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Something locked in my gut, and I opened my mouth to speak. His gaze slipped to Janice, who remained unresponsive in her little chair and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I felt the man’s warning down in my toes and the skin around my runestone itched.
Without another word, Levi dipped his chin to me, taking his leave, and limped off with his cane. I watched him go, replaying the sentence in my mind, wondering what he meant by the look he gave Janice.
Was he saying she was in danger? Or was he saying we were all in danger?
Frowning, I rubbed the runestone in my palm and looked to Janice, “I’m in way over my head here.”
Janice was dozing, her head resting against the back of her chair. Exhaling, I bent down to fix her blanket, tucking it more securely around her feet and thought, And I sure hope your son can save the day.
Chapter Thirteen
The game lasted far longer than it should have. By my count there were no less than eight men with fractures somewhere in their bodies, all of them had contusions and gashes, and two had lost some teeth. Derrick snagged his shirt from the sidelines and waved back at Brock as he made his way toward me, but I could see by the slowness of his step that he was in pain.
Up close was worse. There were gouges in his back that looked distinctly like claw marks, deep enough that they welled with blood, and his shoulder had bits of dirt and pebble littering a dozen scrapes. His ribs were purpling with bruises in a pattern that promised deeper injury lurking beneath, there was a cut across his forehead that had been poorly tended with a butterfly bandage mid-game, and the bastard still had the gall to smile about it.
“Is that concern on your face, Miss Grayson?” Derrick asked, stopping in front of me.
“You’re insane.”
He laughed, then cringed and touched his bruised side.
Yes, definitely a broken rib or two. I scowled at the array of blues and purples blotching his skin. “How is this fun for you?”
Chuckling, Derrick tugged his shirt back on. “They’re just bruises, they’ll heal.”
“You and I both know that something is at least cracked in your ribcage, Constable.”
“Derrick.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Call me Derrick,” he said again, this time winking at me.
I paused as he began fumbling with buttons. His knuckles were turning shades of blue and purple as well, but he managed to work his shirt back into a semblance of order without too much cringing. I stared at him for a moment, debating. He’d been irreverent in using my nonformal name, but I’d imagined that was to be expected of a Constable. They were allowed such authority, after all.
Warmth coiled in my gut and my cheeks heated. I smiled at him, suddenly shy. “Derrick.”
“Maker help us, I think she might combust,” he said with a chuckle and moved to tuck the blanket around his mother’s legs.
The heat was in my ears and neck now and I glared at him. “It amazes me how quickly I can go from nearly liking you, to wanting to throw something blunt at your face.”
“You’d aim for my face? That seems drastic.”
“I’d aim for your teeth.”
He laughed and moved to grip his mother’s chair, wheeling it toward the path. “Really, Nora, you’re quite vicious when you want to be.”
I fought back a smile as we headed down the path. “You’re incorrigible.”
“It has been said.”
We fell into step, letting silence take over. Above us, the sky was ablaze. Clouds stretched thin, painted vivid pink and orange as the sun neared the horizon, and the shadows of the forest began to deepen. The chirping of birds gave way to frogs and insects and I took a breath, marveling in how alive the forest felt. Even the trees had a presence here, their branches swaying and rustling as though in hushed conversation with each other. We were passersby, welcomed to linger, welcomed to become part of the conversation, and I sensed some deeper magic at play.
“Levi Cordova stopped to chat,” I said.
Derrick glanced at me. “I heard.”
I relaxed and smiled, grateful for that werewolf hearing. No doubt he’d been listening to the entire exchange and all the unease I’d carried since the meeting melted away.
