“Bro,” Timber shouted over his shoulder. “I could use your help about now!”
No response. Not even a snore.
Timber let out a heavy sigh and kept working.
15—Abigail
Abigail puttered around ‘You Need It’, moving a picture here and a mounted animal there, growing more and more pissed by the minute. Her granddaughter was stolen. She hated thevod, and yet she’d talked to two already, and more were coming, even avodvod. They had no leads, and they were all running around like village idiots.
The noise of a diesel engine passing on the street outside caught her attention. She hurried to the window and looked out, catching a glimpse of a police pickup truck driving by. In a minute, it went past again, and then again. It seemed to be circling the block, the male driving staring straight ahead, not even looking around—like he was bamboozled or enchanted or something. Abigail snickered, thinking,whoever could have done such a thing? She craned her neck, trying to see if there were wolves in the back seat. The truck circled again, but Abigail still couldn’t tell. She considered what to do, but on the next pass, the truck swerved across lanes and stopped in front of her store.
Abigail hurried behind the counter and watched as avodvodgot out—she could tell by the uniform. Nausea prickled her belly, and she grabbed something off the counter, peeking at the scene outside the window. Thevodvodopened a door and a mutt jumped out. The male and the mutt rounded the truck. Abigail began moving several things from the front counter to the back counter, then back to the front counter again. Her front door opened, and Crew Arcoal came in with either Troy or Trent Burbank. Arcoal was tall and muscular, with dark hair, intense eyes, dark scruff, and a permanent scowl. His eyes met hers andhe forcefully bore his way into her mind. She shuddered, looked away, then went on the offensive to block his attempts to read her.
“You the cop, pretty boy? You found my great-granddaughter yet?”
Arcoal stopped near the counter, the mutt sitting near him. Arcoal widened his stance and said, “No. I needed to ask you some questions.”
She waved a hand. “How many cops am I going to have to talk to before one of you remembers what I say?”
“We’re trying to be thorough.”
She eyeballed the mutt. He was black-furred and big, his head at Arcoal’s waist. She could see hisrenquain a mirror situated against the wall behind him. She blanked her mind, not thinking about what she knew. She was a human, nothing more.
Arcoal stepped slightly in front of the mutt, saying, “I need to know exactly what happened. Tell me everything from when you woke up.”
Abigail felt weepy and turned it up for thevodvod, saying. “It was a normal morning. I got up. I got dressed. I heard my granddaughter scream from the yard next door. I ran over and Mina told me what had happened. Some guy grabbed Paisley and ran off. She was already gone when I got there! I didn’t see anybody.”
Abigail hid her face in her hands, crying louder, and also secretly watching thevodvodand the mutt through her fingers. The vodvod was angry that Paisley had been taken. Abigail felt curiosity pulling at her. She was surprised thevodvodcared so much, or at all. He looked ready to tear his way into the Pravus right then.
“Is there anything else you think we should know?” he asked her, his voice gruff.
Ah yes, she had him now. “She’s only four, officer. So little and innocent. You have to find her quickly.”
“We will. I swear it,” thevodvodsaid, leaving Abigail confused. Was he really as mad as he seemed? Would it matter if he knew Paisley wasfoxen? She reached out to touch him, babbling non-stop about how he personally had to go find Paisley, but really, her mouth was on autopilot, and she was feeding him a harmless memory, then following the backtrail of his intrusion, deep into his mind. She dug around quickly until she discovered that this male held no contempt forfoxen, and he would attempt to rescue Paisley even if he knew that she wasfoxen.
Abigail dropped her hand, dumbfounded, only able to stare as the male and the mutt left. She’d always thought allvodvodbelievedfoxenbelonged in the Pravus, and also that they wanted to be there.
She watched them get in the truck and drive away, thinking. Crew Arcoal could get into the Pravus. He’d been in Khain’s mind. Maybe he knew how things really were, that mostfoxenhated Khain and would never choose to work for him.
But he’d never told anyone what he knew. The rest of KSRT thought offoxenas criminals. She decided that Arcoal didn’t know what he knew, but still, he was special, while the rest of thevodvodwere dangerous, ignorant, assholes.
Abigail watched the truck drive away, waiting until it was out of sight, and then she went to her door and flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.
Abigail hurried out the back door to the black SUV. Number Twelve started the engine as soon as he saw her, then got out to open the back door for her.
“Missus.”
“Riverview Drive, Number Twelve, quickly,” she said, feeling like time was speeding up.
“Yes, Missus.”
Abigail lapsed into silence as the sun set in the west. The day was almost over, and they still didn’t have Paisley back.
16—Timber
Timber watched the little hourglass on the computer screen spin, then he stared at the phone on the desk, then back to the hourglass. The day had been weird, and slow, somehow. Even the computers were taking forever. This program was usually instant.
Movement on the security views caught Timber’s eye—Jaggar jogging down the hallway heading toward the bunker. Jaggar was big with close-cropped, dark hair, and a line down the center of his face, referencing the half-catamount, half-wolf beast inside him. He looked worried.
