It was getting close to eight by the time I worked up the courage to ask Misha to borrow his truck, having run through my personal script a hundred times in my head. Sat in the living room, watching tv in awkward silence with Knives and his phone on his chest. Neither of them even seemed to notice me until I was halfway in the room, where I leaned on the door frame for a moment.

  Both werewolves looked up to me for a brief moment, before returning to their show without much care. I took the chance to compose myself and ask, “Hey, Misha, do you mind if I borrow your truck? Vergil was having a card game and I got invited to play at the last minute.”

  “Oh yeah, sure,” the man muttered, half-sitting up and pulling his keys from his pocket to hold them out, “You think you’ll be back tonight? No plans on my part, just have to ask.”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, before lying in the same breath, “I’ll probably crash in the guest room if I end up being out too late. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem, The Lady seems pretty happy with you and what we said about the murder so I don’t think we’re getting any surprise calls or check ins,” Misha admitted, even as I took the keys and nervously turned them over in my fingers. “Honestly, perfect timing, your updated identities came in, they’re in an envelope by the door. I don’t know why she bothered making them, you’ll be able to use ones with your real age soon, but I guess she puts them out in batches.”

  “I’ll grab them,” I said, walking out of the room even as I noticed Knives giving me a strange look.

  I tried to ignore it, and was halfway to Misha’s truck when I heard the home door open behind me and Knives started to walk toward me. The smell of sandalwood and oil filled my nose, and I was tempted to try and run before deciding it would look bad for me. Instead I stood by the truck, pausing naturally as possible with the door half-opened as I watched them finish their march.

  “You’re not actually going to a poker game are you?” Knives asked, raising a brow as they looked me over.

  “I am,” I lied, furrowing my brow as I tried to figure out how they could tell. “You can call and ask if you don’t believe me.”

  “Look, I know Vergil runs a weekly poker game,” Knives admitted, tilting their head at the thought, “I just didn’t think you’d be joining his Saturday night strip poker game.”

  “I heard it was fun,” I said hesitantly, not sure what else I was supposed to say. Honestly I didn’t even know he actually ran a game, or what the rules of that variation were, but I couldn’t be called out now.

  “Do you know how to play strip poker?”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  “Mary he doesn’t run a Saturday poker game,” Knives called me out, half laughing as they rubbed their forehead. “And if I know that, Misha should, so I don’t know if he’s in on something or he’s too trusting, but…Look, I just…I don’t want you getting in trouble, and I wanted to make sure you were being safe instead of just running off."

  I really needed to learn how to fucking lie, and I sighed as I looked down at the ground and instead like an idiot told the truth, “I’m meeting up with someone I used to know. I’m not leaving the Covenant, it’s not a fucking betrayal or anything. I’m just…catching up on old times, it’s just dinner with a friend.”

  “One you might not get back from until tomorrow?” Knives questioned.

  “I’ll probably be back,” I said, frowning as I looked down, “just…if it gets late I might genuinely stay at Vergils. I have a feeling this will take a lot out of me, and I already feel bad enough having lied to Misha, so...”

  Knives nodded, and slowly the werewolf stepped forward, resting a hand on my shoulder as they sighed and told me, “just, don’t get hurt and don’t do anything you’ll regret. If you need help, rather you ask than do something stupid.”

  “I promise I won’t,” I said, giving a small nod as I climbed into the truck, not sure why they were trying to help me. I was a former Purist and we’d barely even talked, “It’s just going to be a small talk, nothing more.”

  Knives nodded, and the werewolf stepped away and walked toward the garage without another word. I watched after them for a long moment, before opening the envelope I’d grabbed and looking quickly through the contents.

  Inside was a drivers license I knew The Lady would have pulled some strings for me to get and a student ID for the local community college. My name, Mary Diana Jameson, was proudly displayed on both, alongside a picture of me, and I smiled at it as I stuffed the cards in my pocket.

  I’d needed to choose a new name when I’d left the Purists, Bloodhound wasn’t exactly half-one and I hadn’t known I was trans before the wolf was awakened. Mary and Diana were fresh picks I’d taken after a week of thought, and I’d ended up just reusing my old last name. My dad was still alive, at least last I’d heard anything about him, and while I was sure some in the supernatural community knew him I doubted anyone would connect the dots on last name alone.

  A few minutes later I was driving the Virginia backroads, awkwardly trying to make a call on my phone while keeping my eyes on the night time streets. I was on a more rural road, which was good for me, and there weren’t many people around which made things more relaxing. I barely knew how to drive, having never had a chance to learn before becoming a werewolf. Hunter had always driven us everywhere we needed to go in the Purists, and while Misha gave me twice weekly lessons for two months I was still a newer driver. The only reason I was allowed on the streets was that a fake drivers license was as hard to get as a fake learner’s, and helped me in more situations.

  Eventually I managed to scroll through and click the correct contact, and I set my phone on the dashboard in speaker mode as it rang. A few seconds later, Vergil’s voice coming over as he answered, “Mary Cherry, very merry to hear from you.”

  I sighed at the rhyme, and rubbed my temple a moment as I asked him, “hey, is Calliope there? I need to talk to her about something.”

  “Um, yeah, she’s a little busy right now,” the man muttered, giving a small chuckle, “is it an emergency? I can take a message.”

  “That’s fine,” I muttered, trying to think of how to word this in the least suspicious way. “Can you cover for me tonight? Just, if Misha or anyone calls about me, tell them I’m there. You can say I’m letting Calliope borrow my body or something so I can’t talk, I just need to be covered for a few hours at least.”

  “Yeah, not a problem, I’ll let her know,” Vergil said, before finishing off with a quick, “I need to go, talk to you later,” as he hung up.

  I sighed, hoping he’d follow through on his promise as I went back to focusing on the road, trying to finish the trip to The Diner a long ways away.

  The Diner was one of the few simple pleasures Virginia had that hadn’t been touched in over a half a century. Without a real name or branding, and its sign long ago faded and broken beyond the ability to read, you would have thought it abandoned from the outside if not for the lights and few cars parked outside. Even the inside wasn’t much better, looking like something out of the old Archie comics I’d once found in some house’s attic.

  Black and white tile floors that somehow still shined, steel tables that creaked every time they moved, cushioned seats patched a hundred times, and Amanda at the counter always looking out of her own time. It was small, homely, and an hour from Richmond in a direction that made it not near anything.

  All that said, it had the best burgers and fries I ever had and was cheap enough that me and my pack could always buy dinner if we were passing by.

  I arrived five minutes before nine, parking out of the way in a dark corner and checking if there were any signs of Hunter as I sat back in my seat and thought for a long moment. Chances were I could have waited for him, and he would have shown up, but a part of me was scared he wouldn’t. A part was afraid he was mad at me, that me taking off the bracelet earlier would have made him want to avoid me entirely, remind him of what happened last time.

  I sighed, and slowly I pulled my Mate Bracelet from my pocket, and clicked it around my left wrist. The feeling of Hunter’s mind once more joined my own, closer this time, and I could almost get a reading of what he was thinking without him needing to concentrate. He was nervous, his thoughts running a million miles an hour, and he barely even noticed my mind joining his own.

  I liked it that way, and didn’t remove the bracelet or try to bother him as I climbed out of the truck and walked to the door. From the sound of things he was close, if not just a few minutes behind me, and I wanted to be ready for him. I was about to step inside when the brief thought of looking ready came to me, and I slowly pulled my locket from my pocket as well and clipped it around my neck, the familiar weight a comforting reminder of old times.

  With a few remaining doubts dispelled and my courage gathered, I went into the small restaurant that still smelled vaguely of smoke years after it’d been banned inside and music played deafeningly loud. Amanda sat behind the counter, next to a radio blaring some rock station as she kept her nose buried in a book. She was a tall woman, wearing a stereotypical diner uniform in blue and white that was cut low, showing off a rose tattoo that trailed past the hem, and with her long blonde hair pulled in a ponytail. The bell on the door ringing didn’t even make a sound for me over the music, and it wasn’t until I was at the counter that she noticed me.

  “Oh! Hey, Bee,” the woman said, still using the name I’d given her back when I had been just Bloodhound, her smile surprisingly broad at the sight of me, “you and Hunter again finally? How long has it been now? A few times I’ve seen that boy he’s refused to tell me anything about you!”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while, but he should be here soon. We just had a um…we had a break,” I said over the music, taking a glance back through the glass door hoping to see him, “mind prepping us the usual? I’m sure his order hasn’t changed that much.”

  “Two rare burgers, fries, a chocolate and a strawberry milkshake,” Amanda confirmed, merely writing “Lovebird Special” on her ticket as she walked to the kitchen window and hung it up.

  I smiled slightly at the sight, questioning the choice of name for it even as I walked to the seat Hunter and I always chose. Near the jukebox that hadn’t worked since cassettes came out, it was far away from the kitchen and bathroom doors, the jukebox half hid us, and people tended to not sit near there. Even now the only people in the diner, an elderly couple and a couple truckers, all sat on the other side of the room closer to the AC.

  It was honestly perfect for a secret meeting, and as loud as Amanda played her music we’d be able to talk as much as we needed.

  I didn’t need to wait long for Hunter, and eventually my ex walked in dressed as always, carrying something in his hands. Not a tall man, he stood a little taller than half a foot shorter than me, though kept weight on easier than me and kept himself well groomed for a Purist. He kept his light brown hair cut short, roughly done by scissors as I used to do it for him, and his face hadn't been shaved for at least a week though was devoid of dirt. He wore the same worn and torn jeans, flannel, and faded cowboy boots he had when I left, and over it wore a brown leather jacket I’d stolen for him to match my own.

  The man gave a small smile to Amanda, tilting his black cowboy hat with all its damage in greeting, and briefly shared a few brief words with her. He thought she was attractive, for a half-one, and his thoughts briefly turned to an image of imagining where her tattoo went. Though, I could only really tell they were his thoughts since he was the only one who could see the tattoo and I had no physical interest in half-ones, this close our thoughts were too melded.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  After several seconds he walked over to me as I realized the item in his hand was a blue pot with a few purple tulips growing out of it. He slid onto the bench across from me in the booth, and held the pot in his lap a moment as he looked down at the flowers in a silence that was a chaos of thoughts.

  “I got you flowers,” he said awkwardly, sitting the pot between us and sliding it over. “I saw them and thought of you.”

  I smiled slightly at the words, pulling the pot over to me and looking over it with glee until I saw the side. Among a few painted clouds, a red house, a cute sun with a smiley, and a few stick figures were several large bubble letters.

  “World’s best mom, from Billy,” I said, holding back a laugh as I read the words aloud and looked up to Hunter as he looked back to the table. One mind briefly worried he’d killed them, and the other reacted in shock.

  “I didn’t kill them,” he offered, half hiding a smile at the comment, “just knew you liked tulips, and it made me think of you.”

  I nodded, giggling despite myself as I pushed the pot aside and hid the writing on it from view. Honestly, it was nice knowing that Hunter was still acting the exact same way as always all things considered. It’d been too long since someone had done something like that for me, and having that from him was more than good.

  “You’ll need to take them back,” I told him, the smile not breaking for me. As much as I wanted to keep it? Fuck, my room needed some life to it and I couldn’t believe I was just realizing it. “No offense, just not the sort of thing I should be displaying in my room. It might raise a few questions.”

  Hunter nodded, giving a small smile as he looked up at me and sat back in his seat with a low chuckle, “look who’s the regular goody two shoes, never thought I’d see the day. You even smell like them too now, you know?

  “It’s working out,” I said, shrugging at the implication, “they keep me busy. Not that fun when you’re just doing it to survive, but they treat me…they treat me well enough. I told you I have a room of my own now right?”

  “It looks nice,” Hunter agreed, chuckling as we thought of it more. “Your cat really act like that?”

  “Gods of Wolves, you don’t know the half of it,” I chuckled, thoughts of Lord’s actions coming through our mind and mixing with disgust, humor, and confusion all in one.

  “That cat’s not right,” Hunter chuckled in half-held disgust, shaking his head, “well, as long as you don’t date him.”

  “Gods no, don’t be disgusting,” I muttered, laughing at the warmth in my chest that had started to grow. “Yeah, they have me on a short leash right now at the Covenant, so it’s a little rough. I technically needed to sneak out for this.”

  “Well, nothing you’re not used to,” the man pointed out, accompanying it with some mental images to make my face flush as I looked away from him and he chuckled more. “You blush more than I remember.”

  “It’s been a long fucking year,” I sighed, shaking my head as I let out a small laugh at the idea. “Let’s see, ten months since I left? I think I’ve been forced to investigate six supernatural murders, had to kill two vampires, threaten a witch over penis enlargement potions, and help my mentor beat a couple fey at some sci-fi board game that took us twelve hours to play to save a child’s life, and no one wants to be my friend except for that new mentor. I haven’t exactly been able to relax or get even a one nighter in since I left.”

  Hunter nodded, and we fell into a brief silence as we stared at one another in silent contemplation. I fucking missed him, I wanted to pull him close, kiss him, feel like I was fucking wanted by someone more than a cat. Gods, I was beautiful tonight. I almost looked like a tamed fucking dog. Clean clothes, clean hair, clean skin, only things on me that looked Purist were the tattoos I shyly hid and my locket.

  My locket?

  I’d left that behind when I’d left the Purists, it’d been in our bedroom.

  Our bedroom, lovely memories there.

  The locket, Bloodhound.

  I loved to hear him say Bloodhound.

  I loved to say Bloodhound.

  You go by Mary now.

  It’s complicated.

  The locket.

  Memories flashed through me, getting it so long ago, the blood I’d shed wearing it, the comfort it’d brought me, the mysterious messages. The threat. Remember your sin, fourteen midnights, the missing clip, blood on the metal.

  “You think Martin’s compromised?” Hunter asked, furrowing his brow as he leaned forward in a whisper.

  “I can’t be sure,” I admitted, looking down at the thought. With a small sigh, I took off the locket and passed it over to him, watching as the man clicked it open and looked into it as I explained. “I don’t think so, the message seemed more about me than him, but I think you should have Chaser check on his cover. Maybe see about having him hidden somewhere safer.”

  Two streams of thoughts tried not thinking about Martin, about Alpha, what we’d done and who we’d all hurt. That weekend, that horrible fucking weekend, and every thing we did to that fucker. It was too hard to think about, it was too painful.

  Slowly Hunter looked up to me, hesitantly asking, “You don’t think it’s Alpha do you? I mean, he’s-”

  “Dead,” I pointed out, “we made sure of that, and we have more things we’ve done wrong than that.”

  It was a name I’d briefly considered myself in terms of who it could be, but it also wasn’t one that was possible. The four of us made fucking sure the man was dead for everyone’s sake. We’d torn him apart, kept attacking until he stopped moving, Hunter and I had shared his heart. The last time anyone had seen Alpha, it was us tossing the shreds of his body down an abandoned mineshaft and spitting down after him.

  Hunter nodded, the fear of the vengeful dead apparently assuaged by the reassurance as he leaned heavily on his arm and stroked his chin. The man seemed lost in thought, unsure of himself as we went through a half hundred possibilities in our shared head. I couldn’t blame him, and I was sure I looked the exact same

  “I’ve been hearing some rumors,” he finally said, clasping his hands in thought, “some big shot werewolves came in from New York for the wedding, one of the older Purist groups on the coast. I haven’t met them or heard confirmation, but that’s the word among the older people in our network. Apparently no one expected them to actually come around, and some of the people were saying they were down here two months early, as sudden as this is, maybe that has something to do with it?”

  It wasn’t a lot, but it was the first real clue I’d had all day of something maybe being wrong, and the timeline could have worked out. I didn’t think I’d pissed off any living Purists too much, but fucks sake as little I had to go on it was something. Whoever was doing this was being too ambiguous, too unsure, and I needed to know why. At the very fucking least I was getting to say I’d not wasted my first midnight just eating ice cream in a fucking park. I could probably even ask around about the lead at the wedding.

  Gods, it was nice hearing each other's thoughts again.

  Wait, what fucking wedding?

  Hunter looked like he was ready to answer the thought when Amanda’s scent of grease, cheap cigarettes, and old books, and the smell of fresh cooked food grew strong and we both looked over to see the waitress with her tray. I caught something about our former packmates, but he was quickly distracted by the fucking half-one he always had an eye on.

  “Two rare burgers, two orders of fries, a chocolate and a strawberry milkshake,” the waitress declared, sitting our food in front of either of us and giving me the chocolate milkshake. “Anything else I can help you two to?”

  “Mind throwing me a couple burgers and some fries in a bag,” Hunter asked, already pulling out a roll of bills he’d wrapped in a rubber band and counting out a few twenties, the pack having never cared about giving out extra money, “Scout and W asked me to bring them something back, they’ve been busy planning their wedding. You can take your time on getting that order back there, we’ll probably be a bit. Keep the change.”

  “I’ll tell them to get it prepped,” Amanda smiled as she tucked the money in her apron, “tell them I said congratulations, they were just about as cute as you two recently.”

  The waitress gave another small giggle and left us, and I was left slightly confused as I looked over to Hunter with a furrowed brow. He looked at me a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond as he answered, “they were set up as mates a little after you left, Scout’s mentor was upset about her not gaining one even with just one unclaimed man in her pack and they requested each other to keep things simple. It went a little better than expected.”

  “I’ll say,” I admitted with a sad laugh. I’d been gone ten fucking months and I already was starting to have no idea what was going on in their lives. I knew Hunter and I hadn’t spoken since just after the trial, but he could have still found a way to tell me these things.

  You left them.

  “They still want you to be there,” he said, surprising me slightly as he looked out the window, “if you want. They’re not as mad about you leaving anymore, and we all just wanted to be able to have the pack together one more time.”

  I’d want that.

  “It’s Wednesday, if you think you can make it,” Hunter answered the thought, excitement filling out thoughts. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I kept not knowing how to talk about it or, well, to you. It’s casual, but a purist wedding so you know how it is, if you remember the one time.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I agreed, shaking my head in still disbelief at the thought. “It’ll be nice to see them again… I miss you guys a lot.”

  “You can always come back,” Hunter offered, making the hair on the back of my neck crawl as the wolf felt threatened by the words. He leaned forward, suddenly speaking in a whisper as he told me, “Hell, you want to make a show of it we can do it right now. Let the wolf out, unleash it here, have a nice meal. I remember how you used to get after our hunts.”

  I hated the thought of it, I’d gone almost a year without giving into that temptation and he was still offering it. I was living a good life, I was helping people, protecting supernaturals from being found out, pretending to be a human again. I hated the idea that he thought it was so easy to just give that up and go on a rampage in a diner.

  I loved the idea, we could hunt once more as a couple, we could kill and taste blood and flesh on our lips. We could tear apart flesh from blood, hear the cries of fear, the howls of agony. Amanda would fall easily, and maybe then Hunter wouldn’t be distracted. We could be mates once more.

  “I can’t,” I told him, shaking my head as I forced the idea out and tugged my father’s jacket close around me. “I’m trying to live like a human again. It’s…different, but I can get used to it. I’m sleeping in a bed, I’m making friends that aren’t werewolves, I’m taking regular showers. I…I’m getting used to it all, okay?” The words sounded right, and yet the thoughts clashed and fought as I realized some of it had to be Hunter’s. With a sigh, I quickly removed the mate bracelet from around my wrist and stuffed it back in my pocket. “Sorry, I can’t deal with that right now.”

  Hunter looked hurt by the gesture, and kept his head low as he hesitantly told me, “it’s fine, I shouldn’t have expected much.”

  We talked for a while longer, catching up on old times at first and eventually acting like our old selves again. Taking turns listening to the other talk about something that happened or something they enjoyed while the other ate their burger or dipped fries in their milkshake. The topics were a little different and more stilted, and everything was less certain, but it was the same in its own way.

  Eventually we finished and left The Diner, saying a last goodbye to Amanda as I walked with him to the rusted pickup truck on instinct. I was about to walk around to the passenger seat when I remembered the reality of the situation, and I instead walked with Hunter to the driver door and stopped there unsure of what to do now.

  “I almost forgot this,” the man said, sitting the potted tulips in his seat and turning back toward me holding up the locket. “Mind if I?”

  I nodded, holding my chin high as he stepped forward and reached up, creeping his hands slowly around my neck. My hair brushed away my gentle hands, he stepped closer than needed, and he looked up at me with a caring tenderness. Our warm breath mingled in the August air, his eyes bore up into me, and I felt my heart rushing at the feeling of someone so close. I froze at the realization, and looked down at him even as he clipped the locket in place and we remained like that for a long time.

  “You know, you do seem lonely, my little Bloodhound,” Hunter chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from my face and resting his fingers on my cheek there, “I know a pretty good place near here. Empty home, fully furnished while it’s on sale. We could make like old times and play house for the night.”

  Fuck, it was tempting, and I was about ready to kiss him and let Misha deal with his own fucking truck when my brain finally caught up with the rest of my body. Instead I slowly stepped back, shaking my head with a sigh as I answered, “I can’t. If I’m not back early tomorrow they’ll literally kill me, and that’s…that’s beside the point of how bad an idea that probably is.”

  Hunter nodded, frowning as he turned back to the truck and started to pull something from its bed. With a pained whisper, he told me, “it’s the life you’re choosing,” and turned back to pass me a large cardboard box.

  I took it, furrowing my brow in confusion until I finally looked down at the contents in front of me. Faded clothes, a few pieces of jewelry, several DVDs, and a few other items. All the things I’d left behind when I’d been taken prisoner by Misha, and left my pack.

  “Does this mean-?”

  “It just means I thought you should have your stuff,” Hunter interrupted, rubbing his growing beard as he climbed behind the wheel. “I just thought you should have it. Put on the bracelet again if you ever want to talk.”

  “Alright.”

  Hunter nodded, slowly starting up his truck and pausing for a long while as he struggled for something to say. After a while, finally whispering, “stay safe, Mary,” and started to drive off.

  I stood there in the parking lot for a long moment, not sure what to think even as I forced the energy to walk to Misha’s truck and sit the box in the passenger seat. Even as I got in the driver’s seat and started back toward the covenant I couldn’t find a thought that made anything make sense.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  It all made sense, and I knew exactly why he was doing it.

  It just didn’t make it feel better.

  Even I knew what getting a box of your stuff back meant.