“What’s he showing you?” Cas demanded.
Zane raised his free hand and flipped him off.
We waited for what seemed like hours until finally Brumous whimpered, a sound that carved my ribs open worse than any blade, and a line of blood trickled from Zane’s nose.
“Abort!” I lunged forward, but he was already recoiling, clutching his temples as he dropped backward onto his parallel ass. Brumous scrambled behind me, fur standing on end, pressing tight to my legs and shaking.
“Zane!” Casimir hauled him upright by his hoodie strings. “Status report!”
“All systems operating within acceptable parameters, sir.” His grin was shaky.
“Focus, jackass.”
Zane swiped at his nose, but left the tears to dry on his cheeks. For once, all his walls were down, and my heart pinched looking into his unguarded eyes.
And as he explained what Brumous showed him, we all looked at the wolf quivering under my palm, his jagged scars now a roadmap of devotion I hadn’t earned the right to understand yet.
#
Zane
Okay, so, using telepathy to talk to a stunted dire wolf? Not on my to-do list today.
But, hey, when your resident death dog might have the dirt on your beloved’s evil tormentors, you roll with it.
Cas ran a hand through his hair, obviously already regretting everything, as Brumous stared at me with those big, blue eyes.
Without further ado, I reached out with my mind.
Toto, you in there somewhere?
Nothing.
I touched my fingers to the side of his face, just under his ear.
Yo, Brummy. Can you hear me? Can you tell me about Seri? What did Arabesque do to her?
Andbam!The world tilted.
One second, I was sitting on our floor. The next, I was somewhere else. A barn, most likely, from the scents and textures. Seri braided straw into a crown. Set it on Brumous’ head. He thought her laughter tasted like strawberries.
“What’s he showing you?” Cas demanded, and I held up a finger.
Not a nice finger, either.
Not all of Brum-Brum’s words weren’t words,per se. They were shapes, sounds, instincts. His communication was built on emotions and sensations rather than language, like flashes of images accompanied by sights and smells and textures, and I needed to concentrate to catch it all.
Seri love me. See, Alpha Fun?
Alpha Fun? I snickered at that, wondering what Brummy called Ko and Cas, but decided to save it for another time.
Next the wolf took me somewhere hard, sharp, and reeking of despair. Showed me Seri lying on a hardwood floor. Too limp, too still, too pale. Arabesque standing over her. Brumous thought the Dark witch’s smirk smelled like burnt hair.
Bad Hurt Witch,he whispered, and his fear slammed into me.
It was the helpless kind of scared. The desperate kind. The kind that curled up tight in your chest and made you feel too small no matter how strong you were.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
