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I stopped at an intersection and glanced in the direction of the Devil’s Playground. Nope. Not going that way. The prince of hell could rot in … well, hell.
My truck fishtailed here and there, but the road conditions were decent. I’d seen the plows out earlier, so I had faith that Gary could manage. Nevertheless, I drove cautiously, because of the ice and also in case the dog or any other animal decided to take a leap of faith in front of my truck. Gary’s response time was reflective of his age. One slick patch on the road, and I’d take out the dog and myself in one swift maneuver.
I reached my destination and parked the truck at the head of the trail for the Falls. If I were a desperate dog, I’d head for the nearest water source. I hoped the animal was smart enough not to venture into a partially frozen river though.
Magical energy crackled as I drew closer to the waterfall. My powers were strong no matter where I was in the world, but this area seemed to magnify them. I could practically feel my skin buzzing with pent-up energy.
No dog. No tracks, although the snow played a role in that. Anything that had been on the forest floor was covered by now. I should’ve searched for the dog after my conversation with the wolves this morning. I felt a twinge of guilt for not giving it more consideration, especially after I’d mentally chastised Xander for his lack of compassion.
The only animals I saw during my search were deer, rabbits, foxes, and squirrels. I thought of the dead buck and wondered whether he’d been related to the young deer I spotted. I shut out the thoughts and ventured closer to the crossroads, where I spied two werewolves huddled againstthe base of a giant oak tree. They were hunched over their respective phones, immersed in whatever was happening on the small screens. Their clothing was far less layered than mine, a benefit of the lupine blood that coursed through their veins.
I kept waiting for them to notice me, but their noses remained buried in their phones.
I cleared my throat as I got within two feet of them. “You know, I could be a terrible monster that walked straight through the crossroads and killed you both because you weren’t paying attention.”
The brunette I recognized as Bree deigned to look up at me. “I was aware of you. I just put you in the not-a-threat category and kept playing.”
Her companion didn’t bother to glance up. “I don’t need to see you to know you’re the chick from the Ruins. You have a very distinct smell.”
I tried not to get my hackles up. “Do I?”
“Usually, it’s sweat and bacon. Today there’s a little soap mixed in. Did you shower right before you left the house?”
“Yes,” I lied. As a matter of fact, he smelled the soap from the spray mixture I used to steam clean the mural. Damn werewolf senses. “What’s so important on your phones that you can’t be bothered to acknowledge me?”
The one who wasn’t Bree held up his phone to show me. “Cat videos on TikTok. I’m not allowed to watch them at home, so I save them all for when I’m on duty.”
“TikTok is banned in your house?” I asked.
“No, cat videos are. My brother thinks it’s weird for a werewolf to enjoy them, but these cats are flippin’ hilarious.” He turned the phone around. “I follow this one orange Tabby.” Laughing, he shook his head. “He’s always getting stuck in random places around the house. So funny.”
Bree tapped on her phone. “I’m playing Duolingo, but it’sso cold that my phone battery is close to dying. If I don’t finish, I’ll lose my four-hundred-and fifty-three-day streak.”
“Speaking of dying,” I said, immediately aware of what a terrible segue that was. I’d properly chastise myself later. “Were either one of you on duty last night?”
At the mention of last night, their faces turned somber.
“No, thank the gods,” Bree said. “It was hard enough hearing about Chutney. I wouldn’t have wanted the visual.”
“Did the guards hear what happened?” I asked. There was no better way of asking whether they heard their fellow pack member explode.
Bree knocked her knee against her companion’s. “Meathead’s brother did.”
Meathead nodded. “Ivan said it sounded like gunshots. He couldn’t leave his post, so he called West to report it.”
“Any idea if Chutney had health issues?”
Bree barked a laugh. “You think he blew up because of a health issue? I’d love to know the diagnosis for that.”
“I have no idea what happened to him. That’s why I’m asking questions.”
Meathead peered up at me. “I didn’t know you were a cop.”
“I’m not. West asked me to help out.” Okay, he didn’t ask me to interrogate his guards, but still.
Meathead continued to look at me, as though trying to make up his mind about something. Finally, he said, “Okay then.”
“I take it there hasn’t been much excitement at the crossroads tonight.”
