Storm whines. I frown down at her and lay my hand on her head, but she ducks it.
She’s annoyed. Anxious?
That sound could come from a person, a bear, a moose… Something with a relatively heavy footfall, as compared to a fox or rabbit.
I lift my gun, finger off the trigger. Whatever it is, it’s approaching the intersection and—
A muzzle appears. A gray canine muzzle.
A wolf.
“Oh, thank God,” a voice says, in the same second that my brain processes what I’m seeing and recognizes it as Nero and not a wild wolf.
Lilith rounds the corner with a heavy backpack over her shoulders. I lower the gun.
“I heard someone,” she says. “Nero didn’t seem concerned, so I was really hoping it was someone we knew.”
I holster my gun and whistle for Dalton. “That’s why Storm seemed annoyed that we’d stopped.” I pat her head. “Sorry, girl.” I look at that heavy pack. “Are you going somewhere?”
She draws closer, coming out of the shadows, and I see her face is drawn, eyes bleary.
“Lilith? What—?”
Dalton steps out behind her, and she whirls, sees it’s him, and exhales.
“Lilith?” I say.
“I’m taking you up on your offer of hospitality,” she says, trying for a light tone as she adjusts the pack. “Hope you’ve still got room for a guest.”
“Absolutely. But what happened?”
“I had a nighttime visitor.”
“What?”
She fusses with the straps again. “Someone spent half the night outside my cabin, which means I spent half the night sitting inside with a damn rifle.”
“Oh shit. Come on then, and tell us what happened.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We talk with Lilith as we return to Haven’s Rock. Or I talk to her, while Dalton follows with the canines. We keep our voices down, but I want her story before we reach town, where others can overhear.
“Nero was out last night,” she says. “He’s not a pet, and he usually prefers to stay outside at night. Sometimes he hangs around, but other times he’s off hunting or wandering or whatever wolves do. After you told me what was happening, I’d have liked him inside with me, and I would have insisted on it, but when I went to ask him to come inside, he was gone. I heard him a little while later, howling to other wolves, and I knew he was out for the night, so I battened down the hatches.”
She looks at me. “There’s an interior latch on the door, but no lock. I just closed everything up and made sure my rifle was out, while telling myself I was overreacting.”
“Which you weren’t.”
“Apparently not. I wasn’t worried enough to sit up all night with the rifle on my knees, though. I read by candlelight and then fell asleep around midnight. An hour later, a noise outsidewoke me, which proves I was calm enough to fall asleep, but not soundly. Still, I figured it was Nero, and I was going to try to entice him inside with a bone. Half asleep, I opened the door, completely forgetting what you’d said until I looked out and there was no sign of Nero. Then a twig cracked, and I got my ass back inside fast.”
She’s quiet as we turn a corner with care, making sure it’s empty ahead. Then she continues, “I still told myself I was overreacting. It definitely wasn’t Nero—he’d have come out when the door opened. But a cracking twig could be anything. I was jumpy because Nero wasn’t around, and I’m also not accustomed to hearing noises at night because Nero usuallyisaround.”
“He keeps any critters from getting close.”
“You’ve seen that firsthand. Whether I’m home or not, he guards the cabin, and nothing is coming near it. So I tried to settle. I sure as hell wasn’t sleeping—and I didn’t feel comfortable lighting a candle to read—but I tried to just lie down and relax, with the gun beside my bed.”
She glances back, as if checking on Nero. He’s padding along behind Storm, bringing up the rear.
