Page 49 of Fangs and Fudge

“Hi, Gunther,” I said. “I brought you something sweet and chocolatey.”

He looked up at the plate Shepard held and then at me. “Thanks, Everly.”

The bites on his neck had healed to the point they were barely noticeable. And his coloring looked a lot better.

“We miss you at Blur. Think you’ll be coming back soon?” I asked.

“Heard the dishes were piling up last night,” he said, taking the plate and setting it on the bedside table.

“Yeah, the new washer’s a little slow,” I said.

He chuckled because the new washer had been Gunner with Shepard helping when he could.

“Yeah, you can’t teach competence,” Gunther said.

Shepard snorted as Gunther and I shared a small smile.

“He’ll be back Wednesday,” Shepard said. “Due to recent events, I’m closing Blur Mondays and Tuesdays until we get this infestation under control.”

I inwardly winced at the loss of income.

“That makes sense,” I said then glanced at Gunther. “You’re not going out with them, are you?”

“I haven’t been smothered with enough pack love to reassure everyone that I’m fit for hunting. The fudge will help me through it, though. Thanks.”

I nodded and took that as our cue to leave.

“Interested in a tour?” Shepard asked when we were in the hallway again.

“Yes,” Vena said, answering for us.

He led us through all three buildings, which were almost mirror images of one another. Some of the rooms had been converted to allow for larger families to live comfortably. Some were left as single units like Gunther’s.

When Shepard opened a door that led to the back of the buildings, I was surprised by the manicured, park-like gardens lined with gravel paths. Bushes, flowers, vines, and trees bordered the meandering paths.

“This is beautiful,” I said.

“Is this part of Rock Creek Park?” Vena asked.

“No. This is ours. The paths dead-end at a line of shrubs that separate us from the park. It deters lost park visitors from wandering onto our land.”

Several seating areas were sprinkled throughout the extensive patio and out in the flower gardens. It was peaceful here, and there was enough room for everyone without feeling crowded.

My eyes paused on a woman walking near flowering bushes. With a silent groan, I realized it was Sierra. A man stood off to the side of her as she poked her hand into the bush and rustled it.

“How is she?” I asked Shepard.

“She’s healthy but doesn’t like being here.”

“How long will you keep her?” Vena asked.

“That depends on her,” Shepard said. “Right now, she’s being uncooperative. Won’t answer most of our questions, and she’s evasive on the few she has answered.”

“When has she ever been cooperative?” Vena asked.

She wasn’t wrong.

“Sierra hasn’t opened up about what happened or who she was working with,” Shepard said. “Until she does, it’s not safe for her to leave.”

---