Word travels like fire inside the pack. Within the hour, six of us sat around a circular table in the back room of the Wayfarer restaurant. Ink had Shifted back to human form; Macbeth had changed into a fresh and crisply ironed shirt. River was playing with empty bullet casings, rolling them around her fingertips in a motion halfway between juggling and twirling a baton. That just left Aly—who was sitting perfectly still, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the base of her neck and her hazel eyes unreadable—and River’s dad, who was probably the only person at this table who had any personal experience in either Senate politics or tracking down Rabids.
“Here’s what you need to know.”
I laid the facts out for the others quickly and efficiently. I didn’t stumble over Maddy’s name, didn
