Winter returned for a moment in fat fluffy flakes that coated everything in sight, but would be gone by noon the next day. The streets were full of slush the ploughs just couldn't quite scrape away. This was Sam's least favourite time of year, despite it signalling the arrival of spring.

She stood before the bathroom mirror slipping pin after pin into her hair to secure every last strand. Her hands trembled. Once or twice she dropped one into the sink and had to fumble to retrieve it before it went down the drain. Her pale face was ghostly, eyes wide in her reflection.

In an hour or so, she would be out in the cold with Aidan on a mission to retrieve supplies they needed to apprehend Noah. There had been a lot of planning in the days prior. Chasing him wasn't working, nor was tracking to get ahead of him. No matter what, Noah was just out of reach. They needed a new tactic, something different to try. It was Sam who came up with the idea. That said, it hinged on another, who was not there with them. Could they pull it off without her help?

If Sam listened carefully she could just catch Aidan's deep, measured breathing from the living room as he meditated. Sam hadn't tried it yet, but he swore it helped speed healing, among other things. Though the wounds had all healed over, he was still sore from the beating he'd taken protecting Sam all those weeks ago.

Three firm raps at the front door made Sam freeze, and Aidan's breathing faltered. The couch creaked under his weight. Sam started for the door, but paused.

"I've got it."

Sam waited in the doorway at the top of the stairs with bated breath. She barely dared hope that it was Ada. It could just be her neighbour with a question or a request. Ada had made it perfectly clear she wasn't interested in helping, even though she didn't know what they were about to do.

She couldn't quite make out the voices from downstairs over the wind through the open door. A few seconds later, Aidan called for Sam with a note of trepidation. She took a deep breath, pocketed the last of her pins, and made for the stairs.

Aidan glanced over his shoulder and stepped back to let Sam by. Ada was bundled up against the weather with her fists deep in her pockets and tension pinching her eyes. Snow had built up in her loose hair and speckled her pale lashes.

"Ada, I thought you weren't coming."

Ada's hands balled in her coat pockets. "I wasn't, but I can't sit back while you do something so colossally stupid. You'll get busted."

"I wou-" Her protest stuck to her tongue. "Okay, maybe, but I'm glad you're here."

Sam tried not to take it personally and stepped back to let her out of the cold. It rolled off Ada's body, and her nose and ears were bright pink. She probably walked over. Sam wanted to hug her, but Ada probably wasn't in the mood. Instead she simply gazed down the bridge of her nose at Sam, a critical pinch to her lips. The couch squeaked in the other room as Aidan settled back into it. Whatever he was thinking he kept to himself.

"Can we talk?" she asked after discarding her jacket and boots. She gave her hair a shake to loosen the snow.

"Sure, come on."

The two climbed the stairs and rounded the banister for Sam's bedroom. Her tension mounted. She was relived, sure, to know that Ada was there, but the same thought made her just as nervous. All this time and she still hadn't reconciled her guilt.

Right away, Sam went to turn on her speaker and selected a random playlist at a moderate volume. Ada frowned between it and Sam. Sam sighed.

"I don't want to be overheard."

"By who, the SCRS*?" Ada perched on the edge of the bed, and Sam stepped a few paces away.

"No, by Aidan."

She frowned and took on an only half-joking tone. "What, does he have super-human hearing?"

"Something like that ..." Sam folded her arms. "I really do appreciate your he-"

"I haven't agreed to help you yet," she said, holding up a hand to slow Sam down. "You haven't even told me what you're planning or why. I don't like being kept in the dark like this. Is it a trust thing? Do you trust him more than me?"

"No, definitely not. It's just complicated. I want to tell you, I do. The first th-" The words died on her tongue as quick as they came. "Fuck!"

Sam was starting to think it wasn't a coincidence. She tried changing the words, starting in a different place, but no matter what, she couldn't find a way to say that the first thing she wanted to do after figuring out what she was was to tell Ada the truth.

Ada squinted at her, not unlike someone interpreting a painting. "You're acting really strange."

Sam held up a finger and reached for her phone. She started to type her thoughts, but her hands began to shake so violently that she dropped it. It bounced off her foot and landed face down on the rug. Sam cursed again and scrubbed a hand over her face.

"I don't know, Ada." Her voice broke. "I'm trying, I have so much I want to say, but ..."

Ada rose and crossed the short distance, intense eyes seeking Sam's own. She was a rock in Sam's maelstrom of emotions. She didn't come too close, but she did lower her voice so as not to be overheard.

"I don't trust him, I don't like what he's doing to you."

Sam shook her head. "It's not his fault."

It was Noah's, but she clearly couldn't express that.

"What did he do to you that makes you so afraid to tell me." The sternness returned, a protective flame in her eye.

Sam gaped for a moment; she hadn't considered it from that perspective. "Nothing, he didn't do anything to me. I mean it, he hasn't laid so much as a finger on me. I'm not afraid, I literally cannot tell you. I don't understand it, I didn't know it was possible until just now, but whenever I try to talk a-"

Until she changed the subject, she could form no more words. She threw her hands up in frustration and dropped onto the bed. Ada frowned in concern. Sam turned out her palms in silent apology.

Ada spoke slowly, waiting for the punchline. "You're telling me you've got some ... spell, or something, keeping you quiet?"

Sam shrugged—she wanted to know the same thing. "I guess?"

Ada blew a sigh, pushing her hair back with her hand. She remained just a couple of steps ahead of Sam with an ever-softening expression. A glimmer of hope formed in Sam's chest.

"This is fucking bizarre. You're not making much sense."

"Not a lot makes sense to me anymore."

For a moment she paused, then sighed deeply. "If I'm going to help you, I need to know what we're doing and why."

Sam nodded a few times. "I'll try my best. Aidan's brother, the one who is missing, is pretty ... sick. He needs to go back home so he can get help, but every time Aidan tries to reason with him, his brother attacks him." Sam paused, elated to have gotten even that much out. "I'm going to help this time. Aidan is going to try to restrain him, and I'm going to have a sedative ready in case he's too violent. We need your help to get inside the vet office, and maybe the medicine cabinet. Once this is done ... well, things should become fairly normal again. Will you help?"

Kingdoms were built in the time Ada was silent. "Let's go, I'm driving."

* Service canadien du renseignement de sécurité (SCRS), or the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS), is the primary national intelligence service here, rather like the CIA.

The car ride was more silent and uncomfortable than anything Sam had sat through before. Ada had insisted on driving; why, Sam didn't ask. She was in the back seat so Aidan could have more leg room. She was tired, she just wanted to sleep, but they had to get this done. There would be no rest tonight.

Ada was tense, knuckles white around the steering wheel, her other hand the same on the gear shift. Aidan glared out the window. Sam didn't know that for sure, she couldn't see his face, but he had that air about him. He was comically large in her tiny Honda.

They parked on the side of the street behind a snow-covered truck and swiftly exited the vehicle. Sam stuffed her hands in the pockets of her puffy jacket—formerly her spare. They shook as Sam's anxiety mounted. They were really doing this. She was really doing this. Burglary. Was she really any better than Noah?

Yes, she was, she hadn't mauled anyone.

Ada slipped her hands into fingerless gloves that exposed only the tips of her fingers and bound her hair up in a tight bun. Sam had never seen it so orderly before. Ada tapped her back pocket, nodded to herself, and then led the way down the street. Aidan lagged behind, leaving Sam to hustle to keep up in the middle.

The wind was sharp on Sam's bare cheeks and bit at her thighs through her jeans. It really wasn't very cold, but Sam was already adjusting to the mild daytime temperatures. She blinked away snow every now and then.

The veterinarian's office was a block away from Sam's car, a shotgun-style building right on the corner of the intersection. The white siding bore a mural of happy-looking pets. They strolled into the parking lot, and they all gave the street a quick sweep. Satisfied, Ada turned on her heel and stopped.

"I have some conditions. One condition."

Sam could feel Aidan's eye roll that preceded his irritated groan. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

She gaped between the two of them, torn for an instant between annoyance with Aidan and a little hope. If she was reading her right, Sam knew where she was going with this. Ada turned her attention to Aidan, who had become a statue at Sam's side. Legs planted a little apart, arms crossed, with his nostrils flared. The muscle in his jaw jumped a few times.

"I'm not asking for a lot," she began coolly. "I just want to be let in on things. It's not fair to ask me to commit a crime without an explanation."

For a second her eyes flicked to Sam's, who blurted out, "I agree."

Aidan glanced between them, then around the empty street behind him. He deflated slightly.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," he muttered, puffed once, and stepped closer to Ada, who stood confidently. "If I agree to this, it comes with rules."

"I understand."

"We decide how much to tell you."

She nodded.

"You cannot pass these words, or any of what we reveal, onto anyone or anything. No telling your sister, no writing it in a journal." He waited until Ada nodded her comprehension. "The cost of revealing anything is your life."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?" she quipped, though Sam got the impression she might be a little nervous now. When he didn't answer, Ada looked to Sam for a response.

"He's not," she murmured.

Sam wished she knew what her face looked like, because the colour drained from Ada's cheeks. Her throat bobbed once. She focused on Aidan once more, jaw set.

"Fine."

Aidan assessed her again, and then said, "I want to be very clear: there is no way back if you agree to this. Should you walk away after you learn the truth, you will never truly be alone. The ... my father will have someone watch you for the rest of your life to make sure you keep the secret. I am not exaggerating."

Ada checked with Sam once more, just to be sure she wasn't pulling her leg, and then said, "I get it, dude."

To Sam's surprise, Aidan burst out laughing and shook his head. Not quite amused, he seemed more taken aback than anything. He offered a hand, and Ada shook it.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but all right. Deal. Now can we get this over with?"

"Hang on," Sam interjected. "It was that easy and you made me wait two damn months!?"

Ada gave Sam a bemused smile as she stomped over to Aidan.

"It's not that easy, I'm taking a huge risk by telling her."

"So is she!"

He nodded. "I'm counting on that."

Sam opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, then shut it once more before heaving a frustrated sigh. He had a point, as much as she hated to admit it. Mutual risk was a damn good way to keep a secret.

Ada spun again and trotted up the steps to the door with a closed sign in its window. "Keep watch."

"You got it."

As Ada crouched and fished the black case out of her pocket, Sam turned to the street from the top step. She kept her phone unlocked in one hand with the phone app pulled up. If anyone asked, they had just left the bar and she was calling them a cab. It was early enough to be believable but late enough that the street was empty.

Ada murmured to herself from time to time, frustrated little blurbs as she worked away at the deadbolt, speckled with profanity. Sam grinned to herself and chanced a glance back. Ada was working away, head turned to the side again so her left ear was near the lock, her brow scrunched in concentration. Even in the dim light, Sam could see her perfectly.

Aidan was leaning against the end of the next building in its shadow as he scanned the street for signs of life. He didn't glance back even once. Snow was building up in his curls and on his immobile shoulders.

The door clicked, and Ada gave a quiet, victorious cheer. The door swung in as she rose and turned to Sam. Tension mounted.

"Let's go."

Sam followed her inside, slipping on a pair of thin black gloves of her own. All those heist movies and books she had consumed were about to come in handy. She followed Ada into the dark maw.

Ada strolled quickly through the building, glancing into rooms as she passed without touching anything. She went right to the last door on the right, which Sam knew to be the examination room. She followed, eyes lingering on the cheery posters and photos along the walls as she passed.

The darkness was absolute for anyone but her. Ada clicked on a tiny flashlight as she skimmed the room. The metal table sat to one side, a desk on the other, and behind it, a tall white cabinet with windows and a large lock on the front. It held row after row of vials. Hope budded.

"This shouldn't take me long," Ada whispered as she examined the cabinet. "Hold this, would you?"

Sam took the proffered flashlight and held it over Ada's hands so it illuminated her work. Sam got to watch her fully from this angle. Ada manoeuvred the pick with minute finesse. She stared without seeing.

This lock took no time for her to get into, and she hissed a victorious, "Fuck yes."

The doors swung open to reveal tiny vials with their tiny labels and a slew of drug names she didn't recognize. There was one specifically they were looking for—acetylpromazine. Her research had told her it was an antipsychotic used regularly to sedate dogs, cats, and even horses. Considering how fast werewolves seemed to burn through drugs, a horse sedative sounded like a good idea.

Sam started at the top, Ada at the bottom, and they worked their way to the middle. There was probably some sort of organization system, but as Sam knew nothing about veterinary medicine, it seemed only to be a jumbled mess. On the third shelf down, she found her prize. The vial was no larger than a lip balm tube, seemed too little to be of use. If she hadn't read up on dosages, she might have worried more. Instead, she pocketed the vial and bustled over to the counter. She scanned for the drawer labelled Syringes and added a moderately large one to her loot. That was all they needed.

Ada locked up the cabinet once more and scrubbed off her fingerprints with her glove. She did the same to every doorknob they passed, even the ones they hadn't touched, then lingered in the front doorway as she examined the dark building. What she was looking for was beyond Sam. When she seemed satisfied, she locked up and repeated the process.

"Got it?" asked Aidan in a hushed tone as he approached.

"Yes, let's get out of here."

Ada led the way once more down the street to where Sam's car was parked. The trio filed in and Ada wasted no time pulling out of the parking space. They drove in silence once more, though the tension this time was barely a simmer. Ada's shoulders were tight as she drove to her place and parked on the street.

Sam got out with her and followed to the door on the side of the building. Ada unlocked it—with her keys this time—and a motion sensor inside turned on the light. Sam squinted up at her as she leaned on the frame.

"Thank you so much," said Sam in earnest. "For everything tonight."

She smiled a little, but it fell. "Listen, Sam, about that ... I meant what I said to Aidan, and I'll always be here for you, but please don't ask me to do that again."

A void opened in her stomach. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's all right, I just can't keep doing that sort of thing." She didn't sound upset, just tired. "Can we meet tomorrow? I think ... I think I'm ready to talk about it."

"Yes, please. And I'll sort out what I'm allowed to tell you before then."

Sam's lips parted, but she didn't know what to say next. Sam got a glimpse of her smile, then felt her arms encircle her waist.

"I missed you," she murmured into Sam's hair.

"I missed you, too," she echoed, melting into her embrace. A heartbeat passed, and she placed a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead, but before she could react properly, Ada let go.

"I'll call you tomorrow." There was a coy grin on her face as she entered the stairwell.

"Goodnight." Sam waited, her heart hammering away, until the door closed and the lock clicked before heading back to the car.

Aidan turned as Sam approached and got in. "All is well?"

"Were you watching?" she asked, brow cocked.

He scoffed lightly but didn't deny it. Was he scoffing because she accused him, or because she should know he was? Either way, she figured the answer was yes and resolutely followed the street until Ada's home was out of sight before doubling back around. Sam hated lying to her, even if it was deception for Ada's safety, and their own.