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said, suddenly, then looked down at her plate.
    Moonglow nodded. It wasn’t a surprise that the letter had come from Gawain. Kalix had loved him dearly. He’d loved her too, apparently. Enough to be banished from the clan. Though not enough to stop himself from having an affair with her sister, something of which Moonglow heartily disapproved. It had driven Kalix mad when she’d learned of it; later she’d settled into a dull depression and refused to speak about it.
    “He wants to see me,” said Kalix, quietly. “Dominil thinks I should go.”
    “Do you want to?”
    Kalix didn’t know if she wanted to or not. She’d been separated from Gawain for three years. When they’d been reunited, they’d had one day of happiness. Then everything had gone drastically wrong. It had all been too painful to bear. She didn’t know if she could stand opening the wound again.
    “Do you still love him?” asked Moonglow.
    “I’ll call Daniel and tell him it’s pizza time,” said Kalix, and she hurried from the room.

Chapter 15
     
    The Douglas-MacPhees, Duncan and his sister Rhona, were waiting in the pub when Decembrius arrived. They were with a man Decembrius didn’t recognize, and although the bar was full with a lunchtime crowd, there was space around them. Even as humans, the Douglas-MacPhees looked tough: people who should be avoided. Douglas’s long hair was held in place by a black bandana. He wore a leather waistcoat that showed the wolf tattoo on his shoulder, and he was unshaven for several days. Rhona wore a battered leather jacket. Neither smiled as he approached. Decembrius glanced at their companion.
    “Our cousin William.”
    “He’s almost as big as Fergus,” said Decembrius.
    Rhona scowled at the mention of her late brother’s name. It was a touchy subject. Decembrius had once fired a silver bullet into Fergus’s shoulder. Though it had been accidental, it was a taboo action that might have gotten him expelled from the clan had other, weightier matters not been occupying them at the time.
    “Poor Fergus,” said Duncan. “Never seen a werewolf in such pain.” He laughed and didn’t seem particularly annoyed at the memory. He leaned forward. “At least you didn’t kill him.”
    There was an intense silence.
    Rhona was the first to break it. “We’re looking for Kalix.”
    “We thought you might know where she was,” added Duncan.
    Decembrius eyed each of them in turn and sipped at the beer William brought to the table. William, he noted, was cast from the same mold as his cousins. No doubt he was just as vicious and unlawful as they were.
    “Why do you want to find her?”
    “She killed Fergus,” said Rhona.
    “There were a lot of werewolves killed that day,” said Decembrius, “but the clan’s at peace now.”
    Rhona leaned forward. Her hair, spilling from her bandana, was thick and black. When she spoke her Scottish accent was very strong, like her brother’s.
    “I thought you’d be keen to help us. She killed Sarapen too.”
    “They’ve all made peace in Scotland,” repeated Decembrius.
    The Douglas-MacPhees laughed. Their newest associate, cousin William, had a deep bellowing voice, matching his frame, and his laughter made the table vibrate.
    “You think so?” growled Duncan. “Marwanis MacRinnalch hasn’t made peace. Nor Red Ruraich MacAndris and his clan.”
    “And the new Baron MacPhee isn’t a peaceful sort of werewolf,” added Rhona. “There’s quite a lot of people don’t like Markus as Thane.”
    “I don’t like him myself,” countered Decembrius. “That doesn’t mean there’s anything to be done about it. The Great Council supports him. No one’s going to start another war over it.”
    “Who said anything about starting a war?” growled Duncan. “We don’t care who leads the MacRinnalchs. A plague on the Thane, whoever he is. We’re talking about revenge on Kalix. No one can find her since the enchantress gave her the pendant that hides her.