Page 11 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

He’s known all along, hasn’t he? That means he’s known that I’d have feelings for him—even if not romantic feelings, strong ones—because other creatures aren’t as unaffected by fae bonds as they all like to pretend.

Eventually, through gritted teeth, he says, “It is likely that other fae are aware of my situation, yes.”

“Where’d they leave the note?” Grant asks, and I’m thankful he takes some of the awareness of the room off me.

“Outside of my wards.”

Grant tips his head to one side and exchanges a glance with Paxton.

“Close then,” Paxton says, as though they’re having some conversation the rest of us can’t hear.

Lark says nothing. Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“This is getting us fucking nowhere. What are we going to do?”

“I will go al—”

“You’re not going alone,” Kieran says, and Lark snaps his mouth shut again. His shoulders hunch. “Out of the question. And since one of my pack members was taken, one of us is going with you. Today.”

My stomach sinks. One. Kieran won’t go himself. We both know Sam is in the best position to. He’s got far more power than the rest of us.

“Paxton, you will accompany them,” Vlad says, but Grant jumps to his feet.

“I should go.”

Vlad shakes his head even as Paxton lets out a sigh.

“No,” Vlad says. Absolute finality.

“Just to the Guardians then,” Grant says with a shrug.

“Grant…”

“It can’t hurt to have two of them there,” Jeremiah says. “Maurice can drive up tonight and meet them.”

Vlad’s jaw clenches. “Fine. Fine.”

“I’ll drive,” Sam says, but Kieran is already looking at me, studying me for too long before he glances at Lark, who is not looking at any of us.

“Take Dante with you.”

“You—” Sam frowns. I get it. There’s only so much room in the car, and this is one hell of an undertaking.

Kieran shakes his head. “Our pack doesn’t have a coven so I can run around doing the magic shit. You two know what you’re doing. Keep each other safe. Bring her back. That’s it.”

That’s it? Kieran must read the question from my face because his lips twitch.

“Oh, and look out for that pair, too,” he says, gesturing at Paxton and Grant. “We know the Hunt could use all the help they can get.”

Chapter Five

Lark

The car journey to the Guardians’ location is, for want of a better word, unpleasant. Paxton and Sam argue briefly over who is to drive, but Sam has the keys and a more volatile temper, which means that he wins, but Paxton sits in the passenger seat next to him.

I do not mind that. I harbour no ill-will towards Sam, but I cannot pretend mages do not make me wary.

No, what matters is that I am in this iron-laden death trap, sitting behind Sam rather than Paxton, as I am the tallest of the three of us crushed into the back, and that Grant has taken the middle seat, chattering away the entire drive.