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Across the street, Warren’s Subaru started up.
“He’s getting away,” said the other cop, turning as if he planned on running in front of the car to stop it.
Trent caught his arm and said, “Stand down,” at the same time that Warren said, “No such thing, Officer.”
To be sure he was speaking the truth, Warren looked at Sherwood, who was sitting in the driver’s seat—which he had to, in order to start the car. Warren couldn’t quite read the expression on the old wolf’s face, but it wasn’t the expression of someone who was about to drive away. Sherwood saw Warren watching him, and grinned.
“He’s been sitting out in the cold for a while,” Warren continued warily. He’d never seen that exact expression on Sherwood’s face before. “I told him to go get warm.”
Apparently satisfied that his charge wasn’t going to go do something dumb, Trent released the other cop. Warren firmly turned his attention back to where it belonged.
“Warren, this officer is Cam Hochstetler. He’s new to Kennewick and doesn’t know how we do things here. Cam, Warren Smith is the best private detective in the Tri-Cities and third in our local wolf pack. What he’s trying to tell you is that he has the right and obligation to step in when he thinks that someone is getting into trouble with one of his wolves.”
Everything calmed down quite a bit after that. Warren collected Sherwood’s insurance and registration from the Toyota’s jockey box—and Sherwood’s license, too. Apparently, he kept it in his car.
Tony arrived. The drunk girl was properly cited and sent home with the aid of Officer Hochstetler—who Warren could tell was going to give the pack some trouble down the road. The driver of the first car asked Warren to thank Sherwood for saving his life because he’d still been sitting stunned in the front seat when Sherwood pulled them out of danger. The train had been going past his window by the time he’d had the presence of mind to get out of his car.
Warren tucked the accident report number in his back pocket and strolled to his car.
Sherwood saw him coming and opened his door.
And that was when Warren realized that he’d been close enough that the car’s audio had paired with his phone and started the audiobook he’d been listening to. He had a tendency to turn them off when the sex scenes started because having some stranger read about sex to him was just…uncomfortable. This was the first time it occurred to him that maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing to do.
He was today-years-old when he realized that he could still blush like a schoolgirl.
“Ah, damn it all,” he said.
“Are you embarrassed that your audiobook started in the middle of a very hot sex scene between three men in a swimming pool?” asked Sherwood politely. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed about that.”
“Get out of the driver’s seat,” said Warren. “I’m taking you home.”
Getting Sherwood into the passenger seat took a while longer than it normally would have. Between the crutch and his laughing fits, Sherwood had some trouble on the ice.
The first thing Warren did when he got behind the steering wheel was turn the sound system off.
“Saddest thing in the world is listening to nineteen minutes of a twenty-minute sex scene,” said Sherwood in a mock-mournful voice.
“They all die horribly in five more minutes, their efforts unfulfilled,” said Warren, “victims of the shapeshifting shark lurking in the deep end.”
“Really?” asked Sherwood in polite disbelief.
“I had the audio app on my phone off,” Warren interrupted him. “I have no idea why the car decided to connect to my phone and pull up a book.”
Sherwood’s eyebrows climbed up his face. “That, my friend, is a lie,” he said, sounding delighted.
Warren sighed. “Let me tell you about my car.”
13
Mercy
The first time I woke up, I was so cold my whole body felt as though I was burning—a feeling that originated at my shoulder and boiled through my body down to my toes. My head hurt so much I wouldn’t have been surprised to find I was bleeding out of my ears.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
When the Soul Taker had altered me in October, all that I had to do was look at someone and I saw…everything, I suppose, if I’d been fool to look long enough. That had been terrible and frightening, but it had gone away when Zee had destroyed the artifact.
I knew that the creature (Garmr—I knew it was Garmr) was not feeding upon my physical body. He was reopening the channel the Soul Taker had woven using my magic—magic that was divine in nature because my father was Coyote—and my soul to force my mind to do something that it was not made to do.
