xiv.

i'm just dreaming / counting the ways to where you are
five for fighting, "100 years"

(Julie)

Double patrols. That was her punishment for sneaking out to see Lee. And though she was only three days into her indefinite sentence (Sam had been that furious with her that Julie reckoned that she probably wasn't going to see the inside of her garage for at least a month if Sam had her way) she was already yawning and all but falling asleep on her feet as she walked into Elliott's kitchen a half hour before her next shift.

The right side of his face dipped into a frown. "You don't look so good, Jules."

That would be because she hadn't slept for more than four hours before having to get up and run again. Double patrols were exhausting, and her sisters were already rubbing it in with all their sudden extra free time now that she was filling in for most of them. Nobody (except for Emma, who was loyal to a fault) was on her side. Not even Bonnie.

Julie scowled and threw Elliott a vulgar gesture, despite knowing there would be hell to pay for it later when he spilled all to Sam. Stupid imprints. "Better than you," she bit back uncharitably, moody with exhaustion and from missing her friend. To hell with it. "Stepped in to take any more punches lately?"

He didn't rise to the bait. He never did, unlike Paula, who was always ready for a rip-roaring fight whenever needed. "Funny. Tried to give away any more tribe secrets lately?"

Touche.

Julie dropped unceremoniously into a seat the table and shrugged. "He'll figure it out. I know he will." You can't say that you don't want him to, she added silently. "Things will be better when he does."

"Do you really want him involved in all of this?" Elliott asked, his voice deceptively neutral as he kept his face down and elbows deep in flour on what was probably his tenth attempt at making bread. It was kind of a running joke how bad of a cook he was; Paula was convinced they were all going to starve before the week was out.

Paula said that every week.

"Things will be better," Julie said again. "Better than letting him think I'd ditched him."

Elliott looked up then, showing her both sides of his face which had been injured by the two people he loved most to make his point. One side scarred from claws, the other bruised a hideous purple-blue from his cousin's fist. "We all have to make sacrifices, Jules."

She looked away. "Save me the lecture."

He shrugged and continued kneading his dough, annoyingly calm. "If you want."

What she really wanted was to tell Lee that he'd packed enough force behind his punch that the left side of Elliott's face probably wasn't going to heal for a week. He would have been pleased, she thought, after wanting to get his revenge for so long — although she hadn't allowed herself to seem too satisfied about it. Her own lingering pride that Lee had dealt such a blow would only get her into a different world of trouble when her thoughts gave her away. Because Elliott was pack, just as Kam was, and imprints were honoured, revered. They ranked as high as the Alpha herself, separate and yet the same. For Julie to be pleased Elliott had been hurt was equivalent to wishing pain on them all.

(Not that it stopped her from being so rude. He deserved it. And Lee would never forgive her for switching teams if she started being nice now.)

Stupid imprints.

Of course, she knew she wouldn't have thought like that had she imprinted on Lee. Sure, she'd toyed with the idea at first — entertained it, even, after learning about it. Through her sisters' memories, she had felt Samantha's crippling desire for Elliott and Jade's sickening adoration for Kam as if it had all been her own, and she'd wondered what it would be like if she'd felt like that . . .

Now, days later, Julie still wasn't sure which emotion had first struck her when she'd looked at Lee: the relief, or the disappointment that nothing happened. But, after snapping back into herself that night, she also remembered how she'd silently thrown up a thankful prayer to the spirits. And she had meant what she'd said about it being nine kinds of messy, even if Lee hadn't understood.

Yes, she would have felt differently if she had imprinted. And eventually Lee would have, too. But Julie knew him as well as she knew herself, and whatever part of themselves they would've been allowed to keep after accepting that kind of bond would have resented it for the rest of their lives. She was sure of that.

Whatever it was between them, whatever she felt (and whatever he didn't feel), Julie wanted it to be real.

Besides, it was kind of a pathetic look — her sisters falling over their feet for their boyfriends, and their boyfriends turning into puddles of muck at near mention of their significant wolf. Lee would have just laughed at her for it, anyway. He would have laughed at himself.

Maybe.

No. It was better — that she hadn't. But that didn't mean that she had to roll over and submit to Sam's will. It didn't mean that she couldn't be friends with him anymore. It didn't mean that she didn't have a chance at something real, whatever 'real' was going to be for her now whether she imprinted on somebody or not.

It didn't mean anything. It didn't matter what Sam said.

Speaking of. "Where is everyone?"

"Uh—" Elliott straightened, looking towards the window thoughtfully as he mentally accounted for everybody. "Sam's at a Council meeting—" he explained, because clearly his whole life began and ended with the girl (stupid imprints) "—and Jade's on patrol with Emma until you switch out with her. Kam's at home studying. Summer school or something. And Paula's off doing whatever she does when she goes off on her own, I don't know." He huffed. "Am I supposed to add the yeast before or after the water?"

"Who cares," Julie replied, picking at one of the burnt muffins on the table and knowing full well what Paula did when she went off on her own. Sulking, brooding, looking for a brawl. "Order a pizza."

"Do you know how much we've spent on take-out in these last few days alone?" He shook his head. "No. No more pizza."

Jules wondered whether her teeth would crack on the muffin if she threw the whole thing in her mouth to get it over with. It really was awful, and tasted nothing like blueberry. More charcoal, like she'd held it above one of their bonfires. "So? I think Paula wants to get into the delivery boy's pants. At least she wouldn't be so pissy if you gave her that."

Elliott looked like he was trying to bite back his smile, but Jules wasn't so sure underneath that brilliant bruise of his. She really wished that she could see Lee to tell him; he would have been as pleased as she was proud. Maybe she could slip him a note.

"Still not worked it out with her, huh?"

"Nope. Not going to either."

"I really think—"

Jules groaned, cutting him off. "Please don't. And don't get Sam involved over it again either. She's already pissed with me."

Elliott let loose his smile at the mention of his girlfriend (no — his fiancée) and deflated instantly. Gross. "Okay."

Stupid imprints.

Sam's tie to Elliott was most definitely the reason she had come down so hard. She was more than just pissed. Less than a minute after phasing back that night and listening to her rage, Julie had felt a hundred different orders snap into place around her, over her, inside her. A hundred different orders telling her that no, she couldn't see Lee anymore; no, they couldn't be friends; and no, Julie, you're not going to spend the next week trying to find any loopholes, because there won't be any.

Except there was a loophole — just one. Julie couldn't seek Lee out, but that didn't stop him from coming to find her. He had said as much within the four walls of his bedroom to her.

The only thing Sam could think of to stop that was to put Julie on indefinite double patrols, because she had about as much chance of stopping Lee from doing anything as she did the wind blowing. And if Lee couldn't find Julie, who was stuck running perimeter lines for the rest of her life, then Sam considered it a problem solved.

But if Julie had come to know anything about her friend in these last few months, it was that when Lee wanted to do something he could not be stopped. Plus, she had to go home sometime. Bonnie couldn't be left on her own for so long.

And if Lee knew that it was Sam trying to stop him, then — well, he'd only resist all the more.

Julie was banking on it.

All she had to do was wait.