Lili St Crow - Defiance

“Sucks.” She waited to see if I was going to say any more, and I was just about to panic when she changed the subject. “I figured you’d need a distraction today, and the boys were game.”

“Shanks and the others?” I perked up a little. That was about all the self-disclosure I could handle for a day, and she wouldn’t make a huge deal about it. “Are we going for a run?”

“Kind of. Don’t ask, it’s a surprise .”

I gave an eyeroll, relaxing my clenched fists inside my pockets. Took a breath. “Jesus, fine. As long as we eat sometime afterward. I’m starving.”

“For once. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you hitting the anorexia button. Bad for you. You need those calories for blooming, kiddo.”

If I could just bloom and get it over with instead of hanging on the edge, that’d be nice. I snorted. “Me and my lard, right?”

“Skinny chick. I wish I had your problems.”

No, you don’t, Nat. But she was trying to help. And when you’re a girl, you do that—say that you envy something about your friend. Build them up. It’s like the insults boys trade, a kind of friend-currency. “I wish I had some of your hips, girl.” Still, I meant it. She was curved in all the right places, and those catlike eyes were just deadly.

In more ways than one.

She grinned, finger-combing her perfectly sleek hair back. “I’ll donate some of my hip then. You can have some tit, too.”

“A tit transplant?” We both cracked up at that, and when she slid her arm through mine and pulled me down the stairs to the subway station I could feel the butt of a gun under her jacket, solid and reassuring. Goose bumps rose up all over me, but they faded by the time Nat swiped her MetroCard twice and we slid on through.

The north end of Central Park near the Pool was green and shaded. The group of about a dozen boys lounging around, a few of them monkeying up in any tree near enough that was big enough to climb, looked just like any other gang of toughs. One or two of them had hoodies, but most of them were just in T-shirts and jeans or khakis, boots and sneakers; the only thing giving them away was the fluid grace of wulfen. They move like they’re shouldering through tall grass, different than djamphir ’s eerie quickness. Sunlight coming through the leaves dappled them, and normal people’s eyes would just slide right over their essential difference .

People are goddamn geniuses at not seeing what they don’t want to see. It’s like the great human trait, along with fighting over abstract principles and craving junk food.

Shanks hauled himself up as soon as we got close. Next to him, shy blond Dibs slowly rose from his crouch, running a hand back through his golden hair. Alex and Gerry tipped us salutes and gave wide toothy grins. The others muttered greetings, or just nodded. The excitement was palpable, what Gran would’ve called the high fidgets, and it ran along my skin like electricity.

“Took you long enough.” Shanks jerked his head, flipping his emo-boy swoosh out of his dark eyes. I swear he has to buy his jeans in grasshopper size. Those legs are unreal . Plus his hands were a little big, and his feet, my God. He was like a puppy growing into its paws. A big, sarcastic puppy.

“You can just bite me,” Nat returned cheerfully, slipping her sunglasses off. “I’ll even mark the spot. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Our very own Dibsie.” Shanks’s grin stretched, if that were possible. He sized Nat up, dark eyes running appreciatively down her. “Mark that spot, Skyrunner. I’ll set my teeth.”

She waved her fingers, pale-blue polish glittering. “You wish , fleabag. Dibs, man, congrats.”

Dibs was scarlet by now. He looked down at his feet, muttering something, and the other wulfen clustered around us. I knew most of them—Shanks’s loose collection of friends and buddies, familiar faces.

Most of them had been there last night. But they didn’t treat me any differently. Bobby T. gave me a thumbs-up, rolling his shoulders under his leather jacket; on Nat’s other side slim dark Pablo crouched in an acid-green Lucky Charms T-shirt, the change rippling just under his skin. Gerry hopped on his toes once, twice, his brunet curls bouncing. They were all excited.

“All right, rules!” Shanks didn’t have to raise his voice. Everyone just went still and listened. As wulfen went, he was pretty dom. Dominant, that is. Alpha.

Kinky, Graves said way back in my head. I shook it away, and Nat glanced at me.

Shanks just plowed straight ahead. A flash of orange went through his eyes, and his skin rippled a little, like little mice under the surface. “No cabs, no buses. Straight-up run. Midpoint’s Coney and home base is back here, but no lying in wait.” This was directed at Alex, who shrugged and grinned, his hair standing up in wild vital springing curls. “Jumping’s legal, so’s using the crowd. Changeform’s only legal if it’s sub rosa. Got it?”

Which basically meant it was a pretty regular daylight run, nobody could hang around home base or midpoint waiting to jump Dibs, and we had to avoid being so weird it would make a commotion. My heart leapt, pulse settling into a high gallop. A disbelieving smile cracked my face. “We’re playing rabbit?”

“Toldja it was a surprise.” Nat bumped me with her hip. At least she didn’t get all weird about touching me. Maybe it was okay for female wulfen, I dunno. Or maybe it was how I smelled that turned the boys off. Now that I was, um, fertile. And getting so close to blooming.

I almost hopped up and down like Gerry. I’d heard about chase-the-rabbit—one wulfen bolts and the others give a head start, then the hunt’s on. It teaches the pursuers cooperation and tracking, and teaches the rabbit how to slip free of pursuit.

Plus, it’s just plain fun . And this was the first time I’d ever been invited. They took me along on other runs, but playing rabbit meant I could keep up.

It meant I was part of the group. My heart just about swelled up like a balloon, and I looked down at my boot toes. I didn’t want anyone to see my big stupid grin.

“Prize?” Alex piped up. “Come on, can’t have rabbit without a prize!”

“Catch him before he gets back home and we’ll do a flyby for pizza.” Shanks tilted his head slightly. “Catch him before Coney, and we’ll get beer with it.”

I made a face. So did Nat. But the guys all rumbled their approval.

“How much time do I get?” Dibs was calming down, even though I could hear his pulse thundering, and little ripples raced through his skin. The Other was turning briefly inside him, making his eyes glow too. It’s the thing inside them wulfen can tap for the changeform, the thing that has a line right down into the heart of a hunting beast.

It didn’t scare me. I had so much else to be scared of nowadays that wulfen were looking pretty damn safe. Plus, I trusted them.

I trusted them all.

Shanks punched Dibs on the shoulder, but very lightly. “You’ve already wasted half of it, Dibsie. Get going.”

Dibs stood there for a few seconds. A slow, very sweet grin lit up his entire face, and I blinked. In that one second, shy, blushing Dibs looked . . . well, almost handsome.

Then he turned on his heel and was gone, skirting the edge of the pool and vanishing into leafshade and sunshine. His hair blazed for a moment, but then branches moved to hide that gleam.

Shanks glanced at me. The orange in his irises fought with the fluid leaf-shadows. “Keep up, Dru-girl.”

I snorted. “You haven’t lost me yet, Robert .” It was what Christophe called him, just like he called Dibs Samuel all the time.