Tyr waved them out of the driveway and went back to the house.
He had taken possession of it just a few days ago, and he was still living out of a suitcase. There was an empty, tomblike feeling to the place. But in spite of Austin’s gloomy predictions, it wasn’t horribly run down. Some furnishings had come with the house, so there was a couch to sit on and even some mismatched dishes in the kitchen.
What it didn’t feel like washis. Tyr stood in the front hall for a few minutes, looking around at someone else’s wallpaper, someone else’s painting of irises, someone else’s secondhand end table.
Then he heaved a sigh and went into the kitchen.
He had bought a ton of snacks for the kids, wanting them to feel at home while having little clear idea of what a fifteen-year-old and a nine-year-old, neither of whom he knew well after so many years apart, might like to eat. The result looked like a convenience store had unloaded in his kitchen: boxes of cereal (but he had forgotten milk), bags of chips and cookies, some apples since he had suddenly remembered that healthy food was a thing, and a few frozen pizzas, which he belatedly put in the freezer.
One of these was probably going to be dinner. Hedoubted if any of the handful of restaurants in town delivered out on the highway.
His griffin stirred inside him.Shift and hunt?
Not now.
His griffin was restless. Ever since he had moved into the house earlier this week, it had been after him to make the place nice.Nest! For hatchlings! And mate!
Not now!
He didn’t know what to think about his griffin suddenly going off on a “mate” tangent now, of all times. Could it still think that he was with Paula? But she never had been his mate, even when they were together. He had loved her, and his griffin had been delighted and proud of their fledglings. But these “mate” feelings were new and strange, and Tyr wasn’t sure what to think about them. Maybe it was the griffin equivalent of a ticking biological clock.
She’s with another guy now. He makes her happier than we ever could have. Knock it off.
Mate,was his griffin’s response.Make the nest nice. Hunt for her.
Tyr was too tired and disheartened to bother explaining to his griffin that his mate, whether Paula or someone else, wasn’t going to fall into his lap just because he brought home a fat rabbit. Instead he’d end up cooking a rabbit in a kitchen that possessed exactly one pan and two lids, neither of which fit it.
He was reading the microwave directions on the pizza box when his phone rang.
“Is this Terry Raines?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
“Yes,” Tyr said warily. This person must be human; one of his own kind would have used his real name. He wasn’t in hiding, as such. But he couldn’t think of a single good reason why anyone would be looking for him. Could it besomething to do with the house? He’d thought the paperwork was done and filed ...
“This is the Autumn Grove police department,” the voice said, and Tyr’s blood turned to ice. Maybe his people weren’t honoring the exile mark after all; maybe they’d sent the police after him. Or there was something about his human paperwork that didn’t hold up. Buying a house could have made them take a closer look at him. How had he been so foolish?
“How can I help you, officer?” he asked, trying to sound normal and calm.
“There’s a woman here asking for you. She’s got two kids with her. Sound like anyone you know?”
Paula and the kids, he thought, shocked and afraid for a new reason. Had she been in a car accident? His voice cracked as he asked, “Are they all right?”
“Yes, they’re fine. She asked me to call you. Is it possible for you to come down and pick her up?”
“Of course.” He dropped the pizza on the counter and ran for the door.
On the drive into Autumn Grove he realized he didn’t know where the police station was, but the town was small enough he had no problem finding it. The building was tiny; it hardly looked bigger than a strip mall outlet. There was a single police cruiser parked out front. Tyr slammed on the brake in visitor parking and hurried inside.
“Terry Raines,” he told the officer at the desk. A quick glance around the small waiting area showed no sign of Paula or the kids. There was a woman sitting on the row of plastic chairs, huddled in a sort of cloak or poncho, but she definitely wasn’t Paula.
“Oh, yeah, we spoke on the phone. Ma’am? He’s here.”
The woman got up from the chair, moving slowly, hershoulders hunched in a strange, painful-looking way. Tyr turned to stare at her in abject confusion.
This wasn’t Paula. He had never seen her before.
But his griffin was interested in her anyway.
Intensely interested.
