Connor, I am not sure . . ." Amanda began nervously.

"It's okay," he blushed, "I just don't want to get them ruined, is all." He stood in front of her in nothing but his boxers for a second. Then he was gone. In his place was a large, sleek, black wolf. The wolf regarded her then turned in a circle in front of her. It barked once and then rubbed against her leg.

She looked at it. The color of its coat was a match for Connor's hair, and its sleekness, a match for Connor's human form. The beautiful creature smiled up at her slyly.

She bent and said teasingly, "Shall I get you a treat?" It growled at her and then changed back into Connor.

"Don't even joke about that kind of stuff," he told her. "Now could you turn around while I put my pants on?" His boxers had been shredded in the transformation and he was naked, bent over so she couldn't see anything.

She turned around dutifully but couldn't resist saying, "I saw it all when you were in wolf form anyway."

She could almost feel the heat of his blush, though he said matter-of-factly, "That's different. That's wolf form. Okay, you can turn back around."

She admired his slender chest as she handed him his shirt. He quickly slid it over his head and on. She handed him his jacket, but he did not put it on.

"My dad is going to kill me for telling you," he said. "But I don't care. I knew you could handle it. I feel such a relief not having to keep that secret from you. It will make telling you the truth so much easier."

"Wait a minute," she said, catching his inference, "that," she pointed at the spot where he had transformed, "was not," and then made air quotes around the next set of words, "the truth?"

"That was," he paused then did air quotes himself. "The tip of the iceberg of the truth."

They walked to the back porch and each pulled up a wooden chair.

"The tip of the iceberg, huh?"

"Yeah, my family," he began, "we are a tribe."

"Of werewolves?"

"Yeah well, not everyone has the gift. Dad and his family do. They are a pack. Dad and Mom are alphas. Valerie, Mitch, and Vince are their betas, their pack."

"And Tanner, Jonathan, Erica, and Brianna are . . .?"

"My pack," he said. "I'm the new alpha. Look, this is how it works for us. I can't say it's the same for every tribe. Anyway, every Leidulf family member has the blood-we call them kin-but not all have the ability. We all camp together, every summer. A lot of the kin just think it's a family tradition, but enough know the truth to make sure the tradition lives on. The kids, fifteen, sixteen years old, are required to go to a special summer camp right in the middle of our tribal territory. It's gorgeous and fun. Every night the wolves howl and howl. For a lot, it's a comforting thing they will remember for the rest of their lives, but for some it's a call." He paused, remembering something. "I was called. Something about the howling spoke to me. I couldn't resist. I got up in the middle of the night, left my cabin, and ran off into the woods. Before I knew it I was in wolf form and being greeted by my kind, other wolves."

The door was opened suddenly, forcing their conversation to stop. Uncle Darren stepped out, looking at the two of them suspiciously. He was holding a bag of charcoal in one hand, lighter fluid and a lighter in the other. It seemed little more than an excuse to check up on them. "You guys doing okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quickly, "we were just talking. Privately," she added pointedly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay then, as long as you are okay and just talking," he said. To Connor he added, "Amanda's been to your place lots. Would you care to stay for supper?"

"That would be wonderful, Mr. Burnson, sir."

"Good, make yourself useful," Uncle Darren replied, dumping the supplies on his lap. "I'll go thaw an extra steak."

Amanda rolled her eyes and stood as her uncle shut the door behind him. She picked up the charcoal and went over to the grill. Connor followed.

"So you discovered you were a werewolf this summer," she said. "That explains a lot."

"Yeah, so we spent the rest of the summer in training-everyone that converted, that is. We spent some of our time with the kin at camp, but as the summer progressed, we were doing more and more in the woods in wolf form, learning to control the transition and learning how to live as werewolves. The leaders tested us too, a lot. By the end of the summer, they selected me to be alpha of this generation's pack. We were all fostered out to Mom and Dad. Their pack is supposed to be training us to be the next generation."

Amanda poured half a bag of charcoal into the grill, and Connor covered it in fluid and lit the fire. "So," he went on, "that's the background part of the truth."

A cold hard suspicion filled Amanda. "These people who are after me, are they . . .?"

"Yes, they are werewolves too. We became aware that another pack was in this vicinity this fall." He paused. "That homeless guy, he wasn't human. We recognized right off that he was another shifter. We've been tracking him for months. He keeps a low profile. You need to understand something about wolf society, Amanda. We are territorial. You don't just move into another pack's territory without announcing yourself."

"So these other wolves are rude?" Amanda ventured.

"They are up to no good!" he barked. "It's more than rude. It's an act of war. They know we are here. We know they are here. But they don't show themselves, ever. They slink around and hide. They are up to something, that much is sure."

"So who is this other pack, tribe, whatever?"

"We don't know. We've never smelled anything like them."

"What do you think they are up to?"

"They are trying to kill you." Connor said pointedly.

"But why? It makes no sense." Her eyes pleaded with him for an explanation.

"We don't know for sure, but we have a theory," he admitted.

"I'm ready. Let's hear it."

"We think it's because of your odor."

"You are kiddin' me, right?" she said, incredulous. Then she huffed, "Why does it always come back to that damn smell?"

"Stop, Amanda," he said. "It's not like that. Just listen. You smell different. Different than me and my friends, sure, but also different from all the other kids at school."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You are kin, Amanda."

"Kin?" she echoed.

"Not kin to my tribe, or any tribe we know, but somehow you are kin."

"How is that possible?" she whispered, more to herself than to Connor.

He shrugged. "It happens. People have moved around a lot in the last century or so. We try to keep track of all our kin and we have been fairly lucky in that regard. But the old traditions are fading. Some tribes have lost kin. Brother fights with brother, one moves away and has no contact. Years pass and another generation grows up, not knowing they belong to the bloodline. We think that's what happened with your family."

Amanda thought about it. The Burnsons were a close-knit group. What about Mom's family? No one spoke of them. She didn't even know her mother's maiden name. Could they have been kin?

"What does that have to do with this other pack?" she asked.

He shrugged. "There is something about your smell-" he stopped and qualified, "and we're just guessing on all this right now . . . but we think their clan is at war with your clan. They are trying to eradicate all the kin."

"But that's-," Amanda started. She was going to say "crazy," but he interrupted with something else.

"Genocide?" he said. "Yeah, it's ugly but it happens. Look we-the Leidulfs, that is-have adjusted to modern life. We are all peaceful members of modern human society. You've seen us. Everyone in my parent's pack have steady jobs, lives. We are law abiding, Dad's even a cop. But not all tribes are like us. The Fleischer tribe, our nearest neighbor to the south . . . they are vicious."

"Killers?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Mostly drug dealers and gang members. Not the kind of people you would want to meet in a dark alley. The point is that they aren't nearly as integrated into human society. There are always rumors of really wild tribes, tribes of warriors that care nothing for peaceful coexistence with humankind."

"And you think one of these tribes is after me?"

"That's the theory."

"But you are protecting me from them. Why?"

He gave her a look: you don't know?

The door opened again, and Uncle Darren came out, stopping their conversation. Amanda had more than enough to digest anyway.

#

The venison steaks sizzled over the hot coals. Uncle Darren had prepared several baked potatoes and frozen corn for side dishes. While he was cooking, Connor texted home and told his parents he would be eating here.

Amanda was quiet throughout the meal. There were a million questions competing for space in her head. There was no way she could ask any of them with Uncle Darren and Hunter present. Maybe it was just as well; she couldn't quite decide which one to ask first anyway.

Connor's phone beeped halfway through the meal. He inspected it briefly and then looked up. "Umm, Dad wants to know if Amanda can come over after supper?" he said.

"It's a school night," Uncle Darren said.

"I know, it won't be long. It's about the investigation." Connor said. Amanda looked at him sharply.

Uncle Darren gave a brief glance at Hunter, who knew only a fraction of what was really going on. "For a while," he said, "but you can't be out late, got that?"

They both nodded. As soon as they were done eating, they made their way across the yard in the gathering dusk and out onto the street.

"Okay, I have some questions," Amanda said as they walked.

"I'll do my best to answer."

"Why me? And I don't mean the kin thing, I mean why me? Why not Darren? Or Hunter?"

"Hunter, that's pretty easy," Connor said. "I'm guessing your scent wasn't that noticeable until puberty. It's always strongest about that time-for all of us. We hide our scents with special deodorants, perfumes, colognes. Hunter is just too young to have the smell yet. Now if the wolves have seen enough of your human life to form a connection, they might decide he's your kin and they might go after him."

"And Uncle Darren?" she asked.

"Maybe he's not kin," Connor suggested, then thought about it. "No, he's kin. He smells like you. I don't know. They seem almost skittish of getting too close to him or the house."

"And that's my other question," Amanda said. "If they are as bad as you say, why not just come up to the house and kill us all?"

"We aren't indiscriminate killers," Connor said.

"I know you aren't, but what about these guys? You said you think they are out for genocide. Why not surround our house and torch it?

"It's not just an ethical thing," Connor said. "I mean, for us it's about ethics, but for a lot of tribes, it's more about practicality. One on one, a human stands no chance against my kind. But if you start killing masses indiscriminately, pretty soon you've got the police on your tail. Enough federal marshals and swat teams after you and it's all over."

He stopped walking for a moment and turned to her. "We have incredible regenerative capacities. You could put a .22 to my arm and shoot a hole in it. Tomorrow it would barely be a scar. But if your uncle uses one of those high-powered rifles he uses for big game and puts a gaping hole in my chest, I am as dead as anyone. I suspect that's part of why they aren't going after him first. He may not be a match for a werewolf in a stand-up fight, but he's a potential danger. Better to pick off the kids first and then come back for him later."

She shivered at the thought. They'd started walking again, and she leaned in closer to him.

"Besides they won't come to your house because we are watching. We've made that abundantly clear. Between Dad's pack and mine, we've pretty much got someone patrolling all the time."

Aaron Leidulf greeted them warmly as they came into his house. The kids came thundering up the stairs, calling out to them. As she watched all the interaction, she could suddenly read the looks, the casual hugs, and touches in a new way. The leaders and their packs.

"I wanted to see you because I think we have a lead," Aaron said to Amanda.

"You've caught the biker guy?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, I am afraid not. Mitch is keeping an eye on his bar. If it's the same guy, and I am willing to bet it is, he'll call us as soon as he shows. Then we can call in an anonymous tip and send an on-duty officer to question him."

"Will they arrest him?" Connor asked.

Aaron shrugged. "That depends," he said. "Unfortunately he will probably deny everything. If it comes down to he said, she said, I can't say what the officer will do. If the details Amanda gave match him close enough, they might bring him in. But even if they don't, they will have to take his ID and run it. So we'll know a name, an address, etc. We should have enough for a restraining order, at the very least."

"A restraining order!" Jonathan exploded. "What good will that do?"

Amanda was inclined to agree. Connor, however, jumped to his dad's defense. "It will do a lot," he said. "If he shows anywhere near the school, he is in violation of the order and he can be arrested."

"And if I see him in my yard and shoot him with one of Uncle Darren's rifles, it will be self-defense," Amanda added savagely. Aaron raised an eyebrow at her.

Erica laughed. "You go, girl."

Aaron coughed nervously and said, "Well, anyway, we have a lead on the other guy, the one who cornered you near the buses."

"Yeah," Brianna said, "you've got to see this. I found it online."

Aaron led them into the den. Brianna sat at the desktop computer and brought the browser up. Amanda gasped as she saw the familiar face. Rat-like, thinning brown hair, shifty brown eyes, there could be no mistaking him.

"Who is he?" she said and then she saw it on the other side of the screen. Stanley Gaiman, it read. She read through the information on the right. He was a registered sex offender.

"He is one sick bastard," Aaron said grimly then began to read through the charges, translating them to layman's terms for Amanda's benefit. "Kidnapped a child under the age of nine. Attempted murder. Which means the victim must have survived. That's about the only good thing about the whole ugly crime."

Jonathan snorted. "I am not sure I agree." He said darkly. Amanda looked up at him shocked. "Because his victim survived, he only did seven years," Jonathan explained, "which means he is out and abusing others."

"Sad but true," Aaron said. "Brianna did a court records search, and he's been accused of other attacks, but has managed to either get off or plea bargain to a lesser offense. Worse still, I ran him through the database at work, and he's been investigated for numerous other incidents, including some crimes where the victim did not survive. He was listed as a suspect in a supposedly consensual slavery ring out east, which turned out to be anything but. They never caught him."

"There is something else you should know, sir." Connor said suddenly.

"Yes?" His dad raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"It's about Amanda." Connor e stood and faced his father. "I told her."

A look passed between father and son. He did not ask what she had been told. His lips were a tight line, and Amanda could tell he wasn't happy.

"I thought we had this discussion already, Connor."

"I know. I felt she could handle the truth." His head was down but he didn't back away. "And she could," he added.

"So you decided to tell her without consulting me first? After we already discussed why that might be a bad idea?" Aaron said tightly.

"I beat it out of him." Amanda said, standing next to Connor. Erica snickered. Aaron's gaze fell on her, and she flinched but held it. "I have noticed things," she said, trying to master her racing heart. "Things about your family and things about these guys. I forced him to tell me the truth."

"Forced him?" Aaron said doubtfully. "Just how did you force him?"

"I said I wouldn't be his girlfriend anymore," she said, feeling foolish the minute the words left her lips. She kept going. "The point is it's my fault. I pushed him by threatening to end our relationship."

"Is that so?" Aaron's gaze shifted back and forth between her and Connor. She expected him to lambast his son again, this time over how foolishly he'd acted over a girl. Instead he nodded slightly. "So you know?"

She nodded.

"And you don't think he's just crazy, pulling your leg?"

She thought hard. Did she admit that he'd transformed in front of her? Or would that be too far? "Umm, I have seen stuff. That biker guy, Stanley too . . . they both move so fast. It's not human." She latched on that fact and ran with it. "The only time I have ever seen anyone move like that was when Connor came to my rescue. Besides, Dad's got these old saga books. Some of them talk about it, the shape strong."

"Shape strong?" he asked.

"People who can change forms," Connor supplied. "Apparently it was well known once."

"I didn't believe it was true before," Amanda said, "but I've seen a lot of what is in those books with my own eyes. Why should this be different?"

"So how much do you know?" Aaron asked.

"I know that this man," she pointed at the screen, "this Stanley, is a shapeshifter too. He's part of a pack that's invaded your territory. I know they are trying to kill me because they think I am some distant kin to their enemies or something."

Aaron sighed. "The last part is speculation," he said. He shot Connor a warning glance. "Connor was apparently right about your ability to handle the truth." She beamed at the indirect compliment. "But that doesn't make this theory true. I am not convinced you are kin."

"You have another theory?" she asked.

"I think they are a true wild pack," he said. "I think they are after Darren." He shrugged. "Who knows? In the course of your uncle's long hunting career, he could have easily crossed path with the pack, thinking they were just wolves. He did something to piss them off, maybe he killed one of their members. Now they are looking for revenge."

"No," she said emphatically. "Uncle Darren has never killed a wolf in his life. He's not a trophy hunter. He only hunts for meat."

Aaron shrugged and sighed. "I don't know, it's hard to say what got them riled. Maybe it was just crossing their territory. Anyway it doesn't matter. My theory's been shot to pieces anyway." He tapped the screen. The top of the screen contained a crest for the State of Massachusetts. "Not much wilderness in Massachusetts, I don't think. They're not a wild pack. And it's nothing personal one way or another. I am just not convinced you are kin."

"But what other explanation is there?" Connor challenged. "Of course, she's kin."

"So now that you know who he is, Stanley Gaiman, what does that mean?" she said, wanting to change the subject before Connor and his dad started fighting again.

"Nothing," he said, "and everything. We still have no idea where he's hanging out. We've run a check for credit cards, hotel reservations that sort of thing, but he's not using his given name around here, obviously. But this is still a huge break. Now we have photos to identify him. Best of all, he's on the registry. He's supposed to have an address listed at all times. The mere fact that he's in Iowa and not Massachusetts is enough to get him thrown back in jail. And believe me the second he's in our county lock up I am going to put in a courtesy call to each and every officer that has ever investigated him for any crime and make sure they know where he is and what he's suspected of."

"Connor said it's a pack," Amanda said. "So there is this Stanley guy, the homeless guy, and now the biker guy. Is that it?"

"Probably not," Aaron said. "But these are the ones that have shown themselves. Wolf packs are usually between four and six, occasionally larger but almost never less. We are doing our best, keeping our eye out for any suspicious people, but spotting a werewolf is not an exact science."

"You can't smell them?"

"They can mask their scent." Connor said. "We do it. You do too now."

"So what should I do?" Amanda asked.

"For now, nothing," Aaron said sternly. He put a hand on each of her shoulders. "Whether or not you are kin, you are a friend of our family and a human in my protection. I will not let anyone hurt you, whatever I have to do to keep you safe, I promise I will do." She nodded. "And if I cannot seem to convince my son, maybe I can convince you, please don't talk about us. Even a rumor of what we are-" he broke off, "enough people think our life is a little crazy as it is. If they had any inkling what we were, it would ruin us. Whatever powers we have, creating money, jobs, and food are not among them. Please don't tell anyone what we are."

"Your secret is safe with me," she assured him.

#

When Amanda woke the next morning she considered for a moment that yesterday had been one long, strange dream. Uncle Darren was already gone for the day when she came downstairs. Hunter was eating cold cereal and looking unconcerned, like an ordinary ten-year-old boy who had no idea that he might be kin to werewolves or hunted by the same. She wished she could go back to that feeling.

She looked around the cabin. What would she use to defend herself if that biker dude showed up here? Even though Connor and Aaron had promised they were watching, she was going to be self-prepared.

Uncle Darren kept several hunting rifles in a large, locked safe in the basement. She remembered what Connor had said about putting a big enough hole in a werewolf. She certainly had the firepower in the house to do that, but accessibility might be an issue. Her uncle was conscientious about gun safety. When she was old enough, Amanda had gone through a hunter safety course, but she didn't know where the key to the safe was. Besides, if he caught her keeping one of his rifles, loaded and at the ready, he would have a fit.

There were plenty of other weapons around the place, thanks to Uncle Darren's years on the Ren circuit. The umbrella stand by the door boasted two umbrellas, three fencing swords, a Scottish Claymore, and several walking sticks. He did some light metalworking and a lot of bone and wood handle carvings. A box on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in the dining room contained more than two dozen daggers, ranging from finished pieces of great value to blank metal blades with no handles. She could easily snag one of them without comment.

It didn't matter though. She couldn't carry a 30.06 hunting rifle to school. She couldn't carry a Scottish Claymore on her back or a dagger hidden in her backpack. She went to the stand and selected a walking stick, a cane topped with a heavy brass knob. She couldn't get in trouble for having a stick, could she? If she left it in her locker, they wouldn't have any reason to even question it.

It was nice. It felt comforting to have something in her hand. She didn't know how much use it would be against any of them, but at least she would make a stand. She wasn't going to be killed like a helpless little lamb. She'd fight back with every ounce of strength she had. She took an experimental swing.

"Ready?" she said to Hunter. He nodded and got his school bag.

They stepped outside. February was almost over, and the weather was still cold but feeling more like spring with each passing day.

She led Hunter down the yard, feeling defiant. She was not going to let the knowledge that werewolves were after her make her live in fear.

She and Hunter hadn't even made it to the street when someone came bursting through the hedgerow at them. She jumped and held out her cane. It was Connor. He was livid. "You were supposed to wait for us to come up to the house," he said angrily.

"I have been taking care of myself for years before you got here," she said, lowering the cane. "I am not afraid."

His face was a tight mask. "I know but-," he started.

"No buts," she said, "I can take care of myself." It angered her to know that people were watching her. She was most angry at the strangers but she was mad at Connor and his pack too. They had been watching her house and "protecting" her without her knowledge or permission for most of the school year. She wasn't about to become Connor's doormat because he claimed there was an entire pack of werewolves after her.

The others were only moments behind Connor, interrupting the brewing fight. "Well, let's go to school," Amanda said. She slung the cane over her shoulder and marched off, forcing Connor to follow.

She didn't look back the entire way to school. She could hear a few muttered words behind her, and once, Tanner scampered up beside her and asked in a low whisper, "How you holding up?" She just shrugged.