My mood had not improved by the time I arrived at the edge of the area where shifters and Magi alike gathered for the defense of the Millicent Guthrie Home. I knew I telegraphed my foul frame of mind with every movement and expression, but I simply could not find it within me to put on a happy face, as the song said. The more I learned of shifter society, the more I questioned my gratitude over surviving the cougar.
“Ah, there you are, Wyatt,” Alistair’s voice drew my attention, and I saw my grandpa’s old friend moving through the crowd toward me. “I explained the crisis to the county council in as much detail as I felt appropriate. We haven’t ruled out the presence of shifters in these abduction teams, so I felt the situation warranted a certain level of operational security.”
“Thank yo
