The world zoomed back into focus, sounds and smells and touch finally registering in her once more. The gentle swirls of Ada's index finger over her hip hadn't faltered. Her interest was on the film. The only person staring was Aidan, and there was a knowing sombreness to his mask. Sam sensed a great deal going on beneath that smooth exterior. She thought she was going to be sick. There was a long, frantic debate between staying where she was and dashing for the toilet.

Sam eventually got a handle on her rampaging thoughts and felt the queasy seas in her stomach settle to a tolerable roil. Without a word she tipped her chin toward the patio, and Aidan was already halfway to his feet before she finished the gesture. She felt eyes on her back as they exited. They settled into camp chairs dragged from the sheltered corner, facing each other directly. He sat with his elbows on his knees, hands loosely overlapped, and fine drops from the gentle mist gathered on the thin hair there.

The pages were still clutched in her hand, crinkling beneath her fingertips. She tried to relax her grip, to no avail. She didn't know where to begin, which thread to tug first. All were loaded.

"Do you see why I took them?" Aidan asked flatly.

She nodded. She wasn't happy about it, and it didn't make what he did okay, but she was quietly glad she didn't read them sooner. It would definitely have been too much for her. He was right, but his actions weren't.

"As soon as I saw you, I had a pretty good idea as to why this attack felt, and was different." His dark eyes sparkled with something she couldn't place, something guarded and raw. "Something felt different from the minute I read the article. Noah is efficient. He doesn't fuck around with his prey, he never has. That you survived the initial attack at all had me on alert. Even before I read those,"—he gestured to the papers—"I saw what he saw of you. I hate to admit it, but you scared me a bit, too."

"It's horrifying to know he was watching me through my windows for three months." Sam shivered. "And maybe even after that. I can't help feeling guilty, even though he did all of this to himself."

Aidan's eyes pinched. "He did. It's not your fault."

"How are you so calm about this?"

"Practise," he shrugged, but it was forced. "Years of practise."

An insistent woodpecker began its work at the edge of the treeline. She watched its jerky movements for a time, gathering her thoughts. Not looking away from the bird, she asked in a whisper, "He has feelings for me, doesn't he?"

The answer was a long time coming, and she was afraid to look at his face. "I believe so."

A shudder wracked her. Somehow putting words to it made it worse. Shame, embarrassment, fear, disgust, pity all warred for dominance, restoring her urge to vomit. She couldn't reciprocate in the best of circumstances, and somehow had to live with the knowledge that her painful way of life had all been the whim of a man too broken to stop himself doing wrong. A tear spilt over and she swiped it away quickly.

When she could finally look at Aidan without crying, she asked, "If he wakes up, am I still going to be in danger?"

"I won't let him out of my sight."

"That's not what I mean. I need to know what is going to be done about him. I can't just go back to work if there's a chance he's going to slip away again and come after me. These change everything. I need to know."

After a moment, Aidan scrubbed a palm over the stubble darkening his jaw so a soft rasp joined the low din. The action was a filler, something to do as he planned his next words, exposing the fatigue he tried to hide. "I didn't want to face it so soon, but I also thought we had more time before we would catch him. Be honest with me here, don't spare my emotions, okay? I mean it. Do you really think I'm good enough to lead a pack? It can be dangerous, and it's a lot of hand shaking when the time calls for it."

Sam didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

She was pretty sure a part of him was hoping she would say no. But he sighed and dropped his hand, muttering "shit" in first English, then louder in French. "All right, fine. I guess there's nothing else for it. We're starting a pack." He paused, brief horror painting his face as he heard his own words. He quickly added, "That is, of course, if you want to. I don't expect anything."

"Of course I do," she replied; relief washed through her that he had finally accepted it, in so many words. "And Noah?"

"I have to figure out how to talk him into trusting me." Aidan pressed his lips into a flat, joyless smile. "That's going to be even harder than the last four years combined."

"Four? I thought he's been running for three."

"It wasn't a pleasant year before he left. Noah rebelled, hard. We tried to give him some freedom, but it was hard to find the right amount. That's why there were so few entries that year, he was busy pushing boundaries. Nothing seemed to work. It's a long story, but I made the mistake of taking him to a club when he turned nineteen. He had been doing so well, and I thought he'd enjoy it." Aidan sighed deeply, shoulders sagging. "I mean, he did, but that was the problem. I think that was when he got his hands on oxy for the first time. I gave him too much space that night." He shook his head slowly, as though it weighed a tonne. "It feels like another lifetime. To be clear, he had already been drinking and smoking for a while. He tried to keep it secret, but we knew. After a lot of arguments we decided to monitor, but say nothing. He could have been doing a lot worse."

Sam sighed lightly, choosing her words carefully. "I think that you did everything you could given the circumstances, and that Noah would have found this path with or without your help."

Aidan just shrugged. He was studying the grain of the wood beneath their feet, shoulders rounded. "Noah attacked first, right?"

"Of course," she frowned.

Aidan nodded slowly, satisfied, and fell silent for a few minutes. She didn't know what to say anymore, she seemed to have hit an emotional wall. She could flounder no more over Noah and his actions. She was exhausted and it wasn't even dinner time. Aidan didn't seem to know where to look, and his cheeks were faintly pink.

"I hope ..." he began, clearly undecided about voicing this thought, "that you know I was taking that lead seriously. I had appointments in the morning with some of the farmers to ask them questions about the mutilations. I just-"

Sam held up a palm and said, "I get it. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I guess we're all learning things about each other we never meant to share."

He half smiled. "I won't mention it if you won't."

As Sam got to her feet, something occurred to her. She might have figured out his odd question, and added in a hushed voice, "I wasn't trying to kill him, and I'm still not."

Aidan just nodded and followed her into shelter from the burgeoning rain.

The leaves offered decent shelter from the fat, frigid raindrops. Treefrogs had come out early, cheery in the damp foliage, singing with the birds. Ada and Sam hiked slowly into the woods, hand in hand, content to listen to the music around them. Her feet were still tender, but the cuts had healed over and there was no rush to go anywhere. She had taken some painkillers before they left; these injuries were not as painful as her arms, though they covered more of her body.

Her sweatpants were streaked with dampness from ferns and leaves parting to let her pass. Her sneakers were wet at the toes—they had the most comfortable soles, or else she would have worn boots. There was no wind to cool her sweaty face. Humidity clung to her skin.

"How far is it?" asked Ada. Thin strands of hair hung damp around her face, not long enough to stay up in her high ponytail. Her rainbow, Sam noticed, was faded.

"Another minute or two. You'll hear it shortly."

Sam was nervous about going back there, but she didn't want it to be poisoned in her memory. It was too beautiful. She hoped new memories would work.

The light between the trees ahead grew and the clearing came into view, the soft waterfall joining the song. As the sky opened above them, Sam opened the compact umbrella in her other hand and held it between them. Ada released her hand and took it, offering her arm to Sam. She accepted. She placed her other hand over Ada's for a moment, sharing a private smile with her. It helped. Ada let her lead the way to where the fight had occurred. It was plain to see even from a few feet away. Scuffed grass, divots in the muck, even a splash of blood, crusted maroon on the tops of leaves and blades of grass. It was just beginning to wash away.

"Yours or his?"

She grinned a little. "His. I bit him."

"I'm impressed." She angled herself toward Sam, smiling lightly. "You held your own in a disproportionate fight. You're a badass."

Sam leaned into her, feeling a little lighter for a moment. She didn't really feel like one just yet. "I'm just glad that's over. In theory. I can't say what he's going to do if he wakes up."

"What was on those pages you were reading? I didn't want to be nosey, I only looked once."

"The last pages of Noah's journal. Aidan cut them out because they're about me. His brother's been through a lot." she hedged.

Ada raised a brow, catching her eye. "About you how?"

By her tone, she knew it was a lot deeper than that. Sam didn't beat around the bush. "Noah became obsessed with me. He's been stalking me since September. I guess I look a lot like the first girl he killed. He's really sick."

"Do you believe that or are you just defending him?"

She wasn't expecting that. "No, I believe it. He's not well, and hasn't been for a long time. It doesn't excuse what he's done, it's just something to consider."

"I get that." Ada paused, casting her gaze around the nearly perfect circle that was the clearing. "He's got a lot of making up to do. I don't even know him but he's starting off in the red."

"I understand. I'm having a hard time with it, myself."

The stream was swelling eagerly in the downpour, just a few steps away. A frog let the current carry him wherever it was going, legs splayed out behind his plump body. Ada shifted, her arm encircling Sam's waist until her palm came to rest on the hollow of her back, drawing her in. Her face pressed into the soft cotton hood, feeling Ada's quick pulse against her cheek. Sam felt Ada's lips in her hair as she spoke.

"It's nearly over," she whispered reassuringly. "This part, at least. Just one more step before you get to go home."

Sam sucked in a steadying breath, clutching the fabric of her sweater. Then she blew her tension out on a sigh. Her voice was muffled by the fabric. "Thank you. You know you don't have to do this part, right? I want you to be there, but you're not obligated."

"I know." She squeezed her gently. "And I want to be there. Don't worry about me, I'm not scared of some grumpy shapeshifters."

"Maybe don't say that in front of them," Sam laughed. She finally leaned back to look at her. Her eyes were the same colour as the heavy clouds and just as turbulent. "What?"

"Can I ask you something?" Her eyes searched Sam's. She nodded. "You and Aidan, you haven't ... there's nothing there, right?"

"No," she smiled to ease her fears. "There's nothing there. We're good friends, nothing more. You don't need to worry."

She returned her smile, obviously a little embarrassed. "Sorry, I hate asking, but I needed to be sure. Nothing about this is exactly normal."

"Where's the fun in normal?" Sam said, somewhat breathy.

Ada closed the little distance, and any lingering doubts she had were gone. She savoured the softness of her lips on her own as her arm tightened around her. She forgot her anxieties for a moment. There was no where else she needed to be, or anything to worry about just then. It could all wait.

Her heart raced long after. She felt silly for worrying the night before had been a fluke. She had managed to convince herself it was just in the moment, a byproduct of her situation. Of course she knew this wasn't true, but the mind gets away sometimes.

Sam must have been staring down too long, because Ada gently took her chin between her thumb and knuckle to guide her face back to hers. Another long, tender kiss brought heat to her cheeks. It was hard to fret when she felt like melting.

There was a distinct crescendo as the rain struck the umbrella with fervour. The soft spray around her ankles grew to strike mid thigh. All at once she could barely see two feet in any direction, and laughed at how useless the umbrella was. They huddled beneath it and made a mad dash for the trees. The umbrella had to be collapsed, and the canopy only did so much, but Sam found a thick oak big enough to block the worst of it, and together they leaned in one of the deep valleys of its trunk until the weather let up some. 

Dawn was just beginning, and Sam could hear her car start outside, followed by a door slam. The cabin was alive with purpose. She paid the others little mind as she did her part. She was in charge of road snacks. There were four enormous thermoses before her, only one left to fill with coffee, and she danced a little to the music in her earbuds as she assembled yet another sandwich. Cain was determined to stop as little as possible. She had a feeling he probably had the pit stops planned to the minute.

For a minute, Sam simply watched the sky growing lighter through those enormous windows, knowing she had taken them for granted and would miss them before long. The lush forest was just starting to feel familiar. Her clearing had even taken, grass replacing the shrub she had flattened. Yes, she would miss this, but her bed, and her mountains called to her.

Aidan emerged from the washroom with his suitcase, smaller this time, but stuffed to bursting. "How's it coming?"

"Good," she answered, popping one earbud out and letting it swing. "I'll be done in a minute. Is Cain packed?"

"Yeah, he did that while you were asleep. Are you ready for this?" He stopped a few steps from the island, smiling a little half smile.

"As I'll ever be. I'll try to keep my comments to myself this time."

He grinned wider. "Probably wise."

"You're sure no one will mind Ada being there?" Sam wrapped the last sandwich and added it to the second cooler, sealing both.

"I'm sure they will, but they can't stop us. She's proven her loyalty already, and they'll just have to accept that."

Sam gave him a grateful smile as he strolled into the semi-dark to load his bag and the remaining supplies into the two vehicles. The truck's engine joined the distant din. Glancing around, she didn't see Ada. Her bag was gone, but her shoes were at the door. Sam looked to Aidan's sealed door and figured she must be in there. As she approached, she could hear a low, steady whisper, but couldn't make out the words. She tapped once and opened the door, and Ada's eyes met hers, the whisper coming to an abrupt halt. She smiled and straightened. One hand was draped over Noah's on the mattress.

"We're just about ready, I think," Sam said, returning her smile. As she got to her feet Sam stepped back to give her room to join her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just thought I should say something to him. I haven't been in to see him once this week." She led the way and passed Sam her sneakers, scooping up her own battered boots.

Sam just grinned, not sure what to say to that. It was good to know Ada didn't think he was a total monster. Even she didn't. It was a lot to process, and it was going to take a while, but she knew through all of it that he deserved a small measure of sympathy. She hoped Ada felt that, too, or this was going to be a very long drive.

At the bottom of the steps, Aidan was waiting for them, and Cain emerged from behind the truck, stretching his knuckles. Aidan asked, "Are you sure you want to take him? I really don't mind driving your car instead."

"Yeah," she replied and dropped her bag at her feet. "We'll be fine. You've hardly slept, you shouldn't be driving. Just make sure you tie those ropes properly, okay?"

Aidan chuckled, "Don't worry about that." Then he strode inside with a coil of braided nylon rope and a look of grim determination on his face.