Jack could have told Dad she wasn’t ready for a trip into the city, much less seeing her demi deal with a potential Pride traitor, but the old man had his own methods for testing such things. At least Zoe was relaxing; she didn’t look ready to bolt more than twice a day. The great communal Moonfall celebrations could wait; right now she was a quivering mass of raw nerves, a shy doe just barely coaxed from the forest’s edge and more than ready to vanish into undergrowth at the slightest provocation.
demiFortunately, Jackson Rouje had a great deal of patience, and his own form of sensitivity. The intuition of the Sorcerer’s Gene was far beyond his reach, but an analyst’s talent—what they used to call the Strategist’s Mind, accorded high honor among all Kith—was sufficient to watch his demie
