Amos called me a few things that Mama Dulce would have grounded me for repeating as he rolled around. I picked my way around him, ignoring Radcliff and Scarlett, who went back and forth between raising their daggers at me and starting to put them away.
“You’re going to regret that,” Amos growled as I squatted down next to him.
“Oh come off it, Fletching.” I rolled my eyes. “We both know you were trying to wind us up.”
Amos tried to smile at me, but it looked pretty gruesome since his nose was still bleeding and blood was smeared on his teeth. “Maybe so, but you hit me. Do you have any idea of the laws that are going to get thrown at you?”
“Oh, I have a rough idea.” I casually rested my arms on my legs and smiled down at him. “But I also know that there are very, very few penalties for hunter on hunter violence. Just a few fines, in fact.”
Amos’s smile faded, and he swore at me again as he unsuccessfully tried to rock to his feet.
“I can live with a fine,” I continued, “knowing you were hoping for a much bigger target.” I gave Amos my most perfect Timber Ridge Welcome Center Smile. “So go ahead. File a complaint. Try to go after Greyson. Just remember, I’m here…and I’m just like you.”
I patted Amos on the hand, stood up, walked back to my waiting backpack and scooped it up.
“You’ll be hearing from the Curia Cloisters,” Amos snarled.
I winked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. It was nice to meet you, Radcliff, Scarlett!” I waved to the younger hunters, shouldered my bag, and tried to beat a hasty retreat.
Not because I thought the hunters were going to react poorly—I’d effectively de-escalated the situation. The wolves and humans wouldn’t react no matter what Amos said, now, since I’d broken his nose.
But I had to get outta there because—
“Why do I smell blood?”
Too slow—again!
I hastily slapped a smile on and hid my hand behind my back. “Greyson. Hello. There might have been a small accident. You should check with Aeric and Wyatt for the details.”
I tried to side shuffle away, but Greyson draped an arm over my shoulders and towed me with him.
He walked more slowly than usual so I could keep up with him without having to jog. “And would this accident involve your fists and Amos Fletching’s face?”
“Maybe,” I said. “It depends what the Curia Cloisters find.”
We stopped a short distance away from everyone to enjoy the show.
Young Jack had recovered enough that he was laughing so hard he had sat down on the lawn. Amelia was still watching me with surprise as Teresa tugged on her arm.
The wolves were in a huddle as Aeric and Wyatt lectured Forrest and Remy, who were looking properly shamed.
The hunters were crowded around Amos, trying to help him stand and offering tissues to staunch the flow of his nose.
Amos growled at his family and waved them off as he staggered.
“This seems like a good time to tell you the Fletching hunters discovered wolfsbane in the Low Marsh wolf’s system,” I said.
Greyson watched the hunters with an emotionless mask. “I know.”
Surprised, I turned away from the hunters. “What? How could you know? He told us he was coming to tell you!”
“Pre-Dominant Harka sent me the report as soon as she received it,” Greyson said.
Ahhh yes, that’s hardly surprising considering she practically hand picked him as her replacement.
“So, what do you think?” I asked.
Greyson’s expression was unreadable as he looked out at the chaos I had caused. “I think someone is playing a dangerous game, and gravely underestimates the power of the Northern Lakes Pack.”
His golden eyes seemed to glow as he spoke, and the werewolves—sensitive to the influence of his power—immediately swung around to face him.
He let his arm slide off my shoulders and took a few steps closer to his wolves, making them stand straighter with their chests puffed and their eyes fixed on him.
“Showoff,” I mouthed at Greyson’s back.
He must have sensed my mutinous spirit somehow—even though I didn’t actually say anything—because he abruptly swung around to face me again.
“I’ll take you to the Curia Cloisters when you are called there,” he said. “I can tell them to hold the inquiry over the weekend so you won’t need another day off when you report in.”
I relaxed, gratified that was all he wanted. “I’d appreciate the weekend thing, but you don’t need to drive me. I have a car. I can drive myself. It’s a few hours away, but maybe I’ll spend the weekend there and see if I can visit Chase at the Night Court.”
“You live with my Pack,” Greyson said. “My rules.”
Your rules? Your. Rules? That settles it. I’m asking Aeric to start putting GPS tracking on Greyson’s phones so I can give his exact location to all visiting werewolf females. Maybe I’ll even start advertising it as a travel package—“Are you the Alpha-bachelor’s mate? Find out over a long weekend trip to picturesque northern Wisconsin!” We could merchandise it and make a killing!
Soothed by my plan of action, I was able to keep a pleasant expression on. “So glad to hear that even though you’re a busy Alpha with a lot of responsibilities, you can take time off to drive me—who is perfectly capable of driving myself.”
“You’ll need the backup,” Greyson said. “I won’t pit you against the entire Curia Cloisters on your own.”
Softened by the explanation, I relaxed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call the Quillons while I walk home. They’ll have one of their fancy lawyers waiting at the Cloisters for me. They’re supposedly hunters, but I’m pretty sure the lawyers are part fae—or at least get coaching from fae—because they have a way with words that is terrifying.”
Greyson rubbed the five o’clock shadow that stubbled his jawline. “That’s not good enough. I’ll reach out to my contacts. They’ll keep me updated with the process.” He meaningfully looked at Amos, who was holding a tissue to his nose as he shouted over his cellphone.
“Besides,” Greyson said. “I know why you hit him.” His eyes flicked to the werewolves and humans. “The Pack owes you.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I awkwardly cleared my throat.
Greyson watched me for a moment longer, the intensity of his golden eyes making me want to fidget even though I couldn’t feel his compulsive power behind it.
When he turned away to address the wolves, I sagged a little, grateful the moment was over.
It is not fair at all that I’m told I have dog vibes when Greyson—who can actually turn into a wolf—has enough charisma to choke a person.
I slid my thumbs under the canvas straps of my backpack and hiked them farther up, then turned in the direction of my cottage to make my escape.
Behind me, Amos Fletching railed on his phone. “Yes, a report! I was attacked, by a hunter, and I want full charges to be brought against her!”
*
The car ride down to Magiford—which was placed halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago, straddling the state lines of Wisconsin and Illinois—took roughly four and a half hours.