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“There were two men guarding the entrance to these woods. Are they the werewolves you referred to earlier?”
They weren’t, but I ignored the question. “How did you get past them?”
“I did not hurt them if that is your question. I only tricked them into running the opposite direction to investigate a sound.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and made a strange noise that seemed to emanate from behind me.
“What is that?” I asked.
He grinned. “The mating call of a whipper-crackle. I suspect your guardians did not know what to make of it.”
“I highly doubt it, or they wouldn’t have been so quick to investigate. Now, tell me what you expected to find here, and maybe I can help.” As the self-appointed liminal deity of the crossroads, I felt a sense of obligation to preserve the peace.
He pressed his lips together. “I think I should wait here until my contact arrives.”
Sian’s nose glowed red. Poor guy wasn’t dressed for this weather. He had to be numb by now.
“If you wait outside any longer, you’ll be sent home as a fae-cicle. Come with me.”
His gaze dropped to the dagger in my hand. “Why should I?”
“Because I’m going to take you to one of your kind and let you hash this out together.”
He seemed taken aback. “My kind live here?”
“Not many, but yes.”
He nodded slowly. “Then yes, I would appreciate the introduction. Perhaps I will even find what I seek there.”
My stomach rumbled, and I began to regret turning down Kane’s invitation. Sage and her grandmother didn’t live too far from here. I could dump Robin Hood in their laps and still have enough time to cook a pot of chili when I got home.
“Right this way, Sian.”
He maintained a safe distance from me as we walked. I got the distinct impression he’d been on the receiving end of many lectures about the treacheries of this world.
“How old are you, Sian?”
“Twenty-one in human years.”
That explained the doe-eyed look. “What’s wrong with your mom?”
The only sound was the crunch of a branch beneath my boot.
“I’m sorry she isn’t well.”
His gaze flicked to me, as though trying to discern the sincerity of the remark. “Thank you,” he said.
A heavy grunt alerted me to someone’s presence. I peered through the trees to see Sage outside chopping wood. Her blonde hair was tucked behind a green bandana that framed her round, cheerful face.
We stepped into the clearing. With another grunt, she split one more log before stopping to acknowledge us. “Lorelei, hi.”
“How’s it going, Savage?”
She smirked. “I stand by my claim.”
When I first met Sage, she introduced her name as Savage, which her grandmother promptly denied.
“Sage, this is my new friend, Sian. There’s a situation I hope you can help him with.”
Her gaze skated to Sian. “You’re one of us.”
