Wolf at the Door (Lorimar Pack) (Gemini Book 5) Read online

Page 6


  A loose shrug rolled through his shoulders. “All we can do is try. We’re already in Summer. How far can the Halls be?”

  The trek reminded me of summer vacations spent with Meemaw and Pawpaw. The sun beat down on us, and I turned a lovely shade of lobster. Humidity thickened the air, and sweat dampened our clothes. I stopped every so often and plucked a handful of interesting flowers or dug up what I hoped might be a medicinal root. Enzo was missing out on his big adventure, and I wanted to bring him souvenirs.

  The thought of him left in the king’s clutches tightened my chest. We had done the right thing, but at what cost? Enzo was a powerful witch. I had to believe he could hold his own until we returned. He had known the risks, the same as Isaac, but still. He was a good man, or there was goodness in him. I wouldn’t be responsible for snuffing out that spark when Miguel hadn’t managed to in all the years of Enzo’s indenture. He deserved a chance to be his own master, and that meant I had to trust his will to live was at least as strong as my will for him to survive.

  We would make this quick, and he would be okay. He had to be. Or else there would be hell to pay.

  “See that pond?” He pointed to the distant horizon. “We should head there and refill our water bottles.”

  We had drained all but one during our hike, and it wasn’t going to last much longer. Grateful for an excuse to rest my feet, I plopped down on the grass and watched him set to work filling the bottles, dropping purification tablets designed to neutralize magic, pathogens and microbial contamination into each before tightening them and repacking them. He sat beside me and stretched out his legs when he was done.

  “It’ll be dark soon.” The afternoon had zipped past, which made me wonder if we had, for lack of a better word, wished away the distance between us and the Halls in exchange for daylight. “We should think about where we want to spend the night.”

  “Tents are too conspicuous, so we each have a sleeping bag. We’ll have to find shelter and make camp there.”

  Summer was the perfect, blue-sky snapshot taken straight off a postcard. Rolling fields of lush grass. Ponds and streams perfect for skinny-dipping. Bushes heavy with ripe fruits. Bountiful wildlife. All it needed was a dozen log cabins and a stable full of horses to be the perfect grounds for a kids’ camp.

  “Where are all the fae?” We had yet to cross paths with any, at least as far as I was aware.

  “Not sure,” said the resident expert. “There must be cities and towns. It can’t all be countryside.”

  The gleam in his eye was one I recognized. “You want to search for them, don’t you?”

  “It’s a chance to see where my people came from.” He didn’t bother denying what we both knew to be true. “It’s a temptation. A strong one.” He shot me a half smile. “But I can resist.”

  “Maybe after…” I started, unsure how to finish. This wasn’t a sightseeing trip. There would be no time to waste once we secured Tiberius. Rilla and her forces would bear down on us all the way back to Winter, and that put us squarely in the king’s hands. From there we had to extricate Enzo and beat a hasty retreat home, where I would face yet another firing squad.

  Thierry might wield more clout than I had given her credit for, but when it came to prison breaks, upper management got tetchy.

  “Maybe.” He saved me from myself.

  After plucking what resembled a dandelion splattered with ketchup and tucking it safely into my pack, we resumed our walk. A path had been cut into the countryside, making it easier to navigate and also more dangerous if we crossed paths with hostile fae. Summer was Seelie territory, and they were, in theory, the lesser of two evils, but I worried that the unique qualities making this trip possible might also appeal too much to the famously avaricious nature of the fae. Perhaps taking the high road was overrated. We might do better tomorrow by sacrificing comfort for safety by wading through the grasses.

  I hope Faerie doesn’t have snakes. Or ticks.

  “What do you think about holing up over there?” Isaac brought my attention to a copse of what might have been the distant cousin of weeping willow trees, had they mated with a briar patch. Sharp points stood in stark relief, crimson against the white bark. “Nothing will bother us in there.”

  “How do we get in?” I had a few ideas, but all of them would end in blood and tears.

  “Leave that to me.”

  We reached our spiky sanctuary as night fell, and Isaac wasted no time performing a partial shift of his left hand. The skin grayed and hardened up to his elbow, and tiny flecks of mineral caught the moonlight. This form I had seen before. A monolith. He walked up to the lethal tendrils hanging in thick bunches from the trunk and gathered enough in one hand to make an opening. He gestured me forward, and I ducked under his arm. Flattened grass filled the small clearing. We weren’t the only ones who had thought this place made for a good sanctuary. I just hoped we were the first here tonight.

  The magic-spiced air made scents difficult to parse, but the wolf assured me no one had been here for hours, and I trusted her senses over mine any day. We waited for Isaac to join us and then made camp. We rolled out sleeping bags and organized supplies for dinner. Isaac, being Isaac, had brought along an invention created with this trip in mind. It was a single burner like the kind found in small hotel room kitchenettes, but how it was powered, I had no idea and figured asking him to explain it would end with me blinking at him and him sighing. For both our sakes, I accepted its existence and didn’t complain when he used it to boil hot water to pour into our MREs.

  I wrinkled my nose when he passed me my dinner. I couldn’t help it. It smelled more like preservatives than protein, and my stomach rebelled.

  “You have to eat to keep up your strength.” Isaac didn’t take offense at my insult to his cooking. “This can’t be worse than the prison food, right?”

  Hating to contradict him, I admitted, “Actually, the food was the best part. I got rare steak for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They hoped to bribe the wolf into good behavior, I think.” I frowned. “That or they didn’t realize wargs are omnivores. Either way, I didn’t complain.”

  “It’s not steak, but I brought you something that might take the edge off.” He presented me with a foil packet. “I’ve never made jerky before, so if I screwed it up, I apologize.”

  The scent of meat hit my nose, and my mouth watered. A growl rippled through the air, not from my throat but from my gut. I shoved the first stick into my mouth whole and swallowed before remembering I ought to chew in this form. Coughing didn’t slow me down as I popped in three more pieces before the wolf was sated enough to allow me to put up the rest for later.

  “Does that mean it passed inspection?” His eyes were wider than usual. “I have more if you want it.”

  The temptation to glut had me sawing my bottom lip over my teeth. “No. I shouldn’t. We might need it later.”

  We tucked into our meals, and the nighttime sounds accompanied our chewing. Sharing a meal with him under the stars… It was nice. Peaceful. Comfortable. Since he had cooked, I cleaned up the resulting mess and performed a quick perimeter check.

  “Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked when I noticed him rubbing his eyes.

  “No time.” He shook his head. “Just don’t yawn, and I’ll be good for the first watch.”

  “You’ve got to replenish your energy.” I tapped his shoulder, and he swayed. “You shifted into the frost giant aspect twice and the monolith just now. We can’t afford for you to burn out this early in the game.”

  He grunted manly noises at me, a weak argument from a guy already half asleep now that he was sitting down in the dark with a belly full of food.

  “Sleep.” I nudged him, and this time he reclined onto his sleeping bag. “Good boy.”

  “Wake me if you need me.” He made it an order from behind closed eyes.

  “You’re cute when you go all alpha,” I teased.

  His lids cracked open. “You think I’m cute?”
/>
  Sighing heavily, I tossed a handful of grass at him. “Sleep.”

  He did, and damn if he wasn’t smiling all the while.

  Despite the exotic locale, first watch proved just as boring as it would have been back home. At least until a small throat cleared beyond the curtain of the willowy thorns. I inhaled, and the scent of fur and blood snapped my instincts on high alert.

  “Might I claim sanctuary with you?” an equally tiny voice asked. “I am no threat to you, that I swear.”

  A glimpse at Isaac proved he was out cold. He didn’t snore, he was too dignified for that, but his lips had parted in sleep. Tearing myself away from him, I approached the edge of our defenses and stared down into the dark. Warg eyesight was good, but it wasn’t good enough to pick the speaker from the night.

  “Stand where I can see you,” I ordered softly.

  A small creature hopped into a beam of moonlight, and my jaw ached as my canines pushed at my gums. It had been so long since I’d shifted, and the wolf wanted to hunt. The urge was almost maddening with easy prey in sight.

  “Will this do, Sharpy?” he inquired.

  Sharpy? I ran my tongue along the edges of my lengthened teeth and figured it was a fair enough nickname. “What are you?”

  “A púca.” He twitched his nose at me. “What are you?”

  Púca. Hmm. If memory served, they were a type of animalistic fae that changed into two or three predetermined shapes. All non-predatory. They were identifiable by the black fur they kept in all forms and the limited scope of their shifts.

  “I’m a warg.”

  “Never heard of it. You smell like a predator. Do you eat bunnies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh bother.” He worried his front paws together. “How about goats?”

  My wolf’s palette was not a discerning one. “Pretty sure I would if the opportunity presented itself.”

  “Horses?” His beady eyes brightened with hope. “How do you feel about those?”

  “They make me nervous.” Horses got antsy around wolves, and their powerful hind legs meant wolves got twitchy around them too. “Trust me. A nervous warg is a bad thing.”

  “I see. Well.” He limp-hopped back into the shadows. “I’m grateful you didn’t eat me.”

  “Wait,” I called after him. “You smell like blood. What happened?”

  “A trap.” He stretched to one side, exposing a raw wound down his hip. “I didn’t see it in time. I’ll be fine by morning, but the cats have already picked up my scent.”

  “Cats,” I hissed. Those were worse than horses. “Are they dangerous?”

  “To you?” He twitched his nose at me. “I’d wager not. You smell odd. It’s likely they’ll avoid you. I’ve sought shelter here before. That’s the only reason I chanced it.”

  The trampled grass proved more than one desperate creature had found refuge here. Who was I to turn away another in need? Besides, the worst that could happen was I’d fall asleep, shift and eat him. As long as the reverse wasn’t true, I felt safe offering him sanctuary.

  “Can you get in by yourself?” I wasn’t keen on tangling with the thorns when I had avoided them earlier. “My friend helped me inside, but he’s sleeping.”

  “Oh, I have a way in.” He gave a glad hop. “Do you mind?”

  “Help yourself,” I said, charmed by his fluffiness.

  Moments later, grass and dirt sprayed like confetti onto Isaac’s ankles, and the púca popped his head out of a hole I was pretty sure hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  “Are you sure you won’t eat me?” His pink nose quivered. “Not to brag, but I’m sure I would be quite delicious. There were a great many cats after me, you realize.”

  “I’ll try my best to resist,” I vowed. “Hop over here, and let me take a look at your wound.”

  “Is that a good idea? What with my blood and your sharp teeth?”

  “Wargs are half human.” Then again, that might not reassure the little guy if he knew anything about humans. “It would take a few minutes for me to shift into a wolf. You’d be gone before that happened.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Mollified that his murder would inconvenience me enough to give him a head start, he hopped on unsteady legs over to me. “It’s rather gruesome, isn’t it?”

  I brushed his fur aside and examined the shallow scrape curving over his hip. There was just enough blood to tantalize a predator, but not enough that his life was in danger from the loss.

  “Too bad Enzo isn’t here,” I murmured. “He’s got poultices for all occasions.”

  “There’s no need to fuss,” he assured me. “I’ll heal by the morning if I live that long. I’m Leon by the way. Leon Aloysius Nodbottom.”

  “I’m Dell Preston.” I shook the fluffy paw he offered. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Our conversation tapered off as his eyes grew heavy. I smothered a grin when he snuggled against Isaac’s side for warmth and drifted off to sleep. When it came time to swap shifts, I didn’t have the heart to wake either of them. Instead, I fortified myself with one stick of the precious jerky and watched them sleep.

  Chapter 5

  “Sharpy,” a prim voice called near my ear. “Ahem. Sharpy.”

  “Hmm?” I snuggled back into the warmth encasing my spine.

  “The sun is up, the roads are clear, and my wounds are mended. I must be on my way.”

  I squinted at the dinner-sized portion of bunny. “Oh. Hey.” I scanned the area, noting our packs and scattered supplies. Everything was accounted for except… Oh crap. I glanced over my shoulder and came nose to nose with Isaac. “What are you doing in my sleeping bag?”

  His fingers, which he had tangled in my hair, eased free to caress my shoulder. His breath, I noticed, was suspiciously minty while mine tasted like last-night’s jerky. “It’s my bag, and you were cuddled against me when I woke.”

  Groaning, I tried to locate my inner wolf for a stern scolding, but she was nowhere to be found. Traitor.

  “Sorry about that.” I rolled away from him and stretched. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on watch.”

  “I can.” Fabric rustled behind me, and Isaac stood. He had changed clothes and started breakfast. “You never woke me to take my shift. You’re not beta here, Dell. You don’t have to protect me. We’re partners. We split the responsibilities, and that includes watching each other’s backs.”

  Stunned by the realization he had done all that and then climbed back into the sack for a cuddle, I didn’t have a ready answer for him.

  “It’s in my nature to protect,” I groused. “I don’t think of you as weaker or lesser.”

  After shaking a skillet over his modified stove eye, he glanced back at me. “But you consider me yours to protect?”

  I snapped my teeth together so hard he must have heard them click. “You’re pack.”

  He sprinkled what appeared to be pepper into the mixture. “Is that all I am?”

  Leave it to Isaac to require schematics of our doomed courtship.

  “No,” I admitted. “You’re also a pain in my butt.”

  “Sharpy,” the small voice came again. “I am sorry to intrude, but I wanted to thank you for your protection last night, and for not eating me. Though I’m sure I would be quite delicious.”

  Isaac blinked at that but set about plating our breakfast without comment.

  “Well, seeing as how I’m not fae, I suppose there’s no harm in thanking me.” I grinned at him, careful to keep my lips closed. “You’re welcome. Happy hopping.”

  “Oh, ah. I had not thought of that. Not fae. No. You’re right, of course.” He appeared to reach a conclusion. “However, I do owe you a debt. Is there anything you require?”

  Clearly being indebted to a predator was flustering him, so I decided to absolve him on the spot. “We’re searching for the Halls of Summer. Can you point us in the right direction?”

  “I would be delighted to show you the way.” His slender ears perked. “I pass it on my ro
ute home.”

  An escort was better than I’d hoped for. “Wonderful. Hear that, Isaac? We’ve got ourselves a tour guide.”

  Isaac offered me a plate overflowing with reconstituted scrambled eggs, then handed me a fork and a bottle of water. “We appreciate your help.”

  Breakfast conversation segued into a discussion on the geography of the area. The púca, who lived in a burrow on the border between Summer and Spring, praised the wonders of Summer while warning us of the hidden dangers. As a very small animal, his fears were tenfold what ours might be, but the information was valuable nonetheless. He carried on, sharing gossip about the locals, instructing us on who we might consider friend or foe. He knew who was who and what was what and where was where. The tumble of chatter grew confusing to me, but Isaac soaked up the púca’s stories, and the meal ended with him parched for more.

  Once again, Isaac summoned his monolithic hand to part the briars and allow us to pass through the thorny curtain unharmed. I inhaled deeply and made a sensory note of the area so we could spend the night on our return trip here as well. Together the three of us set out for the Halls. This time we stuck to the grass to avoid bumping into the locals.

  “Smells of fur, it does,” came a rumbling voice from a dense thicket up ahead. “Think I’s found him, I did.”

  “Aye.” A second voice lifted. “That’s the one. The little blighter what stole from us.”

  Leon’s tail shot up straight, and tiny balls rolled everywhere as he crapped himself.

  “Gentlemen, please,” he begged the shadows. “I can explain.”

  “Can you?” I growled at him. “What’s this all about?”

  “I might have taken a small thing, trifling really, that didn’t belong to me.” Leon’s nose twitched a mile a minute. “I had no idea they would catch up so soon, or I would have warned you. I swear it.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure. I bet. Where was this honesty last night? You blamed your injury on springing a trap. You claimed cats were hunting you and that’s why you required sanctuary.”

  “Well, you see, you did smell a bit like a dog, so I thought if I blamed the cats…”

 

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