Wrong Side of Dead

Chapter Twenty-seven

On Monday afternoon, a memorial service for Michael Jenner was held in the city’s high school gymnasium. Someone called in a favor and, with school still out for the summer, the request was granted. Hundreds (if not close to a thousand) Therians filled the bleachers—more than I’d ever seen gathered in one place at any given time. The majority were Equi, but every Clan was represented—either in the audience or by their Elder.

At one time, fourteen Elders sat on the Assembly; now the Stri were extinct and only four Coni remained. Thanks to an early-morning tutoring session with Kyle, I knew the names of the remaining twelve Clans represented by the Elders seated together on a dais. Six I knew on sight because they had members in the Watch. The sorting of the remaining six remained a temporary mystery, and it was difficult to imagine that one of them could shift into a Komodo dragon.

The only person missing from the group of Elders was Phineas, who’d chosen to sit down among the other Watchtower representatives—everyone except for a skeleton crew had come. A dozen people separated us, including Tybalt, Sharpe, Milo, Marcus, Astrid, Leah, and Jackson. Even Autumn showed up, her throat impressively wrapped in white bandages, upright if a little stoned from painkillers.

I hadn’t managed to ask Phin why he wasn’t on the stage with the other Elders, and as the first person rose to speak, I lost the chance to find out. Kismet and Baylor sat on my right. Wyatt was on my left, my constant companion. I was even getting used to his new silver-rimmed eyes.

When we’d first arrived, some Therians whispered; others bared their teeth. No one was dumb enough to directly threaten either of us.

The service was brief—more of a reflection on Jenner’s commitment to the Clans and the Assembly than a memorial to his life. Considering Therians’ relatively brief life spans, I imagined they rarely had elaborate funerals. Unlike the human rituals meant to comfort those left behind. Few faces in the massive crowd seemed comforted. Mostly they looked angry.

After the service concluded, I cornered Phineas to find out what was going on. He shocked the hell out of me by saying, “I resigned my position as an Elder.”

“You … why?”

“There are too few of us left, Evy. Ava, Aurora, and Joseph were taken because I was too far away to protect them. I cannot serve as an Elder if I can’t even protect three. We’re all that’s left.”

“So what are you going to do? Guard them twenty-four-seven?”

“No. Elder Dane has graciously allowed them to live in his home temporarily. Because he shares a rather large, security-heavy house with the Felia Pride’s Alpha, they’ll be more than safe there.”

“While you do what?”

His expression softened, becoming almost sad. “I’m going away for a while.”

“What? Why?” My heart pounded harder.

“To be certain that we’re alone. Therians live across the globe, but many have chosen to live as outsiders, as animals. My people, the Coni and Stri, embraced our lives among humans. There may be others out there like us. I have to know.” He swallowed hard, his blue eyes glistening. “I have to know if the last of my people will die with Ava.”

I understood, and my heart ached for him. “When?”

“Tonight.”

That hurt like a fist to the eye. “Were you going to say good-bye?”

“Astrid knows my plans, but no. It would have been easier to simply go.”

“You’re coming back.” It was not a question.

“Of course.” He smiled warmly. “My family is here, my friends are here. Just try to not get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

I snickered. “Trouble follows me like a shadow.”

“Even so.”

He looked at Wyatt, and whatever they shared in that silent communication seemed to each satisfy the other. I reached back, and Wyatt slipped his hand into mine. We both squeezed tight.

“Good luck,” Wyatt said.

“And to you both,” Phin replied.

“Maybe try to refrain from getting kidnapped or killed,” I said.

“I’ll do my best.”

Someone called his name, and Phineas melted into the shifting tide of people, both human and Therian. We’d come together to honor a fallen friend. Now it was up to us to remain united against several common enemies—and with those enemies quickly stacking up, it was more important than ever. Especially with the vampires sequestered in their private facility in the outskirts of the city. They’d broken all communication. I had no idea if Isleen, Eleri, and Quince were alive or dead. No one did.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I leaned back against his chest. His familiar scent was there, just a hint of soap and cinnamon, but beneath it was something new. Muskier, more feral. More proof of how much he’d changed in these last twenty-four hours … and how much remained the same.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“The future.”

“Anything in particular about the future?”

“Just glad to have one.” I brought one of his hands up and kissed his knuckles. “With you.”

“Me, too. So much.”

I smiled.

“Anything you want to do with that future right now?” he asked.

“I did kind of have one thing in mind.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” I twisted in his arms to face him and rested my hands on his shoulders.

He was smiling, too, but beneath it lay curiosity and caution. “Will I enjoy this thing on your mind?”

I tilted my head and leaned in just a little, close enough to smell his breath and feel it on my face. “I think you’ll find the results of time spent and energy exerted to be quite rewarding.”

“Then I’m all for it.”

“Fantastic.” I planted a quick kiss on his lips, excited at the prospect of getting started. “Let’s go track us some werewolves.”

He sputtered, and then it turned into laughter. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Together.”

Wyatt brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, love shining in his eyes more vividly than if he’d said the words out loud. “Always.”

Given our line of work, always could as easily mean an hour as a lifetime. But as long as I had him, I planned to love him—him and his grumpy, possessive inner wolf. We’d fought every twist and curve thrown at us since my resurrection. We could deal with Wyatt being part werewolf.

“I just have one condition,” I said.

He quirked a dubious eyebrow. “Oh?”

“If you ever come home with fleas, I’m dumping you.”

Only Wyatt could do incredulous indignation with such precision, and the comical expression made me double over with laughter. He held me patiently until I got it all out of my system, probably fielding a lot of curious stares along the way. Once I had my breathing back under control, I wiped tears from my eyes and stood a little straighter.

“Do you really think I could get fleas?” he asked, perfectly serious.

I lost it all over again.