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I pulled out my screen, took a photo, and sent it to Petra. SYMBOL AT SIGN OF ATTACK, I messaged.CAN YOU FIND ORIGIN?
It was a challenge, I guessed, that she wouldn’t be able to resist.
ON ASSIGNMENTwas the message she returned.RESETTLING RIVER TROLL DUE TO CONSTRUCTION AND HE IS PRESENTLY TRYING TO PUSH SUV INTO RIVER.
I stared at the message for a moment, trying to figure out ifPetra—of the dry wit and sarcasm—was joking, or if I should contact Theo and have him send help.
JUST KIDDING, she said, before I could ask for clarification.IT’S ONLYA SEDAN.
She had a unique sense of humor.
NINETEEN
I was flipping through the cabin’s former guest book, which had been tucked among outdated travel guides and Minnesotan recipe books—heavy on the cranberries and wild rice—when there was shuffling at the back door.
I put down the book—having just read an entry about the owl that kept the Peterson family awake all night—and picked up my sword, then unsheathed it.
I was taking no more chances.
I crept to the door and, as it swung open, extended my katana against the neck of the person who entered.
Connor lifted his hands, grinned at me. “I’m at your mercy?”
I liked the sound of that more than I was willing to admit. I lowered the sword, tugged a lock of his hair with my free hand to pull him forward, and pressed my mouth to his. He wrapped his arms around me, then shifted our bodies so I was against the wall, his mouth hot on mine.
“Is that a sword,” he asked after a moment, “or are you glad to see me?”
“Both?”
He humphed, glanced down at the katana.
“You usually come through the other door,” I pointed out. “I was being careful.”
“Back door was closer. And I’m glad you were being careful. It made for quite a welcome home.”
“I’m feeling more myself.” I searched his face. “How was the memorial?”
“Surprisingly uneventful.” We walked back through the cabin. I sheathed the katana, put it back on the table.
“That is surprising.”
“It’s customary for all clan members to attend,” he said. “But that wasn’t going to happen here, and Cash knew he wasn’t going to win that battle. So the elders got the memorial they wanted, and the haters got to skip it. Attendance was low.”
“Interesting,” I said. “Mostly Loren’s generation?”
“Nailed it in one. The eulogy was about respecting your elders.”
“Also unsurprising,” I said. “You talked to Georgia? Gave her the update?”
“I did. She didn’t like it. We had some hard words, but she said she’d talk to Cash about a search. And how was your evening?”
“I found something interesting. Come here.” I took his hand, tugged him toward the patio doors.
“Why am I going outside again?”
“Because I want a second opinion.” I led him to the shutter, posed him in front of it, used the penlight to direct his attention to what I’d discovered. “What do you see?”
“One of many reasons that someone is going to get their ass very handily kicked?”
