My wings snap back in an aggressive pose. Good thing I’m out of sight.
“What an odd thing to think, Freddy. I’ll see you in a week or so, when my leave is over,” Arch grits out and he clears the holo.
We look at each other silently for a moment before I jump to my feet. I pace, wings flexing.
“Do they have her? Do they have myomega?” I snarl.
Arch stands and crosses to me, wrapping his arms about me and stopping my frantic pacing. “Wherever she is, we’ll get her.”
I see Theo stand and head to us as he adds, “Besides, if that stonemoss had her, he’d have crowed about it.”
I nod slowly, eyes closing as I lean into Arch.
Theo snuggles into us silently.
The chime of the holo-caller is jarring in the quiet room.
We all spin, Arch getting there first.
“Hello.” A surly female voice.
I lean over Arch where he sits, holding the holo. A blonde human woman.
“Are you Arch?” she asks, still pissy. It makes me smile as it sounds similar to Fern.
“Yes,” he near-whispers.
“Fern needs you. For reasons I don’t understand.” She huffs. Off screen, I hear a whimper. It runs through me and I find my wings raised as I shiver.
Fern. That’s Fern.
Arch straightens. “Is she alright?”
The blonde frowns. “She’s not injured from battle, if that is what you mean. But she needs you. Come under darkness, we’remost likely being surveilled. We’re at the Upper Woodbridge wayhouse.” And she blanks the holo.
“Fuck that,” Arch spits, standing and pacing quickly to the bedroom. “We leave now.”
I spin, headed for the kitchen.
Theo stands and stretches.
Grabbing a bag, I throw raisins, a water flask, and the med kit in. Turning, looking at my loves, my bond mates, I say, “Let’s go get our bride.”
THE FLIGHT TO UPPERWoodbridge is an easy southeast one. It’s a brisk fall morning, and not one of us gives a single whit about being seen.
I think Arch and Theo are planning on—proverbially—blowing some shit up back at the office, at the Quorum. I don’t care.
I don’t even care if I lose my position as a lead scientist. All I care about is making sure my omega is safe.
We land at the wayhouse, currently surrounded by makeshift tents. Shaking my wings off, I tuck them in as I grimace, eyes going over the human refugees.
The wayhouse itself is set back off the road a ways, and near to a fast moving stream. It’s a tall, narrow building of log, studded with small windows. Theo strides to the steps and opens the door. We follow him in.
It’s dim and warm, smelling of good stew and woodsmoke. I see a rough wooden bannister on the second and third floors, directly across from the entrance. Doors line each narrow walkway.
The human innkeeper is a big, brawny-but-gone-soft human man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He clears his throat. “Can I help you, sirs?”
“Two human women. Leaders. One blonde, one brown haired. Where are they?” Arch tries to keep the snarl from his voice but it’s not working.
