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“No, Pakhet is long gone.”
“Do you think this boar could be out of the ordinary?” he asked.
“I haven’t seen any evidence to suggest it.”
He assessed me. “Then why do you care whether it’s here for the hunt?”
“Because it deserves a better fate.”
“You eat meat, don’t you?”
“This is different. The Wild Hunt isn’t coming to hunt for food.” I didn’t have the stomach to describe the mutilated carcasses from the photos. “What about Sage? Do you think she’d be any good at tracking and herding?”
He offered a lopsided grin. “Sage is good at everything, but don’t tell her I said that.”
“Ask if she’d be up for joining Matilda’s merry band of non-hunters.”
His smile faded. “I’d prefer to keep her out of this, if possible.”
I cocked my head. “Is the pack giving you a hard time about your relationship?” As the alpha of the pack, West was expected to choose another werewolf as his mate. Instead, he recently made the pack aware of his romantic relationship with Sage, a local fae.
West shrugged. “These things take time. Let me know if you learn anything else.”
“Deal.”
I drove home, singing along to Bonnie Tyler on the radio. There was nothing like an Eighties power ballad. It felt good to belt out a song again; it had been ages since I’d allowed myself that indulgence. I made it through the whole song without triggering any powers or strong emotions. By the time I parked outside the Castle gates, I felt ready to deal with my messy life again.
I strode into the kitchen, still humming.
Addison glanced up from a book at the table. “Where were you?”
“Kayaking.”
Her eyebrows crept up. “A leisure activity now? Shouldn’t you be gathering the forces of darkness, or whatever it is you need to do?”
“I needed to think.” And it was becoming increasingly difficult to conduct any type of activity that required peace and quiet in my house.
“What’s for dinner?”
“We haven’t eaten lunch yet.”
“Sorry. I mistook you for a planner.”
I bristled. “I plan.”
“Cool. Then what are you planning for dinner?”
A knuckle sandwich sprang to mind, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I directed my attention to her book. “What are you reading?”
“Psychology. One of your ghost pals brought it to me. I think they feel sorry for me, being stuck in your house all day under the threat of death.”
“Have you learned anything?”
“Emotions are actually energy in motion. That’s where the word comes from. Did you know that?”
“I did not.”
“And my childhood was more traumatic than I realized.”
