WE HAD FORTY-EIGHT hours until Lia would be frog-marched across a secluded pasture, tied down, and used to fill some void within the SSS’s darkened souls. Forty-eight hours to make a plan, to do enough legwork to ensure said plan wouldn’t result in our youngest pack mate’s demise, and to rebuild the inter-shifter connections that I was certain would be critical to our strategy’s eventual success.
So what did we do first? Take a long nap, of course.
It seemed that Hunter’s role as Tribunal enforcer had some perks after all, the most evident of which was a credit card with no apparent limit. I could almost see the word Suh-weet! appear in a thought bubble above Cinnamon’s lupine head when our not-quite-pack-mate showed us the entire floor of a nearby Holiday Inn that he’d rented out for ou
