Then the power shut off. It wasn't as if Eskal was late paying a bill; he wasn't the type and I'd set up the auto-draw for the electric company myself. I frowned up at the ceiling, waiting for it to blitz back on, but nothing happened. From the bedroom, the whelp shrieked. I dragged myself up and went to check on him.
Inside the crate, he thrashed and hissed. I opened the door; he'd been napping last I'd checked, and offered my hand to him. "Come here. What's wrong? Your mother isn't here right now, but if you're hungry-"
He zoomed up my arm, past my shoulder, and raged squeaks and trills directly into my ear. I pulled him away, wishing the whelp would speak draconic like one his age usually did. As of yet, all I'd gotten from him was a number of noises.
"Easy," I told him, letting his tail wrap around my hand. I switched to draconic for his benefit. "Tell me what it is. Tell me, like this, and I'll understand you."
It took him a moment or two to fully understand me. Then, in the tiniest voice I'd ever heard, he panted one word. "Mother."
Was everyone in my life obsessed with the witch? I sat down in the floor with him and ran a finger over the top of his head. Unlike the others, he didn't whip around and try to bite me. Maybe he was a beta, too. "She's working. She's outside of the den for now, but she'll return later this evening. When the sky is darkening, she will come back to you."
"Mother."
"I know what you said. I understand. But she has other things to do right now, d'you get it?"
The whelp looked toward the door and I turned my head to check over my shoulder. Had they gotten home early? Was something wrong?
But there was no sign of Eskal or Nariti. No sign of Olivia, either. Maybe there was something wrong with the whelp. Or maybe he wanted something his mother could give him.
Maybe he was just hungry.
We went back into the kitchen and I sat him down on the table. The second I left him, he chirped and squeaked as if no one would ever give him a drop of attention again. I searched the refrigerator for a moment before I found what I was looking for. I plopped down the bologna and peeled off a slice, ripping it up and putting it in a little pile in front of him.
The whelp sat and looked at me, as if he were trying to decide whether or not I was trustworthy enough to accept food from. I shrugged at him. "Eat or don't, it's no scales off my back. But if you decide not to, I'm not the bad guy."
Just to emphasize it, I stole a piece from the top and popped it into my mouth. He reared into the air, immature wings flapping, and shrieked at me. I hid a smile. At least he was interested in the food, even if he wasn't eating it.
I sat down at the table and peeled another slice of questionable meat off the loaf, rolling it up, and shoving it in my mouth. The whelp watched, hissed, and snatched a bit of meat from his own set. His little tail rattled like a snake's against the tabletop and I barely managed to keep from laughing at him.
For his benefit, I averted my gaze and looked out the window. He had the pile of meat gone in a breath and I shredded another slice for him. As I worked, he snapped up the bits that fell through my fingers. The tail rattled harder against the table.
"Yes, you're very threatening," I told him. "I'm tearing up your food right now, as fast as I can, oh master dragon."
Three slices later and the whelp curled up and blew smoke at me. That was the thanks I got for taking care of him, a rather polite gesture from such a youngster. Most would have bitten me for taking too long to rip apart each slice, but he'd been pretty patient.
My phone rang again. Eskal's ringtone. I reached for it, then paused. If he needed something, couldn't he ask his new favorite? I wasn't certain that I could keep the bitterness from my voice, now that I was stuck with the whelp, too. And where was Iyadre? Shouldn't he have been dealing with the kid?
A tiny, warm body pressed against my arm. I frowned down at the whelp and lifted him into my arms. Then just gently slid him into the pocket on my shirt. It was the perfect size for him, when he coiled up, and he went straight to sleep.
The phone rang again. Well. Rang may not have been the best term. A wolf's howl echoed from the speakers.
"What the fuck do the Fontaines want?" I muttered, answering it. "Vadriq Vervain."
"Vad, it's Xav."
"Xav, Vad," I said, trying to keep the smile from my face. Feelings were rough between us and the wolves, but Xavion was a decent mutt if I'd ever met one. I liked him.
"Yeah. Listen, there's a bunch of cops here swarming the site. Your girl just got taken off in cuffs and Eskal punched an officer. They're trying to drag him off, but Nariti's making all kinds of lawyer noises at them and threatening their badges. You guys might want to get down here and take over when the cops shove all three of them into a car."
There was a noise on the other end of the phone. I recognized Eskal's roar in the background, though thankfully not
