"No. I can tell you're thinking extremely hard about something, so much so that I canalmosthear you thinking, but it's not quite loud enough. Maybe if you worrysome more—hey, where are you going?"
Paying no attention to the smartass demon and focusing on the sound instead, I follow the noise through the cabin and to the bedroom.
A faint buzzing, and then... wait. That's definitely my ringtone. Which makes absolutely no sense.
The first thing I did before breaking Marlow out of custody was power down my phone and bury it deep in my duffel bag. No way to track a dead phone. That's, like, fugitive 101.
Yet here it is, singing away like a digital canary.
I dart to where my bag sits in the corner, yanking it open and digging through the mess of hastily packed clothes. Pulling out my phone, I stare at the screen in disbelief. It's fully charged andshowing full bars despite our remote location. A new message notification blinks insistently.
The message is from Josh Fielding. My cousin Bane’s mate.
Josh: We should meet up.
Wynn: Did you turn my phone back on?
Josh: Yes.
Wynn: How?
Josh: Magic.
Obviously. Ask a stupid question. Josh is a resourceful witch. He found a way to contact me.
Wynn: Meeting up isn't a good idea.
Josh: The time for good ideas ended when you broke someone out of the dungeons.
Wow. Josh knows what I did. Seeing the words makes my heart leap into my throat. How the hell does he know? Is he trying to give me a heart attack?
Another message comes through.
Josh: Bane and I aren’t angry. Let us help.
Dragging my best friend and his mate into this mess? No way. They don’t deserve to get caught in the chaos I’ve stumbled into.
Josh: We’re meeting up. I’ll bring food. What other supplies do you need?
Ugh, well played. Hard to argue with supplies. He isn't giving me much choice, and we could use all the help we can get.
~
Wynn
Through the towering pine trees, I scan the forest below our perch. The rocky outcrop gives us the perfect vantage point to spot anyone approaching, friend or foe. Marlow crouches beside me, tension radiating from him.
I made an argument for meeting Josh alone, but he wasn't interested in debating. He only said “fuck that” and wouldn't let me out of his sight for a second, so here we are.
Movement down below. A lean wolf with sandy-colored fur weaves between the trees. His slight build and coloring are unmistakable.
"That's Josh," I whisper, though there's no real need for stealth. "He came alone like he promised."
"He doesn’t have supplies," Marlow whispers.
"Maybe they're in a backpack."
"He doesn’t have a backpack."
