None of the girls made any sign they knew how close death came to their heels. Not Neph, not Madison, not Bailey, especially not Anika. They walked along, having some kind of fun, laughing, paying less attention to their surroundings than each other, or at least that was the image they portrayed. Kevin knew Neph, at least, usually maintained a healthy level of paranoia despite...Was that ice cream they had? But he couldn't fault her if she missed what stalked them in broad daylight, not when the bastard's specialty was staying unseen.

Who knew how Phyber got their scent, but the Dancer Ragabash was, for once, doing his job without fucking it up. Scouting, trailing the pack's prey back to their den, where hopefully he'd find the traitor. His lupus form was less a wolf and more a mangy, sickly mutt, one of who knew how many in the city. His movements were just jerky and erratic enough to hint that he might be rabid. He could smell blood and he was eager.

Too eager. A huge white-furred lupus stepped out of the shadows between the girls and Phyber, but he waited till they were out of both sight and earshot before he turned back to homid to watch Phyber impassively. Rage like electricity, like an approaching thunderstorm about to break, lurked just under the surface, but for once he didn't have even a snide laugh or curse. "Well, old buddy. You've stuck your nose in it again, haven't you? Cormac isn't here to bail you out this time, though."

The Dancer stopped short, staring gape-jawed at Kevin, first in lupus, then slowly in homid as well. "It's been months, and now you show your face. All for some chicks? You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Kevin shrugged lightly, using the movement to flex and stretch the clenched muscles of his shoulders and neck. The electricity was building. It wouldn't take much to break. "Yeah, well. Fun as it is to watch Cormac chase his tail, I owe someone a debt and Phyber buddy? You done fucked up. Cause long before Cormac can even get his ass over here in response to whatever alarm you have set up? I'm gonna have your head as a fucking trophy."

Phyber backed up a step. "We're in broad daylight. You don't have the balls anymore."

Kevin grinned, the kind of grin that Phyber knew intimately. The kind he always had before his worst crimes. He leaned in closer to Phyber and said in an exaggerated whisper, "Tell you a secret, Phyber, buddy? Come here, I don't wanna have to shout it. You listening?" When Phyber nodded slowly, Kevin laughed, a laugh that turned into a loud, eerie, maddening howl as his form turned hulking and hairy. Glabro, then Crinos. He could manage a few words, and he said in a deep growl, "Gonna enjoy this."

Not that the former Dancer was in any shape to understand it. The howl, one of the White Howlers' greatest weapons, left all those who weren't of White Howler blood mad with fear. It wasn't something that the former Glasswalker, not a favorite of the Hive, had been taught to resist. Phyber had been willing himself to attack for a few minutes before the howl. Now? He was back in Lupus, but not to fight. His mouth foamed as he snapped the air like a rabid dog, and though he was having trouble making his limbs behave, he turned tail to flee. Quickly.

Like a snow-white wraith, Kevin was after him in an instant.

* * * * * * * * *

A little while later, that same white-furred Crinos Garou dumped a twisted Metis Dancer corpse frozen in its Crinos form outside Oni's house. As he shrank back to his homid form slowly, as his temper cooled, he snapped at whoever was nearby, "Don't just stand there, help me get rid of this where it won't fuck shit up or attract more of the bastards. I didn't just turn this asshole inside-fucking-out to traumatize the girls myself."