“I don’t want to go to London, and I don’t want to be alpha,” interjected Julie, “Can I skip the evaluations?” Bless her.

“It’s their prerogative to test every pack member. I imagine they’re curious as to why we’ve sustained so few serious injuries over the years.”

Betsy looked at me. “I guess our resident human is good for something.”

I pulled back the duvet and swung my legs out of bed. “Just remember that when I go down at the first punch this morning.”

After re-applying the shifter scented lotion and getting dressed, I headed down to the hall. The evaluation schedule was stuck on the noticeboard, next to an old ragged poster advertising the spring social. I checked for my name and noted that I was down to fight Theresa, a weresquirrel, at 10.30am. Tom was listed against Anton fifteen minutes later. I breathed a sigh of relief - he had no hope against that canny bastard. The interviews were scheduled for the afternoon. No problem. At all. Honest.

I headed for the canteen and took my place in the short queue for breakfast. Johannes, who had come to us from the pack up in Berwick about five years ago when his alpha had dropped dead of an early heart attack, had clearly been at work. I dolloped burnt bacon, scrambled eggs and some slightly charred toast on my plate. Someone came up next to me and started to do the same. I glanced sideways and realised it was one of the Brethren. I tried not to hold my breath.

“Mmmm, crispy bacon,” she said.

I was about to retort something in Johannes’ defense when I realised that she was being genuine. Odd – even those who normally liked their bacon crispy found Johannes’ offerings hard to handle.

She piled several pieces on her plate and smiled at me from under a dark fringe. “I’m Lucy.” And then added, just in case I wasn’t sure, “I’m with the Brethren.”

“Mack. Cornwall pack.”

“Woman of few poetic words there, Mack. We don’t bite, you know.” She laughed suddenly, “Well, not this early in the morning anyway.”

I’d withhold judgement on that one till they left without discovering my true nature. “I’m sure you’re all very cuddly.”

Lucy snickered again. “Relax. We’re just curious about you. We visit the countryside packs whenever they need help with a particularly vicious otherworlder or arbitration with an in-pack dispute. We’ve never had to come here before and you’ve never needed us. It’s….unusual.”

She was trying to be friendly, not combative. I took a deep breath and tried to match her relaxed attitude. “Not much happens around here. Not like London, I guess.”

“Yeah, beating up vampires and city-slicker daemons whilst dodging the Ministry of Mages is a whole lot of fun.” She added some black pudding to her plate whilst I winced in anticipation of her ruined tastebuds. “I’m sorry about your alpha. It seemed like he was a good guy.”

‘He was,” I replied, swallowing down the unexpected lump in my throat. “When I find out what killed him, I’ll rip its guts out.”

Lucy looked at me curiously and paused for a second before asking, “So what are you?”

I knew what she meant but I wasn’t going to go down that road unless I really needed to. The ways of actual werehamsters were a mystery to me and I didn’t want to get caught out. Deliberately misunderstanding her question, I replied, “Hungry,” and turned to sit down at a nearby table. Now I’ve covered a few niceties you can go away, I willed silently, looking down at my unappetising plate and hoping she’d get the message.

Unfortunately Lucy wasn’t going to give up that easily. She sat down opposite me and began shoveling food into her mouth. I stared in fascination, before picking up my knife and fork and gingerly taking a few bites myself.

“You know what I mean,” she said insistently between mouthfuls. “What’s your shift?”

“I don’t like to talk about it.” With any luck she’d think that I was a small weak were that I was slightly ashamed of. Like a hamster. Then I belatedly remembered that I’d said I was going to rip the guts out of whatever had slaughtered John. Oops.

“Huh.” She looked somewhat nonplussed for a second before continuing, “Well, I’m a honey badger.” That explained the voracious appetite then. I was relieved that it appeared that she wasn’t going to push me any further to reveal my own shift. “It’s a pleasure to find out so much about you, Mack ‘I don’t like to talk about it’.” She took another mouthful and began chewing hard on a piece of bacon.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.” I didn’t want to play the meek and weak card, and I clearly wasn’t much good at it. Lucy seemed like a decent shifter who I’d normally get along well with, despite her Brethren affiliations. Then I thought briefly of Julia’s instructions and realised that if I was to survive this then I had no choice. “You all just look so strong and…masterful.” Oh god, kill me now. She flicked her eyes at me briefly, with a faintly amused expression on her face, before returning her attention to her plate.

I took a few more bites and was about to speak again when a bell sounded. Lucy immediately stood up, suddenly all business instead of focused on her food. “The evaluations are about to begin.” She looked at me assessingly. “I wonder how you’ll do?”

I coughed, staying in my seat. “I’m…er…not much of a fighter.”

“It’s not just fighting skills that we’re after.”

Yeah, you are looking for anyone who’ll help you force your control over every shifter in the country, I thought irritably. “I like it here in Cornwall.” I scratched awkwardly at my neck, then realised what I was doing and pulled my hand down to my side.

“I can understand that.” She pulled slightly at her black shirt, smoothing it down. “I think there are a few of your comrades who want to leave though. Come on, this is going to be fun.” Her eyes gleamed with a spark of gleeful anticipation.

I sighed and stood up too. Better get it out of the way, I supposed.

The whole pack was assembled in the gymnasium by the time I arrived with Lucy. It was utterly ridiculous that everyone was being made to participate in the evaluations, like we were some kind of performing seals here just for the Brethren’s benefit. It was equally galling to see how excited some of them were with some typical shifter tics manifesting themselves. Was that Tom actually pawing the ground? I tried to catch his eye but he didn’t look up. He must still be pissed off with me. I looked up at the gallery and noted Staines, the blonde and the Lord Alpha but didn’t see any others. They were huddled together in some kind of confab. Whatever. Lucy noted my survey and murmured that the remainder of the visiting Brethren were out investigating the area where John had been killed. As if they’d find anything, I thought. There were no tracks and no traces of anything. That didn’t mean that I wouldn’t still find out myself what it was that had ripped him apart like that. I wasn’t stupid enough to not acknowledge that the Brethren would have skills aplenty but I knew that I was simply more invested in finding his murderer than they were.

I took my place at the side with the rest of pack whilst Lucy headed up to the gallery.

Staines began to speak, his voice filling the space. “Tomorrow evening we will confirm the new alpha of the Cornish pack. In the meantime, in accordance with the Way, we shall evaluate all members’ skills to help determine who that shall be.”

I rolled my eyes at the obvious procrastination. It was still going to be Julia. The evaluations were just the Brethren’s way of reminding us that they were in control.

Staines consulted a sheet. “Nina and Betsy, take your places.”

The two girls stepped forward, looking visibly nervous. “Begin,” said Staines.

They circled each other warily. Neither had weapons, in accordance with the rules of the evaluations, but they could shift if they wished. I pegged Betsy as the winner. She had more of a tenacity about her than Nina. It was Nina who made the first move though, pouncing towards Betsy with a feline swipe. She caught her on the side of the head and Betsy took a staggered step back. Score one to Nina.

I looked up at the gallery again. The blonde was making notes whilst Staines frowned down at the fight. Lucy at least looked down more encouragingly. The Lord Alpha was next to them, arms folded. This was the first chance I’d had to study him properly. His hair was pure black, as Julia had mentioned, and he retained a golden all over tan that didn’t look like it came out of a bottle. And, as advertised, his physique was…impressive, I had to admit grudgingly. He towered over the other two, filling the space. I could see what Julie had meant about having those arms wrapped around you and doubted that he ever had any trouble getting a girlfriend. I was equally sure that if he was your enemy then he’d squash you without breaking a sweat or giving it a second thought. I wondered what his were actually was and shivered involuntarily.

On the gym floor, Nina squealed and I returned my attention to the fight. Betsy had her by the hair and on her knees. I smiled, before remembering that I shouldn’t know anything about fighting or appreciate a strong display of it in any way. Meek. Weak. Meek. Weak. Betsy looked up at the gallery for approval and the Lord Alpha nodded. With that the fight was over. The blonde took a few more notes then the next pairing began.

The evaluations went by with unhappy swiftness. I could see that virtually everyone’s techniques lacked flair or skill but couldn’t decide if I was pleased or disappointed that there was no-one to impress the Brethren. Once Johannes’ and Fergal’s evaluation was over – Fergal won as Johannes’ fighting was about as impressive as his cooking – Staines called me and Theresa and we took to the floor. Our eyes locked briefly. Theresa knew that she would beat me with ease for the first time in her life but that she also had to make it look a genuine win, rather than that I was throwing the fight. I wondered if it annoyed her but figured probably not. She was a warm-hearted were-squirrel who I was pretty sure was content with her lot in Cornwall, not least because she had a huge crush on Johannes. Those two were going to be doing some serious mating before too long. Maybe she’d help him out in the kitchen then and we might get some edible food. One could always live in hope.