I stared at Connor, mystified, as he ended the call and set the phone back down on the tabletop. Finally I asked, “What was that about the car?”
“Marie said they’d guessed wrong — Damon…the wolf…whatever…anyway, he did come back to the house last night. He’s still there now. So we need to go.”
“And you need to take Lucas’s car so the illusion will be complete.”
A mirthless smile. “Something like that.”
“How did she know? A vision?”
He nodded. “Yes. She said she meditated on the problem last night, and as she lay down to go to sleep, she saw the wolf come back to the house, sniff around the perimeter, and then go inside.”
Frowning, I asked, “Wasn’t it locked up?”
A lift of his shoulders. “The clean-up crew made sure every door and window was locked. But I guess locks are no big deal for a skin-walker.”
Somehow I managed to repress a shiver. Facing down a large, angry wolf was bad enough. One with magical powers? I didn’t want to think about it. “Well, that’s…convenient, I guess. I mean, at least we don’t have to go wandering around in the woods, trying to find him.” And it’s not so strange after all, I thought. Wolves do tend to return to their lairs. “So now we have to go get Lucas’s car, then drive out there?”
“Yeah. Not sure how I’m going to explain that.”
“He’s not in on the plan?”
Connor shot me an unreadable look. “No. I don’t know for sure that he would try to stop us…but I don’t know that he wouldn’t, either. So I’ll have to figure out some sort of excuse for needing his car.”
I didn’t envy him that task. But, as it turned out, that part wasn’t so difficult. Connor called Lucas and said he’d screwed up and forgotten that he had a meeting with the gallery owner down in Sedona, and Angela had a doctor’s appointment that she couldn’t cancel, and if Lucas could help him out?
Of course Lucas agreed, and Connor said we’d be over right away to get the car.
“Doctor’s appointment?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him as we went down to get in the FJ.
“First thing I could think of. Besides, I know everyone’s wondering when you’re going to get pregnant. A doctor’s appointment just sort of feeds into that, you know?”
I nodded, although I couldn’t help but feel grimly amused at the subterfuge. Connor and I knew there was no chance of a pregnancy, thanks to the charm I used every time we were intimate, but his family wouldn’t have any clue about that.
A late storm had dropped some snow the night before, but it had already begun to melt. Still, the roads were slick and treacherous, and I wasn’t looking forward to driving Connor’s SUV back to the apartment after he picked up Lucas’s car. Hard to believe it was almost spring.
No, wait. Things had been so insane lately that I hadn’t been paying much attention to the actual date, although earlier that week downtown Flagstaff had been even livelier than usual, since it was Saint Patrick’s Day. But today was the twentieth. The vernal equinox, sometimes called Ostara. Not quite there, as that moment of perfect balance between shadow and light was due to arrive later this morning.
It was a day of power. Not the same strength as the solstice, but I tried to take heart in that. Perhaps I could harness the power of balance in my confrontation with Damon. After all, what he had done was a perversion of nature, of the order of things. It wasn’t that huge a leap to think that maybe the universe would lend me a hand in restoring the balance to what it should be.
We pulled up in front of a house not quite as large as Damon’s, but still pretty impressive, wood and stone, sitting on a lot that had to be almost an acre. The other homes in the neighborhood were equally large and well-kept. If there were any poor Wilcoxes, I had yet to meet one.
Connor got out and came around to the passenger side, then helped me down to the ground, holding my hand firmly as we negotiated our way up the icy front walk. Or maybe he was holding on to me for reassurance, just as much as providing a steady hand so I wouldn’t slip.
It took a moment for Lucas to answer the door after we rang the bell. I knew he’d been expecting us, but the house was big enough that I thought it could possibly take him a good chunk of time to get to the front door, depending on where he’d started from. When he did finally open it, though, he smiled at us, cheery as ever.
I had a feeling he wouldn’t be quite so cheery if he knew the real reason why we were there.
But since he didn’t, he gave us a hearty greeting, invited us in. Even though the place was just a little smaller than Damon’s house, something about it felt cheerier, more intimate. The colors were warmer — honey oak floors, walls a soft parchment color. And he had a fire going, sending the sweet scent of wood smoke through the building.