We arrived in Austin's town a few minutes later. I pushed myself out of the vehicle and looked around. It was not my first time there, but it had been months since I had last gone north with my family.

Almost before I had a chance to plant my feet on the ground, my father came hurrying over to me. "Elise," he said as he hugged me.

"Hi Dad," I agreed. I forced the smile I could feel under the magic.

"How are you doing?"

"Better, now that things are back to normal."

"You seem shaky," he pointed out. I saw him shoot a glance towards Serge, but at least it did not look terribly hostile.

"Yeah, coming h-here, I think."

"I knew Serge should have hosted," he said, taking my arm. "You're freezing."

I shrugged. That was pretty normal when the curse was assaulting me.

My father led me inside, Serge following behind us. "We've got a half hour before the meeting. There's a pretty comfortable waiting room, we can sit there while you tell me what's been happening."

I nodded and let him lead me to a couch beside a tv set in the corner of the wall. I set my backpack down beside me. I heard Serge talk to the receptionist and then move further into the building.

"I've got something for you," my father told me. He passed me an envelope. I smiled. "Matt?"

"Yeah, Moramay gave it to me to pass on."

I smiled a bit and met his gaze fondly, although the letter was a reminder of how I had promised myself I would talk to Matthias about things I did not know how to deal with. "Will he be c-coming this Saturday?" I asked my father.

"Yes. That boy is really dedicated. He asked to have regular days off when he's never complained before."

"Yeah, Matt is something," I agreed. I definitely did not want to talk about Matthias' dedication with my father when I was just coming around to considering that the extent of his feelings might be more than I had always assumed.

It did not help that the curse kept plaguing me for those thoughts, either. I decided to change the subject.

"So, how's Moramay?"

My father smiled. "She's doing fine. She wanted to come today so that she could join you with Pastor Jensen, but Alexi needed help with a project, I did not ask. Alexi does insist you tell her everything next time you see her, however. As does Moramy. They demanded that I go along and report back. If that's fine with you."

"Yeah, that's f-fine. But you have to take notes," I said, only half kidding.

"You know I'd usually have an assistant do that, but I can make an exception if that's what gets me in the door."

I smiled a bit at him. "And you can't fight with Ser..."

I had not been able to get his whole name out again since that one time during his fight with Landon, but I would get there eventually. The curse scrambled over my skin again.

My father sighed. "I know I lost my temper, sweet heart, and I am sorry. I know it makes it harder for you, but it's hard not to be angry. You and your brother are the most precious people in the world to me, and the fact that he hurt you makes it hard to bear."

"H-he really is sorry, dad."

"I know. I know and I promise I will keep my calm."

The curse was pleased with this pronouncement and lightened on me slightly.

I took advantage of the moment and asked, "How's Sean?"

"You'd probably know better than me. He's been going to Serge's territory at every opportunity."

"Really?" I asked. My mind instantly formulated a reasonable suspicion of what he might be doing, although I had not heard Jodi say a word. I would not be able to ask her directly, but if I put the bug in Tabitha's ear I could just sit back and see what happened.

"I'm surprised you don't know."

"He hasn't been visiting me," I told my dad. "You'll have to ask him."

My father frowned. "He never actually said he was visiting you, I just assumed. Although it does seem a bit odd for Sean."

I smiled. I probably would have kicked him back to dad's house if he had been there that much annoying me. The nice thing about not living with him is I definitely liked my brother more now.

My father and I conversed about neutral topics for a while, until it was closer to time for the meeting. I picked up my bag and followed him down the hall.

We entered a rectangular room with plants clogging the windows, a round table in the middle and several couches arranged on the far end. Austin grinned at us as we entered. "Welcome, friends. You know the drill, Nick. Elise, would you like to sit with us, at the couches at the end, or wait in another room entirely?"

The curse preferred the other room and hated the table, so I opted for the middle option. "Couch?"

"Very good, he agreed.

It was a good option. The curse was not too upset with me, but I could still hear everything. I had been trying not to worry about the eastern wolves and the challenge had pushed them from my mind for a period, but my old fears were starting to creep back.

Besides the three leaders, there were a few from the pack councils and various assistants. I quietly pulled out my journal and began to detail my experiences coming to Austin's pack.

The meeting initially caught my attention, but as it dragged on my mind began to wander. The quick and informal meeting they had before the challenge had been much more dynamic. This one was all order and discipline.

I surreptitiously pulled out the novel I was reading. My attention bounced around and I did not get much out of either the book or the discussion.

Finally, the meeting was over and my anxiety spiked. I replaced my things in my bag while the three leaders and many of the participants sat around talking for a good ten minutes after it adjourned. I waited in a sort of limbo, wanting to hear what Pastor Jensen had say and wanting to rush back to Serge's house to hide from the rage of the curse.

Finally, Serge stood up and I leapt to my feet. "Ready to go?" he asked me.

Never. "Yes."

My father walked with me and we followed Serge through the offices and out to his truck. I climbed in and my father said, "See you there."

I nodded. The curse clutched my heart.

Serge started the truck and off we went. It took only a couple of minutes to arrive. We pulled up into a small church parking lot and the three of us walked inside the entryway.

My heart beat faster and I could feel cold sweat as the curse tried its worse.

Perhaps it was a demon and simply sitting in a church for an hour would exorcise it, I thought sardonically.

It proved my early assessment of it doing its worse wrong and amped up my punishment.

My father noticed my distress and grasped my arm to help me along.

"Good afternoon, Elise, Nick, Serge," greeted the pastor jovially as he darted out of his office.

He was a slightly rotund man with short black hair that was just a bit greyer every time I saw him. His medium tanned face bore an open expression that put me at ease, at least as much as the curse would allow.

It helped that he was already familiar to me. I had seen him at most holidays for most of my life, as well as at a lot of pack weddings.  I had missed Easter this year since it had fallen on the nineteenth day of my struggle in dealing with the curse.

"No one else is here right now, we might as well head into the fellowship hall. More room there than my cramped office."

"Sounds good, pastor," my father agreed and we all followed him to one of the long tables in the centre of the room and I sat down.

"Want some coffee? Austin mentioned you have an interest in history and once I get talking, you might have a bit of a task getting me to slow down," Pastor Jensen joked.

"Please," agreed my father as he and Serge walked over to the coffee machine that had been primed and was ready to go.

"How about you, Elise?" my father asked.

I considered. "Yes, please, Dad." I did not drink coffee a lot, but the warmth seemed like a good idea at the moment. Hopefully the caffeine would not set me more on edge.

The three men returned to the table and my father pushed the warm beverage towards me. He knew how I liked it, sweet and creamy enough to counter the bitterness. I revelled in the heat.

"So, where should I start?" asked Pastor Jensen.

Serge paused. "We're interested in any accounts of successful removal of the curse, or failures, for that matter. Anything that might help us better understand the magic might be useful."

Pastor Jensen mused. "Hmmm. Well, I'm certain you're aware that the curse has seldom been used, insofar as records show. I did some research after you called to refresh my memory. There aren't many North American accounts and no written accounts dating back before the eighteen hundreds, although there certainly were a number of stories of the matter passed down amongst our people, but the written European accounts date back considerably further. Most of the accounts we do have are instances in which the perpetrator of a heinous crime would have been put to death if the curse had not been an option."

I saw my father nod, but he kept his expression studiously blank of blame towards Serge and I appreciated it.

"There's no whisper of from where the curse originated, but some theorize that it has been around since before the first nations originally came to North America. Clearly, humans with werewolf magic have ranged quite dramatically throughout history. Perhaps the first North American werewolves came over on the Bering Land Bridge, or perhaps the magic came with Vikings that crossed the ocean. There are multiple theories, but who can say? The curse is very old, probably as old as werewolf magic itself and there always seem to have been strict societal rules around its general use, but those were not always conformed to."

I saw Serge shift just slightly, presumably with discomfort. I exhaled shakily, trying to maintain my own calm.

"But there have been other instances where the use was less than ideal?" my father asked and I felt gratitude that he was running interference.

"There are a couple. The best recorded were several during the Spanish Inquisition. Suspected heretics were placed under the curse and forced to confess. Most of them died, but in one young woman was stolen away and saved from torture and death, but once away from her master she apparently simply wasted away."

The pastor hummed. "Just let me get my notes."

He rushed away to his office. My father sighed. "Do you think this is actually going to help?"

"We can only hope," Serge said without much more optimism than my father.

I felt like my father was getting to the point of acceptance finally.

My eyes explored the room I was in. On the far wall from the door was a kitchen, complete with the ever essential coffee maker. Facing away from the entrance, the left side was a row of windows, a couple of plants sitting on the sills. The right side had a pair of long bulletin boards, one above the other. The lower one had a calendar and a bunch of announcements. I was too far to make out much of the smaller font.

The upper one was decorated. Usually I had seen it with a seasonal theme, but right now it just had a bunch of decorative verses stapled on it.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. John 14:27

I could really use a piece of that peace right now and a huge helping of not letting my heart be afraid, I thought, and the curse made me shiver anew at my thoughts.

My rebellious eyes continued wandering the room.