What little time she’d spent at the park had been in the sprawling, open field known as Sheep’s Meadow and had always been during the day. It wasn’t that she had avoided Central Park because of its lingering reputation for being a haven of depravity, where one was as likely to be mugged or shot as looked at. Quite to the contrary, this part of New York was in no way the crime-ridden cesspool it had once been. Developers had been buying up the property around the park, building condos and lofts that sold for tens of millions of dollars. Between the gentrification and the combined efforts to discourage crime in the area courtesy of the NYPD and the Moonwalkers, a local werewolf pack that claimed Central Park as its territory, it was a great deal safer than it had been in the 80s and 90s. It was also a given that Others would be crossing through the park at any hour of the day. The Moonwalkers didn’t do a thing to police the foot traffic during the day, but they were a constant presence after the sun went down.
