ELENA

Somebody is going to pay for this. I know Clay's body language better than anyone save perhaps Jeremy and right now it's screaming for almighty bloody vengeance. Under different circumstances I might be amused, but the problem is, he's got a point. Clay almost always goes the violent route, not because he enjoys it, but because it's effective and necessary.

It's not like he's a sadistic psychotic bastard, in fact I'm almost ninety percent certain that he gets little to no pleasure out of ripping mutts to shreds.

But the fact is that he has a point.

When it comes to threats concerning the Pack, his instinct tells him to strike, fast and clean. The real problem is the girl currently in our house, she's a threat and Clay is not above killing humans, not by a long shot. Just not for fun.

The fact that this girl seems to have a deathwish only makes it more confusing.

And she must be suicidal; nobody who has heard of Clay's reputation would just barge in here and threaten to kick his ass.

Repeatedly.

As in, more than once.

It just isn't done!

The other alternative, that she has no idea about his reputation is even more unbelievable, she knows we're werewolves; she didn't bat an eye when Jeremy said she wasn't entirely human and she's still smiling.

She must have heard of us!

Clearly she's insane.

The only thing we can do now is ascertain the extent of the damage, why she's here, what she wants, how she knows about us and what exactly she is. After that we can figure out where to bury her and how deep.

If only she wasn't so goddamned cheerful, it's starting to get really creepy!

After Jeremy shooed us all out of the kitchen, we made our way to the lounge and let the interrogation commence. The whole setting is so fucking ridiculous, Jeremy in his chair by the fireplace, Jaime pacing behind it, Clay and I sitting in the sofa chairs to his right and Faith meekly deposited on a loveseat facing us all.

All in all the entire set up is way too reminiscent of the exposition scene at the end of every Victorian crime novel I have ever read for me to be comfortable.

By the way Jaime is twitching, I'm guessing that I'm not the only one who expects Faith to jump up any second now, shouting "I conclude Vicar, it was Mrs. Peabody, with the pruning shears, in the Geranium room," before braining Jeremy with one of his prized Biedermeier Vases and jumping out of the window in a flurry of hysterical cackling.

So far however, there hasn't been any exposition or in fact GBH by priceless Porcelain, just much staring, and in Clay's case, growling.

It's got to be said for Faith, while the girl is clearly a complete basket case she is taking this all remarkably well.

Or maybe that's because she's mental.

Dismissing Clay's attitude by sticking her tongue out at him, she threw one of her legs over her chairs armrest the moment she sat down and now she's grinning at Jeremy.

"So whatdaya wanna know pops?"

She just called Jeremy pops. I wish Nick and Antonio were here, there's no way they're going to believe any of this when I tell them later.