Gusts of wind blew a crumpled, yellowing newspaper down an empty street. Liam, Finn and Jose strode past the shells of burned-out buildings, lost in a fire a dozen years ago, and followed the sounds of deranged howls coming from the tree line. There was a wolf shifter there who’d been living in the woods by himself, and of course he’d gone feral. He’d attacked several people already and then fled into the woods; it was time to put him down. Finn was in a foul mood. He was trying to keep his distance from Flora, working on the opposite side of the club from her, keeping his conversations with her short and polite and noncommittal. It wasn’t working. His need for her burned through his veins like fire, distracting him, needling him like a thorn. He’d be standing in the bar watching her clean tables and just a glimpse of her sweet smile, the musical tinkle of her laugh, would make his heart race faster. And then he’d see Jennifer looking at him with that expression of haunted sorrow on her face, and it would fill him with shame.
