Which left her with a choice of bison, bison, or bison for lunch. Yum.

She walked up to the counter in the front room, drew back the slide bolt on top of the go-through, and headed for the door, saying, “Time to close up for the midday break.”

She spotted Greg O’Sullivan walking across the delivery area at the same moment he spotted her. Changing course, he opened the door of the Liaison’s Office and stepped inside.

Skippy leaped to his feet and growled menacingly. Nathan looked at the ceiling, as if pretending to take no notice of the juvenile Wolf’s behavior. O’Sullivan froze by the door.

There was no reason to threaten the ITF agent. He rented a room above the office. He’d been given work space in the consulate. But he’d been gone for a few days, so it was possible that Skippy didn’t remember him.

“That’s an impressive-sounding growl,” Meg said. “Very watch Wolf. Agent O’Sullivan, don’t you think that’s an impressive-sounding growl?”

“I certainly do,” O’Sullivan replied.

Nathan looked at the two humans and grunted.

Okay, they were slathering praise with strokes so broad most juveniles would feel insulted at being treated like puppies, but Skippy was Skippy.

“But we know Agent O’Sullivan, and we don’t growl at people we know,” Meg said.

Nathan stared at Meg and growled.

“Unless they are doing something bad,” she amended.

“A growl is just a warning,” O’Sullivan said. “No harm in warning someone that there are consequences to doing something bad.”

O’Sullivan and Nathan looked at each other and moved their heads in tiny nods of agreement. Meg rolled her eyes at this display of law enforcement solidarity.

Skippy flopped down on his Wolf bed, clearly pleased to have performed his watch Wolf duties.

“I’m working alone at the consulate right now, so I was heading over to the Stag and Hare to pick up a sandwich. Would you like me to pick up one for you?”

“I don’t know what kind of food they have there.” But it was a safe bet that they wouldn’t be serving bison.

“It’s basic pub grub,” O’Sullivan said. “The food at Meat-n-Greens is better, if somewhat more creative, but the Stag and Hare gets its supplies from human sources. With the loss of the meat in the butcher shop, it didn’t seem fair to buy a sandwich here when I can go across the street.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll get some money.”

“We can settle up after. Any kind of meat you don’t like?”

Nathan snorted. Meg ignored him. O’Sullivan smiled.

“I’m fine with any of the ordinary meats people eat,” Meg said.

“I’ll choose a couple of things and you can take your pick.”

“Thank you.” Meg scowled at Nathan. “Why don’t you and Skippy go out for your break now?”

O’Sullivan had pushed the door open. Now he stopped and looked at her. “Like I said, there is no one at the consulate right now. If your friends are going out, you should lock the door until I get back.”

“Arroo,” Nathan agreed as he stepped off the Wolf bed and stretched.

Skippy made no move to leave. He just watched Meg with bright-eyed eagerness.

She looked at O’Sullivan, then nodded when he held up three fingers to show he understood he would be buying a sandwich for Skippy. The ITF agent went out the front door, holding it for Nathan. The Wolf looked toward Main Street, then turned sharply and trotted up the access way. She watched O’Sullivan look toward the intersection of Main Street and Crowfield Avenue. She watched him gauge the traffic and dash across the street to the Stag and Hare instead of going up to the crosswalk.

“Roo?”

Meg blinked. Focused on Skippy.

She looked at her right arm. Her left hand hid the evenly spaced scars on her upper arm. Her hand clenched around the arm so hard the muscles hurt.

And the spot on her tongue began to prickle.

She turned the simple lock on the front door. She would get her keys and lock it properly when Agent O’Sullivan returned. Maybe she would ask him to escort her to Howling Good Reads or the Market Square.

Then again, maybe he was the reason she was starting to feel prophecy prickle and burn under her skin. Maybe something was going to happen to him.

She pressed her hand against the pocket of her jeans and felt the shape of the folding razor. Something was going to happen, was happening now. She had the uneasy feeling that even if she made a cut, it was already too late to give a warning.

• • •

“Simon! Vlad!” Merri Lee shouted. “Something is going on across the street.”

Dumping a handful of books back on the cart, Simon rushed to the front of HGR with Vlad right behind him. Merri Lee stood on the sidewalk, mobile phone pressed to one ear, shouting, “You kids! Clarence! Knock it off!”

Simon wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Four human pups were on the grass between the Denbys’ den and the apartment building. That Clarence seemed to be taunting the Frances while Lizzy and Sarah stood nearby, looking like young prey who didn’t know if they should run or huddle together to defend themselves against a predator. Was this a different kind of play the Others hadn’t seen before?

Sam and Robert were still on the porch, obeying Eve’s orders, but they were on their feet, watching that Clarence and the girls. Leetha moved toward the girls but seemed uncertain about whether to act.