Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,52

focused the same as I did when willing magic into my palm, only this time I envisioned the memory of how my voice sounded to me. I would die before admitting it out loud, but I visualized it as a thought bubble forming over my head.

“I’m Macsen Sullivan’s daughter,” a voice similar to mine said.

“Ah. We were expecting you last night.” More rustling sounds. “Come along. Follow me.”

The púca led me through more twists and turns than I could ever keep straight on my own. If I had been myself, I could have followed our scent trails, but no way was two-legged me fitting down this rabbit hole.

Exhaustion tugged at the corners of my mind. The thought of losing my faint grip on this skin, of shifting to human while underground, made my mouth run dry.

That death would suck.

I clung to the hope the púca’s offer of hospitality was genuine and that we would part as friends. If he had any more advice on how to make this body work for me, well, more’s the better.

We crept through the tunnel for a half hour before light trickled in and illuminated my host. His fur was the same glossy black as all others of his kind. He was unremarkable except for one speck of white on his rump, like someone meant to give him a cotton tail but missed the mark.

“Watch your step,” the púca cautioned before leaping out of sight.

Squinting against the bright light of the large cavern, I spotted my host and fumbled my jump to rejoin him. A few snickers made heat rise in my furry cheeks. Let them laugh. They had it easy. They were born shifters.

For me, experiencing my essence being stuffed into another form, one that retained phantom memories from its previous occupant, was downright creepy. Despite that, I was still kicking. I was fighting. So yuck it up, furballs. Laugh with me or at me, I didn’t care. Not while being alive tasted so sweet.

My guide cleared his throat. “You’ll be more comfortable in here.”

Mustering my dignity, I sidestepped after him into a room large enough for a sitting human.

“In case of an accident,” the púca answered my unasked question. “Stay here. We’re all safer that way.” The rabbit paused. “Your friend, Rook. If he arrives, I will send him to you. If he doesn’t...”

“If he doesn’t show up soon, I’ll leave. I don’t want to bring trouble to your door since you were kind enough to help me.” I sat flat on my butt since my haunches were wobbly. “I haven’t eaten in a long time. I’m running on fumes. If you had any food to share...” I couldn’t say I would be grateful. That sounded too much like thanks, which might land me in hot water later, “...that would be nice.”

The púca grinned. “We have plenty here. It’s why we live on the border. Spring is flush with all sorts of delicacies, but Autumn is safer for our kind. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll return shortly.”

Following his advice, I forced my legs to work and flopped onto a bed of fresh straw. My paws ached and my muscles twinged. Everything hurt, but I shut my eyes with a smile. Pain meant I was still alive. It was hard to be upset about that.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Straw crinkled beneath me when I twisted onto my back. Scratching an itchy spot on my belly with the short nails on my front paws, I yawned. My lids cracked open, and through the frame made of my hind legs, I saw him. Rook. His sleek head rested under his left wing.

Magic surged through me, snapping my grip on the skin. I screamed when it ripped free and I exploded to normal size, whacking the ceiling with my head.

“Freaking monkeys,” I hissed.

Careful of the startled rook, I folded my legs and crammed myself into the smallest space possible to give us each breathing room. The bird stood pressed flush against the opposite wall, his tiny chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Sorry about that.” I lifted the rabbit skin off my knee. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He relaxed and cocked his head.

“I’m glad to see you. I was—” don’t say relieved, “—relieved you’re okay.”

With a rustle of feathers, he lit on my knee.

“I guess you can’t do the talking thing or you would have by now.” I examined the tiny cubby, our sanctuary. “Did the food ever show up?” I felt around under my thighs. My fingers hit a bowl the size of