Shift Happens(20)

Eavesdropping on the pack meeting might’ve answered some questions, but when I’d placed my ear against the cold and lifeless wood door, solid oak from the smell, not even my superior Shifter hearing could pick up anything. They’d all be leaving now.

I wouldn’t race downstairs on Wick’s heels like a lovesick puppy. Even if he did have a nice ass. I flopped onto the bed, spilling throw pillows onto the floor. The ceiling had been recently painted. The crisp white glared back, illuminated by a pendant styled light fixture. The home décor in this place so tasteful and precise it drove me nuts. Things needed imperfections.

I glanced over at the lock with my pin lodged in it and smiled. I made my mark and it was better than having to pee on something.

****

I expected to see the usual brat pack lounging in Wick’s living room for lunch, but the room appeared empty. “Where is everyone?”

Ryan looked up from the newspaper in the dining room and smiled. Every day he tackled the Preturnatural Times crossword and failed. Even on the ‘easy’ Monday ones. I couldn’t judge. I sucked at them too—not that I would let on. Four letter word for ‘it’s usually a drag’? Bunt? Seriously? What sane person would know that?

Three days ago when Wick sent Ryan away on some chore for the pack, I hid the newspaper and switched it with the paper on the next day. Ever since, Ryan worked a day old crossword. He never checked the dates and hadn’t caught on. I kept the newest paper with the answers for the previous day’s crossword well hidden.

I might not be a crossword genius, but a genius in my own rights. The Weres thought I was a human encyclopedia.

“They went with Wick on an errand.”

“Does he need that much backup?”

“Yes.” Ryan focused on the crossword. His brow furrowed.

“Why?” I slid into the seat across from him.

Ryan glanced up. “Lucien.”

That stopped me from assessing Ryan’s lack of progress on the puzzle. I looked up and briefly met Ryan’s piercing blue eyes before his gaze slid away.

“Did he send for Wick?” I asked.

Ryan sighed. “Do you think Wick would go to him willingly?”

Sinking back in my seat, I looked around. And bit back a gasp. The windows behind Ryan in the dining room were open.

Open!

I hadn’t noticed when I came downstairs. How could I miss that?

“They should be back soon.” Ryan glanced up from the paper.

Huh? Oh. Wick and the other Werewolves. They’d be back soon. I’d have to act fast. I glanced over at Ryan. He was quick. Too quick for me to make a run for it. I’d have to distract or incapacitate him to escape. And I needed to make my move before the others returned.

“What’s a five letter word for wolf?” Ryan asked, oblivious to my conundrum.

I gave him a flat stare. “Seriously?”

“What?” He looked up, confused.

Even I wasn’t that bad. “Lupus?”

His white teeth flashed as he scribbled in the letters. I got up and looked around. Maybe I could find a baseball bat and knock him out. Too risky. Weres were difficult to sneak up on and if he caught me skulking around with a beater stick, my chance to escape would be gone. Let my cat maul him? He didn’t deserve that. I couldn’t shift to a falcon in my clothes. My wings would get caught in the bulky material. It would be difficult to explain why I stripped. Unless… Thinking it over, I walked into the kitchen and looked for my hidden paper.

“Okay, Andropedia,” Ryan said.

The nickname made me smile.

“What’s ten letters for ‘horsewoman who barely made it through town’? Two words and starts with an L.”

“Hmm. Let me think,” I stalled.

I’d hid today’s newspaper with the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink. I made a show of cleaning up on a regular basis so it would explain why I kept going into the cupboard. Maybe I spent too much effort on something as trivial as crossword superiority. It wouldn’t help me escape. It did, however, provide me with a form of entertainment.

Rummaging around the various bottles, I pulled out the all-purpose cleaner and today’s newspaper. I knocked over a white bottle and reached to pick it up. When I realized what I held, I smiled. Bitter Apple—the dog repellent that discouraged chewing and used for helping new Weres gain control. Perfect.

“Well?” Ryan asked.

“I’m still thinking,” I called out. “Go to the next one.”

“I already have,” Ryan grumbled. I don’t think he meant for me to hear.

“Lady Godiva?” I said, reading off the crossword. “Does that fit?”

“Of course!” Ryan exclaimed. “That makes sense. She rode through town naked. Whoever writes these crosswords has a great sense of humour.”