“Thanks.”
“No problem. You’re welcome to add some of the chicken to your mac n’ cheese for protein too if you want,” he offers, amusement clear in the tone of his voice.
“I’ll have you know there is already protein in there,” I say haughtily.
“Oh, right. In the processed cheese powder.”
“Exactly.”
He chuckles and it makes my stomach flip again.
It keeps happening, and I tell myself to chill out, but something about the deep rumble just resonates with me and I can’t help my body’s reaction to it.
When we’re all rung up, I try to pay, but Becks shakes his head and hands the clerk cash. I feel a little bad that he’s been footing the bill for all our food and lodgings, but I resolve to make it up to him after all of this is said and done.
Assuming I don’t die, that is.
With that morbid thought rattling in my head, we get back in the car and make our way through narrow and windy roads toward the safe house. After about fifteen minutes, the road turns into a one-lane dirt road. Becks shifts the car into a lower gear as we crawl over the snow-covered ground. I ask him if he’s sure we’re still headed in the right direction, because eventually the road seems to disappear. It’s like we’re weaving through sparse forest rather than driving on a manmade road, but he assures me we are.
Another half-hour passes before we finally reach a small clearing at what appears to be the top of a mountain where a lone log cabin is nestled into the trees.
The cabin is modest in size, two stories and I’d guess about two or three bedrooms. There’s a stone chimney rising from the roof on the right side of the house, and a covered porch with two wooden rocking chairs and an end table between them.
From the outside, the cabin looks rustic, and I wonder if the inside has the same vibes.
Becks parks the SUV out front and we pile out, my feet sinking into an inch of fresh snow.
“Let’s go check it out,” Becks says, waving me over. “I’ll come back to get the stuff in a minute.”
I follow him up the few front steps to the covered porch. I should have grabbed my coat, because the icy mountain air nips at my exposed skin.
Becks reaches out, flicks open a rectangular panel next to the door, and presses his thumb to a small screen.
My eyebrows jump up. “It has a biometric lock?”
“Yep,” Becks says, and then I hear not one, but four locks disengaging.
“That seems a little extreme.”
He shrugs. “Talon isn’t one for taking chances when it comes to things like this. He texted that he had the cabin outfitted with all the latest upgrades in security measures. Besides the front and back doors, all the windows are bulletproof and have electronic locks.”
I glance at what can only be described as the wilderness around us. We haven’t seen anyone in almost an hour.
It’s not like this is a place someone is just going to stumble across. And on the way up, Becks told me Talon somehow even got the cabin wiped from public records.
“Again, that seems a little extreme.”
“Maybe, but Talon takes safety and secrecy very seriously. It was ingrained in him from the Society.”
“The Society?”
“The Arcane Society. It’s kind of like the creature world’s version of the Silent Order, but even more secretive. Talon’s family has been running it for generations.”
Hmm, that sounds interesting. I want to ask more about the creature world, but Becks is already opening the front door and cautiously entering the cabin. He scans the space once before stepping aside to let me in.
My first impression of the cabin’s interior is that it’s cozy, which feels at odds with all its high-tech security measures. The space is decorated with warm earthy tones, and the walls are stacked logs like the exterior.
We enter into a small foyer. Off to the right is a family room with a plush L-shaped couch in front of an open fireplace. It looks perfect for lounging and reading a good book. Directly to the left is a round wooden table, large enough to seat six. Behind it is the kitchen, the cabinets a dark forest green with upgraded appliances.
