You push through another door and enter the main room. It's the one place that still looks like a warehouse. Big and open with concrete floors and metal beams zigzagging overhead.
It's also full of werewolves. Talking. Laughing. Eating.
Three fold out tables have been set up in the middle of the room. The first one is covered in pizza. The second in drinks. The third has a bunch of sides. Everything from garlic bread to chicken wings and even a couple of small salads.
Everyone's helping themselves. Marco is in the middle of it, eating as much as he can. Vicky and Ed are as far apart as the room allows. The Alpha is seated on one of the sofas beside Minjo and is overlooking the scene.
"Gideon Mercer!"
A girl in a bright pink dress runs at you, dark hair bundled into lopsided pigtails, face flushed with happiness.
It's Isabella. Goes by Iz, Izzie. Really, anything except Bella. She's five years old. She likes sparkly things, princesses, and you, though you're really not sure what you've done to earn a spot on that list.