“Ham called today to tell me there’s a small party of oneys camping by the stream.” “Oneys,” the one-natured, is what the two-natured Weres call regular humans. I knew Hamilton Bond by sight. His farm was adjacent to the Herveaux place, and Ham farmed a few acres for Alcide. The Bond family had belonged to the Long Tooth pack as long as the Herveauxes.

“Did they have your permission to camp there?” I asked.

“They told Ham my dad always gave them permission to fish there in the spring, so they didn’t think to ask me. It might be true. I don’t remember them, though.”

“Even if they’re telling the truth, that’s pretty rude. They should have called you,” I said. “They should have asked you if it was convenient for you. You want me to talk to them? I can find out if they’re lying.” Jackson Herveaux, Alcide’s late dad, hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who’d casually allow people to use his land on a regular basis.

“No thanks, Sookie. I hate to ask you for another favor. You’re a friend of the pack. We’re supposed to watch out for you, not you for us.”

“Don’t worry about it. Y’all can come out here. And if you want me to shake hands with these supposed buddies of your dad’s, I can do that.” I was curious about their appearance on the Herveaux farm so close to the full moon. Curious and suspicious.

Alcide told me he’d think about the fishermen situation, and thanked me about six times for saying yes.

“No big deal,” I said, and hoped I was telling the truth. Eventually, Alcide felt he’d thanked me enough, and we hung up.

I went inside with my coffee cup. I didn’t know I was smiling until I looked in the living room mirror. I admitted to myself I was looking forward to the wolves’ arrival. It would be pleasant to feel I wasn’t alone in the middle of the woods. Pathetic, huh?