“Sookie,” Alcide said, “some new members for you to meet. This is Annabelle Bannister.”

I’d never met anyone who looked less like an “Annabelle” than this woman. I shook hands with her, of course, and told her I was pleased to meet her.

“You know Ham, and you’ve met Jannalynn, too, I think?” Alcide said, inclining his head back.

I nodded at the two at the foot of the steps.

“And this is Basim al Saud, my new second,” Alcide said. It was pronounced “bah-SEEM,” and Alcide trotted the name out like he introduced Arabic people to me all the time. Okeydokey. “Hi-dee-do, Basim,” I said. I held out my hand. One of the meanings of “second,” I knew, was the person who scares the shit out of everyone, and Basim seemed well qualified for the job. Somewhat reluctantly, he extended his own hand to mine. I shook it, wondering what I’d get from him. Weres are often very hard to read because of their dual nature. Sure enough, I didn’t get specific thoughts: only a confused blur of mistrust and aggression and lust.

Funny, that was pretty much what I was getting from the misnamed Annabelle. “How long have you been in Shreveport?” I asked politely. I glanced from Annabelle to Basim to include them both in the question.

“Six months,” Annabelle said. “I transferred from the Elk Killer pack in South Dakota.” So she was in the Air Force. She’d been stationed in South Dakota and then reassigned to Barksdale Air Force Base in Bossier City, adjacent to Shreveport.

“I’ve been here two months,” Basim said. “I’m learning to like it.” Though he looked exotic, he had only the faintest trace of an accent, and his English was much more precise than mine. Going strictly by the haircut, he was definitely not in the armed services.