Logan said nothing.
Jeremy took another bite of his lunch before saying, “Your mom has learned to ask for help, but it’s still difficult. Do you know what she often does instead? She tells me or your dad her ideas and then waits to see what we say. That way, she’s not really asking, but we’ll still offer advice.”
Jeremy waited again, and Logan knew he was hinting for Logan to do the same. Which would be great … if he had ideas to share. Instead, he just sat there, fingering his sandwich. Then he said, “Can you tell me a story about my dad?”
Jeremy’s lips quirked. “One that illustrates the principles I’m trying to communicate? Or one to distract me from pestering you?”
“I just … I need to think some more. A story would help.”
“Distract you, then. All right. Let’s see if I can find one you haven’t heard …”
When they got home, Kate zoomed into the hall and launched herself at him. Not unlike the puppy, he reflected. Just with less slobber.
“What’d you get me?” she said as she bounced.
“Was I supposed to get you something?” he teased.
“Um, yeah. Only the best Christmas present ever.”
He faltered at that.
I did. I tried.
“Oh, I’m kidding. Geez, Lo, you take everything so seriously. Of course, may I point out that your amazing sister did get you the best gift evah.”
“Ignore her,” Mom said, walking into the front hall. “We went to town to grab a few groceries, and she talked us into another hot chocolate. Then we made the mistake of letting her run in to buy it herself. She got an extra-large. She’s been bouncing off the walls ever since. Too much sugar.”
“Sugar doesn’t trigger hyperactivity, Mom,” Logan said. “Smarty-pants. Caffeine, then.”
“There isn’t enough caffeine in hot chocolate—”
“Yes, yes. I’m wrong. Very, very wrong. You do know we’re supposed to get a few more years of you thinking your parents know everything, right?”
He smiled. “I never thought that. Sorry.”
She smacked his shoulder and waved him into the study. “Your dad needs to talk to you about something. Jer, can I speak to you? And no, you aren’t going to just stay quiet and hope to escape Kate’s bouncing. If it doesn’t work for Logan, it won’t work for you. Kate? Go … run around the house ten times or something.” She steered Logan toward the study and motioned for Jeremy to follow her.
“What’s up?” Logan said as he walked into the study. He said it as casually as he could, considering his palms were sweating so hard he had to shove his hands in his pockets.
He’s found the puppy. He went for a walk and found it, and now I’m in trouble. He doesn’t want to bother Mom about it, not when tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.
Christmas was important to Mom. Logan and Kate had always known that. Dad went out of his way to make it perfect, and he was a little more inclined to discipline them himself at this time of year, to keep everything running smoothly. Logan and Kate never asked why it was important. It just was, which meant they had a magical Christmas themselves every year, because that’s what Mom wanted for them.
Dad was busy cleaning out the fireplace—his head stuck in it—and he didn’t seem to hear Logan’s question. Logan had to smile at that and said, “You, uh, don’t need to do that this year, Dad. We know. Remember?”
“What?” Dad backed up. “Oh. Right.” He rubbed his chin, leaving a smudge of soot, and he looked … disappointed. As if he’d forgotten this year would be different, part of the magic left behind in the world of childhood that the twins were quickly leaving.
“You probably should, though,” Logan said. “Kate may have been the one to insist on an honest answer, but …” He lowered his voice. “I think she still believes.”
Dad smiled at him and shook his head. He’d know Logan was humoring him, but he’d do it anyway. It was tradition, and they still believed in that.
As Dad backed out, Logan said, “Should I, uh, shut the door?”
“What?” Dad’s face screwed up. “No, no. You aren’t in trouble, Logan. I just need to talk to you about something. Before we went to town, your mom, Kate, and I took a walk out back, and we smelled something.”
Logan clenched his fists, breath jammed in his throat. I’m sorry. That’s what he’d lead with. I’m so, so sorry.
“A mutt,” Dad said.
“What?”
“Yeah, I know. There hasn’t been a mutt near Stonehaven in years.”
“R-right. They know better.” At first, when Dad said “mutt,” all Logan could think of was the puppy. It was a mutt: a crossbreed. But that was also their word for non-Pack werewolves, and it showed how distracted Logan was that it had taken him a moment to remember that.
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure we’re wrong,” Dad said. “It was just a whiff, and it passed so fast that all I can say for sure is that we smelled canine and human, and hell, it might have just been some guy walking a dog along the road.”
Or a puppy, covered in human scent.
“Your mom is sure it’s nothing, but”—Dad shrugged—“I’m not taking any chances. We don’t need to go for a run until the Pack Meet, so there’s no reason to head out back. We’ll be on alert, but Jeremy’s still leaving later, and no one’s changing any plans. The only thing is that I need to ask you and Kate to stay out of the woods.”
Logan went still.
Dad peered at him. “Is that a problem? I know your mom said you’ve been restless. We can go for a drive later, the two of us. Walk someplace else.”
“No, I’m fine.”
More peering. Then Dad nodded, not seeming entirely convinced, but only saying, “If you change your mind, day or night, and you need to go out, you just tell me, okay?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Now, if you’re still feeling like being extra responsible, you can help me with this fireplace.”
The puppy needed to eat. It needed food and fresh water, and Logan couldn’t let it go without either until morning. He had to tell his parents.
He should have talked to Jeremy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Logan might come by his independent streak honestly, but that was no excuse. Now Jeremy had left, and he’d told Logan to call if he wanted to talk, but then Logan hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to do it.
His parents kept going in and out, scouting the perimeter, and Logan couldn’t stop thinking about the puppy getting lonely and scared. Would it start howling? Would his parents find it?
After dinner, it was time to bake gingerbread cookies, one of their favorite Christmas traditions. Logan couldn’t ruin that by bringing up the puppy.
He had to slip out again after dark. There was no mutt. There hadn’t been one on the property in years—it certainly wouldn’t happen now. Mom and Dad had smelled the puppy, that’s all. Logan was safe. He just couldn’t get caught, because that would be a serious infraction, worse than anything he’d ever done. Worse than anything Kate had ever done. For this, he’d be punished—not as a boy disobeying his parents, but as a Pack wolf disobeying the Alpha.
He couldn’t get caught. It was that simple.
Logan watched the clock tick toward midnight. He had his own bedroom now. He and Kate had shared up until two years ago, when Mom declared they were too old. He stayed in the room that used to be Malcolm’s. Kate moved to Mom’s old room, from before she and Dad got together. Or before they got together for good.