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Demetrius checked his watch, then told me, “I take it Hamid would not object to arranging for travel for more warm bodies than yourself.”
Sure he could. In fact, I was a few steps ahead of Demetrius, but no point in telling him that. “I can be on my way in an hour. Assuming the warm bodies can be packed.”
“I do not take long to pack,” Searle said flatly.
“Make it the day after tomorrow, in the afternoon,” Demetrius said, consulting his laptop screen. “I have a few things to take care of in the morning.”
“You, Alpha?” I asked.
“I’m coming with you. You thought I was going to hand you the key or trust FrostFangare to let you in?”
“Well, no, but—”
“And,” he said with a hint of wicked pride, “Iread Old Norse. Fluently. Runic and Latin alphabets.”
Marcella gave me a prim, elegant smile with just a hint of smugness. Hell, if Sterling could read Old Norse fluently in two different alphabets, I’d be a bit smug, too. “I can muddle through the Latin, then. Doyouspeak an old tongue?”
Searle gave me a cryptic smile. “No, but I can look for drawings that resemble the pendant.”
There was a chance there was, in fact, a drawing. Many formal announcements and records and such had drawings, usually just fanciful adornments, but I had seen sketches to show the markings on particular horses or cows, or sketches of distinctive scars.
So. Going to the Archives. I’d gotten my wish.
It would be a distraction right when I needed it most as well. And I wasn’t going to go have to go with Searle. Demetrius would be around if Searle got pushy.
Demetrius squeezed his mate’s thigh. “You can handle the Meeting preparations without me?”
She glared at him. “I can even get the kids to school on time too.”
Demetrius chuckled while Marcella kicked him in the ankle. He rolled his eyes towards her. “You’ll miss me. Admit it.”
“Never,” she said sweetly.
“You mean until I get back?”
“Maybe if you’re lucky. Bring me some salty licorice and I’ll think about it.”
“You don’t evenlikelicorice.”
Searle allowed himself a grimace.
“I don’t know, licorice is pretty amazing,” I said to myself.
All three of them looked at me like I’d just confessed to also enjoying circus peanuts on my s’mores instead of a proper marshmallow. I looked at my toes. “Cye made the best licorice frosting….”
I shut up before I said another word about Cye. Nobody at SnowFang had ever complained about Cye’s licorice frosting. Jun and Sterling being absolute garbage guts, though, so that wasn’t exactly a vote of confidence.
Marcella gave Demetrius another nudge. “Salty licorice. And don’t let Summer eat it.”
Taking The Tears
Considering I’d never aspired to be the Chronicler or an Elder Luna, it’d also never occurred to me to aspire to enter the Archives.
I’d believed Dad when he’d said he’d kill me.
At the time, it’d seemed a pretty reasonable thing for him to say.
Searle folded shirts. “You’re thinking.”
