Chapter 27
I was a conductor guiding a tremendous orchestra. Strings—Hunter caught my eye and nodded as he handed off a massive wad of cash to the ambulance driver and accepted the vehicle’s keys in exchange. Brass—Lambert flashed his badge and confiscated the television crew’s memory card while Robert began charming the general audience out of their belief in paranormal events. Woodwinds—Lupe strode up the empty street at the head of a pack of half-wild werewolves, Chuck staggering along in their midst.
Woodwinds? the young woman questioned through our shared pack bond. Her tone was snarky, but her signature taste in my mouth was all rose petals. Are you serious? You think I’m what, a clarinetist?
I was going to say flautist, I responded. You’ve got a bit of a Pied Piper vibe going on.
