That's a Good Question

16: what do I smell like?

"This could be catastrophic," is the first thing Midge says to me when she steps into my apartment and sees Rocco sitting on my couch. He's trying to wrestle the squeaky toy from Jamie's mouth, an odd look on his face like he's not sure if he's amused or not. Jamie, on the other hand, is clearly enjoying himself, his teeth happily clenched around the rubber.

Yeah, I'm still not convinced that he's Bullet. Bullet's...Bullet. And Jamie's...Jamie.

"Why?" I say to Midge. We're in somewhat of a huddle in my kitchen, close enough that no one can hear what we're saying and close enough that I'm slightly uncomfortable. Midge's gaze keeps switching between me and the congregation I've called to my living room: Rocco, Safi, Jamie and his squeaky toy. "Just because he's human?"

"Precisely because he's human, Grey. He hates us! He should hate us."

I shift my weight, resting my shoulder against the fridge. "You don't know Rocco like I do. We're like brothers; we've known each other since preschool. Rocco's one of the few humans I know that isn't at least slightly afraid of me. Trust me on this one, Midge. He might be helpful."

Midge tugs on the ends of the two braids she's done her hair in today, squeezing her eyes shut. "You're positive?"

"Yeah, Midge. Positive as my blood type."

"Stop."

"Yes."

Midge's eyes open, landing once more on Rocco. Her gaze lingers on him for a moment, before she sighs and takes a step back. I'm not sure why, but I feel my breath regulate itself again. "Alright," says Midge. "Did you fill him in on everything?"

I nod at her. "Yeah, and he agrees with me. Jamie's our prime information source right now."

Midge tucks a stray hair behind her ear and mutters an agreement, coming around the kitchen island and towards the living room. I follow after her, taking a seat on the edge of my coffee table. Jamie's still happily squeaking his squeaky toy, while it looks like Rocco's given up on taking it from him. Safiya, sitting a significant distance from both of them, looks like she wants to punch something. Something with freckles and two-toned eyes.

"Jamie?" I say.

He doesn't reply. The squeaking continues.

Midge, Safiya, and Rocco all shoot me an expectant look, so I just murmur under my breath and reach forward, squeezing the squeaky toy to silence it. Jamie stops, his eyes meeting mine, then drops the toy from his mouth with a small, defiant whine.

"There you go," I say. "Could we talk to you for a minute?"

"A minute?"

"Well, more than a minute. A while. Okay?"

"Okay," Jamie allows, folding his legs underneath him. He ducks his head a little, a snowy strand of his hair sweeping across his forehead as he does. "A while."

I glance at Midge, who then directs her gaze at Jamie and says, "When we were at Lobo last night, you said the wolf that tried to hurt us...his name was Ricky?"

Jamie meets Midge's eyes with a nod. "Yeah. Ricky."

"Do you know why he was trying to hurt us?" I ask.

Jamie pauses to think about it, tapping a slender finger upon his chin, his gold wolf's eye squinting shut. "Well, I'm not sure, but Ricky's not the only one. The other day, Eli was like that too. He started biting at the trainers, and escaped. Then it was Ricky. I don't know what's wrong with them. It's not even...anger...it's just—"