Finished with the closet, Nathan poked his head under the bed, then pulled back, sneezing. <Dusty.>
Judging by the look on Montgomery’s face, Simon didn’t have to relay that comment.
Montgomery sighed. “If it was my mama noticing the dust, she would have said, ‘Crispin James, you are disrespecting your home.’”
“Crispin James?” Simon said. “Not Montgomery?”
“Mama calls me Crispin or Crispin James. The rest of the family calls me C.J., and my friends call me Monty.”
“Why do humans need so many names?”
“I do not know.” After a moment, he said, “Sometimes names represent a different aspect of the same person. Crispin James is the son of Twyla and James Montgomery. Lieutenant Montgomery is a police officer. Same person, but the people around me have different expectations, need different things from me.”
“We each have one name,” Simon said.
“That’s not quite true,” Monty said. “I’ve heard you referred to as the Wolfgard when other terra indigene talk about you as the leader of the Courtyard. And then you have Meg Corbyn and cs759. Same person.”
“No.” Simon showed his teeth to emphasize the denial. “One was property. The other is Meg.”
“Same person, but what she was, and is, called carries weight and meaning, for herself and for the people around her,” Monty countered.
The blood prophet pups on Great Island need to have names to help them learn they aren’t property anymore, Simon thought as Nathan gave the bathroom and kitchen a quick sniff while Blair went into the bedroom. Something to discuss with Steve Ferryman since the Intuit might already know some suitable names.
That settled, at least momentarily, Simon watched the humans without making it obvious. Burke remained focused on the Wolves. Montgomery, on the other hand, looked like he regretted calling the Courtyard and letting those sensitive noses poke into every corner of his life.
Blair and Nathan returned to the living room.
“Two scents that aren’t Kowalski or Montgomery,” Blair said. “We don’t recognize them, so it’s no one who has been around the Courtyard.”
Simon saw the tension drain from both men. Not a betrayal from someone Montgomery would trust.
“Thank you for your help,” Burke said.
Simon looked around the apartment. No pack here to help guard the young. No one to protect the Lizzy when Montgomery had to do police things.
Humans were like sticky vines. If you didn’t escape at the first touch, you got more and more tangled up.
Most of them were meat, would always be meat. But, damn it, now when he looked at some of them he just didn’t see them as meat anymore, even when he wanted to bite them for a transgression.
“Predators have found your den,” he said reluctantly, remembering how Montgomery and Burke had helped him protect Meg. “The Lizzy can’t stay here.” Hearing Nathan’s soft, distressed whine, he added with some heat, “But I don’t want her playing with Meg or Nathan until she understands how much trouble she caused today by being a whiny human.”
Judging by the way Montgomery stiffened, his hackles would have risen in defense of his young—if humans had hackles.
But Simon heard more regret than anger in Montgomery’s voice when the man said, “I am sorry that Meg and Nathan were harmed by Lizzy’s actions. Young humans will misbehave and make mistakes.”