7: Omega Pride

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The moon temple had seen better days. It sat at the very perimeter of the main pack settlement, on the peak of a small hill overlooking the lake. A strange mixture of classical and gothic architecture, with pointed arches and Corinthian pillars, it was shrouded in a thick layer of ivy and brambles. I knew of at least a few pack members who would have gladly knocked it down for a new addition to their back garden, but Brian had ruled it out of bounds for any further development. Heritage concerns. Gerta gave it a cleaning-out every week or so, but it mostly sat forlorn and unused, except at full moon.

A thin mist hung across the lake, obscuring the mountaintops in the distance. Further along the shores of the lake, a group of figures stood on the lake shore at the water's edge. I could just make out Lister, crouched on the damp sand at the water's edge, very carefully pouring Plaster of Paris into a paw print.

There had been a mess of pawprints on the sand at the creek mouth, and a search of the area had netted some clumps of fur, but that was all. The visitors had been very careful.

Anna sat on one of the benches arranged in a ring inside the moon temple, head bowed in prayer. She didn't notice me until I was almost sitting down next to her. "I was praying for a safe journey."

"I can see that." I admired the carvings in the ornate ceiling of the temple.

"We're not savages like you pack people think we are. We have values." She was staring at me with the same fiery intensity as the night before.

I glanced at my watch. We needed to be at the bus depot by half past nine on the dot, as one of the dealership reps was bringing in the demonstrator bus for a test drive.

"Come on. We need to go now. I've got to be somewhere."

We walked back to the pack village. I spotted Gerta heading our way from the western woods, with two baskets brimming with wild produce.

"The wild asparagus is in season," she greeted me. She smiled at Anna. "There's a lovely patch near the western border. I also found some very nice lobster mushrooms. You must come by my place and get some later!"

"I'll get Laura to drop by your place later."

She watched as Gerta stepped onto the front porch of the pack clinic. There were some bunches of herbs hanging out to dry from under the eaves, and some more herbs steeping in jars could be seen through the windows. "You trust she won't poison you?"

"Well, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

We approached the little tar-paper shack at the edge of the pack village. It was the last of its kind left on the pack grounds; the others had long been demolished and replaced more modern dwellings, but he had chosen to hang onto his childhood home. After 50 years, it was finally being connected to the pack water supply at the next pack working bee.

She looked at the little house, nestled under the chestnut tree next to it, then at the newer ranch houses that belonged to the other pack members.

"Is that the omega house?"

"We don't really refer to the lower ranks by name anymore, but yes, I guess you could call Mike the omega."

"Doesn't he cook for the whole pack or something?"

"You been reading too many human werewolf novels or something?"

"I've read a few. I read the new one that just came out - by Elisha or whatever she's called."

"I've heard some rave reviews about it," I deadpanned. "No. He's the mechanic. He fixes stuff."

"So who does the cooking, then?"

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