Chapter 9
To shift or not to shift? That was the question.
I was still just as intent on protecting Celia as I had been before Lambert made his declaration. Still, I wouldn’t be able to help my mother from behind bars.
Meanwhile, the notion of being confined to a locked cell with one-body video cameras and nosy guards preventing me from stretching out into lupine form sent shivers running up and down my spine.
Before I could make a rational decision—or, let’s face it, could do something stupid—aid came from an unexpected source. “If you mean the young lady who went to investigate the bomb threat,” my mother said, her voice so loud and clear that I almost thought she was speaking for my benefit as much as to the cops, “then I can promise you she’s not the guilty party.”
“You know her?”
