I shook my head. “Not unless I can convince you to take over the admin work…” I suggested hopefully.
Johnson laughed, tossing his shaggy head. “Nope,” he said, “Not a chance. I’ll leave you to it.”
And with that, he rose from his seat, grabbing another cookie before leaving me looking bleakly between my computer and the pile of invoices waiting to be processed.
I spent the rest of the day trying to clear my desk of paperwork. The trouble was, it seemed like every piece of admin that I had to do involved getting something done by someone outside the pack. It never seemed to be straightforward. There were always multiple phone calls or emails before I could eventually get the desired result.
I picked up a pen, turning it over and over in my hand while I considered whether to call the local police about Agelius but decided to give him one more day to reappear. Maybe he’d decided he didn’t want to stay with us after all? He’d been without a pack when he’d first turned up, and it was possible he’d decided the pack lifestyle didn’t suit him. Though… I found it hard to believe. He’d fitted in well here and had seemed happy enough, if a little subdued. And the look on his face when I upgraded him to leadership! I shook my head, puzzled. Something didn’t add up.
When the digital clock on my desk finally showed 5:00, I sighed. Pushing the pile of papers away, I rested my forehead against the cool timber of the desk, allowing my mind to clear.
Paperwork and administration were not things I enjoyed, but they were part of my responsibility as Pack Alpha, and I liked to get them out of the way early in the week so I could concentrate on actual farming for the rest of the time. But I wasn’t going to work overtime on it.
When I left my office for the day, I was surprised to find Isca at a loose end in the lounge room, idly flicking through movies.
I came up behind him on the couch and ran my hands through his curls, the silky strands deliciously soft over my fingers. When he turned his head to me, I touched my lips to his briefly.
“How was your class?” I asked him, as I straightened.
“Good,” he said, “but tiring. I like it though.”
“I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy,” I told him, then looking around, “Where’s Irian?”
Isca’s brow wrinkled. “He’s not back from town yet. Did he have something else he had to do, besides the shopping, I mean?”
“Not that he told me,” I replied, frowning. “Have you called him?”
“Yeah, several times. His phone just switches out to voicemail.”
That made me uneasy. It was unusual for Irian to stay away from us so long, unless he had a specific task he needed to do. But I hadn’t felt anything amiss through our mind-bond during the day. There’d been a moment where I’d detected some confusion, but as it had been followed by a feeling of relief, I had dismissed it as something minor, and hadn’t worried. Maybe I should have.
Tentatively, I reached out to him through the bond, probing gently. There was nothing there. Nothing came back to me. Nothing at all. The bond was quite silent, like a vast empty hall, which was strange. I nudged again, more firmly. Still no response. My unease grew. There was nothing specifically wrong, but it didn’t feel right either.
I began pacing the room, Isca’s large brown eyes watching me anxiously. I tried to think of scenarios where Irian mightn’t respond to my call; none of them were reassuring, but in all cases, I was sure I would have been alerted through our bond.
“Did you feel anything through the mate bond?” I asked Isca. He shook his head, teeth macerating his lower lip, eyes wide and frightened.
“No,” he breathed. “Should I have?”
The frown lines creasing his forehead grew deeper.
I shook my head. “Not necessarily. You don’t have as much experience with using the bond, and I didn’t feel anything… well, nothing that I thought was anything at the time.”
Sliding my phone from my back pocket, I checked the time. The shops hadn’t been shut that long…
By 6 o’clock, I was beginning to panic. I went outside, just to check, but Irian’s car still wasn’t there. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called Johnson.
“Do you know where Irian is?” I asked, without even greeting him.
“Ah, no,” he replied. “He didn’t come back from town?”
“No.”
“The shops are closed now,” he said, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
“I know. His car’s not here, and he’s not answering my call. I… I’m going to call the police,” I swallowed hard, “in case, you know, there’s been an accident.”
A car accident was a genuine worry out here in the country. There had been some terrible ones. The roads were winding, the speed limit high, and the city folk passing through were often unused to the conditions. Locals had died through no fault of their own.
