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title of Elder, Riley is safest there. The home is well protected."
    It was protected and then some. It was the only reason I agreed to allow Aurora, Ava and Joseph to live there. They were the last of the Coni Clan of shape-shifting birds-of-prey—except for Phineas, who was off who knows where, doing hell knows what. He'd been gone for five weeks, and I missed him.
    "Are you supposed to be wandering around with all this going on?" I asked before I could wonder if the question was rude or not.
    Keenan's lips twitched. "Trust me, I am well protected."
    "So we're at a standstill on this," Tybalt said. "Even if the Bengals challenged Marcellus now for Elder, Riley would fight in his place, and he stands a high chance of winning. There's no benefit to an early challenge."
    "No, there's not." Marcus drummed his fingers against the tabletop, his irritation coming out in that short, jerky motion. "We have no way of knowing when the challenge will be issued."
    No way of knowing when the last protection force for the city might suddenly find itself without half its members, leaving all humans vulnerable to attacks from goblins and half-Bloods.
    "Is there a way to identify the potential challengers and, you know, encourage them to back off?" I asked.
    "Everything we know so far is hearsay," Marcus said. "There's no proof, only rumors. And without proof of wrongdoing, the Assembly will punish any action taken, even as a pre-emptive measure."
    "I wasn't talking about busting kneecaps or leaving horse's heads in their beds."
    Marcus bristled (almost literally), and I realized he didn't understand the film reference. He probably thought I was making some tasteless joke about Jenner's death (which I wasn't). Shit.
    "Evy means talking to them, not bullying them," Wyatt said, stepping in to save me before I crammed my foot any further down my own throat. "Informing them of the consequences of any actions taken against Riley."
    "Threats will only strengthen their resolve," Marcus said. "It's not a good idea."
    "So we do what?" Milo asked. "Sit and wait and hope they don't cheat when they send someone to fight Riley?"
    "Yes."
    "That plan sucks ass."
    Marcus's mouth twitched. "Regardless, it's our only course of action right now. Our people don't need more inner turmoil, so we'll wait for the challenge."
    Milo snapped the tab off the top of his soda can, then flipped it between his knuckles a few times. "I fucking hate waiting," he said.
    We all hated waiting, but on this we had no choice.
    #
    Our table broke up a while later. Keenan whisked himself away to parts unknown, probably his aforementioned family home. Tybalt and Kyle headed off to their respective rooms; Wyatt wanted to stop by Operations and talk to Astrid and Baylor about everything going on; Marcus shuffled off somewhere with an intense look on his face. I was too keyed up to sleep, so I wandered toward the opposite end of the mall and the exercise and training rooms down the far leg of the U. It took a few seconds to realize Milo had fallen into step next to me.
    "How's your head?" I asked.
    "Nothing a few hours sleep won't cure."
    "So why aren't you heading toward the bunks?"
    "Too much energy to sleep."
    I know the feeling. "Spot you?"
    "Sure."
    The exercise area was two rooms. The first was full of weights and various stationary bikes and other machines. Almost anything you could want in a gym. The second room, at the rear of the first, had a dance barre on one wall for stretching and coordination techniques, and blue mats covered the floor. I'd spent almost a solid week in that room, mostly on my ass, while Phineas kicked it hard trying to get me back into fighting form after I'd been tortured for three weeks.
    Ah, memories.
    Two other people where there, riding the bikes, and I smiled through a strange sense of déjà vu. Shelby and Jackson had been working out in the gym the very first time Milo and I ever saw it, and there they were again. Shelby and Jackson were both