“Pizza night.” Sawyer grinned. “Once a week.”
“Done.” Bran toasted the idea. “And as Sasha and Sawyer handle dinners otherwise, I propose they’re exempt from getting pizza. The rest of us can alternate that as well.”
“I like pizza.” Annika, after savoring the first, chose a second slice.
“I pity those who don’t. As for strategies . . .” Bran cocked an eye at Doyle.
“I figure the three of us can hammer some out.”
“Meaning the three of you. Men.”
Doyle shrugged at Sasha’s statement. “Ever fought a war, Blondie?”
“Not until now.”
“Ever play war?” Sawyer asked. “As a kid?”
“Well, no.” Since Annika didn’t appear to mind being dismissed, Sasha felt the burden of female pride rested fully on her shoulders. “I bet Riley did.”
“And I’d wager she’s been in more than a few skirmishes. We’ll see what she has to say about it.”
Now Doyle shrugged at Bran. “Fine.”
“But we have to search.” Annika looked from one to the next. “We can’t stop.”
“We won’t be stopping,” Bran assured her. “But it looks as if we’ll have more regimented days, at least for now.”
“I’ll make out my end of the supply list.” Sawyer rose. “But first I’m going to start a fire in the other room. The storm’s probably dropped the temps, and we’re going to have a couple of wet . . . canines.”
“I’ll help you.” Annika rose with him. “And I’ll do the dishes. It should be my turn.”
Happy to pass that duty off, Sasha sat back with her wine. “And what’s my assignment?”
“You’d be the best to keep track of needed household supplies. And I think Doyle will agree you can be trusted to write out tasks and schedules in a fair way. We never followed through there. And I’d say the training schedule should be yours, Doyle.”
“We’ll want an early start, as one of us has one more day that ends at sundown.”
“What sort of early start?” Sasha wondered.
“Sunup. Calisthenics. You want to beef up, that’s how you start. Then breakfast—plenty of carbs for you. I’d say we need a day here, forming those strategies, starting weapons training—before we go back out to dive. When Sawyer finishes building his fire, we could start outlining some basic plans. Attack as well as defense.”
Doyle got up. “I’m going to take a walk first.”
“It’s storming,” Sasha reminded him.
“I don’t mind getting wet.”
“He’ll go up,” Bran said after Doyle walked out, “and get his sword as well as his coat. And he’ll walk the perimeter, we’ll call it. And do the same again around midnight.”
“There’s a soldier in him.”
“Oh, without question.”
“But he’s not ready to tell us about it. Sawyer’s ready. He had something to tell us before Riley interrupted and had to go.”
“Do you think so?”
“I’m sure of it. I don’t know what, but he’s ready to tell us the something more. Bran.”
He smiled. “Sasha.”
“There’s another kind of training I need, and I think you can help me. Not that,” she said with a laugh when he grinned at her. “Well, that, too. We can call that training. But I need to learn how to open more to what I have.”
“You already are. I knew about the crossbow because I watched you. Not a moment’s hesitation in you. You took it, and used it. Because you knew.”
“Not deliberately. I didn’t know deliberately, and that’s what I want. I don’t think I’ll ever control this, not completely. I don’t think I’m meant to. But if I’m to really do my part in all this, I need to have some control. I’ve spent so many years trying to suppress it, and now I want to use it. Can you help?”
“I think I can.”
“Good. I’m going to go up, work out the supplies, the assignments. And leave you men to your war council.”
He grabbed her hand before she walked by, kissed it. “There’ll be six sitting on that council before this is done. This is only the start.”
“So we’ll start with the soldier, the sharpshooter, and the magician. It would be stupid to object.”
“Add the lycan, because I think you’ve the right of that.”
And it mollified. “Should I wait in my room or yours?”
“Make your choice. I’ll find you.”
When she left, he thought he’d already found her. And that, like Doyle’s exceptional pizza in Kildare, was unexpected.
She went to her room, changed into loose cotton pants. She decided she’d do an actual chart for the task schedule, with names, days of the week, and appropriate chores and errands.
Before she got started she walked to the terrace doors, opened them to the sound of the storm.
And saw the shadow of the wolf.
She caught the scream, swallowed it back. “God. You scared me, Riley.” She took a deep breath because her voice had trembled. “I don’t know if you understand me. That’s a question we should’ve asked.”