Page 115 of The Evening Wolves

“Princesses!” Lana corrected him.

“When princesses call her name and distract her with treats.”

The girls dutifully jumped down from the couch and began calling Biscuit’s name, holding out broken pieces of potato chips. Biscuit lost interest in Shaw, who was red-faced and giggling now, and went over to the girls.

“But,” Tean said, his voice rising dramatically, “the rhincerwhompophant loves to charge at little princesses!”

Auggie made a roaring noise that also incorporated some elephant-like trumpeting. He pretended to paw the ground, and then he charged, lightly headbutting first Lana and then Evie. It immediately turned into a melee, with the girls climbing all over Auggie and Biscuit circling around to nip at his legs. Shaw tried to crawl away, but Biscuit took that as a sign of weakness and went after him.

John-Henry left them and chose to believe that the screams—even Shaw’s—were expressions of excitement and fun.

He found Colt, Ashley, Brendon, Anais, Noah, and Rebeca in the dining room. Colt and Ashley were obviously in their own world, and as the adults chatted, they spared them looks that ranged from amused to thoughtful.

“J-H,” Colt said, “Ash brought you and Pops gifts for, you know, helping us out.”

“Saving our lives,” Ashley said with a gentle smile.

“He got Pops a tactical pen.”

“Bruh!”

“What? He’s not here. Isn’t that fire, J-H?”

John-Henry smiled as he sat at the table. “He’s going to love it.”

Ashley rolled one shoulder, obviously caught between a moment of shyness and his pleasure at John-Henry’s response. Anais took a gift out of her bag and handed it to Ashley, who passed it to John-Henry. The paper had torn in a couple of places, and it was thoroughly—and unevenly—taped at every seam, all the signs that a teenage boy had been in charge of wrapping it. John-Henry opened it.

“Cologne,” he said, with a smile for Ashley. “I always need a new fragrance. Thank you, Ashley.”

“Bruh,” Colt said, dissolving into laughter.

“What?” Ashley said. He poked Colt. “Hey!”

Colt laughed harder, but he managed to drag himself upright long enough to say, “Night Thrust?”

“Oh my God,” Brendon said under his breath, and Anais’s eyes got huge.

“That’s not—” Ashley’s face flooded with color. “I didn’t—” He looked pleadingly at John-Henry. “It’s just the name!”

“It’s perfect, Ashley,” John-Henry said. “Colt’s just giving you grief; don’t listen to him. It’s a very thoughtful gift.”

“I wear Night Thrust,” Noah said.

With an unmistakable trace of horror, Rebeca said, “You do?”

After a few more thank-yous to make sure Ashley’s feelings weren’t hurt, John-Henry excused himself. He knew he was lucky in many regards, and one was that his son was an inveterate thief, which meant that in a few days or weeks, Night Thrust would end up safely in Colt’s bathroom, and John-Henry could conveniently forget about the well-intentioned but disastrously executed gift.

Emery was in the front room, with his mom, Cora, Jem, and Nico. After a glance at the cologne, Emery raised his eyebrows and said, “Would you like to share something with the class?”

“Ha ha. It’s a long story. Actually, not that long—it’s a gift from Ash.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“You’ll be pleased to learn you’re getting the companion fragrance: Black Hole.”

Emery stared for a full second. “You’re shitting me.”

“Bunny!”

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