Bite Me

      I stared at the oak table, fidgeting nervously with the sling supporting my right arm. I felt five pairs of eyes boring into my skin, questioning and angry and impatient. All I could see was Mason's crumpled form, staining the grass red. All I could think about was the fact that right now, in the mansion's infirmary, he could be dying. If that knife had plunged in deep enough, or hit something vital enough, or been in his flesh long enough. . .

"Mr. Callisto," the deep, gravely voice of Mason's father said, not for the first time. "We will not sit here and wait for you to explain all day. If you do not tell us what happened, you are a suspect."

His wife put a hand on his arm, but she didn't say anything. Nobody did, aside from the alpha. He did all of the speaking, but whenever I looked up, I could tell that his wife and sons had several biting comments to make.

They were all growing very agitated with me, I knew. For the last half an hour, or maybe an entire hour, I'd sat frozen and unresponsive. They wanted answers, but I didn't offer any. Not because I didn't want to, but because my brain was shutting down on me. I could hardly focus on their words, let alone formulate any of my own. Even if I could think clearly, I wasn't sure how responsive my body would be.

"I'm sorry," I said hoarsely, because that was all I could managed.

"Sorry isn't enough," the alpha—Roger Kane—snapped. "We need an explanation."

     Slowly, I pulled myself together. My sentences were broken and distracted, and my voice was hardly above a whisper, but I said what I could manage. It took a long time, longer than it should have, but I recounted the story.

     I didn't look up until I'd finished. When I did, I wasn't sure what to think of what I was seeing. Each of the wolves wore the same exact expression—their features looked so similar, it was almost creepy.

     Then, all of a sudden, Chancy Kane broke the silence with a horrible screech. "This is your fault!"

      She lunged at me across the table, but her husband held her back. I could only stare at her, wide eyed and maybe shaking a little.

     "Calm yourself," Roger said sternly, glaring at his wife. "That is not necessary."

     "I think it's pretty damn necessary," the eldest brother—Liam—grumbled. "We should have never let Mason—"

      "Quiet!" Roger commanded. "Mason did what any of us would do. Don't be bitter, son. I am certainly not happy with this young man," he indicated to me, "But we cannot blame him."

     I couldn't even feel relieved. I wasn't sure how I felt at all. Lost, perhaps? I had no idea what to say, or who to say it to. I felt tiny, a foe among his enemies. When I looked around the table, I could tell that four werewolves would enjoy tearing me to pieces, had it not been for their leader. All of the attention was focused on me, and I wished for nothing more than a distraction.

    The Kanes began discussing among themselves in hushed voices. I could have listened in, but I felt no motivation to do so. If I could sink through the Earth and vanish, just long enough to get my head straight, I would be happy. Then I could contribute my mind more, then I could help find justice for Mason.

     "Kieran, do you understand?"

      My head snapped up as I realized that Roger was addressing me. "What?" I asked stupidly. The alpha wolf gritted his teeth, and I could tell his patience was wearing thin.