“Don’t.” She reached across the blanket and squeezed my hand. “It was sweet. Chaotic and unnecessary, but sweet.”
“Zoodle’s official motto.” Ko raised his beer in my direction, and I gave him a unicorn fist with my free hand, unwilling to pull the other away from Seri’s.
“I mean it.” Her fingers tightened around mine. “The ducks might not have appreciated your methods, butIappreciate you, all of you, wanting to make me happy.”
Cas, who typically avoided emotional discussions like they carried plague, cleared his throat.
“The execution left something to be desired, but the intent was commendable.”
“Careful, bro. Any more effusive praise and I might think you’re dying.”
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Brummy lifted his head, sending me a series of rapid-fire images of Seri smiling, Seri laughing, Seri’s face lighting up. The message was clear: Mission accomplished in the end, even if not according to original specs.
“Thanks, buddy. Next time, though, stick to the plan.”
He sent back an image that was essentially the wolf equivalent of, “Not a chance,” and settled his head on his paws with a sigh.
5. With Broken Wings
Brumous
Sweet. Smell sweet. Not in kitchen.Here. In book room.
Seri says wait. Says stay.
She goes. I stay.Mostlygood boy.
But smell! Yesterday smell came. Still here.
Not Alpha Boom’s cookies. Those gone. Stole them. Ate them. Very yum.
This smell hiding. Near wall. On book? No. Not book. Not paper. What is?
Soft. Thick. Not words. Not smell of Alpha Sharp’s books. Smell of something else. Something good. Something yum.
Want it. Have it. Rip. Chew. Eat. All gone.
But wrong. Belly hurts. Heavy. Like rocks. Like bad meat.
What Seri say when ate fake quack? What Alpha Boom say when ate gold rings?
Hmm.
Oh! Make come out!
Find corner. Hork. Hork. Hoooork.
Stomach twists. Book comes up. Good.
No. Not good. Belly still wrong. Worse.Worse.
Room spins. Wrong. Legs weak. Breath hard. Cold.
Seri? Where?
Want Seri. Need—
