Sorcha had the greatest laugh.
As Heather lifted her for more kisses, love filled her heart. Thank you, Vicki, for sharing with me. Even if it made the lack of her own pups so much harder.
Maybe, someday, the Great Mother would bless her.
Thorson said in his raspy voice, “Toren, time to leave.”
Hearing his name, Toren clapped his hands—his newest skill—and gurgled happily.
The sun was hovering over the treetops as if reluctant to leave. Summer Solstice was tomorrow—the longest day in the year—and sunset wasn’t until a smidge after nine pm. Heather nodded at Thorson. “The Cosantirs’ meeting should be done soon.”
Heather grinned, thinking of when Vicki’d been told about the plans for today. “Another fucking meeting? For fuck’s sake, Calum.”
Her poor friend had wanted to spend the day outside. Instead, she’d been stuck in a meeting with Wells and the shifter-soldiers. And now, the various Cosantirs, their mates, and their cahirs were using the meeting tent. Calum was there as well as Pete from Rainier Territory. There were Cosantirs from Gifford to the south, Colville to the east, and Garibaldi over the border in Canada. It wasn’t often the guardians left their territories, so they’d welcomed the chance to discuss common problems—the increasing human threat, the Scythe’s attempts to find them, human laws that might affect them. New ways of evasion. Technology and precautions.
Ryder who had mad skills with computers had been drafted to speak with them.
Heather knew the Daonain must become more tech savvy. Being the CEO of a software company, she had a head start, but she’d always been an outlier when it came to liking computers. Too many shifters, like her Cosantir, Pete, refused to acknowledge the changes in the world. They believed the Daonain could simply hide in the forests if threatened. Even worse, they used human technology like phones without understanding the dangers.
Such shortsightedness endangered everyone—including the cubs. A cold shiver ran up her spine, and she held Sorcha closer.
Resettling Artair on his shoulder, Wells did a quick survey of the surrounding forest. The man never let down his guard. Was that because he was in the midst of shifters or because he’d been a spy for too many years?
Eyes narrowing, he tilted his head to hear better.
Heather listened. Even in this form, her ears were better than a human’s.
From the north, an animal was approaching at a fast pace. More than one. New shifters playing nip-the-tail?
No, there was a desperate urgency to the sound.
A chocolate-brown wolf shot out of the underbrush and sprang across the creek. The female stopped in front of Wells, hind leg raised slightly.
“Margery?” Heather stared. Her friend’s muzzle was covered in froth, her sides heaving with her breathing.
“You’re Oliver’s sister.” Wells’ face darkened. “What’s wrong?”
Margery shifted and knelt at his feet, gasping for air. “The Scythe. They’re coming. Many of them—dark camouflaged clothing, weapons.”
A bear charged out between two trees, splashed through the creek, and trawsfurred into a young male. Kneeling beside Margery, the resemblance was plain.
Oliver spat out between breaths, “A long line. Got night-vision goggles. Gear doesn’t match—maybe mercenaries. Coming slow, about two hours out. Probably move on us after dark.”
Wells turned his head to the south. “If they’re smart, they’ll bracket us with an attack from the road.”
“Wells, give me Artair.” Heather held out her free arm. “Go warn the Cosantirs while they’re all together.”
Placing the cub into her arms, Wells said, “Oliver, come with me. I’ll warn the Cosantirs while you round up the shifter-soldiers. Send Patrin and Fell to the meeting tent.”
“Yes, sir.” Oliver pushed to his feet, staggered sideways a step, then yanked the mini pack off his back. He pulled out shorts and put them on. “Sis.”
Margery’s lips quivered as she smiled at him. “Be safe, bro.”
“You, too.”
Oliver sped after Wells, who’d already headed for the festival grounds.
Thorson turned toward Heather. “We need to send the cubs somewhere safe.”
“Yes.” Heather’s gaze met Margery’s, and she saw the same determination there. Time to get moving. Get a head start.
No Scythe soldier was going to get anywhere near the little ones.
Tynan didn’t want to be stuck in the fecking Cosantirs’ meeting. By the Gods, he needed to go after Meggie, not listen to Ryder talk about computers.
Earlier, Angie had grabbed him and told him about Meggie and her littermate. Had handed him Oliver’s note that said he’d headed to Canada.
Meggie had gone after him.
Tynan rubbed his chest, feeling as if she’d had taken a knife and stabbed him.
Before he could grab Donal and follow her, his brother was called to deal with a clawing. Stupid young males.
Then Alec dragged Tynan into the Cosantirs’ meeting, saying, “You’re a deputy and a pack beta. You’re part of the shield that protects the Daonain.”
So here he was, listening to the idiot Rainier Cosantir say he had no idea humans could eavesdrop on cell phone conversations or that a human might notice the flyer he’d posted in the grocery store about the festival.
That thick gobshite had put a target on his town and on this festival.
Appalled, the others in the meeting—except for Pete’s own people—were shouting at the idiot.
Tynan shook his head. While they yelled, he’d go make sure the festival was safe. Instinctively setting a hand on his firearm, Tynan headed for the door. He’d ask Patrin and Fell to post the shifter-soldiers as sentries until something better could—
Blocking the exit, Wells stepped into the tent. “Cosantirs, you’re going to be under attack. Probably at dark.” The spymaster’s loud voice stilled the arguing shifters. “The Scythe are on the way.”
Everyone jumped to their feet, yelling.
“Silence.” Calum’s voice slashed through the noise like claws across a snout.
“Do we have time to get our people out?” one of the Cosantirs asked.
“Doubtful,” Wells answered. “The road will be watched—possibly blocked. In animal form, the fastest shifters might escape the approaching line.”
Calum motioned Wells forward. “Spymaster, you know our skills, our numbers. Show us what we’re up against and make us a plan.”
Beside the poster board, Ryder ripped off the paper he’d been using and handed Wells the colored markers.
Using black, Wells drew a circle for the festival grounds, then a double line for the blacktop road to the south. Dashes marked the footpath from the road to the grounds.
“This is where the Scythe were spotted.” A line of red Xs crossed the forest to the north. “Their mismatched gear implies we might be facing mercenaries. If the Colonel is keeping this quiet, he won’t pull from the normal Scythe resources.”
Wells traced his finger from the grounds, around the side of the Xs, and back down. “We can send wolves to attack these soldiers from the rear. Quietly.”
Calum pointed to Shay. “Shay, take charge of all the wolf packs. The other alphas will take orders from you.”