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banned. Although he was only a few years older than her own twenty-six, Carl had grown up in a different world. No wonder he was inspired to find a cure and return to what he saw as real life.
* * * *
    She thought she had things under control until the band slowed it down.
    She and Carl had finished eating some time earlier and she wasn't surprised when many of the diners stood and moved to the dance floor. She was surprised when Carl got up and offered her his arm.
    "Is it time to go?” A part of her had wanted to continue the evening, wallow in the pretense that she was just an ordinary woman living in a time before the zone.
    He shook his head. “I haven't heard music like this since college. I'd love a dance."
    She swung into his arms hesitantly, almost awkwardly. “You'll have to show me how,” she admitted.
    "You don't dance? How can anyone go through life without dancing?"
    Maybe if her mother had lived a little longer, Danielle would have been able to have an ordinary childhood and learned ordinary girly things like dancing and makeup. Instead she'd been sent to one of the countless orphanages that had sprung up after the return of magic had torn apart so many families. She'd learned how to fight, but she hadn't learned how to dance.
    "Not all of us were born with silver spoons in our mouths."
    Carl shook his head. “I hope you're not talking about me. I already told you I needed a scholarship to go to college. My parents were dirt-poor."
    At least he'd had living parents. Danielle wasn't especially sympathetic.
    "A jock like you should have no problems picking it up,” he told her when it became obvious she didn't intend to answer. “Come on, you'll have fun."
    Fun with an impaired? She didn't think so. But everyone else was up and dancing and she didn't figure it could hurt.
    "All right."
    Three minutes later, she wondered why she hadn't learned this stuff years earlier. The band had switched to something Carl called Big Band, and she got to kick up her heels.
    "You're leading,” he complained.
    "Your point?"
    "The guy is supposed to lead."
    "New times make for new rules.” Admittedly the government was big into pushing traditional values, but there was no way Danielle was going to let anyone, let alone a werewolf, control where she went.
    On the other hand, being in charge was more fun that she would have guessed. And Carl's muscles felt pretty good when she used his strength to launch herself into the air.
    Danielle handed the parking receipt to the parking attendant, who jogged off, leaving them alone in front of the restaurant.
    Or were they alone?
    She didn't see anything, but a warder learns to trust her instincts.
    "What?"
    "Something doesn't seem right.” She had her leash, but she'd left her heavier weapons locked in the car. At the time, that had seemed safer. Now, she wondered.
    Carl sniffed at the air, his nose raised like a wolf's. “Something's about to—"
    "Ever had any impaired ass?” The door to a parked white van swung open and four young men—normal humans from what he could tell—clambered out. The speaker, a bald man with a beer belly, was probably a normal, but he could have passed for a troll with his size and aggressive attitude.
    "Can't get enough,” a second tough answered. His laughter was cruel and crude.
    The group of normals she'd barely noticed when they'd been in the club stepped out behind Carl and her. On cue, she realized. This whole thing was staged. And now eight men surrounded them.
    "It seems a shame to waste a piece like that on a dog like this.” One of the men from the club pulled a heavy automatic from his belt and pointed it casually in Carl's direction.
    "You, scat. And leave the female."
    "I don't think—"
    "That's right, you don't think. You're an animal and I've got a gun loaded with silver bullets. Time to run away. Or die.” He laughed shortly. “I guess I'd just as soon you stay. I can buy more bullets."

Chapter 3
    Danielle had seen the punks