"Now, Charlotte, this is a do or die roll, are you sure you want to go through with it?" Carson grinned over his notebook.

"How high of a roll do I need to succeed?"

"To succeed without consequences would be a sixteen."

Charlotte groaned. "No fucking way am I taking that chance, someone else is going to have to try."

"That can't be the only way across. How did they get the chest over there in the first place? You said the walkway cut off, right, not fell away?" Sam, as usual, was actually thinking beyond the current path.

"That's right."

"So there has to be a door somewhere." Ada frowned in thought. "Wait, didn't we confirm earlier that this is an elven temple?"

"Yes, you did," said Carson.

"Do we have any powder? Flour, chalk, anything?"

"You have flour in your rations, yes."

"Great, so I want to scatter that all around the walkway to see if there are any invisible paths."

"I'm going to need you to roll for that."

Ada rubbed her die between her palms before rolling. It landed on ten, and she got a pang of worry. Success with consequences, most likely.

"Success with consequences. You scatter the powder, but the cavern is too windy to tell anything for sure. You think you see a hint of a ledge to your immediate left."

Ada scowled. "Are you telling me we have to try to cross an invisible walkway over an indefinite chasm?"

"Unless you can come up with something else."

Ada looked to Sam, who was burning with determination. "Do we really need to open it?"

"Come on, it's a completely sealed chest. There are no seams, no locks, nothing. You're not curious about what's inside?"

"Of course I'm curious, but is it worth dying over?"

Charlotte paused before taking a bite of pizza to say, "It could be something really powerful, something that will make our quests easier."

"It could also be the plague."

She waved her slice in acknowledgement. Ada was still undecided on taking a step into the literal abyss when someone knocked on the front door. Sam and Ada shared a look; they weren't expecting anyone else for another hour or so. Ada was closest, so she went to see who was at the door.

"Hey! Sorry for just showing up like this, I know we're early." Aidan gave her an apologetic smile, glancing at what he could see of the gathering. "Our neighbour was fighting with his girlfriend, followed by some very loud makeup sex."

"My fault," muttered Noah from just beyond Aidan's shoulder. "It was really bugging me."

Ada stepped back to let them in. "No, don't worry about it. We're just finishing up right now, I think. I know Charlotte said she had to leave by ten."

The game had stopped behind her, and she could hear Sam explaining who it was. All eyes turned when they entered. Aidan did the introductions, sparing Noah, who stood a step away from her casting an uncertain glance around the gathering. Sam gave them both a welcoming grin.

"We're just about done, right, Carson?"

"Yeah, I was going to wrap it up after these turns or we're going to be here all night trying to open this chest." He stopped flipping through his pages long enough to look around. His eyes settled on Noah, and he appeared pensive. "Have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so." But Noah's clenched fist told another story.

Carson just shrugged. "Anyway, do you want to try finding a path before we wrap up."

"Yeah, if no one minds." Ada took her seat once more, scooping her half-full glass of wine for a deep drink. This was going to take some nerve. "Okay, let's go."

So there was a path, and she managed not to fall off somehow. She managed to make every skill check along the way. For whatever reason, the elves had built the path to wind all over the empty space rather than head directly for the raised alcove. The path ended in invisible steps she nearly fell down, but didn't thanks to a bare-minimum roll. And that was where they left it, with her tiefling staring down the seamless, ebony chest. Aidan and Noah listened from the couch, as there were no more chairs to be had. Noah mostly examined the cluttered tabletop, the multitude of dice in all shapes and patterns, the battered notebooks and loose sheets. Aidan, on the other hand, watched in rapt fascination.

Ada didn't miss the way Charlotte's eyes strayed to the two, the slight arch to her perfect brow. Of course she had met Aidan before, which led her to believe it was Noah she was assessing. They would have to stamp that out immediately. For one thing, Ada was certain Sam wouldn't want that kind of crossover in her life, regardless of Noah's stability. No, that was far too dangerous. She made a note to mention it to her later, in case she hadn't spotted the glances. Sam was very into this chest.

One by one their friends headed home, tired and a little tipsy, as were they. But their night wasn't over yet. Well, Ada's mostly was. She couldn't exactly go with them. See, it was the first of October, the full moon. She was looking at a night to herself again; not even Noah could deny the call of the moon. From what she understood, the change wasn't as pleasant for him anymore. He had more coordination and strength in that form, but anything faster than a walk was troublesome.

The month before, Sam had gone by herself. She wasn't comfortable running with him just yet. She was so anxious she ran all the way to La Verendrye Wildlife Reserve, an hour and a half at least in each direction. Aidan made sure they stayed north of town, putting even more distance between them. Just to be safe.

Noah kept his cool, though, and Aidan was given no trouble. Noah had reassured her up and down that he would be on his best behaviour on this run. She agreed and tried to seem confident, but Ada could see the uncertainty behind her eyes at the time.

Noah went upstairs, and Ada placed a palm on Sam's shoulder, leaning into her ear to breathe, "Can we talk outside for a second?"

She nodded, curiosity burning in her gaze as she led the way to the little deck. She didn't go further than the overhang, though, eyes nervously lifting skyward though she couldn't see past the obstruction.

"I th- you okay?" Ada backtracked, eyeing her tense, folded arms.

"Yeah, it's just late. I can feel it." She tore her eyes away and finally looked at Ada. "Sorry, go on."

Ada got a little thrill, realizing she meant she was concerned she might shift. "I'll be quick." She kept her voice low in case the washroom window was open. "Did you see the way Charlotte was looking at Noah?"

Sam frowned deeply. "No, I didn't. She was?"

"Often." Ada nodded deeply, glancing to the illuminated swirls in the back door's panel, searching for movement. "It's the same look she gave the pizza guy last week."

"Shit," groaned Sam. "Fuck, that's bad."

"What do we do?" Ada didn't want to speak for her, this was her best friend, and her people."

She hesitated. "Let me think about it. One of us is going to have to talk to her. Do you think you're up for it? I doubt I'll have time before we leave."

Ada shrugged. "I can handle that. Think it over, we can talk about what I'll say when you get back tonight."

"Don't stay up just for me," she grinned, some of her tension fading. "I won't leave without saying bye."

Sam shot another concerned glance past Ada's shoulder, and Ada got the door for her. It was about time for them to head out. In the kitchen, Ada rested her fingers on the small of Sam's back to get her attention. She paused, turning halfway, and appeared calmer indoors.

"Be safe out there, okay? Just ...keep an eye on him."

Sam smiled. "I will. If I'm not back by dawn, then you can start to worry."

Ada returned it, reassured somewhat. They left not long after, too antsy to put off the shift any longer. So, alone in the house again, Ada began to dwell as she did best. There was still wine left. She poured herself another glass and put on some music—loud enough to be fun, but not so much it would annoy the neighbours. Familiar guitar riffs and fantastical lyrics helped keep her mind off her troubles.

She couldn't deny she was starting to get the inkling of a wild idea. It wasn't a good one, by any means, but as she had no other threads to cling to just yet, she found herself latching onto anything that would keep her mobile. An idea might not be the right word, it was more of a sentiment, a sense of purpose and release that was still potent, even in memory.

Insisting it couldn't hurt to practise, she fetched the case from her backpack.

The evening was balmy, perfect for spending time outside. She settled onto the door mat with her glass of wine to her left, surrounded by hydrangeas. Light spilled through the door's window. It was more than enough to practise by. Even tipsy, she navigated the case with ease, something she had done hundreds of times before.

Her first guess was right, and the wrench fit beautifully. She got her first taste of that thrill, eager for more. She leaned over her hands. Though her eyes were open, Ada wasn't seeing the door. They blurred as she focused on the feel and sound of the pick manoeuvring in the lock. She could visualize the pick and pins with ease, imagining what the subtle movements would look like.

It was almost too easy. It felt as though not a day had passed since her last break-in. She sat straight, sipping deeply as pride quelled some of her fears. Then, she did it over again. The lock, of course, didn't get any more challenging, but the more drunk she was, the more it seemed to.

So it wasn't the best outlet for her anxiety. She could be doing a lot worse. At least she was breaking into her own home. It made her feel like she was doing something productive, something that would help her situation even though there was no scenario in which using this skill was a good plan. Without Hillebrandt's connections, no jury would care if she used crime as a tool to stop more of it. People pretend to love a vigilante, but in reality, they're scared of them.

Ada heard the neighbour let his dog out and figured she should probably head inside before someone started asking questions. No sense drawing unnecessary attention to herself. It was very late, the bottle was empty, and sleep sounded like a very good idea ... after leftover pizza.

The muted slam of a car door stirred Ada. She heard a familiar little whine from the car's engine and smiled, fumbling for her bottle of water. Her phone said it was just after four; Sam was going to be dead on her feet. She heard her enter and beeline for the washroom after locking up. She joined Ada a few minutes later, tired and pine-scented.

"How was it?" Ada murmured, looping an arm around her as she settled her cheek in the dip of Ada's shoulder.

"Good, Noah kept his cool." She slung her arm across Ada's belly and settled her weight over her side. "I left for a bit to really run, he can't do much of the that and I didn't want to make him feel bad. Aidan stayed."

Ada smiled and kissed the top of her head. Then, she paused. "You smell really nice."

She chuckled, muffled against her skin. "You smell like Syrah."

"Yeah, I finished the wine."

Ada grinned at the ceiling; her finger was tingling, and she assumed it was the angle, so she adjusted and worked Sam's shirt up a little further so she could rest her palm over her spine. The tingling spread. Ada was about to comment, but Sam's breathing was slow and deep. She wasn't far from sleep herself, and figured her arm would stop bothering her if she succumbed.

Ada was having a lovely dream, more abstract than anything. Lots of colour and sensation, but little substantial image. Swirling heat, sweet smells, a sense of peace and security. She didn't often dream like this, so when it began, she was completely aware of the fact that she was dreaming. She bathed in the sensation and welcomed the stillness even as the warmth swelled and began a gentle roil, like waves lapping her skin in slow motion. Absolute peace.

While she didn't know how long she was in that dream for, she knew they hadn't been asleep for very long. At first she wasn't certain what woke her. Neither of their alarms was going off. The street was quiet. The neighbours were silent. Sam was curled up against her side, and as she became aware of that, she felt her move again, a short twitch that shook her body. Her hand splayed over Sam's back was so warm it was nearly unpleasant.

Sam's eyes flew open as she sucked in a greedy breath. She seemed confused for a moment, and a splotchy flush painted her cheeks. Her puffy lips parted, but she said nothing.

"What is it?" Ada's voice came out in a whisper.

"I-I was having the strangest dream." She blinked hard a few times before focusing on Ada. "I don't know how to describe it. Like, peach pie? Gosh, that sounds silly." She licked her lips, glancing away for a second. Heat rushed through Ada, and Sam gasped lightly. "Wow, your hand is warm."

Sam's lip dimpled beneath one sharp tooth—not quite a fang, but pointier than it should be. Ada glanced at the clock on her nightstand, then at her, and murmured, "Tell Aidan to wait an hour."

As Sam stuffed her legs into her painting leggings, she screwed up her face in thought. "What should you say to Charlotte? I haven't really thought of anything."

"I mean ..." Ada shrugged. "I could just tell her the truth that he's a recovering drug addict."

"She won't care too much about that, since he is recovering." She popped the button into place, meeting Ada's gaze for a second. "Redemption stories are her favourite."

Ada made a soft sound of consideration. Sam's damp hair swung like a pendulum as she dug for a tee shirt, likely one she didn't care about. "I could tell her he's done some really bad things, and she would be at risk."

"But how would you do that without telling her the whole truth?"

"What was that thing Aidan said to you about Noah's secret? It's his-"

"It's not my secret to tell." She shut that drawer and went for the one below.

"Yeah, I could try that."

She appeared pensive. "Sure, I mean, it worked on me. Then again, I wasn't thinking about getting in his pants."

There was a knock downstairs. "I've got it. Anyway, I guess that's all I can do, right? I can't think of anything else I could possibly tell her."

"Make sure you mention I agree with you on this." Sam finally found a shirt.

"Will do."

Aidan was silhouetted against the frosted pane. He was tired, too, midway through a yawn when she opened the door. He gave a weak smile.

"Hey, how's it going?" His eyes scanned the empty stairs behind her. "Is Sam okay?"

Ada remembered the text and said, "Yeah, everything's fine. She's just about ready."

Ada went to start the coffee maker to hide the light flush to her cheeks. She didn't keep them waiting long, and Ada wasn't forced to make small-talk while so distracted. Sam's outfit was odd, mismatched.

"I'm leaving these ones in the woods," she explained at Ada's amused smile. "Just in case something happens to my bag, you know?"

"Right, makes sense."

"You good?" asked Aidan despite her earlier words. When Sam nodded in earnest, he turned to Ada. "So, you're sure you're all right with checking in on Noah?"

Ada shrugged. "How bad can it be? I make sure he texts me, and if he doesn't, I go check."

Internally, she hated the idea. The last thing she wanted was to be doing a wellness check on a man who could kill her as easily as he breathes. They trusted him, though, and they needed Ada's help.

"I made it clear how pissed I would be if he missed a check-in."

Aidan looked like he meant it. They all knew he loathed being the bad guy, but it seemed not a lot else worked with Noah sometimes. Ada guessed it was hard to care about repercussions when death refused you.

"I'll be fine. He'll be fine. There won't be any problems." Ada cleared her throat and took a drink. "You two be careful. Don't go in there too confident."

Sam grinned. "Of course."

Ada walked them to the door, and Aidan went to the sidewalk to give her a minute with Sam. He even turned his back. Still, Ada shut the door halfway to obscure them.

"Call me when you get there?"

Sam stepped into her arms, smiling as she kissed her. "Definitely. Keep me posted on things here." Her lips sought Ada's again. "I should be back in a few days."

Ada watched them from the front steps until they were out of sight. No car, they were heading for the woods on foot. Neither wanted to risk being towed since they would be gone so long. Ada would have dropped them off herself, but they wanted time to discuss strategy. There wouldn't be any time for that once they arrived.

So there she was, Noah's babysitter. She sure hoped he could keep his shit together until they got back. The last thing she needed was a werewolf relapsing.