Page 89 of Mongrel
Sausage knickers as if he’s starving and nudges my shoulder to give up the last of the sugar cubes.
Chuckling, I hand them over and gather myself just long enough to say, “We’ll take him!”
Chapter 27
It takes twice as long to journey back to Varad as it did to get from Varad to Csejthe. Traveling with a lazy old horse and an excitable young lady isn’t an opportunity for speed so much as it is for making memories.
Cecily is in good spirits most nights, and when she isn’t, we make sure she feels safe and loved until she’s all right again.
I fare slightly better on the terrifying floating bridge on our way home, keeping my mind distracted by telling Bowie and Cecily the story of the bridge troll called Arlo that Ava used to tell me.
Sausage has become completely used to me in either form, which makes me worry for his future. If he thinks wolves are safe, he could be an easy target for a pack. Bowie picks up on my worry, like he always does, and assures me Sausage will have a place of honor in Jakob’s stables for the rest of his days. That makes me feel better. I’ve already fallen in love with the sweet old horse.
What’s not to love about a big lazy animal who just wants extra snacks?
We don’t stay at The Twig and Berries this time around. Instead, Bowie runs ahead and speaks with Dominus, who has the succubi prepare a room for us at The Peach and Pearl. We shuffle Cecily through as quickly as we can, but she’s too smart not to question the establishments. Bowie manages to explain them away without lying exactly, but not telling the entire truth either.
In Debrecen, we stay at Ivaz’s hostel, though Ivaz himself isn’t present. He’s still busy escorting the rest of the girls to safety. Everyone wears a lot more clothes than I remember from last time, and no one dry humps or bites each other in every nook and cranny of the parlor either. It turns out vampires will stay on their best behavior when you have their boss’s brother’s twelve-year-old niece in tow.
A messenger is sent ahead from Debrecen to let Catherine and Jakob know we’ll arrive tonight. I can’t believe we’re nearly home. I imagine I can smell Ava’s cinnamon apple cakes from here. My heart feels too big for my chest, but worry creeps along the edges.
What’s next when this is done? I don’t want my old life back. Hovering in shadows and cowering from Farkas and his cronies is no way to live.
I’ll have to think of something, but not just yet.
Bowie and I have enjoyed our share of quiet, sweet moments together on the journey, but we haven’t been intimate, not with Cecily in our care. He’s been a pillar of strength for her this entire journey. It’s not until we’re on the final approach to Varad that his emotions begin to seep through the cracks. With as much time as he spends comforting Cecily, he hasn’t had any time to seek comfort for himself.
Bowie. Always a giver. Never a taker.
His eyes fill with pinkish tears as we draw close to his home. Cecily rides atop Sausage. I loop my arm through Bowie’s and match his stride. It’s an act of pure restraint not to ask Sausage to gallop the rest of the way just so we can arrive a moment sooner. If Bowie could get away with it, I think he would carry Cecily, me, and the old horse to the family’s estate himself.
Just when I’m about to suggest he take Cecily and run ahead, a set of horses and riders comes galloping our way.
Cecily recognizes them first. “Mama!” Her excited scream wells with joy and longing.
Sausage must sense the urgency because he picks up his pace. Not exactly a gallop, but as close to it as Sausage gets and faster than I’ve ever seen him go.
Bowie halts and squeezes my arm against his side as we watch the reunion.
Jakob practically leaps from his horse to gather Cecily from Sausage’s back and into his arms. Catherine abandons her mount as well, and the three of them cling together in a tight embrace. Sobs of relief mix with cries of joy as they hold each other.
My heart thumps fast, my chest warms, and my eyes water. But I can’t cry now because Bowie needs me. His blood-tinted tears already stain his cheeks, and I know he’d rather not be seen this way. He goes to swipe at them with his shirt sleeve, but I stop him.
“Let me.” The wolf wants to lick him clean, and I’m powerless to resist. Quickly, I clean his face so he can greet his family without looking like a creature from a nightmare. I wipe his cheeks dry with my thumbs.
“Thank you.” He leans in so I can nuzzle him, pressing our faces together to combine our scents. I love that he encourages this. So does the wolf.
“Go to them,” I whisper into his ear.
Bowie draws back to gaze into my eyes, his own stormy blue irises full of emotion. He nods, lets me go, and runs to be welcomed into the group hug.
Catherine clings to him hard, repeating “thank you” over and over.
Jakob tugs him close and plants a firm kiss right on the crown of his head.
Cecily is smushed between all of them so that all I see of her are pretty blonde curls. My smile stretches wide. Seeing the family together after everything we’ve been through brings a swell of emotion that threatens to overwhelm me. I don’t even know what to call it. Happiness isn’t enough. Neither is relief, satisfaction, or joy.
When I’m so full of this odd euphoria that I don’t know what to do with myself, I notice Sausage wandering off and silently thank him for giving me a purpose.
