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that he sold for a king’s ransom while keeping secret its origins. Spanish royalty and a few certain wealthy nobles flaunted elaborate court attire made of fabulous cloths that changed colors with liquid fluidity to match their surroundings.
    The secret of the chameleon extract was discovered in Orellana’s papers after his death, whereupon King Carlos I and his mother, the mentally unstable Queen Joanna, outlawed the wearing of chameleon-dyed clothes upon pain of death. The Spanish monarchy made a great play at being morally outraged, but the political reality was, whatever their real reaction might have been, they had to make some gesture of public repudiation or run the risk of being destroyed by the infuriated rulers of the Elder Races.
    However, rumors of the existence of such clothing had whispered through the succeeding centuries, in particular when connected to famous unsolved acts of theft. Whether those historical rumors were true or not, chameleon Wyr remained rare—Alice knew of only fifty or so currently living in the continental U.S.
    The critically low numbers of chameleon Wyr made the crimes that had been committed seven years ago even more terrible. A small colony of chameleon Wyr had lived in Jacksonville, Florida, where seven of them had been found murdered the week before that December’s Festival of the Masque. Despite a much-televised, nationwide manhunt by several cooperating agencies, the chameleon killer had never been caught.
    The silence was broken by the wind that drove ice shards against the building, like a nightmare tapping the windows with skeletal fingers, looking for a way in.
    Alice shuddered at the dark fancy and shoved it away. She was surrounded with light and warmth, about to be nourished with good food and drink, and she had been given the unforeseen gift of comfort and companionship during a time that would have been terrible to endure alone. She gave Gideon another apologetic glance and turned back to the open fridge to begin pulling things out at random. She said again, “We don’t like to talk about our Wyr nature to outsiders. Does this have anything to do with our history?”
    “You mean the conquistador massacre? We’ve found no evidence that links the present-day crimes to that.” Gideon straightened suddenly. “That’s how you hid from me, isn’t it? In Haley’s apartment. You changed into your Wyr form.”
    Alice looked over her shoulder at him, chagrined. “You knew I was there? You didn’t just identify me by my scent when I got to the street?”
    He corrected her, “I had the instinct you were there. I didn’t know for sure. I went across the street to the deli and watched the building entrance from there. Where were you hiding?”
    “Do you remember the braided ficus?”
    He gave her a blank look. “The what?”
    “The potted plant that sat on the floor in the corner of the front hallway and the living room.” She fluffed the curls at the back of her neck self-consciously. “I was hiding in the leaves.”
    A grin broke across his hard features. “Damn, you were right there. Well done. I remember brushing against that tree when I went into the living room. How big are you in your Wyr form?”
    She felt a ridiculous burst of pleasure from his praise. “I’m about the length of your forearm. Maybe smaller if I curl my tail up around my body.”
    “Is that why you have so many potted trees in your living room?” He regarded her with such pleasure that warmth touched her cheeks again.
    She nodded and confessed, “Sometimes I like to hang out in the trees while I watch TV.”
    He burst out laughing. “Of course, why not?” Startled, she felt even more self-conscious.   He told her, “Sometimes my wolf likes to hang out and chew on a bone. There are these really tasty beef-basted ones you can get at Wyr Foods.”
    She smiled. Wyr Foods was a specialty spin-off of the Whole Foods grocery chain. She shopped there, too. She looked at the items she had