Etched in Bone (The Others, #5)

by Anne Bishop

Vlad replied, giving her a warm smile that didn’t show his teeth. Somehow revealing fangs seemed like one-upmanship.

For a moment, Simon envied the Sanguinati’s ability to feed so subtly that the prey didn’t know anything had happened. If a Wolf tore off a chunk of meat, it was pretty obvious.

<Meg?> the female said. <The sweet blood howling not-Wolf,> Simon replied. <Broomstick Girl,> Air added, referring to the song Charlie Crowgard had written about Meg and Merri Lee protecting Skippy from a bad human named Phineas Jones.

“One young woman is hardly an invasion.” “The female pack was the invasion,” Simon grumbled. “Exploding fluffballs. Bunnies with teeth.”

His father had taught him many things, but his mother had taught him the value of courtesy. She’d taught him to respect the feelings of others. And both his parents had taught him to stand up for himself without beating down someone else.

“You think I don’t understand what happened here, and why? Trying takes courage. How many of you got it right the first time?”

The not-Wolf amused them, even when she sounded like a scoldy squirrel. Maybe then most of all.