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this.”
    She tipped her fingers to indicate Edmond behind her. “You could still walk away. My father was the wandering type, and my mother died just after my Lady ceremony. My brother and I were raised by the pack. It’s a loving way to grow up.”
    Susan swallowed convulsively. However strong her burst of fear had been, her anger now was stronger. No way in hell would she ever abandon Edmond, no matter what happened, no matter the part of her that whispered that he’d grow up to be one of the killers himself. All the more reason why he needed his mother to steer him away from that. “You think I’d up and leave my son? Are you insane?”
    The corner of Silver’s lips twitched up. “Yes. But not in this case. I just wanted you to know your options. It wouldn’t scar him, if that’s what you need to do.” She stepped away from the crib, and Susan darted in to pick up her son, asleep or not. She cradled him against her and he murmured sleepily.
    “Relax. I’m not saying you should, just that you can. In your place, I wouldn’t leave.” Silver looked at the back of Edmond’s head, and Susan recognized the expression. It was the ticking biological clock look. She’d seen it on plenty of her coworkers. But this was the most naked, longing form she’d ever seen.
    Susan heard footsteps in the hall. The lingering wash of adrenaline from what Silver had said made her wonder whether John was walking heavily on purpose, to make her feel better, to make him seem less of a predator. He looked in the door. “Susan?”
    “I’m going,” Susan snapped, and tried to put Edmond back down. Now fully awake, he clung on and started to cry. Susan took a deep breath, trying to draw in patience, and handed him to his father. Holding her coat to her like a shield, she pushed by John before he could say anything else. Maybe it was good that she’d have some time to think.

 
    5
     
    Andrew nursed a beer at the dark wood dining table while he waited for Michelle to arrive. He mostly managed not to listen to Susan’s argument with John, though he could hear it perfectly. Her conversation with Silver upstairs was much easier not to hear. Eventually, she thumped down the stairs and out to her car, leaving behind a tendril of sweaty fear that twisted into his nose. What had Silver said to her? Andrew considered staying out of it, but John would be pissed, and Andrew needed John’s undistracted help as well as Silver’s when Michelle got there.
    The baby wailed in earnest, almost covering the sound of Susan’s car pulling away, as Andrew reached the head of the stairs. He followed the wail to the nursery. John bounced his son desperately, talking to him, while Silver watched longingly. After a few moments, she made an exasperated noise and smiled at the boy. After a suspicious look, he stopped crying, though he didn’t quite smile back.
    “I have to go get ready for Michelle,” John muttered in frustration, and Silver held out her arm. When John opened his mouth to object, Andrew coughed. The man was holding the boy mostly with one arm himself. If he thought Silver wasn’t well practiced in doing things one-handed, he hadn’t been paying attention. John shot Andrew a glare, but after another moment’s dithering, he helped Silver settle the baby against her shoulder and clumped down the stairs.
    “Edmond,” Silver introduced the boy, clearly quite proud of remembering the name.
    Andrew came closer and gave the boy a quick smile too. Curiosity about the new people and situation had overcome his crying and he focused on Andrew. “Woof,” he said, solemnly.
    “I am,” Andrew agreed. He put out his hand as if to shake, one finger extended. Edmond grabbed on. It wasn’t quite the tiny grip, it wasn’t quite the familiar mangling of “wolf,” but some combination of everything brought his daughter to mind. He jerked his hand away. She was a teenager by now, he reminded himself. A teenager raised by his in-laws, who’d