Page 50 of Scarred Resolve

Davor ran a hand through his hair, and I saw the beginning of that frustrated Davor I knew very well. He had a mean tongue when he was feeling a lot.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he growled softly, and when he looked back at us, they were a werecat’s eyes. “Why doesn’t this make any sense?”

“Perhaps we should move on and keep tracking,” Niko suggested softly.

“No,” Davor growled in return, his eyes damn near glowing in the shadowed home. “I need to figure this out.”

“Then we’ll stop early. I’ll catch us a meal. Help Jacky set this up for us to stay in.”

“Okay,” Davor murmured, disappearing from view. I tried to take a step, but Niko pulled, and I followed him away.

“Davor hates bad data,” Niko whispered quickly, his voice low enough to keep it from reaching Davor’s ear. “He hates anomalies. Hehatesnot knowing or understanding something. This werecat is getting stranger with every step we take closerto it. If he snaps at you, snap back, but don’t be the first one to snap. Let him ride this out, please. He’ll cool off when we eat if he hasn’t already.”

“How long are you allowed to be gone before I need to write you off as dead?” I asked, looking back at the cabin.

“Very funny. If I’m gone for two hours, come find me with Davor. I won’t go far. Going to chase down some close game.”

I nodded and stepped away from him, taking his pack when he held it out. He stripped and folded his clothes, putting them on top. I was walking away as he Changed. I had a feeling he was going to be back in less than an hour, dragging a kill straight to the door.

“Davor?” I called as I went in and put Niko’s things down, then my own. I could hear him muttering but was unable to make out the words. I found him in the back bedroom, the last room I checked. This was a nice cabin, with two bedrooms, an off-the-grid kitchen, and a bathroom.

“Davor?” I said again.

He was writing notes in a little notebook I hadn’t seen before. He stopped and looked up.

“Yes?”

“Niko went hunting,” I said quickly. “You okay?”

I saw the spark of something coming to him, that sharpness in his expression that told me I was going to be bitten by him. I lowered my head, ready for it, bracing and preparing myself to have a retort.

It never came. No sharp or mean comment came. I blinked after a moment, seeing him inhale deeply and exhale with his eyes closed. He continued to do it until all the frustration was subdued. It had to have taken five minutes, but he never snapped at me.

“I’m not, but that’s my problem and not your fault,” he said finally. “The person I’m talking to, my therapist, has been tellingme that it’s impossible to know everything and I shouldn’t… misplace my frustration on people. I’m sorry.”

“No problem. You should double their pay,” I said, smiling as he looked at me a little dumbfounded. Eventually, he smiled in return.

“I probably should,” he agreed. “What are you planning?”

“I’m going to clean up a little so Niko can cook whatever he brings back.”

“Let me help,” he said, shoving the notebook back into his pack and following me out.

22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Let me get pictures,” Davor said quickly, pulling out his cellphone and beginning to take snapshots of the main room, showing the disarray. The damage was damning if a supernatural came across it, but most humans would just believe a really pissed-off and hungry bear had broken in. Davor took pictures of every room in the house that had evidence the werecat was on his rampage while staying there.

“Done,” he said, putting his phone away and meeting me back in the main room as I pushed an old couch back where it seemed like it should go.

“We’re going to clean up everything broken and pay attention for any hair or nail pieces it might have broken off,” I said, not looking up at him as I grabbed torn cushions and piled them up.

“Leave no trace, of course,” he agreed and got busy with me. He found a broom and dustpan, and I found trash bags.

It didn’t take too long before we were sitting on the couch with the cushions and pillows we could salvage, watching the fire.

“Thank goodness whoever kept this place stocked the dry wood supply for a fire,” I said, sighing. “Nice fireplace, too.” Itwas one of those metal fireplaces that had a pipe that went up to the ceiling and out through the room, almost in the middle of the room.

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