Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(29)

I reached up and rubbed the golden feather charm at my neck for good luck, then pressed my fingertips to my comms charm to ignite the magic.

“Nix? Cass?”

“Del!” Cass’s voice came through clearly. It was so good to hear a familiar voice. I might throw myself at demons, but hanging out alone on a dark moor was creepy.

“Where are you?” Nix demanded.

“No idea. On a moor somewhere. I lost Roarke.”

The wolf howled again.

“Dartmoor,” Nix said. “That’s got to be the Hound of the Baskervilles.”

I laughed. “I made the same joke. But I don’t think that hound is real.”

“I don’t know. Sherlock was pretty clued in, for a human,” Nix said.

“Want us to use our dragon sense to find you? We can come get you.” There was a pause on the other side of the line for just a moment. “I think you’re still in southeast England.”

“It’s cool,” I said. “I’m too far for you to determine my precise location, so give me an hour to see if I can find my way to civilization. I’d rather not sit around out here waiting for you. If I can’t, I’ll call.”

“Fair enough,” Nix said. “In that case, you need to head downhill. Find a river and follow it downstream. That will lead you off the moor.”

“Then find a road sign and tell us where you are,” Cass said. “We’ll come get you.”

“And hurry,” Nix said. “Weather can turn foul real quick on a moor. You don’t want to get caught in a storm.”

She was right. I could take on my Phantom form and be protected from the worst of the elements, but it would still suck.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m off. Wish me luck that I find the shortest river.”

“You’ve got it under control,” Cass said.

“Call us when you know where you are,” Nix added.

“Thanks, guys.”

The connection broke, and I was once again alone. If only I had a tour guide to get off this freaking moor. It was cold and wet, and the desolate beauty was hidden by the darkness. This was going to be one miserable hike.

I set off downhill, disoriented by the lack of stars and the moon that kept hiding behind the clouds.

The wolves’ howling grew closer, sending goosebumps over my skin. There was more than one now.

But it was no big deal.

Two shadowy figures appeared on the next ridge. The wolves.

I stiffened as they headed toward me, ready to take on my Phantom form so that their fangs couldn’t sink into me. But when they neared, I squinted.

Those weren’t wolves.

They were dogs.

Two collies. A brown one and a black one. Their tongues lolled out of their mouths in what I assumed was a doggy smile.

Apparently I’d just been paranoid.

“Hi, guys,” I said.

This was the second time in recent memory I’d had dogs show up when I was in a pickle. About a month ago, I’d met a hellhound named Pondflower. Now these two were here. Dogs liked me, it seemed. And I liked them back. Better than most humans, in fact.

They weren’t as obviously magical as Pondflower had been. She’d smelled like brimstone. These two just smelled like wet fur and looked up at me happily. But there was something special in their eyes.

“Think you could lead me off the moor?” I asked.

They looked at each other, then turned and trotted down the hill. I shrugged and followed. Since they were headed downhill, I assumed they were leading me to safety. I’d been heading in this direction anyway.

“You guys are pretty nice,” I said.

They distracted me from my injuries. With the adrenaline fading, I could feel the burns more. The dogs trotted at my side, slightly ahead of me, glancing back every now and again to make sure that I was keeping up.

When we reached the valley between two of the tors, the dogs stopped at the river that ran between. They bounded toward it and slurped up water.

The water glittered in the moonlight, which made it look inviting. I reached up to touch my cheeks and felt the stickiness of demon blood. While I bent down to wash it from my face, the brown collie waded right into the stream, wallowing happily. When I stood, he bounded out again and set off downstream.

I smiled and followed, grateful that they headed in the same direction I did. I really didn’t want to leave them behind. Why were two collies on the moor in the middle of the night anyway?

About twenty minutes later, I caught sight of a glow in the distance. The dogs picked up the pace, and so did I, loping along in my wet boots. I prayed to magic that someone friendly lived in the house where the windows glowed brightly.

But when I neared, I saw that it was a pub.

Oh, thank fates.

A wooden sign blew in the breeze. I squinted and read the name Royal William Arms. Through the windows, I could make out the golden light of the lamps and the bar that was nearly empty save for a few hearty souls sitting near the crackling fire. They had the distinctive pale eyes of one of the nocturnal, supernatural species. Magic hummed around the place.

Jackpot. I’d stumbled on a pub owned by a supernatural. That’d make things even easier. Particularly since it was probably nearly morning. If this had been a human pub, it probably wouldn’t even be open.

The dogs ran right up to the wooden door, nudging it open with their noses, and I followed.