Page 145 of Junk Magic

I nodded. We’d caught up, briefly, while everybody loaded into the vehicles, although there were a lot of pieces yet to be filled in. However, I’d given him and Caleb the basics, Caleb for his report and Cyrus . . .

Because Danny had been one of his. Maybe it had all been for show, to keep close to the boys he was cultivating, I didn’t know. Or maybe he’d had some feeling for the one man who had actually cared. I thought I’d seen a glimpse of that, a time or two.

But either way, it hadn’t been a show for Cyrus, and that made three boys he’d lost in less than a week: Jayden, Colin and Danny.

It was in his voice when he spoke again, the loss, the grief, and the despair that everything he’d tried hadn’t been enough. “He was wrong in what he did,” he told me. “But not in what he said. We do need change—and now, not whenever the war ends. There will always be another war, another problem, another reason to keep things the way they are. There will never be a perfect time to act.

“So, we don’t wait for the perfect time.”

“Meaning?” I asked.

“There are a lot of vargulfs. Some deserve it, many don’t, but either way, their clans don’t want them back. But leaving them on their own . . .” he shook his head. “Weres don’t do well on their own. They attack someone and the Corps takes them out; they kill themselves out of loneliness or desperation; or they’re preyed upon by others. There are a thousand stories but they almost always end the same way.

“But what if they didn’t have to?”

“It’s the way it’s always been,” I pointed out.

“But not the way is has to be! I asked Sebastian, what if we could establish clans for the outcastes? Places they could go where they’d be welcomed, where they could belong again. Where they could have a name, have brothers and sisters who cared for them? If they get thrown out again, if they can’t learn to live in peace with others, then so be it. They’re on their own. But a second chance—it’s all some of them need. It’s all any of my boys needed, and most of them I think will make it in the end.”

I thought back to what Danny had said, about how it was three outcasts who had come after me, who had insisted on saving me, and for what? Because I made them dinner? Because I talked to them like people for once? It didn’t seem like much, but it had meant enough for them to spare my life.

“How would it work?” I asked.

“We’re still ironing out the details, but there will be a number of second chance clans established, in all quarters of the Were world. There’s even going to be one here in Vegas,” he said, and then let it trail off, before looking at me hopefully.

“You’re not going back to Arnou, are you?” I asked evenly.

He shook his head.

“Are you sure? You bled for it. You risked your life for it—”

“And I love my old clan. I always will. But . . . it doesn’t need me. They do.”

“And you want me to come with you?”

A dark eyebrow raised. “It wouldn’t be a clan without a Lupa.”

Three clans in a lifetime, I thought. It wasn’t unknown, but it was unusual. Still . . .

“Sounds intriguing,” I said, and Cyrus grinned.

“Don’t promise too soon,” Caleb said. Glancing back at me. “You got a lot on your plate.”

“Like what?”

“Like whatever Hargroves is going on about. He received a proposal from Sebastian about making a joint Were/mage force to fill out our numbers, and also to investigate Were crimes. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Yeah, I thought. From Sienna. It looked like she’d been busy.

“It might be nice to have some extra hands on board,” I said mildly.

Caleb shot me another look. “It might. Might be kind of wild, too.”

That, I thought I could guarantee.

“What about us?” Someone blurted out.

I turned around to notice that all of the kids were looking a little lost, suddenly. Even Sophie had gone quiet, and was staring down at her hands. But not Jen.

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