Gifted (Cainsville 0.6)

"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 he 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, when Logan worked up the nerve to do it, Jeremy had been in an out-of-service area.

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 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. 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--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 one for as long as they could--up until two years ago, when Mom finally declared they were too old. He stayed in their room, which 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.

Logan was a little confused on the exact timeline. His parents had been together and then broken up, but, because Mom was Pack, she'd stayed at Stonehaven, at least some of the time, and . . . it was confusing. All he knew for sure was that Mom had kept her old bedroom, though she hadn't used it for years.

Deciding to move Kate in there had been something of a family joke. The room was super girly. Mom said that when she joined the Pack as the only female werewolf, it was the kind of room Jeremy figured she needed. Kate was about as girly as Mom was--which was to say, not at all--and now Kate had that room, and, like Mom, she couldn't complain too much for fear of hurting Jeremy's feelings. Logan figured by now Jeremy knew that it wasn't really their style, but it was like he was in on the joke, and everyone played along. Still, Kate was slowly but surely redecorating, piece by piece, poster by poster.

Logan's room was at the back, across the hall from Jeremy's. Kate's was on the other side of Jeremy's, across from Mom and Dad's. This meant that, when Logan snuck out, he'd have to pass Mom and Dad and Kate on his way to the stairs. This was a problem. His parents slept soundly. It was Kate who was overly attuned to his sleeping patterns. He'd be jumping out of the window instead.

Being a werewolf meant window-jumping wasn't nearly as dangerous as it might be. It wasn't now, that is. The first time they'd tried it, they'd been three. Logan twisted his ankle, and Kate sprained her wrist, and Mom totally freaked out. They hadn't hopped out any windows for years after that. But now, at their age, it was as simple--and safe--as jumping out a main floor one.

Logan opened his window, took out the screen and set it inside. Then he poked his head through to check below. He spotted a figure in the yard and jerked back fast. When he peered out, he saw . . .

Kate.

His sister was making her way across the back yard.

What the hell? He almost said that. Almost shouted it out the window. He started to jump out after her. Then he realized he was wearing his jacket and boots, which would take some explaining. He stashed them under his bed, pulled on a hoodie and slippers and jumped out the window.

He hit the ground and tore off after Kate. The fresh-falling snow was too powdery to squeak under his slippers, and she had her hoodie pulled tight, so she didn't hear a thing until she was flat on her face in the snow. She twisted, fists clenching. Then she stopped.

"Logan?"

"What the hell are you doing?" he snarled, and she didn't tell him to watch his language. She heard that tone and her gaze dropped, and she pushed up from the snow carefully, her posture submissive, which meant she knew what she'd done was wrong, because there was no submissive or dominant wolf in their relationship. They were twins. Equals in everything.

Normally, he'd have let it go at that. The wolf in him said that if she submitted, acknowledging her error, he should take the high road. She might deserve a cuff on the ears and another snarl, but that was it. Tonight though, with everything going on, he didn't feel like dropping it quite so fast.

"No, really," he said. "What the hell were you doing, Kate?"

"I . . . I was restless?" Her voice rose, in a question, as if looking for the answer that might appease him.

"So, you took off in the night again? After what happened this summer?"

"I--"

"No, this is worse than last summer, because this time you were expressly told not to come out here at any time. To sneak off in the night--"

"I'm sorry." She stepped toward him, her gaze down. "You're totally right."

He eased back, then, grumbling, his temper fading.