The first thing he did was look in on Yordan and Bing. Yordan looked pale and exhausted, but he was waving away a healthy Bing with a weak hand. “Lie down yourself. Magical healing is still exhausting. You may be pretty again, but I’ll bet you’re dreaming about taking a nap.”
“If you do the same,” Bing answered. Then he turned and wrinkled his sharply etched nose at Bruce. “God, it’s true. You Americans stink.”
“It’s not me,” grumbled Yordan as he collapsed on a bed. “Get out of here, mutt.”
Then, before Bruce could muscle his way in just to prove he could, Bing shut the bedroom door right on his nose.
Fine. They didn’t look like they needed anything other than rest. He’d make himself useful with Wulfric.
It was hard turning the doorknob with his paws—in fact, he couldn’t do it at all, so he tried with his mouth. All he managed to do was to slobber all over the thing. He was about to ram the door in frustration when someone opened it from the inside.
He hopped back only to stare at the most ethereal beauty he’d ever seen. She was a pale brunet with dark mahogany eyes, small bones, and fair white skin. She said something in a language he didn’t understand, and damned if she didn’t look like an elven queen as she held her hand to her nose and waved him back.
He tried to muscle past her, but he didn’t want to hurt her, and she wasn’t budging. She seemed to have a vein of steel inside her, for all that she looked light enough to ride a stiff wind. And then came the ultimate insult, as she backed him up enough to shut the bedroom door behind her. Damn it, there was no way he could check on Wulfric now. He needed hands!
“You belong outside,” she said firmly. “You’re going to make everyone sick with that stink and—” She abruptly quieted as Wulfric coughed from inside the bedroom. She waited in tense silence to see if it would repeat. It didn’t, so she turned back to him. “My son needs his rest, and you’re only making things worse.”
So this was Wulfric’s mother. Wow. She looked even younger than Wulfric. And they were both supposed to be more than two hundred years old? Way cool, except he was a paramedic. He needed to check on Wulfric. He yipped at her, irritation in the sound.
“Yes, I know you’re a werewolf,” she said. “But you’re a problem with that smell, and we need solutions.” Then she grabbed him by the ruff in a vise-like grip. He tried to shake her off, but he didn’t want to hurt her. That meant that biting was out too. And hell, she was strong as she dragged him to the front door.
He tried to dig his heels in, but he had paws on a hard floor, and he slid despite all his efforts.
Then Laddin looked up from his phone. His eyes widened at the sight, and Bruce had a moment of satisfaction. Laddin, at least, would explain. He’d tell this woman Bruce was a paramedic and—
Laddin opened the front door for the woman, and Bruce was unceremoniously shoved outside. The moment his ruff was released, he turned back. Now he was really pissed and frustrated. He’d be damned if he sat outside like—
“You want to help?” the woman said. “Talk to your fairy benefactor. Find out where the demon is and then you’ll be of some use. But until then….”
She didn’t finish that sentence with words. She shut the door in his face. Which sucked.
He could paw at the door. He could howl and growl and maybe even knock the damn thing down, but what would that accomplish? Nothing. He couldn’t even call Bitterroot like this. He could only snort and plop down on his useless paws as he stared out—
“Feeling rejected? Oh, poor baby.” Bruce’s head snapped up, and there was the fairy, standing there with his tomato hat on and a smarmy look on his face. Bitterroot tugged on his lettuce lapels as he twirled around. “I’m beginning to like this outfit. I’m so handsome that I make even this look good.”
Bruce didn’t answer. He didn’t have a human mouth to say anything, though he did wonder if the creature could read his thoughts. Just in case, he thought something really loud.
You look like I could cut you in half with one bite.
The fairy stopped admiring himself and arched a brow. “You could try,” he said, challenge in his tone and posture.
Okay, so the guy could read his thoughts. That was disconcerting.
“Only the really loud ones. You’re buried in Oh poor me. I’m mute. I’m ugly. Nobody loves me.”
He hadn’t been thinking any of that. It had been more of a fuck you to everyone and the world. But either way, maybe he could find a way to turn this to his advantage.
Do you know where the demon is? The one that everyone’s looking for?
“The one that’s killing the world?”
Well, it was just Wisconsin at the moment, but yeah, the whole world was going to tumble pretty soon after that.
Bitterroot offered up that shiny red apple. “Take a bite,” he said. “Maybe you’ll be the hero everyone needs.”
Bruce turned his paw over and tried really hard to raise his middle finger. Damn it, he couldn’t even give the guy a one-fingered salute. He dropped his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. Problem was, the fairy was still there, clear as day, though his eyes were closed.
Asshole.
“You can do it, you know. Be the hero everyone needs. My people have seen that much, but first you have to take the apple.”
Bruce rolled onto his side, stretching out his legs. Every drug dealer promised the same thing. Take this and you’ll feel better. You’ll be happy and everyone will love you. It was all lies.
“I don’t lie, remember?”
Said every liar
