“Got something!" one of the men yelled."Is it Mike?" another called, rushing from our sides.As everyone converged on the scene, Nick's voice rang out, choked with barely containedlaughter. "Forget it. It's—uh—nothing important.""What the hell do you mean?" the first man said. "Maybe this is all a joke to you, son, but. . ."The rest of the sentence trailed off as we burst into the clearing to find one of the searchersbending over a ripped shirt. Torn clothing littered the ground, more hung from bushes. Nick heldup half a pair of white panties and grinned at me."Wild dogs? Or just Clayton?""Oh God," I muttered under my breath.I walked over to snatch the underwear from him, but he held it over his head, grinning like aschoolboy."I seeParis , I seeFrance , I see Elena's underpants," he chanted."Everyone's already seen much more than that," Jeremy said. "I think we can safely resume thesearch."Peter plucked Clay's shirt from a low-hanging branch and held it up, peering through a hole inthe middle. "You guys can really do some damage. Where's the hidden video when you need it?""So this—uh—wasn't done by wild dogs?" one of the searchers said.Peter grinned and tossed the shirt to the ground. "Nope. Just wild hormones.”

“Torn clothing littered the ground, more hung from bushes. Nick held up half a pair of white panties and grinned at me."Wild dogs? Or just Clayton?""Oh God," I muttered under my breath.I walked over to snatch the underwear from him, but he held it over his head, grinning like a schoolboy."I see Paris, I see France, I see Elena's underpants," he chanted."Everyone's already seen much more than that," Jeremy said. "I think we can safely resume the search."Peter plucked Clay's shirt from a low-hanging branch and held it up, peering through a hole in the middle. "You guys can really do some damage. Where's the hidden video when you need it?""So this--uh--wasn't done by wild dogs?" one of the searchers said.Peter grinned and tossed the shirt to the ground. "Nope. Just wild hormones.”

“Xavier leaned forward. "Sarcasm aside, you don't need a guy like that, Elena. Maybe you think you do - only female werewolf and all that - but hell, I've seen what you can do - tied to a chair, up against a male werewolf. You can do that, you don't need some fucking psychopath like Clayton Danvers-"He stopped, noticing my gaze."He's standing right behind me, isn't he?" Xavier muttered."Uh-huh."Xaview tilted his head back, saw Clay, and disappeared. He reappeared on the opposite bench, pressed up against me. I looked over at him, eyebrow raised. He swore under his breath and teleported to the far end of the other bench. Then he stood and turned to Clay."You must be-""The fucking psychopath," Clay said."Er, right, but I meant that in the most respectful way. Believe me, I have the utmost regard for, uh...""Raging lunatics," I said.Xavier shot me a glare."Oh sit down," I said. "He didn't bring his chain saw.”

“A knock came at the door. Everyone looked up. Elena's nostrils flared and she leaned over to whisper something to Clay. "Fuck," he muttered. "Keep talking, Jaime. It's only Cassandra. She can wait. Forever, if we're lucky." "I heard that, Clayton," Cassandra said as she walked in. "Who the hell forgot to lock the door?" Clay said. "You were the last one in," Elena murmured. "Damn.”

“Wild dogs? Or just Clayton?-Nick Sorrentino (Bitten)”

“What’s this?” Nick said. “Bedtime?”No one answered him. I kept my eyes closed.“You look positively content, Clayton,” Nick continued, thumping down on the floor. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Elena is cuddled up with you, would it?”“It’s cold in here,” I murmured.“Doesn’t feel cold.”“It’s cold,” Clay growled.“I could start a fire.”“I could start one, too,” Clay said. “With your clothes. Before you get them off.”

“I just... I understand you might want to start dating more seriously, and that means dating someone from town. But if you're going to do that..." This time he took a long drink of coffee, and the mug was still at his lips when he said, "I like Daniel. He takes care of you."I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?"Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-""Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet?”