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green phone symbol and waited for him to pick up.
    It went straight to his mailbox.
    The sound of his voice took her anger up a notch. She waited for the beep, which finally sounded while she was mentally running through all the insults she could think of.
    “Dickhead!” she yelled, then hung up and tossed the phone across the room towards her bed. Luckily, that’s where it landed.
    Okay, so that wasn’t very mature, but what the fuck did she care. After tonight, she was done caring – everyone was a nutter.
    She stripped off her clothes for a shower and got even more annoyed when it hit her that she didn’t want to take them off because they smelled like Taylor.
    “Christ, Lydia! No one’s more of a nutter that you ,” she reprimanded as she kicked off her underwear, and then froze in her tracks when the green light on her landline’s answering machine blinked at her in greeting.
    She had a message?
    Wandering over to it she pressed the ‘Play’ button.
    “Lydia, hi. It’s Dad … again.”
    Her breath caught in her throat. Her dad never phoned her more than once a week – never .
    “Listen, we should meet up. There are … things … we need to catch up on.”
    There are? I don’t think so, Dad. Every time we’re in the same room together, we don’t even manage two words to each other. But then, why else would he be phoning? Maybe it’s urgent.
    A slight rustling sound. Was he leafing through papers or was it a bad connection?
    “Call me. Even if it’s late. Or tomorrow – whenever … um … there’s a storm headed your way tonight.”
    In the background she heard a strident voice sounding out clipped words that she couldn’t quite decipher, but she’d know that tone anywhere – it had scared the life out of her since she was five years old. Great Aunt Gladys!
    What’s she doing at Dad’s?
    “Okay, well, I’ll speak to you soon. ‘Bye.”
    The machine clicked itself to a halt.
    This mistake of a day had taken so much out her she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    The ringing in her head turned to dizziness, and all of a sudden, she didn’t feel so good again. She considered calling her dad, but she was bone-tired and couldn’t be a hundred percent certain she wouldn’t puke with her stomach bunched up in knots the way it was – a coherent conversation with her father was not something she felt she could contribute to right this second.
    Instead, she continued on towards the bathroom, stopping briefly in front of her wardrobe mirror to take in her nude form. She slowly turned around, craning her head to look at her reflection as far as she could manage it.
    Nope. No fur anywhere. Not a werewolf. Eat that, Taylor whatever-your-surname-is!
    She strode into the bathroom without bothering to shut the door, stood outside of the bathtub, reached up to turn the showerhead on, then pulled the splash screen across the edge of the bath. Within ten seconds the water was wonderfully hot … and again she hesitated.
    That smell of green was just to die for. She didn’t want to wash Taylor off her. But the guy was a lying, deceptive, insane bastard, so really, she should.
    Clenching her jaw to strengthen her resolve against her ridiculous reaction, she stepped around the screen and into the tub, straight under the streaming hose, sighing as the wet heat hit her; only a little apprehensive of the way her chest tightened as she soaped herself down.
    God, the shower felt good – this was what she needed: to wash this bizarre day away. Tomorrow she could start over … and see about getting that pill from the shrink. It must be almost 11 p.m. already. See? she thought, relaxing into the spray. Everything’s cool – the new day starts in just over an hour.
     
    ~*~
     
    Lawrence wasn’t alone. The entire pack was with him – three women and nine men, including himself and Lawrence – all but two of the other males in human form.
    Still in his wolf guise, Taylor trotted up to Lawrence – now