Chapter Thirty Six

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As soon as Roger left the room we all flew into an uproar. We had always thought that Roger wished Steve, and us, dead. And to find out now that he didn't, that he never had, and that he desperately needed our help...well, it was more shocking than sticking a fork into a light socket, to say the least.

Steve stood and we all fell silent immediately."Do we help him or not?" Steve asked, and I could tell that he was fighting to hide his true emotions. Whatever he felt, he didn't want it influencing our decision. We all got a chance to voice our true feelings, and that was one of the things that I loved most about Steve's leadership.

"I think we should help him," Lanie said, her voice quiet in the now tight asmophere of the room. "I mean, we were wrong about him for a long time, as long as I can remember, and so I think we owe him. And they obviously need it, they came here when they knew there was a good chance that Steve would just rip his throat out." It's funny how sometimes this seven year old has the clearest mind out of all of us.

"Yeah, but what if he's lying?" It was Mark speaking, and I wanted to groan at him. Sure, I still was not the vampires' biggest fan, but I did know that Ariana wouldn't say something when the consequences could possibly harm Peter.

"He wasn't," Ariana said, and her voice was cool, no matter how tense Peter was where he stood behind her. I knew that he was willing to leap across the room and punch Mark in the gut.

Thankfully, Mark either believed her or was more concerned about Peter getting into a fight with him, because he backed down. "All right."

Jaydon spoke next. "But if we do help them, will they have to stay in this house? I mean, come on, it's bad enough that we already have to share this house with vampires." His teasing smirk was obvious on his face, letting everyone know that he was joking to try and ease some of the tension. And it worked, even though Bishop glared at him for a few seconds.

Steve and Patricia shared a look, and then she spoke. "They could stay in the back house, if we wanted them to. We can avoid mentioning the fact that we have ten empty rooms in the main house. Of course, we might have to let Roger and his Luna stay in the main house. It would only be polite, and put us on a more level ground so that they don't feel too put down."

"Okay, well let's vote," Steve said, his voice heavy. "Everyone in favor of helping Roger, raise your hand." Nine of us raised our hands, which obviously meant that we were helping them. "All right, Peter, would you go bring Roger back in here?" I am ashamed to admit now that I was one of three who did not want to help Roger and his pack.

Peter looked reluctant to leave Ariana behind, but seeing as his father was the alpha and that Steve's request was not really a request, he left. I sort of wanted to run upstairs and hide, but I was surrounded by my pack so I knew that I would be fine.

~~~

Roger and his Luna, a redheaded woman named Martha, moved into the room across from Steve and Patricia and then went out to get their pack settled in the guest house. Patricia requested that some of us take some blankets and things out to them; she wasn't sure how much stuff she had stored out there. Jenni and I offered to, and so we collected armfuls from Patricia's linen closet and hauled them out there.

Jenni knocked softly on the door and it opened to reveal Martha. "We brought some more pillows and blankets," Jenni explained. I was glad that she had decided to do the talking. Martha nodded and we followed her out to the small living room. That was were I got my first real glance of Roger's pack.

I only saw two older people, a man and a woman. There were four small children, three girls and a boy, lying across two teenage girls' laps, looking feverish. There were three teenage boys and a middle aged man who wasn't Roger there also. I quickly turned my attention away from them, dropped the blankets and left with Jenni without casting another glance backwards.

When I got back to my room I hurriedly changed into a pair of baggy basketball shorts and a comfy tanktop before crawling into the safety of my soft blankets and falling asleep. Well, I tried to fall asleep. But all the calm feelings from my swim with Bishop were gone. Instead I was tense and worried. There had never been another pack in our home, never that I could remember, anyways.

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