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The hobgoblin heaved a sigh. “I cannot tell you that.”
This little guy was starting to piss me off.
“Are you two finished yet?” Leo yelled. “Do I need to give this kid a lift home or to an after-school program? It’s getting dark.”
“One minute,” I shouted. I leaned closer to the hobgoblin. “Maybe I should let him take you. I think you might enjoy the experience of an American middle school. The stench of sweaty armpits alone will have you heaving into your buckled shoes.”
His face paled. “If you send me to a school, I will create more mischief and mayhem than any administrators can handle. Picture an unscheduled fire alarm, a bomb threat, and a fistfight in the hallway all at the same time.”
I inhaled sharply. “You wouldn’t.”
His grin stretched into pure malice. “Oh, but I would.”
I itched to get inside his head and see what nightmares I could conjure for him, but I knew it would be an overreaction, and Leo’s close proximity meant I couldn’t risk it anyway.
“Tell your master to stay out of Wild Acres. He has no business here.” I straightened to my full height. “Tell him if he chooses to come, then he will never leave. I’ll make sure of it.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leo sauntering toward us. “Hurry now. Deliver my message.”
The hobgoblin sprinted into the woods.
“Hey!” Leo yelled.
“It’s okay,” I said. “He doesn’t even live in Fairhaven. He’s camping with his family.”
“In those shoes? They looked like they belonged to a Pilgrim.”
“I think they might be Amish.”
“I should probably head for home now anyway. I tend to overdo it when I jog, and the chief wants me on meter reader duty bright and early tomorrow.”
I laughed. “What did you do to deserve that?”
He cringed. “I ate the last cronut.” He swung his arms back and forth to limber up. “See you around.”
“‘Bye, Leo.”
The moment he disappeared from view, I locked the truck and dashed through the forest to the crossroads. I needed to make sure the werewolves weren’t trying to kill each other.
I was a fast runner—so fast, in fact, that I narrowly avoided a collision with the Night Mallt and her mare. The horse reared up in protest.
“Matilda. Thank the gods, it’s you,” I said, panting.
She fought to regain control of her steed. “What are you doing out here? You should be avoiding the forest.”
“I was with Officer Leo. We encountered a hobgoblin.”
Her eyebrows inched up. “One of Vortigern’s, I presume?”
I nodded. “He was following you. I sent him to deliver a message.”
Matilda offered a sympathetic smile. “A valiant effort, cariad, but Vortigern is as stubborn as they come. He wouldn’t be dissuaded by a threatening message from the Morrigan herself.”
“Then he’s an idiot.”
“I said he was stubborn, not smart. How did your police officer react to the hobgoblin?”
“Mistook him for a truant child.”
“He lacks the Sight.”
