Chase was a problem.

It was hard for me to imagine the kid as really part of this tear-em-up Children of the Moon culture—how could he possibly go out at night eating people and come back looking so pure? I hated to think it, but maybe it was all part of an act. Because I knew he wasn't pure. Chase had killed Emily Young.

I was about ninety percent sure of this. I had seen him last with her—I had seen him fighting with her, I had just—not really thought it was a big deal. I was trying not to think about that, in perspective of me leaving her alone and all, but the fact was there had only been about five people in the building and four of them had been very busy. Chase had killed Emily.

Okay, so it wouldn't have held up in court. Maybe it would if I submitted as evidence the way he looked this morning—polaroids of him looking guilty, shifty, shuffling his feet on the ground and pulling his shirtsleeves over his hands. This guy was wearing regret like a bad hangover, black and bruised with it. He did not ever look at Emily—skirted around her body with fifteen feet to spare.

It was hard to be sure, though, because the atmosphere was so strange today—the kind of humming tension that came with an uncomfortable wait. Violence held in suspension—everyone frozen in the act of jumping for each others' throats. In fact, one of the only good parts about this—challenge thing was that everyone else had to stay out of it. They got to be the circled warriors around the duel, watching for the outcome—they did not get to influence it in any way, didn't get to kill anyone involved. Good thing, because at the moment basically everyone wanted to kill everyone else.

If anyone was unafraid of crossing enemy lines, though, it was Ryan. "Leah," he said, sliding into the seat next to me. "You look absolutely beautiful this morning. Green is really your color."

"Oh, stop," I said tonelessly. "You're making me blush."

"You didn't think I'd forgotten about you, did you?"

"One can hope," I grumbled. "Listen, Ryan, considering our packs are embroiled in a bloody Shakespearean feud, don't you think you might want to save the romance for later?"

"You aren't a part of that," he said breezily. "You're my mate."

I banged my head on the table. "Ryan," I said, words muffled by the wood. "You are impossible."

"Just think, Leah," he gushed. "The first werewolf children in the history of the world! A hybrid between our species! Aren't you excited to be a part of that?"

"I can't believe I'm even speaking this sentence," I fumed, "but I am not having your babies."

"Wow," Spencer said, sliding in on my other side. "Sounds like it's really picking up between you two lovebirds."

"Shut up," I said.

"Darling, I couldn't agree more," Ryan said coolly. "Chase! Get him out of my sight."

Chase jumped at the sound of his name but hurried over, grabbing Spencer's arm, but Spencer already had one broken bone, thanks, and I didn't like the idea of him acquiring any more. I stood and put my hands flat on Chase's chest and shoved him away—straight into the bar, his arms and back falling against Emily's body. Sam sat up at once, snarling from the back of his throat, but he didn't need to worry—Chase had already jumped away like he was on pins, disproportionate hysterical reaction so over-the-top that Sam looked at him funny. Trying to figure out why—and Lord, I hoped he didn't. Was it wrong that I still sort of liked Chase?

"Would you mind maybe watching it?" Sam said, his voice still down in the growl register. "That's my wife."

"Calm down, Sam," I snapped—trying to take the attention away from both Chase and Emily. "It's not like he lit her on fire or anything."

He looked surprised, then confused, then thoughtful, all in quick succession. "Did you used to be so sarcastic?" he asked me—not mean, just curious.

"Honestly?" I said. "No."

I should have been alarmed that he'd just barely noticed my defining characteristic, but it made sense. For two years I had been nothing more to him than a vague Leah-shaped blur in the corners of his eyes. He had known me when I was sweet and pleasant and good—Emily 1.0. I was not that anymore.

"I happen to like your sarcasm," Spencer said glibly. "Just for the record."

"Wait a second, I was just saying—" Sam started, exasperated.

"Can't take it back now," Spencer cut him off. "You said it and you meant it."

There were so many things to ignite—there were so many elements here and so many of them were dangerous. It was like trying to seat a wedding party only if you got it wrong, your guests were going to kill each other. Really, what should have happened is that everyone should have been staying apart—Spencer, Sam, Ryan, Chase, they should have all been in different rooms, if not different continents. The problem was, they all seemed to just want to be wherever I was. I was thinking maybe perhaps I should hide again. We just needed another few hours. Jacob and Ryan would fight. I would make my decision. We just needed to make it tonight without incident, and then everything would be fine.

Of course, since things hadn't exploded yet, it was time for another match to get thrown on. As Spencer and Sam glared at each other across the room, Jacob sat down across from us and distracted us all. Because Ryan immediately coiled like he might be ready to pounce, his hands gripping tighter on the armrests of his chair. Chase tensed to match him and every werewolf in the place sat up, suddenly alert to the presence of Public Enemy No. 1.

"Morning, guys," he said briskly, seemingly unaware of the sudden attention. "Wow, what a night! I don't suppose I could get a cup of coffee?"

Spencer got up wordlessly and headed for the bar, walking wide around Sam and Emily, doing us all a favor. We really shouldn't be getting in brawls before our big, important scheduled brawl. But hey, that was what Jacob was here to talk about. "So," he said, plopping his hands down on the table. "Let's talk shop."

"Yes," Ryan said, switching over suddenly to razor-sharp, clinical cool. He had a truly incredible focus, a needle point of it, but it came at the expense of everything else. He said he loved, me but the instant Jacob showed up he was not paying any attention to me anymore, I was invisible. Ryan had things to do. Good thing I didn't actually want to date him, or this would have been a problem. "Let's."

"I'm thinking specifics," Jacob said briskly. Like it was a business meeting and they were going to pull out spreadsheets and itineraries any moment now. "Most importantly, are we going to do this as wolves or as humans?"

"Jacob's stronger as a human," I pointed out. I knew Ryan would never admit it, so I was just going to help them get it out there. It was just a genetic thing—we were more wolf when we were human than they were—our bodies had changed when we had become werewolves, theirs hadn't.

Ryan's gaze flicked to me, sharply, like he hadn't quite remembered that I was there. What a sweetheart. "Leah, do you think you could give us a moment?"

Oh, he did not just say that. He did not just dismiss me like some kind of trophy wife, like some kind of bimbo who couldn't handle the serious conversations. He did not just do that. "Fine," I spat, standing up quick enough to knock my chair over backward. I was pissed and I didn't want to screw things up, but I was going to have a tantrum and they were going to know it. "You want a moment? Sure! Take as long as you want."

I stalked over to the bar straight toward Chase, causing him to practically dive out of the way as he saw me coming and saw the expression on my face. "Yeah, that's right," I snapped at him. "Move. You shouldn't be here by the body anyway."

"Why shouldn't he be by the body?" Sam asked instantly. Whoops. Should have known he'd pick up on it, he was all tenterhooks this morning. The shock starting to wear off. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"I didn't—" Chase said at the same time.

"Didn't what?" Sam latched onto the guilt in Chase's voice, ignoring me, everyone was ignoring me today. He started coming out from behind the bar, moving toward Chase with his shoulders thrust forward.

"Sam, it's nothing!" I lied my head off. Must distract him, must defuse this. "Come here, I want to talk to you. Come here, Sam!"

He did not come here. I tell you, between him and Ryan—if they wanted to be with me they were going to have to listen to me. They were not listening. They were looking straight through me to the people behind me. "Do you know something about Emily?" he demanded, backing Chase up into the wall. "Do you know about how she died?"

"What do you mean, uncivilized?" Ryan's voice broke in from behind us, loud and heated. "You do not tell us about uncivilized, you are American!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Jacob yelled back. Out of control, out of control. It was so close to explosion and I felt like standing on the table and screaming for it to stop. Because that would really help.

Chase was seconds away from dropping to the floor and putting his arms over his head to protect himself, couldn't look Sam in the eyes could not fight back against accusations that were probably technically true. "Did you kill her?" Sam was yelling now, starting to figure it out. Never would have known if we had all just been able to keep it together, but too late. It was flying apart, shrapnel every which way. "Huh? Is that it? Did you kill Emily?"

"You want to be Alpha to a pack that you have decimated?" Ryan yelled over top of him. "You think they're going to accept you?"

"They'll accept whoever is strongest!" Jacob yelled back.

"Did you kill Emily?" Sam demanded, shoving Chase back into the wall.

"Yes!"