the presence. Shifters have the sense that animals possess, to sense danger even though they might not have proof of it. Some of us are better at it than others, but I do possess that skill. I rarely have to use it, since I have keen scent and hearing, but it is a good backup. They would not have been close enough to see you train if they were on the property.”
I nodded. My inexperience wouldn’t be hard to sell. If those damn dolls were running wild, or the basajaun was celebrating victories, I’d probably look terrified or disgusted as a normal part of my day. I could whip up a little dumb blond schtick as the cherry on top. Men fell for that, regardless of hair color.
“We do still need to know how to tear down the spell, though,” Mr. Tom said. “Edgar, I sure hope you didn’t write your findings on one of these scraps of colorful paper. We have whole sheets in the craft box.”
“We have a craft box?” I asked.
“Yes. It is in the office you never enter.”
Did I hear a tone? Now that I knew a little more about the office, I was pretty sure I heard a tone…
“Oh, I…” Edgar lowered the half-formed, fuzzy-edged orange slip of paper he’d grabbed before putting it behind his back. “Let me just quickly go over it one last time, and I’ll deliver it to you right away.”
The blue-painted porcelain of the bottom of my coffee cup looked up at me accusatorially. I’d just drunk a whole cup of coffee, not to mention my mind was whirling from what I’d heard. No way could I got back to sleep.
“Just give me what you have.” I held out my hand.
“The power to combat the assault is within you,” Ivy House whispered to me. “The clues are there. You can piece them together. You must.”
No pressure.
“I’ll get working on this spell.” I took the paper from Edgar.
“Well, then.” Mr. Tom pulled at his lapels. “I’ll make breakfast.”
The sense of urgency settled onto my shoulders like a great weight, something in me knowing that my time was running out. I took off for my room, jogging all the way there, and then spread the page onto the table and sat down to study it.
“I’m going to head into town,” Austin said, peeking his head in. “I don’t have any sort of organized pack yet, but I have people there who can help. I’m going to put them on alert, if that’s all right?”
He clearly felt the press of expectation, same as me.
“More the merrier,” I answered, “as long as you can handle them.”
He spared a moment to walk in behind me, laying his hands on my shoulders and kneading.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I closed my eyes for a moment. “Yeah. Just feeling the pressure.”
“Have faith in yourself. You are an excellent problem solver. You can crack the code.”
I wrapped my hand around one of his wrists, needing the contact. He stopped kneading with that hand and took mine, entwining our fingers. We stayed that way for a moment as the night peered in through the windows, all silent. The calm before the storm.
“Okay,” Austin whispered, pulling his hand away. “I’m going to head out.”
“Yup. And I need to work miracles.”
“It’s not a miracle—it’s a challenge. You’ll rise to it.”
“Sometimes your supportiveness is just plain annoying,” I groused.
“I concur.” Mr. Tom came into the room with my coffee mug, steaming once again. “Much too supportive. Who needs someone to believe blindly in us? What a bore.”
I had a sneaking suspicion he was mocking me.
Austin slipped out of the room, leaving my line of sight, but I could feel him making his way to the side door—and then changing shape and darting into the trees in the side yard, hopefully slipping into the wood before anyone noticed. Speed was clearly on his mind, and he could move fastest in his polar bear form.
“I wish we had an idea of the numbers that might come at us,” I said, looking down at Edgar’s sloppy scrawl.
“Here.” Mr. Tom sat in the empty chair and fished a sheet of paper and a pen out of his interior jacket pocket. He pulled the orange piece to him. “Let me make this legible. Austin Steele thinks the secret is out about you in the magical world. That people will start to take a greater interest. I happen to agree.”
“This isn’t the time to increase the pressure, Mr. Tom.”