The adult Wolves took up the song. Most of them knew at least some of what had happened. He heard Blair’s voice, and Elliot’s. Then Jane and John and the rest. Then the juveniles and pups. And something else. A voice he’d never heard before.
Meg, kneeling in the grass, one arm around Sam. Meg, howling, adding her voice to the grieving.
When the howling ended, all the pups were pressed around Meg. The pack offering comfort.
Simon watched her as Sam left for a minute and returned with one of the soft ropes, offering the distraction of play. He watched her as she ran around making squeaky noises, pretending to be prey while the pups chased her and the adult Wolves made sure the game didn’t get too rough. He watched as she played tug with Sam.
She had spent most of her life isolated, even when she was surrounded by other humans. Now she was learning as much from the Wolves as she was from the humans about what it meant to have family.
She wasn’t a Wolf. She wasn’t terra indigene. Despite that, Meg was becoming one of them.
CHAPTER 8
Thaisday, Maius 10
“You’ve reached the Borden residence. Leave your name, number, and the purpose of your call.”
Monty hung up without leaving a message. He’d been trying to reach Elayne—or, more to the point, his daughter, Lizzy—since hearing about the abandoned girls and the disposal of cassandra sangue babies. Feeling heartsick, he wanted some assurance, any kind of assurance, that his own little girl was all right. But there had been no answer.
He turned on the news, half listening as he made a sandwich he had no interest in eating and poured another glass of wine.
“In a day full of bewildering tragedies, the terra indigene and police departments all across Thaisia worked together to locate at-risk teenage girls who were wandering alone beside country roads and highways. The girls, left homeless by the sudden closing of several institutions that had cared for troubled teens, were suffering from dehydration and, in some cases, exhibited psychotic behavior when approached by rescue personnel.
“Motivational speaker Nicholas Scratch had this to say about today’s tragic events.”
Monty studied the man now filling the television screen—the man who was currently living with Elayne and Lizzy. Classically handsome with skin that might have been described as swarthy if it didn’t have the gleam of a pampered life. Wavy dark hair that was long enough that it should have looked unkempt if it hadn’t been perfectly styled to defy anything that might leave it mussed. Dark eyes that were filled with fiery sincerity.
Considering what had happened today, it wasn’t surprising that Nicholas Scratch was much in demand. But even if Elayne was attending the news conferences with Scratch, someone should have been home with Lizzy once school let out for the day. Someone should have been answering the phone, especially this late in the evening.
“While humans everywhere applaud the efforts the Others have made today to assist in the search for these troubled children, we also recognize that it is the actions of the terra indigene that set these tragic events in motion in the first place,” Scratch said. “The destruction of an institution in the Midwest, whose personnel allegedly engaged in questionable practices or forms of abuse, and the subsequent threats against any and all places that care for troubled girls, especially those with an addiction to self-harm, is at the core of today’s tragedies. Would the personnel running these establishments have closed them so precipitously if they hadn’t feared reprisals by creatures that cannot understand the pressure humans live with when under constant threat? Would they have left these girls to fend for themselves if they hadn’t feared that the communities where they lived and worked would be destroyed? Clearly the number of suicide victims found by rescuers should be a sufficient message that these establishments are needed and should be left alone.
“When humans asked what would be done with the rescued girls, the Others said the girls would be taken to safe, undisclosed locations,” Scratch continued. “Many of us are wondering tonight if these mentally fragile teenagers will ever be seen again.”