Page 51 of Untethering Dark

“Wow. That’s quite the fortunate turn of events.”

“Couldn’t’ve asked for a better outcome,” Astrid agreed. With a wicked smile, she added, “Gudariks is hot by the way. He’s got these great big antlers and a skull face, but he’s also tall and slightly furry. Doesn’t really wear clothes, like, at all, and he was kinda turned-on when we first met.”

Johanna arched one skeptical brow.

“I’m explaining it badly. He’s actually very sweet. Two nights ago, he helped me replant my garden.”

“Hard at first sight, was it?” Johanna nibbled on another gingerbread limb, wary. Without her usual jovial luster, every one of her fifty years showed in the deepening lines of her face. “That’s quite...memorable. But, Astrid, are you sure? I know you’re a scary Hexe who can take care of herself, but this isAltes Geweihwe’re talking about. He EATS people, and he thought about eating you. He stalked you like prey just the other night.”

Astrid waved a dismissive hand. “If he still wanted to eat me, he’d have done so already.”

“What if he wants to fuck you, then eat you? The English have a saying for this—it’s having his cake and eating it, too.”

“He’s been too thoughtful.” Her voice softened as she bent to tabletop level to check the dough’s thickness. “Too gentle. And it doesn’t feel disingenuous.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Johanna rubbed her forehead. “I’m just worried. We checked out the poacher’s campsite thismorning and are having the blood tested to verify it’s wolf, just some due diligence for our records. If something bad happened to you...”

Now was probably the time to mention the poacher who broke into her home, but why give Johanna something new to worry about when the situation was well under control? The next time the man dared step foot on her property, her magical wards would burn and peel the flesh from his bones. And that was just the sort of information Johanna would likenotto know.

“I can send a message after we meet if you’d like.”

Her friend exhaled. She didn’t look pleased, but she did agree. “Does your ‘gentleman friend’ by any chance know where these poachers are? Any reason why he hasn’t eaten them already?”

“Johanna.” Astrid placed a hand over her heart. “Are you encouraging the eating of people?”

“Poachers,” she corrected. “Just poachers.”

“Don’t they count?”

“Not really, no.”

“Legally?”

Johanna rolled her eyes. “Well, of course, legally. Just let me have my one murderous thought a year, will you?”

Astrid pushed the plate closer to her friend. Sighing, Johanna reached for another and bit off a gingerbread man’s head.

“Gudariks was with me at the site when I found the wolf’s blood,” Astrid confessed. She’d left that out before, not wanting to overwhelm her friend, but Johanna needed to know that even the mighty Wald Vater hadn’t the faintest clue what was going on. “And at least a couple times when I was not. He can’t find the poachers. The old magic I told you about? They just disappear. Perchta is baffled, too.”

“That’s comforting.” Her tone said otherwise. “And just when were you going to tell me this?”

“Precisely this moment.”

The rest of the gingerbread man disappeared into Johanna’s mouth, followed by loud crunching.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Of course, I was going to tell you! But I wanted to see if we could figure out something more useful first. ‘Sorry, all the oldest forest monsters are stumped’ isn’t very helpful. Or comforting, as you said.”

A heavy sigh. “I suppose that’s a fair point.”

“There is something that might help.” She could give Johanna a physical description of the man who broke into her home, for all the good it would do, considering he was among those vanishing at will. But if it sped up identifying him, and helped with the case Johanna was building, then maybe it was worth something. “We found cigarettes at the site. Several days ago, a man smoking ones just like them ventured near my property. Something about him rubbed me wrong, but at the time, I didn’t think he might be one of the poachers.”

“It’s okay. The information will be useful now. What did he look like?” Johanna pulled a notepad and pen from her coat breast pocket and jotted down notes as Astrid described him.

When they finished, Johanna checked her watch. “Sunset is in three hours. Remind me again why your latest plans for debauchery couldn’t involve a nice, polite satyr? Whatever happened to Demos and his friend?”

“The ménage à trois?” Astrid snorted. “Satyrs are many things, and often fun, but I wouldn’t call the encounters you’re alluding to ‘polite.’” Teasingly, she added, hoping it would reassure her friend, “I came out of that situation on top—both figuratively and literally.”

Dropping her head back with an exasperated groan, Johanna stared at the ceiling. “Fine. Just remember to text me.”

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