David chuckled, but I could tell he wasn't satisfied. We slipped into his car, both of us moving slowly when we found new pains and tried to find a comfortable way to sit. Oh God, I hurt all over.

"I mean it, Rachel," he said, his low voice filling the small car after our doors shut. "It's not fair to ask you to put up with this crap."

Smiling, I looked across the car at him. "Don't worry about it, David. I like being your alpha. All I have to do is find the right charm to Were with."

He sighed, his small frame moving in his exhalation, then he snorted.

"What?" I asked, buckling myself in as he started the car.

"The right charm to Were?" he said, putting the car into gear and pulling from the curb. "Get it? You want to be my alpha, but have nothing to Were?"

Putting a hand to my head, I leaned my elbow into the door for support. "That's not funny," I said, but he just laughed, even though it hurt him.

Two

Dappled patterns of afternoon light sifted over my gloved hands as I knelt on a green foam pad and strained to reach the back of the flower bed where grass had taken root despite the shade of the mature oak above it. From the street came the soft sound of cars. A blue jay called and was answered. Saturday in the Hollows was the pinnacle of casual.

Straightening, I stretched to crack my back, then slumped, wincing when my amulet lost contact with my skin and I felt a jolt of pain. I knew I shouldn't be working out there under the influence of a pain amulet, lest I hurt myself without realizing it, but after yesterday I needed some "dirt time" to reassure my subconscious that I was alive. And the garden needed attention. It was a mess without Jenks and his family keeping it up.