By the time the large wooden cabin comes into view, I’m a hundred times more relaxed.
Long, wooden log walls stretch up to a fancy carved foot where a silver cockerel weathervane drifts back and forth in the wind.
Overgrown potted plants line the wooden steps up to the ornate front door, where stained glass blurs the world inside.
Falco sets our bags down on the wooden bench resting on the raised porch while I slide my key into the heavy lock and twist.
“Stay here,” Falco says as he brushes past me.
“Are you serious? What could be inside that’s dangerous?”
Falco shoots me a silent warning look, and I groan, stepping back and letting him head inside.
His concern for safety is extreme, even all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.
No one knows we’re here.
We’re tucked so deeply into the forest that no one will ever find us, yet he still can’t relax.
Maybe it’s for the best, given what he told me on the drive up.
Five minutes later, he returns while holstering his gun back at his hip. “Okay, you can come in.”
“Weren’t you worried someone would snatch me from the porch while you were investigating?” I pick up my hastily packed rucksack from the bench.
“I had my eye on you,” Falco says as he takes it from me and sweeps inside with his own bag.
“How?”
“I have my ways.” At my concerned expression, Falco actually laughs very briefly. “I checked you from the windows and I have a tracker on your phone. Plus, I trust that you would scream if you needed me.”
“You don’t do things by halves, do you?” I call to him as I walk into the red oak kitchen. Falco heads down the corridor toward the bedrooms, his words lost in the echo of the wooden walls. A quick scout of the kitchen brings my tranquil plans to cook some food and relax to a sudden halt.
“Falco?”
“Mhm?” He’s in the doorway ten seconds later and his brow dips as he looks past me to the empty cupboards. “You said there would be food.”
“There’s supposed to be. This place is always stocked. I mean, the last time I was here, there were soup cans from when I was a baby. Now there’s nothing!” My brother didn’t say anything about this place being bare. I’m going to send him a very angry text later.
“Are you hungry?” Falco asks, reaching into his pocket. He checks his phone at a glance. “We could head back to the city, but with another round trip it’ll be dark by the time we get back.”
My lips pout together. “I don’t want to go, and I don’t want you to leave.”
Falco taps his phone against his fingers in thought, then lifts his gaze to the antler chandelier hanging over the dining table. “Your family hunts?”
I nod. “Used to.”
“Where do they keep the gear?”
20
FALCO
“I’m not eating anything with fur on it!” Aerin calls from outside the shed I’m neck deep in seeking out anything that resembles hunting gear.
A few old knives and worn arrows lie scattered across an old, stained wooden table, along with some hooks. But given Aerin’s rule on what she will eat, I disregard them all.
A fishing rod tucked in the back corner becomes my only viable option.
