over the distorted skeleton like half-melted rubber. Here and there patches of fur dappled her, melting back into human skin. The left side of her jaw bulged, the lips too short to hide the bone, and through the gap I could see her human teeth. Her right arm, almost completely human, seemed so thin, so fragile, little more than bone sheathed in skin.
When I sat there and watched her, my heart squeezed itself into a hard painful rock. It wasn’t just Maddie. It was the haunted desperation in her mother and sister. It was the panic in Jennifer’s face. It was the masked fear in Andrea, who had come to see Maddie last night. I’d watched my best friend as she crossed her arms on her chest trying to convince herself that this wasn’t her future. She loved Raphael. She wanted children and a family, and both of Raphael’s brothers went loup at puberty and had to be killed. When Aunt B said they would need panacea, she meant it.
It was the icy nagging dread inside me that said, This could be your child .
Maddie, the cute funny girl, whom we all knew and took for granted. We had to save her. I had to save her. If there was one thing I could accomplish, it would be giving her life back to her.
Julie straightened. Her eyes were red, the skin around them puffy. I wished I could do something.
“She isn’t hurting.”
“I know.” Julie sniffed.
“I read to her. Her mom does too, and Doolittle’s nurses. She isn’t alone.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m trying to understand why.” Her voice broke. “Why?” She turned and looked at me, tear-filled eyes bright and brimming with hurt. “She was my best friend. I only have one. Why did it have to be her?”
The million-dollar question. “Would you rather it be Margo?”
“No.” Julie shook her head. “No. She feels horrible, because she’s okay and Maddie isn’t. I hugged her and I told her that I was so glad that she made it.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“It’s not Margo’s fault that the medicine didn’t work. I just don’t want it to be Maddie. I want her to be okay. It’s like this is the cost.”
“The cost of what?”
“Of magic. Of being a shapeshifter. Like they’re strong and fast and somebody has to pay the price for that. But why her?”
I wish I knew. I’d asked myself the exact same question when I found Voron dead, when I saw the ruin of Greg Feldman’s body, and when Julie lay in a hospital bed, so sedated her heart was barely beating. I wanted so much to spare Julie from that. It killed me that I couldn’t. I didn’t know why some people had tragedy after tragedy thrown at them, as if life were testing them, and others lived blissfully, untouched by grief.
I told her the truth. “I don’t know. I think it’s because a child is the most precious thing we have. There is a price for everything, and it’s never something you can afford to give up. It’s always someone you love.”
Julie stared at me. “Why?”
“I don’t know. That’s the way it always is.”
Julie drew back. “I don’t want it. If that’s the way it’s going to be, I don’t want to have any babies.”
Life had finally scarred Julie deep enough. Now my kid had decided not to have children, not because she didn’t want to be a mother, but because she was too scared of the world into which she would be bringing her children. That was so screwed up. I wanted to stab something.
Julie was looking at me, waiting for something.
“Having children or not having them is your choice, Julie. Whether you do or don’t, Curran and I will love you anyway. You don’t ever have to worry that we’ll stop.”
“Good, because I don’t want kids.”
We fell silent.
“You’re leaving,” she said.
“Yes. Are you scared?”
Julie shrugged. “You’re the alpha and you have to go.”
“That’s right.”
“And if anybody will get the medicine, it’s you. I understand.” Her voice was tiny. “Don’t die. Just don’t
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