“It won’t,” Wren interrupts. “Have faith, Grim.”
Faith. Right. That’s worked out so well for me in the past.
I nod and try to give her what I hope is a smile.
I resume my pacing, my dragon getting more agitated with each passing second.
Wren moves to the window, peering out through the curtains. Her body is tense, every muscle coiled.
Another few agonizing minutes tick by.
I heave a sigh of relief when Falkor pulls up outside.
Wren spins to face me.
“I told you,” she says, and a smile breaks across her face.
I smile back. Relief crashes through me. I brace my hand against the back of the sofa, taking a deep breath.
Thank fuck.
The garage door creaks open, then closes. Footsteps on the concrete. The door to the house opens, and Falkor steps inside.
I’m moving before I can think, crossing the room in three long strides. I pull the old male into a quick, fierce hug before stepping back.
“You’re okay,” I say, my voice gruff with emotion.
“Of course I’m okay.” Falkor pats my arm, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I told you I would be.”
Wren rushes over, and Falkor opens his arms to embrace her, too.
As they release one another, he looks over at me, and I see disappointment clouding his features.
My gut clenches.
“What happened?” I ask, keeping my voice level even though I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake the information out of him. “Were you able to get in?”
Falkor sighs, moving past us into the living room. He lowers himself into his armchair. Wren and I follow, perching on the sofa across from him.
“I made it through a checkpoint on the way there,” he begins, folding his hands in his lap. “There was a guard checking IDs, but I had my old letter saying I was overdue, so he waved me through without much fuss.”
I nod.
“Then I got to the parking area for the Vaccination Center,” Falkor continues. “There was a guard stationed at the entrance. He had an iPad, checking everyone before they could enter.”
My jaw tightens. “And?”
“He looked me up on the system.” Falkor’s mouth twists. “He told me I’d already been vaccinated. Told me I wasn’t due for another year.”
Shit.
“What did you say?” Wren leans forward, her eyes locked on Falkor.
“I acted like I couldn’t remember going.” Falkor shrugs. “I put on my best confused old man routine. Told him I had this letter saying I was overdue, that I didn’t recall getting my shot.”
“Did he buy it?” I ask.
“He assured me I’d had my vaccination.” Falkor pulls the crumpled letter from his pocket, smoothing it out on his knee. “He told me the letter I had was old, and that everything was in order. That I could go back home. So I wasn’t granted access to the grounds.”
