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“I’ll take this one back to the Chambers. Grandfather is watching some of his old movies and will appreciate a fresh snack.”
    Simon dipped his head in acknowledgment.
    “Nyx and I will come by later to sort out whatever might be useful and dispose of the rest.” Still smiling, Vlad ripped the rifle out of the man’s grip, got a good hold of the heavy winter coat, and headed back to the Sanguinati’s part of the Courtyard, running easily as he dragged his prey.
    Following the trail the humans left, Simon studied the broken junipers that had been planted as a screen to keep the Courtyard private from cars driving by—and from unwelcome eyes that might be watching from the park on the other side of the road. Standing on his hind legs, he shouldered between two bushes.
    The trail led from a car parked on the shoulder of Parkside Avenue, its flashers blinking. The car would be reported when the next snowplow went by, but no one would come asking questions until morning—if anyone came by at all.
    He trotted back to his prey.
    Several Wolves were happily ripping the other body apart. Elliot waited near the unconscious man. When Simon approached, Elliot looked in the direction Vlad had gone.
     Elliot growled.
     Simon growled back, showing his teeth.
    
     True, the Sanguinati didn’t use the meat, but after Vlad’s family had dined, he would call Boone Hawkgard, the Courtyard’s butcher. Tomorrow there would be a discreet sign in the shop’s window informing the
terra indigene
that special meat was available
.
    A change in the man’s breathing indicated a return to consciousness. Now it was time to eat.
    Front toes elongated into strong, furry fingers with heavy claws. Simon and Elliot tore open the winter coat, ripped off the scarf, flannel shirt, and T-shirt, and shredded the jeans and long johns from thighs to ankles.
    A gasping breath. The man opened his eyes.
    Baring his teeth, Simon bit into the belly while Elliot tore out the throat, cutting off the man’s scream.
    Rip. Tear. Gulp the hot, fresh meat. Simon pulled out the liver and gleefully devoured it, leaving the heart for Elliot. He ate his fill, then moved away, shrinking his front toes back to Wolf form as he rolled in fresh snow to clean his fur. When his friends had eaten their fill, Simon howled the Song of Prey. Any other Wolves who were out running tonight would swing by for a bite or two.
    We share,
he thought, looking at the arm he’d torn off the body at some point during the feeding. He picked it up and retraced his steps back to the Courtyard’s main road. Then he trotted off. He crossed over the Courtyard Creek Bridge and passed the Wolfgard land, finally leaving the arm in the Corvine part of the Courtyard. The Crows would appreciate an easy breakfast tomorrow.
    A minute later, Elliot caught up to him, lugging part of a ribcage. His sire might not like sharing a kill, but when they had moved to Lakeside, Elliot had agreed to follow Simon’s lead.
    Yes, the Crows would eat well in the morning. And by the time everyone else had had their share, there wouldn’t be much left of the monkeys to burn and bury.

CHAPTER 2
    T
his is a car, this is a train, this is a bus. . . . Skull and crossbones means poison. . . . Shh. Be quiet. This is another lesson. . . . Pay attention, cs759. Watch what happens to someone who is poisoned. . . . This is a dog, this is a cat. . . . This video shows a woman riding a horse. . . . This is a child, this is a hammer. This is what happens to a face when . . .
    A rumbling sound jerked Meg out of a restless sleep. Heart pounding, she stared at dark shapes defined by gray light, trying to remember where she was while she listened for footsteps in the corridor that would indicate the Walking Names were coming to begin the day’s spirit-breaking “pampering” and lessons.
    The caretakers and other staff in their white