Not in person. She didn’t sign anything else. Instead, she dug around in her bag, presumably looking for her keys.
His mind repeated the same three words it had again and again over the past week: What is happening? The same three words that always led to him digging around for some plausible explanation.
At this point, though, he was sure his definition of “plausible” needed expanding.
Daisy unlocked the door but didn’t open it. The corgi yipped at the base, obviously excited about being introduced to the two German shepherds Gavin knew waited inside. The dogs on the other side of the door took turns sniffing and barking.
“She is safe. That, I’m sure of.” A small smile flicked across Daisy’s face. “In fact, she’s with the two people I know can—and will—protect her.”
“Who?” At least he’d know Rysa’s life had a tiny amount of steadiness, even if his didn’t.
Daisy chuckled. She held up her hands, her fingers curling into the hand-shape for the number six. She brought both hands up to her mouth, opened her lips as if breathing out, and drew away her hands while wiggling her fingers to indicate fire. Then she drew back her hands, wiggling her fingers once again.
“Dragon?” Gavin asked. “Why did you sign dragon with the six hand-shape?”
Chapter Ten
Dragons.
Daisy shook her head and pulled him inside.
Her house appeared way beyond what a student should be able to afford, unless the student came from a lot of money. Or was using “student” as cover and was actually some sort of special superspy agent and “dragon” meant some black-ops government program and not a fire-breathing beast.
Daisy shook her head again and moved around the kitchen with more poise than the ballet dancer Gavin had dated for a month last year. Or the woman who was a self-defense instructor. Daisy twisted, lifted, and turned as if she might have a black belt in every single deadly martial art.
Gavin was beginning to wonder if Daisy Pavlovich, if that was her real name, lived a redacted life and her whole “vet school” explanation was, in fact, a cover.
Though he figured she would have used a less memorable name if she wanted to blend in. He’d expect something like Jan or Kayla or Sue. Not Pavlovich, either. Pavlovich conjured images of dart guns, cold wars, and Russian accents.
She didn’t look particularly Eastern European. Though to be honest, he really couldn’t pick out anything other than that she was charming and beautiful.
Pretty female reared its head again. Gavin frowned and forced it down. Yeah, I hoot and think of all women I meet as “pretty females.” Admitting to his dumbass-ery seemed, well, like a dumbass move.
Because she truly was way out of his league. He’d never before in his life met anyone like her. Gavin was playing playground ball while Daisy hit for the majors.
So why would another spy tell him to help Daisy?
A small, coy smile danced across her lips when he leaned against the kitchen island. Granite countertops lined all walls not filled with top-of-the-line appliances. Glossy, perfectly-maintained wood framed every window and cabinet. Every wall felt satin smooth and glowed with luminescent paints in deep, warm blues and purples.
“I’m going to start with the basics,” she said.
For half an hour, they talked and signed about Gavin’s hearing aids, the software, who manufactured what, how the hell someone managed to reboot his phone every time he tried to contact Rysa, and what it all meant.
The people responsible weren’t spies. They weren’t government, either. Just “people” with special abilities and a lot of resources.
“Fates,” she called them. “Stay off their radar.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
Daisy frowned. “I don’t know.”
She wouldn’t answer specifics about the “angel Fate” who sent her to his rescue, and instead told him about the many unfriendly Shifter groups, one of whom must have sent the voice enthraller after her. And who must also have infiltrated her family.
The sun set and the next hour consisted of more explanations about “Fates” and “Shifters” and nasty people called “Burners.” He learned all about Daisy’s “bloodhound” nose, and her ability to heal and to enthrall animals.
Again, Gavin managed to stay calm—more, he suspected, because Daisy was not visibly panicking about her family, though the intensity of her voice did ratchet up when she spoke.
She’d been extra cautious since they returned to her house, not answering her phone or allowing Gavin to answer his. Not texting anyone or making any other attempts to contact the people he suspected she wanted to contact.
Because, as she explained, one slip-up could get them and the people they cared about killed.
Daisy shook her head and walked around the island. “You hungry?” She tapped his shoulder and he stepped to the side so she could get out a bag of food for the dogs.
Radar and Ragnar seemed like nice dogs. Both acted more serenely than he’d expect of guard animals. Maybe, like human males, having the cute corgi girl flirt with them kept them on their best behavior.
Gavin’s stomach growled. He nodded yes to Daisy’s question about food and watched her twist to feed the animals.
She really was beautiful. He always thought Rysa was pretty, with her green-gray eyes and her auburn hair, but Daisy was genuinely gorgeous. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t wearing make-up. Her skin looked fresh and touchable. At least to Gavin’s eyes.
But he needed to focus on how Rysa was off somewhere and Daisy and her not-spies family knew all about it. “Rysa is driving around God-knows-where with some guy named Ladon and his… dragon?”
“Yes, Gavin,” she said. “He lives with a dragon. They’re nice. You don’t have to worry.” She said something else but she’d turned away and Gavin couldn’t read her lips, but her face and her intent clearly said Don’t be a jackass.
When she filled the dogs’ food dish, three doggy butts moved at high speed but only one doggy mouth chowed down food. The German shepherds waited, watching the corgi eat, both twisting their heads as if they were trying to decide between politeness and their own rumbling stomachs. One looked up at Daisy as if to ask if they, too, could eat.
She scratched their ears and got two more bowls from the cupboard. “They usually don’t have guests.”
“You live by yourself?” Absently, he tapped his finger along the rim of the fruit bowl full of organic oranges and bananas and tried not to be the jackass she seemed to think he was.
Daisy shrugged and stood still, allowing him to see her lips. “It’s just me. The dogs are roommates enough, aren’t you, fellas?” She scratched behind the ear of the closest hound.
“Radar and Ragnar, huh?” Gavin couldn’t tell them apart. Growing up, he’d had a neighbor with German shepherds, but they hadn’t been nearly as large. Or silver. Except for the black saddles on Radar and Ragnar’s backs, these two looked as if they carried wolf genes.
“Their mother’s name is Dawnstar,” Daisy said. “Seemed fitting to stay with the pattern.”
Gavin chuckled, too. “This Radar?” He scratched the big dog’s ear. A tail wagged.
“Yep.” Daisy pulled out a cast iron skillet and set it on the stove top. “He likes you, by the way.”
“Well, I’d rather you liked me than not, my new canine friend.” Gavin rubbed the dog’s neck. More tail wagging followed.
“Their daddy’s from a top breeder and trainer in Munich. He was a gift from my father to the Branson, Missouri, police department. He’s a decorated K-9 officer. Dawn saw him and it was love at first sight.” A wistful smile darted over Daisy’s face as she pulled a new bowl out of a cupboard. “Isn’t that right, boys?”
Two woofs echoed through the kitchen.
Dogs fell in love? Gavin shook his head. The corgi, though, seemed to be enjoying her time with her new male companions. “I didn’t think dogs cared.”
Daisy blinked slow
ly, the way a woman who thinks a guy’s being stupid blinks. The You’re a jackass way. But she grinned and let it pass. Again.
Gavin frowned. “I’m not going to believe any of this until I meet this so-called dragon, by the way.” He sniffed and took two place settings of silverware when Daisy handed them over.
She pulled a dozen eggs from her expensive, world-class refrigerator and fired up her high-tech, restaurant-grade stovetop. It clicked and whirred, and Gavin heard the gas move through the lines.
Daisy whipped a couple of eggs as the pan heated. The metal of the whisk scraped along the glass of the bowl. The cast iron pan on the stove gave off a low hum-like sound as it heated and expanded. And here Gavin sat, about to be fed a nice meal of scrambled eggs and toast. A perfectly ripe avocado rested next to the fruit bowl, waiting to top off what he suspected was about to be a delicious meal.
Daisy poured the eggs and they sizzled in the pan. She pushed them around and her silicon turner scraped loud enough across the iron that his super-aids picked up the sound.
The toast popped, and she set his piece on his plate. “The avocado smells perfect this evening.” She picked it up. “You’re welcome to some, if you’d like.”
Gavin started to relax, even if he shouldn’t. Relaxing, though, would help him understand the context of this situation, so he rolled with it. “Thank you.”
She laid three slices of avocado over his eggs before pushing his plate across the island. Behind him, the dogs lapped at their water dish; first the one he thought was Ragnar, followed by Gavin’s new buddy, Radar. They padded across the kitchen’s tiled floor, the corgi between them, to their pair of giant dog beds. They sniffed at each other, then both did doggy circles before lying down.
For a moment, the corgi seemed indecisive, but quickly cuddled up with Ragnar.
Poor Radar. Like Gavin, the pretty girl only wanted to be his friend.
“Call… dinner… maybe Ivan.” Daisy took a bite of her eggs but she scrunched her eyes closed as if she couldn’t decide what to do. “Will… listen?”
Listen? Was using his high-tech hearing aids to listen for voice enthrallers how he was supposed to help Daisy? He picked up a fork full of bright yellow organic egg. “Sure. Who’s—?”
Gavin whipped around as the three dogs perked up. “Someone’s in your backyard.”
Chapter Eleven
The engine of a large automobile rumbled behind the house. The vehicle clicked and rocked, as if the person inside rustled garbage or papers, and the engine cut.
“Think… hear… enthraller?” Daisy pointed toward the back of the kitchen.
Separated from the main space by a mudroom, the back entrance to the house opened out of sight of the kitchen. Gavin could, theoretically, stand to the side and listen without being seen.
He nodded. “But you’ll need to be able to see me if I hear something.” Not being able to communicate his findings wouldn’t help.
Daisy pulled him toward the mud room. “Okay behind… door? … dangerous.”
“I’ll be okay.” He could do this for her.
All three dogs perked up. Radar and Ragnar paced Daisy, their ears erect and their attention pointed toward the back of the house.
Daisy swung open the mudroom’s inner door. Like a lot of entryways, it was crammed full of dog toys, leashes, even cold-weather doggie coats and boots. A set of cross-country skis hung from the ceiling. Along the opposite wall, the door of a closet full of human winter gear stood open.
And right next to the door, under a coat hanging on a hook and inside some sort of clockwork locking mechanism, a shotgun hung on the wall. A multitude of fingers wrapped around the stock and the barrel, all gripping like a metal centipede lying on its back.
Daisy tapped the side of the mechanism in a way that suggested she entered a code, then tugged on the gun’s stock with an up-out-up motion.
The mechanism wound, or perhaps unwound. Internal parts rolled and clicked. And the fingers released.
Daisy didn’t take it off the wall. She did, however, keep her hand on the stock. “Behind the door.” She motioned for Gavin to stand in the shadows between the entrance and the closet.
Quickly, he stepped into place. Daisy bent to the dogs and spoke softly. They all sat, the corgi between the two shepherds, and completely attuned to Daisy.
Even with her explanations, seeing her use her abilities came as a shock. Gavin shook it off and concentrated on the person outside. Whoever approached the door moved quickly and with a short stride.
The person stopped at the door and took a deep breath.
The doorbell rang.
Radar barked but stayed where Daisy commanded him to stay.
She tapped her ear before flicking on the mudroom’s light and the outdoor flood.
“Daisy?” the person outside called.
Daisy’s skin lost its golden glow as the blood drained from her face. Her eyes opened wide, and Gavin thought maybe she blinked back a tear.
“… honey? What if… sees me?” the sweet female voice asked. A touch of fear curled through the woman’s words along with a hint of frantic. She felt vulnerable, whoever she was.
Daisy looked through the peephole as she curled her hand around the doorknob.
She didn’t open the door. She inhaled instead and closed her eyes for a moment. “… hear enthraller?” she mouthed.
Gavin shook his head. Nothing abnormal came through the door, just the vulnerability and the feminine resonances of the voice.
“… hiding,” the voice said. “… distracted. I thought… safe now.” Tiny vibrations moved through the door as if the woman had gently touched it.
Daisy leaned her forehead against the door’s white surface. Tiny glints from the kitchen reflected off the paint and etched a random mosaic across her cheek. It wiggled slightly as her jaw clenched and unclenched, but it didn’t hide her still-blanched pallor.
Whoever was outside knotted Daisy up, mind, body, and soul.
“I’ll leave… want me to.” The door vibrated again. The woman must have leaned against it. “… know… long time. … shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”
Daisy sniffed. Her hand rose off the doorknob and she wiped at her eye with the back of her hand.
Gavin touched her shoulder. She looked so distraught he wanted to pull her to his chest and hug away what overwhelmed her world, but he knew all too well tsunamis couldn’t be stopped.
But he could help her with this. Who? he signed.
Another tear smeared across the back of her hand but she stood up straight and her shoulders squared. My mom, she answered.
Mother? Gavin glanced at the door. Daisy had only spoken of her father. He’d gotten the impression that she’d lost her mother. Lost, as in dead. Was a zombie outside? Because in this new world, zombies seemed all too plausible.
His misgivings must have registered on his face and in his body, because Daisy’s face tightened. She nodded once as if agreeing and placed her hand back on the rifle stock.
“You might… enthraller,” she said loudly, so the person on the other side would hear.
“… dogs in there. … hear them. … through a door!” A thump popped through the door and bounced through the mudroom.
Daisy frowned.
No changes in her voice, Gavin signed. The vulnerability stayed at a constant level, not rising or receding.
Daisy stepped back from the door at the same time she yanked the gun off the wall. “Who did you work for in Perth?” she called.
Gavin missed the woman’s answer, but Daisy seemed satisfied.
“Name and breed of my dog and who she belonged to before me.” Daisy tapped the barrel of her gun on the door.
Again, Gavin did not understand but Daisy seemed satisfied.
“What happened with that boy behind my school?” Daisy moved like Rysa did when she got excited and a tiny bounce rose from her feet up through her knees and into her torso. She smiled too.
Gavin
felt his skin prickle to the point he was sure he knew the movement of the air in the tiny room and the warmth of the dogs huddled together and framed by the door into the kitchen.
This woman answered Daisy’s questions. She was not a voice enthraller and no obvious ill intent floated through the door with her incomprehensible words, only a steady, background state of feminine vulnerability. Daisy sniffed the air, looking for calling scents or anything else that would give away an imposter. The dogs waited attentively and without alarm.
He should be as satisfied as Daisy. But he wasn’t.
And he didn’t know why.
Daisy touched his elbow and nodded toward the door as if asking his opinion one last time.
I don’t hear lying, he signed. But I don’t like this. He needed to tell her his gut feeling.
Would she open the door? Would she listen to Gavin?
Daisy paused too long. She spent too much time between states of decision, in that wishy-washy gray area of not knowing. Of holding back. Of second-guessing and arguing with your own intuition.
Rysa behaved the same way in stressful situations. Her quick mind and her good instincts would tell her to ask a question, or to avoid a situation, but she’d fidget and bounce and tell herself all sorts of shit about how her ADHD made her instincts wrong.
Which Gavin suspected was why, at this moment, he was so sensitive to Daisy doing the exact same thing. Somewhere in her head, voices argued. One must be whispering that Gavin was correct. Something about the woman outside was off. But another must be yelling How the hell would he know? They didn’t know each other. Just that his gut screamed Something is wrong!
Daisy reached for the doorknob.
Gavin shook his head. “Ask more questions,” he said. The longer the door stood between them, the safer he felt.
“She’s out in the open.” Daisy nodded toward the dogs. “They won’t let anything happen.”
Bonds Broken & Silent Page 26
