Page 11 of Scout’s Honor

Dallas gave his sister his best assessing big brother look. She rolled her eyes.

“Your glow is stronger,” he told her.

Her hand flew to her chest, the snarky expression falling off her face. “My what?”

Dallas shook his head slightly. “I told you that you glowed when you were seven. You hit me with a wiffle bat.”

“I…I don’t remember that,” she said.

Dallas tore open a bag of chips and ate one, his mind a whirling tornado, his eyes roaming over the room.

“And you’re covenbound,” Dakota finally said. “Do you know what that means yet?”

Dallas smiled, filing the word away for later. “I know it means I’m staying here… which is the best news I’ve heard all week.”

He stood and took off to roam the house, strangely thinking that the stuff missing from his car was somewhere here, in the house. He followed a set of stairs leading down and found a rec room with a pool table as the centerpiece, and a hallway to two doors. He opened one because it felt right.

Inside was a military bunk, a military desk and chair, and all of his suitcases! He opened the biggest one. Three lower leg prosthetics were inside, wrapped in their casings. Perfect. The next suitcase held clothes, and the last one had his military paperwork, a second pair of boots, his bathroom gear, plus a thick, strong cylinder of lightning sand, which was the only thing he’d saved from his former life that wasn’t essential.

Dallas made his way to the bed and lay down on the camo-green blanket and the crisp white pillow. He fell asleep in moments, feeling like he belonged somewhere for the first time since the Navy had medically discharged him for being dumb enough to get shot up on a mission.

8—ROWWR

Dallas growled deep in his throat at the memory of that first morning in the magical house. Someone had made him a turkey bacon omelet with cheese for breakfast and it’d been dope. Everything since had been good, but he was holding out hope that he’d get another turkey omelet soon.

He turned around again and drove past the building. The woman was in her car, waiting to pull out onto the road. Dallas passed her and watched her in his rearview mirror. She pulled onto the highway going the opposite direction. Dallas waited until she’d crested a hill, then he did a quick U-turn and stepped on it until he could see the blue glow again.

He followed until she pulled into a residential subdivision, then directly into a garage. She’d gotten home safely, and so Dallas turned toward home himself.

If she was a switch, she’d show up at a ‘Cause’ event eventually. He looked forward to it.

Dallas drove down the road toward home, just driving and zoning out… when the name of the magical house popped into his head.

Credence!

The garage door opened on its own and Dallas drove straight into his spot, which was marked with a pawprint. He got out of the car and made his way through the cavernous garage into the kitchen. Bottles of water sat on the counter and Dallas opened one and downed it, then he headed for the fridge. Inside was all manner of drinks and snacks, along with a container marked DALLAS. He peeked inside and found a three-meat lasagna. Nice.

He grabbed it out and ate three huge spoonfuls cold, then covered it and shoved it back in the fridge, grabbing another bottle of water and heading out of the kitchen. Near the door was a small chalkboard where someone had written ‘SKREEEEEEE.’

Dallas erased it and wrote ‘ROWWR.’

He headed for his room but stopped when he heard something. Was someone calling for help? He stalked through the living room, down the hallway that led to Dakota’s room.

Aven was sprawled out on the floor near the door, his legs stuck out into the dimly-lit hallway, wearing only a pair of shorts.

“Water,” he called theatrically, stretching his hand out toward Dallas.

Dallas tossed him the water bottle, staying at the far end of the hallway, trying not to smell the sex in the air.

Aven cracked it open and downed it in a few swallows, then said, “That Prowl is no joke.”

“Dude,” Dallas growled. He heard whisperings of what the Prowl was. “I don’t want to know!”

The door opened and Dakota leaned against the frame, her hair wet like she’d just showered, wearing a tiny blue babydoll-style nightgown, her gaze on Aven. Dallas covered his eyes and whipped around so he couldn’t see his little sister.

“There you are,” Dakota said. “You naughty little—”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Dallas shouted.