You would think with how dramatic that declaration was, they were going to put a paper bag over my head too. Instead, Smith has Wu drop all three of us off at a simple non-descript two-story apartment down the block. It's all very civil, with absolutely no Hollywood exaggeration to be seen. Barbaric.

I look to my right, where Smith is pulling out a set of keys from her belt, her muscles flexing. I look to my left to where Cheekbones has taken his smartphone out of his back pocket to call someone, brooding. I try to memorize the mean average attractiveness of my company because this is some of the last eye-candy I'm going to get before Werewolf Mom: Ignited Fury kills me for taking her son's virtue in a convenience store.

At first glance, Werewolf HQ looks like a regular residential building. It's not at all an impressive visual. Long green ivy climbs up the sides of the red bricks. The windows above come with shutters that have seen better years. There are small, dying, flower beds next to the concrete steps. As we climb onto the landing, I notice the banged up and slightly rusted mailbox. The brassy plate with the house number hangs on a loose nail. The grass is also kind of yellow and with lots of small holes. I almost want to ask when Smith unlocks the front door, opens it, and shoves me through it.

Immediately, it feels like someone's punched me in the back of my head. Smith's hand tightens on my arms as I stumble, my body locking up. She pushes me further through, forcing me to move to match her pace. Once we clear the threshold, my limbs jerk as if shaken by an invisible puppeteer.

I'm groaning. The pain doesn't leave completely, but it eventually recedes enough into a faint throbbing. "Did- " My skin's still tingling and crawls. My head's buzzing. "Did I just get frisked by a bolt of lightning?"

"Afternoon, Richard," Smith says to the security guard behind a counter. "Alpha's expecting us."

"Hello?" I demand to both of them. They ignore me. The security guard picks up the phone from the wall. "What did--?"

Behind me, I hear an uncomfortable grunt from Cheekbones. "They're electricity-based wards," he says. "If it really was lightning, you'd be dead." I follow his gaze up to where a set of engraved symbols sit on a plate above the door. "Getting used to it after all these years is still," he grimaces, looking sick, "a work in progress."

So it's not just outsiders; even the werewolves have to electrocute themselves every time they walk through the front door. Pity fills me. No wonder Cheekbones was traumatized by the couple fight at the hotel.

I glance at Smith. She's busy signing a book the guard has put on the counter.

Cheekbones's skin has dulled and there's sweat beading on his forehead. I lower my voice. "You okay?"

"I've been worse," he mumbles behind a fist. "But I'll be okay." He looks like he's going to throw up. "I hope."

"Just so you know," I say, leaning back to Smith's direction. "You are a terrible big sister."

Smith's hand tightens considerably on my arm. I wince. Then again, she could execute a piledriver on a bull and arm wrestle a bear with that grip alone. "I can't do anything about it. He's sensitive," she tells me sharply, almost stabbing the pen back into the holder. She frowns at her brother. "Nobody told you to come, you know."

"Shut up." Cheekbones looks like he doesn't know if he wants to glare at his sister or projectile vomit on her. He settles for almost puking in his hand and grimacing at the aftertaste he swallows back down. "Give me a second."

Smith gives him a half-distasteful, half-exasperated look, but she doesn't move us forward. Cheekbones takes this time to lean wearily against the counter. Richard gives him a water bottle and a pat on the head.

Cheekbones unscrews the lid and looks faint. He takes a mouthful of water and doesn't look any prettier.

"You want to sit or lie down somewhere?" I ask him. He shakes his head slightly before he pauses. He nods his head, once. He looks miserable. "Hey, you don't have to come with me. I'm only meeting your mom."

"But--"

"I'll be okay," I soothe. "Take it easy. I appreciate you caring, but I'd feel better if you looked out for yourself."

"We're heading up," Smith interrupts before Cheekbones can respond. She frogmarches me over the ornate carpet, somewhat angrier than she was before. I try to wriggle my fingers at Cheekbones as she storms us away.

In all honesty, the inside of this place does not look like the outside. It's a decent level above the Mundane, actually, considering how many people must come in and out every day. The flooring's quality wood under equal quality and durable carpet. Some of the walls have shelves in them with ornate vases and at the corners are tall plants in larger ones.

Richard buzzes the set of doors before us. At first, I don't pay much attention to the pair of metal doors. I figure they're the kind you'd find in butcher shops or the occasional chop shop. In fact, I only give a passing glance as the doors swing open. Then I look closer.

I look at Smith. Thick, reinforced doors. "We're at the Werewolf Bank? Is this where you bury your bones?"

"This is the Pack headquarters," Smith says to me as she pulls me through. "Behave," she growls.

"Because you asked," I promise, "I'll do my best. But I'm serious. The doors?"

Smith resigns herself to answer my questions as we round the hallway. It's a very good look on her, and I'm not saying that because Wu was awful to talk to. "Military grade."

"Ballistic armour, and also torch and thermic lance resistant?" I try to crane my neck back to the doors with interest, but they disappear fast. "You trying to keep something out of this place?"

Smith stops. She turns me around, pushing my back to the wall. Rather violently. "We're not keeping anything out of this place," she says to me. "We're--" She cuts off. She whips her head to the side so fast I feel it in my neck.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "Is Chee--is your brother okay?"

Smith doesn't answer me, eyes wide. Then she curls her lip, and straightens. She grabs my arm and yanks me forward and down the hallway. "Don't bring what I said up in front of them."

"Them?" That's weird. She stops right outside a door that looks the same as all the rest. "I thought I was only talking to your mom? Who's with her?"

Smith stops with her knuckles raised above the door. She turns to me.

Cheekbones's sister looks the same as him when she looks annoyed. She's all bushy eyebrows furrowing and a disgruntled expression.

"Your cousin," she says.