"'S not East End," Skip says with a shrug, pouring herself a drink quite happily and taking a seat on the couch. "Least not that I know. James might know 'im, though. He's the one who'd keep up with that."

The pack was only worth noticing when it mattered to her. The daily comings and goings were unremarkable, though from the description, it sounded like someone she would have noticed. Especially if he was now a Guardian.