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—"

"A loss of control?" suggests Rocco. "I mean, do you think they know what they're doing?"

Jamie gives a disheartened shrug in response.

I get up from the coffee table and start to pace, just as Safiya points out, "The rust-colored wolf that they caught. That must be Eli."

"And it's just been wolves from Lobo?" I question, pivoting on my heel. "That can't be a coincidence."

"Well, sure," Midge offers, her eyes trailing me as I cross the floor again, passing in front of the TV. She taps her bare feet against the floor, her hands fists as they rest atop her skirt. "But what motive would they have otherwise? Humans go to those fights, too. I can't imagine it'd be some sort of vendetta."

"Maybe it's not a motive. Maybe it's just the disturbance you said you're feeling."

I stop pacing to look at Midge. She's got this grimace on her face that almost looks like she's in physical pain, her shoulders braced as her brown eyes scrutinize the floor. I frown at her, wishing I could wipe that look from her face, then turn instead towards Jamie. "Ricky hasn't been caught yet, I don't think. He's still out there somewhere. Injured, albeit, but probably still dangerous. Do you know him? Do you know where we might find him?"

Jamie nibbles at his bottom lip. "I don't know him, but I know his scent."

My eyebrows furrow. "His scent?"

"Yeah," Jamie offers. "I could track him. I could find him for you."

Safiya scoffs loudly. "Well, that's all fine and dandy—but what are we supposed to do when we do find him?"

I grin at her. "That part's obvious, Safi. We're gonna be bait."

When the sun's setting and the streets are calming, Midge finds me outside, on the fire escape. I left the apartment to get some fresh air, 'cause everyone's been arguing for the last couple hours about how we're going to pull this off without getting killed, and the clamor started to bug me. You'd think Midge (who, yes, is included in the aforementioned everyone) would take a hint, but I guess not. I don't know why I even thought about it. Midge may be pretty observant, but she still misses a lot of important stuff.

She doesn't even knock first, just startles me when I hear the screech of my window being shoved open. When I shoot her a questioning look, she just waves shyly and climbs carefully down, coming to a seat beside me on the black iron stairs.

Midge glances down toward the street, letting out a breath. "This is pretty high. You're not scared?"

The question's not even worth my energy. I look sideways at her, raising an eyebrow, and she frowns back at me, crossing her arms. "Fine," she mutters.

"Is there a reason you're out here?"

Midge's frown deepens into a pout. "Yeah. To tell you it's a pretty dumb thing, what you're doing."

"You mean," I correct her, kicking my legs in the air a little, "what we're doing."

"What I'm doing only because you'll die if you go by yourself," she refines, shifting her gaze outwards again. The streetlights have started to turn on, flooding the sidewalks in gold, a pleasant foreground to the paint-streaked sky. Beside me, Midge huffs. "I mean, werewolf bait? Seriously? Have the past few nights taught you nothing?"

"This is what you wanted, Midge—what your prophecy said. That I would help you find out what's wrong with Atlanta. So that's what I'm doing," I tell her, swallowing down the thought that her eyes look nice in this light. I mean, really, they do. Like gemstones. But that's irrelevant. "We're risk takers. Gotta take risks."

"Uh huh," Midge says. "Sure."

I draw my legs up, turning towards her, my back to the road. I lift my hair from off my forehead, offering a smirk. "You know, if you're scared, Midge—"

"Your birth mom, huh?" Midge cuts me off, and I choke a little in surprise. She gives this smug smile like she's pleased at my discomfort, leaning back to rest against the brick. "When Safiya mentioned her, you said it wasn't the time. But I'd like to know."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Well I'd like to know the cure to cancer, but hey, we can't know everything."

She folds her arms tighter around herself, gritting her teeth. "Grey."

"Midge."

"Grey."

"Midge?"

"Oh, come on! If we're gonna work together, we have to know each other!" she outbursts, hopping to her feet. I roll my eyes and follow her, standing with my weight against the railing. Midge seems to become wary of the significant amount of inches I have on her, swallowing and taking a step back. She lets out a breath, lifting her eyes to me. "I mean...I want to know you."

I blink, then rub my eyes. "Midge..."

"Please?" she says softly.

A breeze floats by, and I shiver a little, watching a lone stranger roam the streets below the fire escape. "My birth mom...she made a deal with my dad, Alvanor, to have his child if he'd make her immortal. Then she made a deal with Sybil to give her her firstborn if she'd give her infinite money. So when I was born, she left me to those two morons and went off to travel the world or go to Mars or do whatever the hell she wants to do."

I expect her to laugh. I mean, I wouldn't even be hurt if she did. It's a funny story, really, and in the end, what does it matter? My mom got what she wanted, even if she left me as collateral damage. But it's okay. Sybil and Alvanor took care of me all these years. It's okay now.

Anyway, she's supposed to be laughing.

But she's just staring at me.

No, legitimately staring, with a slight furrow to her eyebrows and that annoying little frown at her mouth. She's not laughing. In fact, she actually seems...solemn.

I don't like it.

Cautiously, I lay a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Midge?"

And I like it even less when she reaches up to grab my hand where it touches her shoulder, yanking me towards her. I let out a breath of surprise as she tightens her arms around me, burying her head in my chest. I just kind of stand there for a moment, wondering why this pink thing is so close to me, until it dawns on me that I should probably hug her back. So I do, awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," Midge says against me. There it is again, that nice, clean floral smell of her hair, like she rolled around in a meadow for an hour. I wrinkle my nose, trying to hate it. "I had no idea."

"Midge," I reply with a scoff. "It's not a big deal. She visits sometimes, so it's not like...oh,  I don't know."

And for the next few moments, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing, not that I ever am. I sigh, glancing through the apartment window for a moment. It looks like everything's calmed down; Rocco and Safiya appear to be having a civilized conversation while Jamie toys with the television remote.

"Thanks," Midge says then, taking a step back from me and patting her hair down. "Thanks for telling me."