Marked In Flesh (The Others #4) - Anne Bishop Page 0,50
no, eleven . . . young bison. Then, in the center of the page, a train, its engine heading east through the grasslands of the Midwest. Then Talulah Falls, distinctive and unmistakable, and those houses she had drawn once before. The last piece of the picture was of him and Simon herding the bison.
“You wouldn’t leave Grace, would you?”
“I wouldn’t leave either of you. But I might have to make a trip to Lakeside.” He took the drawing and pulled her to her feet as he rose. “Outside. Walk, play, study the creek.”
She blinked. “Study the creek?”
“Yes. It’s clear water, not that deep. Look at what lives there. Then you can draw a picture of it when you get back.”
She gave him the same brilliant smile that she’d given him when she’d told him her name was Hope.
She put on socks and sneakers before bounding out of the room ahead of him. Grace, in Wolf form, held a straw hat between her teeth and blocked the outside door until Hope took the hat and obediently tied the ribbons under her chin.
They watched the girl leap off the porch and run to catch up with the pups, who raced back to meet her.
Jackson showed the drawing to Grace. “I need to go down to the communications cabin and call Simon.”
“I have the number for his mobile phone. Even if he doesn’t answer, he’ll call back as soon as he gets the message.” He ran his human hand over her white head, enjoying the feel of her fur against the naked skin. “As soon as I get back, we’ll go for a run, just the two of us.”
Laughter filled her amber eyes. She ran out of the cabin.
He wanted to forget about drawings and visions and pesky humans. He wanted to run with his mate and have fun. But he would go down and make the phone call because he wondered what Meg Corbyn might have told Simon about the images in Hope’s drawing.
• • •
Simon trotted to the back door of Howling Good Reads and shifted a paw just enough to turn the knob. He’d had an enjoyable morning, even if it was spent with humans, and the Wolves who had accompanied Kowalski, Debany, and the gaggle of girls had learned the Squeaky Dance game, which was great fun even if it didn’t last very long.
The Wolves from the Addirondak Mountains were arriving tomorrow, and Vlad had been a bit sharp about not getting help restocking the shelves. John Wolfgard had made the mistake of pointing out that Vlad was the one who had decimated their stock before this visit, which was why Simon was spending a couple of hours at the store helping Vlad instead of John coming in to work. Verbally nipping at Erebus Sanguinati’s most trusted weapon here in Lakeside was beyond foolish.
And even though no one said anything, Simon figured Vlad was concerned about Tolya and Nyx being so far from any Sanguinati stronghold.
Simon shifted to human form and reached for the pair of jeans he’d left on the chair next to the door. He growled at the empty chair, then did a quick search. Damn females! There was a reason he left clothes on that chair! They had to stop taking things and “putting them away.”
Not finding anything, he strode to the front of the store, hoping to meet one of the human pack who would squeak about his being naked. But he hadn’t gotten that far when Vlad called out, “Simon? Is that you?”
He bounded up the stairs and into the office. “The next time I find anything any of those females have left around the store, I’ll—” He stopped when he saw Vlad’s face. “Your kin?”
“They’re fine. Joe met them at the train station yesterday. Tolya called me last night to give me the phone number of the motel as well as his room number in case I needed to reach him.” Vlad held out the receiver. “It’s Jackson.”
Simon leaped toward the desk and grabbed the receiver. “Jackson? What did Hope do now?”
Hesitation. “What do you know about bison?”
What an odd question. “They’re tasty. Hard to hunt unless you’re with a strong pack or bring down a young one.” Things Jackson already knew. “Joe sent us packages of bison meat. They arrived yesterday. The female pack is cooking a roast to give all the humans a taste.”