Wolf at the Door (Lorimar Pack) (Gemini Book 5)

by Hailey Edwards

  “I don’t see anything,” I called. “I’m climbing out, okay?”

  I didn’t want to risk adding my weight to his again, so I dragged myself up and out of the mouth of the opening. He waited until my feet were back on solid ground to join me. When he sank to his knees to rest, I pressed a stick of jerky from my personal emergency stash into his hand.

  “Eat,” I ordered him. “We still have to make it to the RV.”

  Isaac ate.

  Pawpaw took me to the fair every summer when I visited him and Meemaw. Once we had watched a sword-swallower gulp down his weapon by tipping back his head and sheathing the blade down his throat. Isaac had the same method down pat. I was impressed.

  “Do you want to check the concession stand again?” He waved off my hand, no doubt concerned about adding pressure to my spine, and shoved off the concrete and back onto his feet. “I could use a short break before we make a run for the RV.”

  “Take a seat over there.” Forlorn chairs cozied up to empty tables as though searching for the warmth of patrons long past. “I’ll be right back.”

  I jogged to where Flower had bedded down, relishing the chance to stretch my legs, and conducted a thorough search of her sleeping area. With the exception of the trash, which fit the rest of the park’s décor, all I found was a single match with a large sticker wrapped around its base. I brought it to my nose, smelling cordite and…plastic. Was this what she had uncovered? If I folded the sticker flat, would it match the sticky spot inside the slide? What did the match mean?

  When no other clues presented themselves, I made my way back to Isaac and offered him my find. “It’s not much, but it’s all she left.”

  A frown puckered the space between his eyebrows. “I’ll need to see the list again to know for sure, but there’s something…” His lids fluttered, and he swayed. “I don’t feel so good.”

  Before he could topple off his barstool, I wedged my shoulder under his arm and cinched him against me. A twinge of pain protested the act, but I tamped it down and hustled toward the exit. I had made my peace with revealing ourselves—and the RV—in order to reserve his strength, but Isaac had his pride.

  “This is going to be quick and ugly,” he warned me. “Tuck and roll if I fall.”

  Swallowing hard, I watched him struggle to assume his feathered visage then shake in the throes of a near seizure to get his invisibility functional. He gripped me with enough force his talons drew blood then jerked me into the air in a half-hop that terminated in a jumble of scraped knees and scratched elbows on the other side.

  “’kay?” he mumbled.

  “Come on, handsome.” I wedged my shoulder under his arm, hefted him onto his feet, and we hobbled along together. “Almost there.”

  Using every drop of strength I had left, I hauled us into the RV and dumped Isaac onto the couch beside Tiberius. The teen grunted in annoyance but otherwise made no comment. I sank onto the floor at Isaac’s feet and face-planted in his lap. Operation Payback was put on hold, though. There was nothing sexual in the fact my face was jammed in his crotch. I was just too damn tired to move.

  “Do you require privacy?” A clipped note of disapproval entered Tiberius’s voice.

  “I require juice and food times two and maybe help into a chair.” The denim of Isaac’s pants muffled my sarcasm. “Do you think you can unplug and help with that?”

  “You only had to ask.” He set the tablet aside with obvious reluctance then gathered me in his arms in an awkward hold. I was too tall and too top-heavy for him to handle with his usual elegance. But he got me positioned next to Isaac on the couch and then went in search of fuel to recharge us.

  Light snores brought a tired smile to my lips. Isaac was out cold. Poor guy. He had pushed himself too far today. It looked like I wasn’t the only one who had trouble with hard limits. Reaching over, I pulled off the night vision goggles, tracing the pink outlines around eyes shadowed by exhaustion.

  “Will this suffice?” Tiberius presented me with a juice box of apple juice, a few blocks of cheese, grapes and a handful of nuts. He must have gotten into one of the prepackaged snacks Zed had stocked in the fridge. “Will he be eating as well?”

  “Yes.” As much as I hated to wake him, Isaac had to get some food in him. “Please, can you bring me another plate?” To take the edge off asking a royal to serve me, I sweetened the deal. “I’ll give you access to the pack’s line of credit and spring for some in-game purchases.”

  His sour countenance brightened. “I was eyeing this round, blue fruit that appears to conjure lightning storms to electrocute zombies.”

  Of course, he was. First birds and pigs, now fruit and zombies.

  I made appropriate noises of agreement while having no clue what he meant then nudged Isaac awake and forced him to chew and swallow his small meal. He choked once on the juice, which perked him up enough to help me get him to the bedroom and stretched out on the mattress.

  Since his phone was a mystery to me, I had no GPS to guide me as I pulled the RV into traffic. The best I could do for us was locate an isolated stretch of private beach with a long driveway boasting No Trespassing signs every half mile. I parked there, powered down and paid the prince his bribe. Trusting his new acquisitions, whatever they were, would keep him out of trouble, I joined Isaac in bed. I didn’t climb in so much as I flopped backward, blacking out before I absorbed the pang of discomfort.

  The moaning of zombies chased me into oblivion.

  Chapter 19

  Seagulls were calling dibs on clams uncovered by distant waves by the time I woke, but Isaac hadn’t budged an inch. His fatigue was familiar to me. I endured the same burnout each time I swapped places with the wolf too often in a short timeframe. As much as I hated to wake him, we had a job to do and five days left to do it before the pack expected us home. Four, really, if you considered the time required to make the drive back.

  Stretched out beside him, I tangled my fingers in his hair and listened to him breathe. I shut my eyes and drew strength from him the way I might from the pack bond. It was odd being tied so tightly to another person instead of a collective, but it was a nice kind of odd.

  Taking pity on him, I left him snoring fit to please a hibernating bear and ventured into the kitchen to fix breakfast. I fell into the easy rhythm and let my mind drift. An hour later, I plated up cheese omelets, bacon, home fries made with potatoes fresh from the Stoners’ garden, bacon, pancakes and more bacon. I even made drop biscuits. By the time I woke Isaac, I was in full-on domestic goddess mode and contemplating the merits of fresh-squeezing my own orange juice.

  “Hey,” Isaac mumbled, turning on his side and hauling me close. In retrospect, perhaps climbing on the mattress wasn’t the best way to convince him to leave the bedroom. “You smell good. Like greasy food.”

  “Well, I am a Southern girl. Most of our comfort food requires the liberal application of butter or Crisco.”

  “Mmm,” he agreed, stomach rumbling as his belly got on board with the plan. “Let’s eat.”

  Sleep and his earlier snack had done him good. He zipped to the table and left me in his dust.

  Tiberius elected not to join us. He took his meal on the couch and asked around a mouthful if he could have more gold coins. I agreed while hoping he didn’t mean that literally. It was hard to tell with fae and even harder to tell with royalty.

  Conversation was reduced to forks scraping, light smacking and the long groan I released at the end before flipping open the top button of my jeans. All this convalescence had made them a tight fit, and the morning’s indulgence wasn’t helping. My figure would be in danger of resembling an Oreo if not for my supernatural metabolism.

  While Isaac cleared the plates and loaded the dishwasher, I located the file on the Bloodless. I was flipping through the pages when he joined me smelling of dish soap and chlorinated water.

  “Give me half.” Isaac accepted his stack and started thumbing through them. “That match jarred my memory ab
out a notation on one of these pages.”

  “We don’t know for sure that was the clue.” As the words left my mouth, I spotted an address and grinned at him. “Matchbox Avenue.” I tugged that paper out and skimmed. “There’s an empty grocery store, part of that chain that went bankrupt a few years back. The address is in Orange Beach.”

  “Let me check something.” He pulled out his phone and got to work. “I thought so. Orange Beach is only fifteen minutes away. Want to check it out?”

  “Sure.” I curled my finger so he leaned over the table. “If you tell anyone what I’m about to do, I will deny it, and you will never see me naked again.”

  “You’re a warg. I’m going to see you naked a lot, and I look forward to it.”

  Point to him. “Okay, fine. You’ll see me naked, but you can’t touch me.”

  “What could be that bad?” He cocked his head. “You’ve done some crazy stuff, Dell. What’s worse about this—whatever this is?”

  I plopped down in the passenger seat and lowered the window. He took the hint and got behind the wheel, guiding us down the private drive and back onto the main road. I waited until we passed the old water park to stick my head out the window, and he was lucky the air whipping around my head muted the sound of his guffaws.

  Due to the early hour, he was able to keep the speed low. That meant I could track Flower’s scent that much better and also got fewer bugs in my teeth. That was a win in my book. Her scent both tantalized and repulsed me in equal measure the entire length of the trip. Meaning she had walked the distance, an unheard of feat in this day and age.

  As I understood it, the king’s relocation effort meant the bulk of this army had once been enslaved in Faerie, so it fit. Modern transportation must be terrifying for those sheltered fae to behold. Not to mention ride in or drive. Walking, by comparison, was safe, familiar. The time it must take her to wander from place to place also explained how she had gotten left behind in the first place.

  Between my nose and the GPS, we located the shopping center with ease. I almost wished we hadn’t.

  The whole area had gone to seed. The grocery store was a massive eyesore, but it had plenty of company on either side. Depending on the size of the army, they wouldn’t have to do much creative space manipulation with this much room at their disposal. We rolled to a stop before the sliding glass front doors, and I tested the air.

  “She was here, and not long ago.” Though she hadn’t lingered on the cracked sidewalk. “I can’t tell if the trail dead ends at the door, or if it’s faint because she left soon after she arrived.” I leaned forward, scanning the storefront for signs of vandalism or surveillance. “How do we get in?”

  “We should go around back. Typically outfits like this have a few exits in the rear along with cargo bays for unloading supplies.” He pulled around to the rear and killed the engine. “We won’t have long to figure out how to get in until we draw attention to ourselves. There’s nowhere to hide out here, and they could be making use of the existing cameras.”

  “I doubt it.” Flower’s aversion to cars got me thinking. “These fae are Faerie stock. Slaves. Most would have had access to few amenities, let alone luxuries. Branwen might have recruited more Earth-savvy fae to help during the acclimation process, but I’m betting this is a low-tech operation out of necessity to keep the Bloodless calm.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he admitted.

  “That’s because you can’t imagine life without technology.”

  “You’re wrong.” A shudder rippled through him. “Sometimes I have nightmares about solar flares and the death of the world as we know it.”

  I patted his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you suffer. I’d pull your plug too.”

  He covered my hand with his. “You’re a good mate.”

  “No, I’m a liar.” I cast him a pitying stare. “You’re my zombie apocalypse buddy. Well, Faerie apocalypse seems more likely. You don’t get to curl up and die if the Internet goes down or we lose power. I’m not going to be widowed the first time you press a button that won’t power up.”

  Blue eyes, snatches of summer skies, stared mournfully at me. “I thought you loved me.”

  “I do love you.” So much I wasn’t sure I could live without him.

  The shiver that walked up my spine left me cold. No. I could survive him. I was strong enough not to tie my worth, my purpose, into another’s life. I had to be, or I would never be my own person.

  “You realize if the power grids go bust and tech doesn’t work, that includes appliances.” He let me connect the first couple of dots before lowering the killing blow. “That means coffee machines won’t work and those single cup pods you love so much will become obsolete. You’ll have to boil water to make coffee, and without electricity, you’ll have to start a fire first and—”

  “Okay, I get it.” I drew in a shuddering breath and held the gaze of the man I loved. “So… Suicide pact?”

  His eyes twinkled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Laughing at that point seemed like the appropriate response. Except I wasn’t sure I was kidding, and I wasn’t sure he was either.

  “Faerie has existed for millennia without electricity,” Tiberius informed us with all the self-importance of a teen who knew it all.

  “Technology is our magic,” Isaac argued. “Can you imagine life in Faerie without magic?”

  The prince fell into a contemplative silence, proving himself capable of examining a situation from another person’s perspective, and that gave me hope he might be a good ruler one day, all things considered.

  Usually Isaac didn’t require fresh blood to fuel his recalls. One drop would normally do for several. But when maintaining an aspect for long periods of time while simultaneously using varying facets of their magic, it was best to work with a fresh source. There was more power and more strength straight from the vein. Not to mention a deeper connection if a donor was used multiple times. I had seen that myself through Cam and Cord. The prince was a good sport about it too, which helped ease what must be an awkward transaction for both guys. Isaac, a Gemini used to collecting new aspects rather than maintaining known ones, and Tiberius, unused to playing pincushion for a power exchange.

  I retreated to the bedroom in search of my toolbox to give them privacy.

  After topping off, Isaac donned his alkonost aspect and took my hand. Invisible, we stepped out onto the cracked blacktop and began our inspection. A riot of clashing scents tickled my nose. Fae had been here. All kinds and within the last few hours. The freshest scent remained that of Flower, leading me to believe this lead would burn us too. She beat us here and had no doubt unearthed her next clue.

  The best option presented to us was breaking a lock on a rolling bay door that called Moore’s garage to mind. Since the unseen could definitely still be heard, I slid the chisel I’d taken from my tools from my back pocket, sent up a quick prayer that Pawpaw would forgive me, and then fit the tapered metal end to the hoop in the lock and threw a touch of my warg strength into wrenching it to the side.

  Metal groaned, and the lock clattered to the ground. The utter silence amplified the noise, and I winced and mouthed, Sorry to Isaac. I had to maintain contact with him to stay hidden, meaning there had been no free hand to catch the warped lock. It turned out that was the least of our problems. The steel siding had corroded, and rust bogged down the track. The door screamed like a dying rabbit when we forced it open.

  Stealthy, we were not.

  Every creak and groan redoubled the sensation of being watched that overcame me each time we exited the RV. Zed had warned we might be followed, but we had been careful up to this point. I prayed that trend continued.

  No army descended upon us. No fae attacked. No dust bunnies hopped across our boots. The interior was oddly clean and smelled like a mix between cut grass and fresh-squeezed lemons. I didn’t have to go far before locating the sweet-and-sour perfume I associated with Flower. Following my nose,
I backtracked to discover her entry point. She had walked through the front door—meaning it was either spelled or she had a key—and then made a beeline to the rear of the building.

  Not one for meandering, she had gone straight for the single-occupancy unisex bathroom sporting a handicapped logo on the door, removed the lid over the toilet tank and hauled something out. That is, if the rusty water droplets disturbing the light dust on the tile floor was any indication.

  Leaning a hip against the pedestal sink, I looked to Isaac and raised my eyebrows.

  “No signs of glamour concealing anything.” He released my hand and shed his aspect. “I think we’re safe to explore.”

  A clue falling out of the sky to show us the way seemed unlikely, at least until a box of raisins hit me on the shoulder and skidded across the floor. Slowly I tilted my head back and cursed. An emaciated girl clung to the ceiling from her wicked-sharp claws. A tattered nightgown clung to her bony frame, and old blood drenched her chest as though she had been attacked by a plate of spaghetti. Her black hair hung in a silken sheet, and her eyes were bottomless pits that made it impossible to determine if she did, in fact, have eyes or merely empty sockets.

  The relief I expected never swept through me. Sure, this girl might have been watching us since we entered the building, but she hadn’t been in Butler. The eyes on our backs seemed to multiply faster than we could do the math.

  Isaac spotted her a second later, but he was too late. She dropped from her crouch on the ceiling and leapt onto his shoulders. She went at his face, puckering her lips, zeroing in on his eyeballs like a Hoover.

  “We need…to talk,” he panted out while she slithered like an eel on top of him. “We don’t want…to hurt you.”