Page 58 of Guardians of the Pack

The pack howled its success, yipping into the air, and then the wolves took turns ripping into the feast and admiring the warm, coppery blood flowing onto the earth. Sated in more ways than one, we finally turned back to the mansion.

We kept a ready supply of spare clothing for such occasions, and the indomitable Mrs Dawes had already laid out various tracksuits, but I was already mourning my favourite pair of jeans. They’d really made my ass look good.

We shifted from four to two. My nakedness no longer bothered me, but even so I pulled on a black tracksuit. Mrs Dawes hadn’t had time to retrieve underwear, so we were all going commando.

I glanced at Reynard and was relieved to see that Amber was already there, drawing rune after rune on him at speed. Her car was parked close by and her chauffeur was handing her the paintbrushes. I could tell that he was her chauffeur because he was wearing a little hat. Amber had her standards all right.

I didn’t want to disturb her while she was working so intently, but I moved a little closer to watch. She flicked her eyes at me before turning back to her patient, then ignored me. I didn’t take umbrage; she had her priorities and offending me wasn’t on the list at that moment. Saving Reynard was.

I left her for a moment and turned to Mrs Dawes. ‘Chuck a movie on in the pack lounge and call out for pizza. I think we’d all feel better staying together tonight. Spread the word that we’re having a bunk in.’

As always, the saintly woman simply nodded and turned back to the assembled pack. Esme was wrong: I wasn’t mother of the pack, Mrs Dawes was. She spoke discreetly with each member, checking that they were okay, before murmuring the instructions about the bunk in. She was more efficient than anyone I’d ever met before.

With the pack taken care of, at least temporarily, I turned back to Amber and Reynard. As I started to close the distance between us, Greg stepped close to me. He’d pulled on black tracksuit bottoms but his chest remained bare. The man loved to be topless. I wasn’t complaining. ‘Are you a closet nudist?’ I asked, my mouth disconnected from my brain.

‘I don’t think nudists have much use for a closet,’ he replied with a grin.

‘Touché.’

The humour faded from his face. ‘Are you going to talk to me about your little trip to Kreig?’

'Sure. Let's discuss it.'

His jaw clenched. ‘You have a death wish.’

‘I have a “I-want-to-find-Bobby” wish.’

‘And did you find him at the deadliest den in the Other?’

‘No,’ I admitted, ‘but I did get a lead.’

‘Well? Don’t leave me hanging,’ he said drily.

‘The griffin involved is called Ghost.’

‘Great, the one behind the black tourneys. That’s another dead end.’

‘Not quite – Krieg knew Ghost’s real name.’ I indulged in a dramatic pause. ‘Charlize. Apparently she’s Bastion’s daughter.’

‘Fuck.’

Chapter 21

AfterAmberfinishedworkingher magic on Reynard, his body was carried carefully into my sitting room. Mrs Dawes had stoked the fire; the room was warm and I was grateful for the reassuring normality of the flames.

They laid Reynard on the same sofa that I’d been placed on when I was at death’s door. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Would his life be similarly transformed?

Amber fussed around him, checking that she had healed every last cut. She seemed more perturbed than I’d expected, and I was dying to know what was going on between them. Was it as simple as a species’ feud?

‘Are you sure that he is going to be all right?’ I asked.

She nodded briskly. ‘Yes, we got to him just in time. Gargoyles are fairly robust and, like werewolves, they heal quickly.’ She looked at me pointedly, but I didn’t understand what she was driving at. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood so he won’t be flying around any time soon, but he’ll live. You did the stasis charm right. If you hadn’t, he’d have died.’

‘Thank you for your help.’

‘I didn’t do it for you.’

‘For the invoice?’ I asked sardonically.

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