When she hesitated, his growl deepened. He couldn’t have her staggering around and around like a brain-damaged bison. Not now. Not ever. Not his friend.
“You.” He pointed at Merri Lee. “Starting today, you’re working two hours less at the bookstore and coffee shop.”
Merri Lee paled. “But I need those hours.”
“That’s not fair,” Meg said, making an effort to stand on her own instead of leaning on the table. “Just because you don’t like what she said—”
“I didn’t say she’ll be working less hours,” Simon snapped. “But she’ll be working here with you because you two are going to figure out exactly why this happened, exactly why Meg panicked, and what to do so it doesn’t happen again.”
“Simon, I’ll be fine,” Meg began.
“This isn’t just about you,” he said. “The girls we brought back from the compound are breaking down like you did just now, only it’s happening to one or more of them every day. The Intuits don’t know how to help them. The humans who know the most about blood prophets aren’t going to help us give their property a way to live outside the safe cages. You know they won’t. Jean called you the Pathfinder, the Trailblazer.”
Merri Lee jolted. “What did you say?”
Simon eyed her. “Pathfinder. Trailblazer.”
Merri Lee swallowed hard and looked at Meg. “Those were two of the things you said during the prophecy. Path and compass. Trail and fire. Those were things the terra indigene were supposed to watch for.”
“You two are going to figure out what the cassandra sangue need—and what humans and Others need to do to help them stay alive,” Simon said.
“What do you expect us to do?” Meg shouted. “Write The Dimwit’s Guide to Blood Prophets?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I want you to do.” Looking at their stunned expressions, he wondered if he’d been a little too honest. “Figure it out and write it up so we can pass on the information to everyone who is trying to help these girls.”
“I’m not a writer,” Merri Lee protested. “I can make notes, sure, but I can’t write up something like that!”
“Ruthie will help you write it.” There. Problem solved. Ruthie was a teacher. She wrote sentences all the time.
“Have . . . have you talked to Vlad?” Merri Lee asked. “Has he told you about this morning’s prophecy?”
“Not yet.” He looked at the girls and softened his voice. “Figure this out, Meg. Jean said you’re the one who can do it.”
Simon walked out of the office, closed the back door, and stopped. Just stopped. He couldn’t call the other Wolves in the Courtyard to help him drive away this danger to his friend. This danger lived inside her, was part of her—like the blood swimming with visions and prophecies, like her fragile skin.
How was he supposed to protect Meg from Meg?
Tess stepped out of the back door of A Little Bite. It would have been easier for her to use the inside doorway between the two stores to reach the upstairs meeting room, so she must have come outside to check on him.
<You going to the meeting?> she asked, pointing to HGR’s second floor.
<Yes.> He crossed the paved area behind the buildings, and they went up to the meeting together.
He didn’t regret staying in the Courtyard in order to stay with Meg, but right now he wished he could shed all the human problems along with the human skin.