Page 56 of Fae Devoted
“But you still think the witches are behind the missing wolves?” Johnnie knew evil existed in this world, and it wasn’t exclusive to humanity.
“If not the perpetrators, then the recipients.” Dylan wiped a hand down his face. “Who else would benefit from stealing an old wolf?”
Who else?
Johnnie would have gasped if she could draw in a full breath. Instead, she felt her hands begin to shake, her bare toes feeling as if they rested on a slab of ice rather than worn hardwood.
Was it possible the Elven Lord was behind the disappearances?
She licked dry lips and turned to Jacob, strangling the panic that threatened to choke her by the skin of her teeth. Dylan didn’t know—couldn’t know—about the Fae.
Jacob brushed his lips across her cold fingers, pride strumming through the mating link. Dylan didn’t appear to notice her sudden rise in fear.
“I’m heading into the forest to try to pick up the Willows’ trail again. I would appreciate it if you’d come along, beta. I could use your wolf’s help.”
“Large area to cover,” Jacob agreed, saving the Ferwyn’s swallowed pride. His gray’s nose and tracking skills were second to none. “Alarm system?”
“The cabin might not look like much, but the security is top notch.” Dylan turned to Johnnie. “You’ll be safe inside my home while we’re gone.”
“Go.” Johnnie managed a small smile. She had her guns, her claws if provoked, and it was a bright, sunny day. She would be fine.
“We’ll be back before nightfall.” Jacob left the table.
Before the vampires came out to play.
“You’re welcome to anything you can find in the kitchen but check the expiration dates first. There are a few paperbacks on top of the dresser in my bedroom, and the password for the Wi-Fi is RedbirdNation. Capital R, Capital N.”
“Still a St. Louis fan, I see.” She sighed, feigning a sad frown. “Shame.” The final dig came without thought, the familiar ribbing surprisingly natural. After all the past hurt, Johnnie almost forgot they’d once been friends.
“Still sticking with the can’t-win-it-all Braves?” he fired back, that lazy grin returning.
“Not all of us take the easy road,” she continued to bait him, standing along with the males.
“Hey now, you know I’ve been a Cardinal fan since—”
“Let’s go, Kincaid,” Jacob spoke through closed teeth, the sliding glass doors leading to the yard banging open against the wooden frame. He’d apparently had enough of their little stroll down memory lane.
There were things you could count on when it came to male behavior in relation to an unfinished bond. Possessiveness ranked near the top of the list, written in indelible ink just underneath overprotectiveness. Lifting on tiptoes, she placed a reassuring kiss on Jacob’s clenched jaw, then sobered at the reminder of the day’s mission. “Good luck.”
Jacob grunted in response, and she turned away.
He halted her with a single word, “Jo.”
She sensed him at her back a second later, his chin landing on the top of her head where it slid back and forth. Once. Twice. Three times before he let her go.
“Stay inside.”
She nodded, throat and heart too full to speak.
Chapter 16
The brown wolfcircled the massive gray, dashing in and darting out, snapping at his opponent’s shoulders and flanks, searching for a weakness Tucker knew the young Ferwyn warrior wouldn’t find. “Be patient, Fitzgerald,” he yelled in encouragement. “Wait for an opening.”
The pair inside the dirt ring had been sparring for over an hour. The smaller clanmate’s limbs were shaking from exhaustion, and his tail was beginning to droop. In a last-ditch effort to take down the more dominant wolf in the fight, Fitzgerald lunged at his competitor’s throat instead of first crippling him by slicing his hamstrings as he’d been trained to do. The gray easily avoided the clumsy attack, twisting aside at the last moment with incredible agility for a wolf the size of a large grizzly.
Fitzgerald scrambled to regain his feet, paws digging into the churned earth to halt his graceless slide. The gray nipped at his nose like he was a misbehaving pup instead of a grown warrior a decade past his majority, then turned to pad away, signaling the practice session was over. Humiliated by the trouncing observed by several members of his pack, Fitzgerald leaped at the retreating wolf’s hind end and sank his teeth into its thick haunches.
What happened next was as much a blur in Tucker’s memories as in his reoccurring nightmares.
