Page 103 of A Stranger in Town (Rockton 6)

“Actually, I’m going to go talk to Mathias,” I say. “That’s where I found Émilie earlier—sneaking back from his place.”

“Ah-ha,” he says, brows wriggling, and I laugh, tension easing from me.

“Sadly, it’s going to be the less interesting option. He’s working with the council, and she wanted to talk to him. Before she has a chance to speak to him again, I want to see if anything she said contradicts the story she just gave.”

“You okay with us walking you over?”

“I am. Thank you.”

* * *

I rap on Mathias’s door. Dalton and Storm wait a few feet from the porch. When the door swings open, Mathias fixes me with a glower that makes me rethink going into his place alone. While I’ve never feared him, in that moment, a chill slides over me.

Still, I wave Dalton off and step inside as Mathias moves back.

“I’m sorry to disturb your sleep,” I say in French.

“You disturb nothing. I was not asleep.”

If he’s not annoyed because I woke him …

He walks inside, leaving me to follow. I look around and notice another new piece of art, which must have come in the latest shipment. We often need to pick up a package or two for Mathias when we’re in town. Few residents have that privilege. Dalton uses his for books. I use mine for gifts and chocolates. Mathias buys art.

“How am I to rest,” he says, “when my responsibility lies beyond my reach?”

I try—and fail—to untangle that. I presume the meaning is lost in translation, an idiomatic use that flies over my head.

“I don’t under—” I begin in English.

“No.” Mathias wheels, so close to me that I fight the urge to back up. “I am the one who doesn’t understand. Did you not tell me he was my responsibility?”

I glance around the room, realizing I haven’t seen Raoul—Mathias’s wolf-dog. Normally, he’d be at the door, dancing and whining when he smelled Storm. My heart skips until I find him on the sofa, his head ducked just enough to tell me he’s in hiding.

Mathias follows my gaze. “No, not the damned dog.”

Mathias rubs Raoul’s ears and murmurs to him, “I am not angry with you. No one has taken you from me without a word of warning. No one has taken you and left me wondering for hours where you’ve gone, until a near stranger casually mentions that you are in the forest, having offered yourself up as hostage.”

I wince. “Sebastian. I’m sorry, Mathias.”

“Are you?”

That tone makes me straighten. “Yes, I am, despite the fact that Sebastian is old enough to make his own choices. He’s only your responsibility insomuch as I’m relying on you to help monitor his mental state and provide the therapy he needs. Also, I’d think you’d be happy to have him gone for a few days. You’re always complaining about him.”

He glowers at me. “That does not sound like a sincere apology.”

“It was … until you challenged me on it.”

He grumbles and sits beside Raoul, who lays his muzzle on Mathias’s leg.

“I believe, Casey, that to truly understand my current sleepless state, you might consider what you just said. That I am responsible for his mental well-being. Might it not, then, have been prudent to consult me before sending him off on this mission?”

I settle into the chair across from him, and Raoul zips over to me. “I could point out that, under the very tense circumstances in which this occurred, consulting you was impossible. But after Sebastian agreed, we returned to pick up the dirt bike and we should have spoken to you then.”

Mathias relaxes a little, marginally mollified.

“He wanted to do this,” I say, “and they’d never hurt him.”

“He would not allow them to. He can take care of himself. I simply do not like him being sent into a situation where he may need to do so.”

---