“Ice cream tongue,” she said.
Sam looked at Skippy, who gave Meg’s ankle a lick before turning back to the last bit of ice cream. He looked at Simon and grinned.
Simon flashed a grin at the pup and then looked away before Meg noticed. She had a special relationship with Sam. Because she was a cassandra sangue, she didn’t feel like prey, didn’t smell like prey. That had confused all of them when she’d first come to work for the Courtyard—especially him. But that difference had sparked Sam’s curiosity, had drawn the pup out of the trauma of his mother’s death. Meg was like a big sister who was wise and brainless at the same time.
It was a good match for Sam’s puppy brain as long as there was an adult Wolf close by to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble.
When they’d finished the cones, Simon returned the bowl to Chocolates and Cream. As he came out of the shop, he saw Lieutenant Montgomery and all the members of his pack, along with the Denbys.
“Coming for some ice cream?” Simon asked.
“If that’s all right,” Montgomery said.
Simon nodded, pleased that Montgomery understood that making room for a different kind of pack required adjustments for everyone involved. “There are several flavors this week.” He looked at the oldest female in that pack. “Miss Twyla.”
“Mr. Simon.” Twyla nodded her head. “It’s a fine night.”
It would have been finer if he’d been wearing fur instead of jeans and a shirt. Speaking of fur . . . Simon squinted. Meg stood there with her hands over her eyes. Behind her was a pile of discarded clothes and a furry Wolf pup.
Sam had had enough of the human form.
The pup gave Meg’s knee a lick, making her squeak loudly enough to draw the attention of all the Wolves and Sanguinati in the square.
“I have to go,” Simon said, seeing Blair and Nathan heading toward Meg.
Montgomery tried but couldn’t quite keep a straight face. Miss Twyla didn’t even try. The Denbys and the Sierra had glanced at Meg and Sam, then herded all the human children into the shop, sufficiently distracting them.
By the time Simon returned to Meg, Vlad had joined them, but Sam and Skippy had scampered off to sniff all the new and interesting scents.
<Do not lift your leg in the Market Square.> Simon’s order was fast enough to stop Sam but not fast enough to stop Skippy.
“We’re heading back to the Wolfgard Complex,” Blair said. “We can take those two with us.”
“If you want to shed your clothes and shift to Wolf, I can drop off all the clothing on my way home,” Vlad offered.
“Meg and I will walk home, so you can take her BOW,” Simon said.
“We’re walking?” Meg said.
“It’s a nice night.” And happily, they had all discovered that the sweet blood of the cassandra sangue, while alluring to the terra indigene, repelled biting insects. Probably some instinct told the bugs that Meg’s blood was lethal to them.
Nathan and Blair left the Market Square to discreetly shift into Wolf form. The two Wolves collected Sam and Skippy while Vlad collected the clothing and headed out in Meg’s Box on Wheels.
That much settled, Simon smiled and turned back to Meg, looking forward to some time alone with her after a busy day full of human strangers. Then his smile faded and he looked to see who had caught her attention.
Lieutenant Montgomery. Miss Twyla. And, mostly, the Sierra, who was just coming out of the shop with an ice cream cone, followed by her two daughters and Lizzy. Simon watched Meg watching the Montgomery pack and rubbing her right arm as if there was something buzzing under her skin.
“Let’s go home, Meg.” He took her hand and led her out of the Market Square, feeling the tension in her. He wanted to run, wanted to pull her away from the humans as fast as possible. But if she tripped, a scrape would be as bad as a cut with the razor. Worse, because a scrape might not leave a scar that would indicate that the skin had already been used for prophecy.
Eventually Meg relaxed and began to notice the small amount human eyes could see by moonlight.
“Something’s coming,” Meg whispered.
“We already knew that. You already drew the prophecy cards that warned us.”
And her reaction tonight confirmed that the threat to the Courtyard and the city of Lakeside was connected to Montgomery and his pack.
“No.” She pointed. “Something’s coming.”
He’d been focused on her, on the threat she’d seen coming toward Lakeside, and hadn’t taken in the potential threat coming right at them now.
Not a threat, he decided as his fingers tightened on Meg’s, then relaxed. This was just another Courtyard resident enjoying a fine summer night.
Air rode by on Mist—not the barrel-bodied, chubby-legged pony but the elegant, and dangerous, steed. The Elemental smiled at them as she passed, and Mist . . . misted.
Meg laughed as water droplets cooled warm skin.
Simon smiled, enjoying the pleasant sensation produced by the water—and by Meg’s laughter.
CHAPTER 5
Windsday, Messis 8
Simon kept glancing at Meg as he drove the BOW toward the Market Square. Her hands were closed into tight fists and she stared straight ahead, not talking, not even paying attention to the land. If he hadn’t been convinced already that she shouldn’t spend the day around a crowd of strangers, he was certain of it now.
She had endured the first day of the job fair when it had been the Simple Life folk, and she had seemed to fully recover by the next morning. But she’d lasted only until noon on the second day of the job fair. Nathan had warned him about the itchy restlessness that had plagued Meg throughout the morning and kept the watch Wolf alert for the slightest hint of blood. That had made Simon, Vlad, and Tess look more closely at the humans crowded into A Little Bite and realize that humans from Lakeside were mixed in with the Intuits and Simple Life folk. Some came in because they saw other people inside the coffee shop and were curious—or simply wanted to buy a cup of coffee. Some came looking for work but backed out fast when they learned where they would be sent—and who would watch their every breath once they left Lakeside.
Those additional humans seemed to be the tipping point for Meg, overloading her ability to endure the futures of so many people prickling and buzzing under her skin. That was why Simon had already decided she wouldn’t go to the Liaison’s Office today—and already knew that she couldn’t be left alone with the silver razor.
He slowed down as they reached the fork in the Courtyard’s main road. Going straight would take them to the Market Square. Going to the right would take them to the Pony Barn. He saw a handful of ponies standing near the fork. Jester must have told them Meg was going to spend the morning with them and they were waiting for her.
“Stop.” Meg’s voice was barely audible, even to his Wolf-sharp hearing.
“We’re almost—”
“Stop the BOW!” Her voice rose in a wail. “Stop!”
She opened the door and tried to leap from the BOW.
Simon grabbed her arm to keep her inside and stomped on the brakes. “Meg, wait.”
She flailed at him, screaming and trying to scratch. The attack surprised him so much, he let go of her arm. Then she was out of the BOW and running back toward the Green Complex.
He threw the BOW into PARK, flung himself out the door, and ran after her.
Jenni Crowgard flew over him, then turned and flew back to him. <What’s wrong with our Meg?>
<We have to stop her before she gets hurt.> Running in a blind panic, she could trip and fall.