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“Can we please get back on track?” Flint’s hands move to his hips as he releases an exasperated sigh. “We’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.”
“Indeed.” Xander opens a large drawing pad on the table, its pages filled with cramped handwriting and arcane symbols.
Xander briefs us on the spell they came up with, pointing to the various circles as if they hold meaning for us.
When I glance at Marc, his eyes look glazed over while next to him, Darius stares at the space to the right of the sketchpad, his expression pinched as he listens. A peek at Pen shows her leaning back in her seat, not even pretending to follow his complex diagrams.
Flint sighs and taps Xander on the arm, stopping him. “It’s no use trying to explain to them how it works. They’re complete duds in the spell craft department.”
“Can’t say he’s wrong,” Marc drawls. “So, in layman terms, you’ve built something to track when a black dog enters the human plane?”
“Yes.” Reese lifts what appears to be a tablet duct taped to a DNA monitor used to test for Otherness in people’s blood. “It took a bit of tinkering, but we think this will work, and not just for black dogs. We can set alerts for any foreign energy entering the human plane, such as the akuzal, who have been slipping through tears.”
Respect fills me. The dangerous predators are a constant nuisance, and every time they break through the veil, they rush toward the most populated areas to gorge. If we could be notified the second they cross over, it would save so many lives.
“One emergency at a time. Let’s show them how it works.” Flint takes the device and gingerly sets it on the table. “Instead of reading blood for traces of Otherness, we programmed this to recognize essence, or the energy of a being, and we spelled the tablet to act as a dowsing rod. A lot more goes into it, but you get the gist.”
Savannah displays a stone square with a complex symbol burned onto the surface. “Flint and I pulled this from the site where you all last saw the Fox God.”
Flint waves a little strip of paper the size of my pinky. “This is the same symbol, only much smaller.”
He slips the strip into the top of the essence scanner and a green light flicks to life, followed by a beep.
Grinning, Flint lifts the device and turns in a slow circle, and the beeping increases in volume until he faces Orianna, who lies sprawled on the floor in front of the coffee stand.
She rolls onto her back, her tail wagging.
Flint continues to turn, and the beeps slows, then picks up speed again when he comes back around to face Orianna once more.
“Good girl.” He pulls the strip from the reader to stop the sound. “Now for the good part.”
Savannah displays a second stone tile from the table and holds it aloft like a trophy. “This is the symbol for the Wild Hunt’s black dog.”
Pulse quickening, I lean forward. “Are you saying we have the black dog’s essence?”
“That’s exactly what we’re saying.” Flint slips a new strip of paper into the machine, and the light on top turns red. “Now, we just need to wait for it to reappear so we can track it.”
black dog’s bite
- Pen -
My head bobs before I snap myself upright in my chair. In the chair next to mine, Sharpe slumps low, his eyes closed, jaw covered in scruff from neglecting to shave.
Silence fills the conference room, the only sounds coming from the soft breathing of my team and the hum of Meredith’s computers.
After Johannsson delivered my shoes and brought food for the team, we’d settled down to wait, but one-by-one, sleep claimed each of us as the hours ticked by.
Now, the clock by the door reads two in the morning. I shift to ease the kink in my back and rub the grit from my tired eyes.
Flint lies on the floor by the coffee machine, Anny curled up on his stomach. Savannah sprawls on the large table, one muscular arm under her head. Darius and Marc sit against the wall, shoulders pressed together.
Exhaustion drags at my eyelids again, and my head nods, on the verge of dozing off again, when a sudden beep pierces the silence.
Startled, I nearly fall out of my chair, glancing around at my sleeping companions.
Flint stirs on the floor, his familiar yawning and stretching. Savannah remains motionless on the table, the tattoos on her dark skin quiet. Darius and Marc seem undisturbed, deep in their slumber.
Beside me, Sharpe shifts, not yet fully awake.
