Hunter entered the shooting range and cocked her hip. The prospect, Gideon was in one of the sections, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he blindly shot at a target making a hole as big as her fist in the hologram.

She waited until he stopped. “Forget you have potlatch tonight, Gideon?” she asked.

Gideon jumped. “Shit.” He swore. He had forgotten. At least, he knew what to expect this time.

“I thought you might have,” she said with a nod. She looked at the target. “What did poor Dick do to you?”

Gideon set the gun down. “Nothing,” he muttered. He reached up and rubbed his wrist where the cuff sat.

Hunter shifted her weight and came over. She grabbed his wrist and looked at it. “It’s still too small.” She took it off.

Gideon repressed a whimper. He hated to be unarmed. He didn’t want to piss off Savannah any more than she already was. “Savannah—”

“I’ll transfer it all to a larger size and get it back to you before she sees,” Hunter said gently. “Savannah’s paranoid.” She shrugged. “We all have our ticks.” She whipped out a measuring tape and measured his wrist quickly. “You go get something to share for potlatch and I’ll meet you when you get back.”

Gideon rubbed his wrist again. He nodded. “Thanks, Hunter.” He reached up and touched the earring. “Um, when can I take this out?”

Hunter narrowed her eyes. “You don’t.”

He dropped his hand and bit his lip. Great. He hadn’t wanted it in the first place. Savannah didn’t listen and given it to him anyways, and now he was stuck with it.

Hunter sighed. “It’s one of Brand’s ticks. When your ear heals, Darkside and I will let you pick out an earring that suits your personality a little better and get you set up on a permanent signal instead of a guest one.”

Gideon rubbed the ear again. It didn’t sting as much. “Okay.” Apparently he wasn’t getting a choice in this. “I guess,” he finished in a mutter.

Hunter shook her head. “What did Savannah do to you?” she asked and she didn’t mean the earring.

Gideon bit his tongue. This was between him and Savannah. He looked at his shoes.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be the first unable to work with her,” she said and walked away. “Or the first down here shredding targets after failing.”

Gideon’s head jerked up. It wasn’t that at all! Savannah was stingy with information that if he wanted to work with her, he couldn’t. At least, not and be sure he was on solid footing or doing remotely the right thing. He didn’t always do the right thing instinctually, sometimes he got heroic, overprotective, and as Savannah put it, manly. She seemed to resent that type of behavior.

He rubbed his wrist again. The skin looked red where the cuff had chafed at it. He reflexively reached up and touched his tags. He didn’t like Hunter’s assumption and he didn’t know how to dispute it without having the whole thing out or Hunter assuming he was lying.

Great. He didn’t want to bungle this up. He wanted to stay. Or at least he thought he did. He did want to fit in here. Pissing off Savannah would not help towards that goal. He walked out the door and told himself to brush off his manners. He had to try to remember that Savannah was his superior and rank had its privileges. Two of them were apparently not explaining things to those of lesser rank or asking names.

He sighed and got moving. He still wanted to know what the tailing was about though. That wasn’t making him the least bit easy. Damn it, this was becoming complicated.

---

Savannah got to the front of the line at the back of the van. She could see her dishes and her pan of food right near the back. They were still out of her reach. “Right there, Cole,” she said.

Cole grinned and picked them up. He handed the pan towards her.

Gideon reached over her shoulder, got a hand under it. “I got it,” he said and lifted it over Savannah’s head.

Savannah’s eyes narrowed and she spun about and had to tilt her head way back to look at him he was close. “Are you trying to prove something?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said with a grin.

Savannah turned around and grabbed the picnic basket that held her dishes. She grumbled under her breath. She knew she was short. She hated feeling short. Gideon adjusted his grip on the pan and shook down the two buckets he had on his arm.

“Thanks, Cole,” he said.

Cole shook his head and rolled his eyes. He ducked back into the van.

Gideon hurried after Savannah and reached the door after she did, and grabbed the handle. Savannah turned and glared at him. “I can get the door.”

“You’re liberated and independent.” Gideon paused. “And in the way.”

“I am not in the way if I get the door. You are.”

“It is my duty and privilege,” Gideon said with a straight face. He wasn’t meaning to bait her about it, but she was making this easy.

Savannah crossed her arms and looked at his arm. “I can’t move with your arm in the way.”

“If I move my arm, you’ll open the door.”

“I won’t.”

Behind them, Flint rolled his eyes. Savannah sounded like she was in one of her moods. “Savannah! Let him do it!” he said and juggled his toddler onto another arm.

Savannah lifted her nose. “I could get it myself.”

“I know that.”

“As long as you do, I suppose you can get the door,” Savannah said and ducked under his arm.

Gideon opened the door. “I’d gesture you through, but my hands are full.”

Her nose tilted upwards. “Excuses, excuses,” she said and stalked through the door.

Gideon looked at Flint and sighed.

Flint shook his head. “I got it. Morgan’s coming with the pups and you’ll want to be out of the way.”

“Good advice.” Gideon held the door until he was sure Flint had the weight of it and moved after Savannah, through the bar into the dining hall and towards the long table holding the food.

Esme smiled at him. “Savannah!” she said.

“Prospect has my dish,” Savannah replied.

Esme wiped her hands on a towel and looked at it. “Oh good, that can go right here,” she said and pointed towards an empty place. She eyed the buckets. “And what are those?”

“Candy,” Gideon said. People liked candy. Besides, it was the best he could do on short notice, since Savannah who had said she would remind him, had been pissed or peeved or whatever at him and had forgotten.

Esme rolled her eyes, leaned across the table and bussed his cheek. “The pups will love you,” she said.

Savannah grabbed his arm and while it would look like to everyone else in the club that he was steering her, she was in fact steering him. Gideon looked down at the top of her head. He hadn’t had a chance to tell Esme he didn’t have dishes, and this wasn’t the way to a table where he could find a seat close to the door.

Savannah led him up to the front table, leaned over and bussed Brand’s cheek. “Hello, Grandfather.”

“It’s my favorite granddaughter,” Brand said and kissed her cheek back.

Savannah sighed. “May I remind you that I am your only granddaughter, as my aunts and uncles only gave you grandsons?”

“Much to my detriment.” Brand grinned. “Good evening, Prospect.”

Savannah set her basket on the table and let Gideon go. She opened it and pulled out two plates, setting them a little way down from Brand. Gideon eyed her. Two plates, what did Savannah need two plates for? “Hello, sir.”

“You can call me, Brand.”

“I’ll try to remember.” Gideon paused and winked at him. “Sir.”

Savannah sighed. He was inflating her grandfather’s ego. She wondered how long Brand would let him get away with such nonsense. She finished setting out to place settings and grabbed for the chair nearer to Brand. Gideon grabbed it, his hand on top of hers. She eyed him. “It’s a chair,” she said.

Brand ducked his head and grinned.

Gideon pulled it out anyways.

Savannah rolled her eyes and sat down. “Would you like to sit sometime this evening?” she asked.

“Um, where?”

Savannah patted the place setting next to her. “Right here, where else would you be sitting?”

“I’m a prospect.”

“Who forgot dishes,” Savannah said, feeling a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t meant to blow up at him. But she wasn’t ready yet to apologize. “I’m your sponsor. You sit with me.”

Gideon glanced around the hall. Up front, with all the officers, him, a lowly prospect, he swallowed hard. He looked at Brand who was watching him carefully. Judging him, to see how he would handle this, and it hit him hard that Brand was Savannah’s grandfather.

He didn’t dare refuse. “I’m honored,” he said. Yeah, honored to be the focal point of how many eyes. He grabbed the chair next to Savannah and sat down.

Brand snorted.

Savannah looked over at him. He looked mildly green. She thought about pointing it out and decided not to. She turned her attention to Brand. “The Rebels are putting out feelers,” she said.

Gideon perked up without changing his posture. He didn’t want Savannah and Brand to know he was listening. Who were the Rebels? Did it have anything to do with what he and Savannah had done today?

Brand put his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. “This is sooner than expected.”

“They went quietly, too quietly if you ask me.” Savannah picked up her fork and played with the tines. She set it down. “I think they know Poker’s gone.”

Gideon bit his tongue. The Rebels did have something to do with the earlier tailing. He felt uneasiness strike him again. He felt a little like he was reeling. He definitely hadn’t asked enough questions.

Brand sighed. “It had to come out sometime.”

“She’s not ready.”

Brand looked a little reproving. “And now isn’t the time.” He shut down the subject.

Savannah nodded sharply. “Any news on Dr. Brown?”

“He was doing something else in Africa than saving lives.”

Savannah hissed.

Gideon’s head came up. He looked over. This sounded like a safer topic that he could contribute to. He narrowed his eyes. “Like what?” he asked. “Spying?”

Brand shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a good a guess as any.”

“I hope this doesn’t come back to bite us,” Savannah muttered.

“Oh, it probably will.” Brand shook his head. “I let them think that we were fooled but did make a few pointed comments. His family will be here within the week to be with him. I don’t think Hope is going to let him go back home until he can walk again. She’s getting the read off of him that he doesn’t want to leave yet either.”

“The real question is, did he find anything out or not?” Gideon murmured. “That is, if he was spying.”

“And did they get anything out of him when they tortured him,” Brand added. “Or did they assume he was a doctor on a good will mission? Not that we’ll ever know.”

Gideon leaned forward, feeling his tags move. He’d spent a bit too much time in Africa for his own peace of mind. He knew what the continent was like. “He wouldn’t have to do much to get good information.”

Savannah set her fork down. “Whatever he does or doesn’t know, we don’t want to know it. It doesn’t involve us. And if it does, it won’t be Heaven that is coming for them,” she said in a dark tone.

Brand changed the subject to food. And Gideon relaxed until Padre said grace. When he tried to get Savannah’s chair, she glared at him. He got it anyways. Savannah scowled and ignored him as they got their food and almost managed to get her own chair before they sat back down. Gideon grabbed it a second before she did.

She slapped her plate on the table with ill grace, sat down and pulled it in herself. Esme looked over and frowned. Gideon rolled his eyes at Savannah’s back and sat down next to her. She wasn’t mad at him. And as long as he remembered that, he could take her behavior with grace. It was like she was snapping and snarling to prove that she was strong enough and independent enough or something enough so he wouldn’t challenge her.

He fiddled with his silverware and looked over the room trying to find people he’d met before. He mentally counted people as he went. His gut churned. No one looked familiar from the previous week. Sure he’d met Flint and Morgan and their kids, four boys and two girls he noted. However, Beda wasn’t there. He didn’t see Kirby or Reese, or Sasha or Hunter or anyone he’d met otherwise.

He looked down at his fork and spent an inordinate amount of time staring at it. Savannah said he had a month worth of mandatory attendance to potlatch. He’d thought that was a randomly picked number. And there were about fifty people in the hall not including the officers and their spouses. He did the math in his head. Fifty times four equaled. His mouth opened before he could think about it. “There are two hundred people in your pack?”

Brand coughed.

Savannah turned her head and stared at him. She muttered something under her breath about smart cookies and quick and he didn’t quite catch it all. He thought there was ‘too smart for his own good,’ in the mutters.

Ted leaned forward on his other side. “Yep. That’s about forty-nine families if you go by the law of averages and everyone has three kids.” He cut into the meat on his plate and narrowed his eyes. “That would mean though that the younger folks would outnumber us older folks. But, you know that’s not the case. Morgan and Flint have six and Savannah’s folks, they had the one. The old folks are getting older and not dying off as fast as they used to, and the younger folks are getting to be adults now and they aren’t getting married and having kids like they are supposed to do.”

“It’s not something you can force,” Savannah said and rolled her eyes. “This doesn’t include the charter packs and nomads.” She picked up the saltshaker. “Salt?”

“No thanks,” Gideon said and to him it sounded faint.

Ted continued. “It’s spread out over five generations, the eldest being Kirby and the youngest I guess would be the Clarks’ baby until other young couple gets up the gumption to add to their family line. It’s closer to forty-five families really. Padre over there is a contemporary of Brand’s father.”

Gideon’s brain stuttered. Forty-five families? He had thought there would be ten, maybe. Though he had to admit, they’d stopped at ten homes yesterday, at least. So much for him to be able to figure out who was related to who and who was dating who with any ease.

Savannah nodded. “And with eight being the charter minimum, that’s one hundred four more people who can consider themselves part of the pack at any time.”

“I think The City charter and maybe that new Texas charter are the charters at bare minimum right now,” Ted said. “Adult wise. Number does change depending on how you count. We’re at two hundred plus with dependents, but possibly closer to 120 without. Town’s about twenty thousand people, we’re that elusive one percent,” Ted said with a grin. He started to eat.

Gideon swallowed hard. There weren’t twenty werewolves in the town he’d come from. The mayor and a couple of families, and no one was over the age of seventy. His family alone had been over one quarter of the werewolves in town.

He stared down at his plate and started to cut up his food. He really wasn’t sure how having two hundred werewolves in one town didn’t cause massive power struggles and fights. He could count on one hand how many people he’d known in his lifetime that had left or disappeared in his hometown. Gideon started to eat and thought about it. Still didn’t make much sense to him.

Brand glanced over and saw that Gideon’s brow was furrowed. “Senseless violence among ourselves is for other packs,” he said. “Cutting down on the killing was the best way to increase population. It’s why Steele and Randy came up with the Code. There’s safety in numbers.”

Ted raised his fork. “And the increase of danger of the humans finding out the possibly worst kept secret in over one thousand years.”

Savannah made a face. “Oh must we debate this over the dinner table, again?”

Brand ignored her. “Bigger numbers makes us harder to eradicate.”

Savannah cleared her face. “What’s the difference between a wolf and a werewolf?”

Gideon stared at her blankly. There were a lot of differences.

Apparently Savannah wasn’t waiting for an answer from anyone else. “The werewolf wears more jewelry.”

Ashley groaned.

Gideon half smiled. Okay, that was kind of funny.

“It could happen,” Ted said.

Brand’s tone turned dry. “And there could be another war tomorrow.”

Ted grunted. That seemed to end the discussion. Gideon concentrated on eating. He was three quarters of the way through his plate when he glanced over and saw Savannah’s cup was empty. He glanced at his. His was empty enough that he could make it an excuse. He reached over for Savannah’s glass. “Get you something?” he asked and it was out of politeness.

Savannah stiffened and gritted her teeth. “I can get it myself if I want it.”

Gideon went to pick it up by the edges. Savannah’s hand darted out and grabbed it around the middle. “Ginger ale,” he said. She was doing it again, snapping and snarling to prove something. He reminded himself it wasn’t personal and let it go.

“I can get it myself.”

He stood up and looked down his nose at her, and tugged it up out of her grip. He picked up his own glass and walked behind the head table towards the drinks.

Savannah slumped in her seat.

Brand ducked his head to hide a grin. The tug and pull of Gideon’s politeness and Savannah’s desire to be independent amused Brand. Esme pursed her lips and looked over at her lover. Her foot tapped under the table. Brand should be saying something, not snickering into his plate like a schoolboy.

Gideon came back and set her glass in front of her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he replied and sat back down. He went back to eating.

Savannah went back to her meal. She cleaned her plate, and this was something she knew Gideon couldn’t do. Before he knew her intentions, she shoved her chair back and got up. Esme saw an opportunity. She got up. The two went for seconds.

Gideon paused in his eating to watch. Esme leaned over and said something to Savannah while they were in line. When she sat down, she gave him an uneasy smile and let him refresh her drink and get her chair the rest of the dinner.

After Brand went through the small meeting and everyone broke up to party and for more desserts. Gideon looked around to find Savannah to discover she was already gone.

---

Savannah sighed and shut the door of her home behind her. She set the basket with the dirty dishes on her counter and stared at the floor of her kitchen feeling somewhat miserable, guilt eating at her insides.

She shouldn’t have snapped at the prospect. He didn’t deserve it. She squirmed inside. Esme had told her that her behavior was ungrateful and disgraceful. The prospect was trying to be nice and respectful and she was spitting on his attempts. Savannah winced.

She could handle herself though. She didn’t need help. She’d been on her own for a long time. Her mind shied away from the reason she had been independent for so long. She was finding it difficult to come to terms with the idea that she could depend on anyone, especially a lowly prospect that didn’t know up from down yet.

She didn’t know which way he would jump. Would he be overprotective or would he let her do her job? She wasn’t sure how to treat him and experience had taught her that being bossy and not giving information at least made it that overprotective males would stay put and let her do her job without too many arguments. If she told them things, they’d try to do it for her or interrupt. Not only was it embarrassing for her, it looked bad for the Club. And Brand said a good leader didn’t explain her orders.

She sighed and opened the basket. He still didn’t deserve her snapping at him for things that weren’t his fault. She frowned at herself. Way to go Savannah, first new guy around in years and years that might not have a bad opinion of her and she had to go and ruin it for herself. Couldn’t she do anything in relation to males correctly?

She blinked back tears and put the dishes in the sink. She opened a cupboard, pulled out a paper cookbook, and flipped it open to her favorite recipe. There was one solution to this, cookies. She hoped he liked chocolate chips. Her kitchen light stayed on long past midnight.

---

Gideon shifted the plate he held to one hand and knocked on Beda’s door. He knew it was late and all. He had a feeling that Beda would still be up. The light coming out under the crack of the door told him his hunch was correct, unless she liked sleeping with the light on. He heard her moving around.

He waited, and the locks slid open and clicked. Beda opened the door a crack. She looked at him. She wore a long nightgown and a pastel wrapper that brought up the pale blue highlights in her hair. He lifted the plate. There was a bowl on top of it like a cover.

“I brought you cake,” he said with a smile and hoped the blatant attempt to get in would work. When Esme had seen him getting cake and asked him why, and he’d told her it was for Beda, she’d gotten him a better plate than the paper one he’d had and told him to bring it back and then kissed his cheek.

Then she’d grabbed his arm and looked at him for a long moment. ‘You okay, baby?’ she’d asked. When he’d frowned and looked confused. She’d smiled and nodded. ‘You’re okay.’ He hadn’t understood it. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. It didn’t matter right this minute.

Beda smiled at him. “That was kind of you to remember an old lady.” She opened the door all the way and let him in.

He mumbled something about it not really being a problem or anything and handed her the plate. He didn’t go more than a few steps past the door. He’d thought about asking a question but at last minute decided to turn it into a statement. “Savannah has a key to my place,” he said.

Beda paused in walking to the counter. She turned her head and smiled at him. “Oh, the Club owns these apartments,” she said. She set the plate on the counter and went to find another one. She recognized it from the Club’s stash of dishes. “I’m a caretaker.”

Gideon shifted on his feet. The Club owned these apartments? Like they owned the general store? He looked around trying to figure it all out.

Beda found one of her own plates and picked the bowl off the top of the plate and set it to the side. “Oh chocolate!” she said. She poked at it with a fork. “Not that the boys let me do much care taking. Any more than a little weeding and they start fussing.”

Gideon bit his lip. “There’s a master key,” he said and Savannah had one of them.

Beda didn’t say anything and smiled again. There was no master key. That was a silly idea. She’d given Savannah an extra key when she’d asked for it. But she wasn’t about to tell Gideon that. Beda didn’t know what exactly Savannah wanted it for. However, Beda wasn’t going to stand in the way of Savannah giving Gideon a hard time. It was too amusing, especially, if she got cake out of it. She transferred the cake to her own plate and turned and rinsed off the one from the Club.

Gideon closed his eyes and wanted to swear. There was a master key. Savannah had it and he was doomed. She was his sponsor and the Vice President. She outranked him. He didn’t know if he could ask her to stop and Savannah seemed to lack boundaries. Shit.

Beda brought the plate and bowl back over to him. “Thank you for the cake,” she said with a smile.

Gideon smiled at her. “You’re welcome. There was more than enough to go around.”

“There always is,” she replied. “You best get up to bed. Unlike me, young men need their rest,” she said with a look down her nose.

Gideon grinned at her. “Yes, Beda,” he said and took the dishes. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said and shut the door.

She waited until she heard his feet on the stairs before sitting down and giggling hysterically. Oh, for him to be that worried about it to bring her cake in an indirect way to get information, what was Savannah up to? The possibilities made Beda giggle harder.