Refuge(44)

“Promise me.”

“I will, I promise. So, what’s been going on with you?”

I opened my mouth to tell him about the demon attack and shut it just as quickly. I couldn’t tell him something like that; it would freak him out. The only reason he was okay with me moving here was he thought it would be safer for me. And it was, just not as much as he believed.

“Hugo and Woolf are doing a lot better, and they don’t growl as much at people. Did you get the picture I sent of them?”

“Yes, and I thought someone was spamming me until I realized you were using a different email address. That picture’s not Photoshopped, is it?”

I chuckled. “Nope.”

He let out a low whistle. “When you told me about them, they didn’t sound real. Who would believe hellhounds really exist? But then, a few months ago, I didn’t think a lot of things were real. Do their eyes always glow like that?”

“Yes, but I think the camera flash makes them look redder than usual.”

“They look terrifying. Are you sure it’s safe to be around them?”

“Absolutely. Trust me; Tristan wouldn’t let me near them if he thought I’d get hurt. He’s almost as bad as Nikolas.” Nate knew all about Tristan being my grandfather, and he’d said he was glad I had family here. If he found the idea of me having a grandfather who looked almost young enough to be his son strange, he didn’t let on.

“Ah, I knew you sounded out of sorts, and I can guess why. No word from Nikolas yet?”

I threw down my pencil and it skidded across the desk. “He’s back.”

“And?” Nate asked slowly.

“And he showed up out of the blue today to tell me he’s going to train me now. Just like that!” I still couldn’t believe Tristan was making me do this. I’d tried to track him down after dinner, but he was suspiciously unavailable. I was contemplating not showing up for training tomorrow, but something told me Nikolas would not let me out of it that easily.

“I know you were upset when he left and you missed him, but he probably had a very good reason for leaving.”

“I did not miss him.” I got up and started pacing. “I just think he could have had the courtesy to say he was leaving. I don’t see him for weeks, and now he’s back and he thinks he can tell me what to do again. I don’t think so. You should see how the others act around him. They talk about him like he’s a god or something. As if he needed to be more full of himself.”

Nate waited until I finished my rant before he spoke. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m glad you’ll be working with him. You told me yourself that your training is not going well. Maybe Nikolas can help you. If I learned anything about him during the weeks you were gone, it was how dedicated he is and how much he cares for your wellbeing.”

“More likely he wanted to make sure he did his job right,” I said bitterly.

“That’s your anger talking. You don’t really mean that.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. He left, Nate.”

“And now he’s back.”

I didn’t say anything, and for a long moment there was silence on the line.

“Listen, I have to get back to work. I told my editor I’d let her have the first five chapters this week.” I heard the soft whir of his chair and knew he was headed back to his office. “Don’t be too mad at Nikolas. I’m sure he had a good reason for being away this long.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Dejected, I sank down in my chair again. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

My stomach growled when I hung up, reminding me I hadn’t finished my dinner. I went to my small kitchenette to grab the blueberry muffin I’d stashed there earlier. Pulling off the plastic, I nibbled at the muffin as I walked back to my desk. The cooks here were amazing, but their blueberry muffins had nothing on Nate’s.

Thinking about Nate’s baking made me homesick again. I laid the muffin on my desk and went to my closet to start going through the boxes I hadn’t had the heart to open yet. The box containing my grandmother’s quilts was ripped on one corner, and I pulled them out to make sure they hadn’t been damaged. Nate had collected them from my home in Portland after my dad died, and I treasured them as much as my dad’s books. My favorite was a blue one with a different bird beautifully hand-stitched into each square. I shook out the quilt, thinking it would look great on my bed. In fact, it was time I started to add my own touches to the room and make it feel more like mine.

“What the – ?” Something squished between my bare toes. I looked down at the blueberry muffin I had left on the desk. “How the hell did that get there?”