Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(37)

Shay and Owen had come in, seen her, and laughed their fool heads off.

She grinned. Okay, it’d probably looked really funny. And it had been fun to hear Owen let loose. For such a grumpy cat, he had an awesome gravelly laugh. Just hearing him was worth a bit of embarrassment.

He still had her puzzled, despite all the time they spent together. He and Gawain took her out in the forest almost every morning. Of course, they didn’t spend much time conversing while in animal form. Afternoons, the guys drove off to search for the shifter-soldier camp. Evenings, they’d all go house hunting.

Darcy waved at a child playing in a big leaf pile and continued on to Main Street. As a chill wind whipped around her, she zipped up her sweatshirt. The mid-October weather had been more dry than wet, but that seemed about to change. After a rain shower earlier, a thick layer of gray clouds dimmed the sun. Just as well she had a day off from the morning hunting. Wet fur was icky.

Although…she missed her time with the guys. Who knew she’d grow so fond of them? Much like a wide mountain meadow in the sun with nothing hidden, Gawain was exactly who he seemed to be—an honest, caring, strong, brave male. He enjoyed people, was easy to be around, and was delighted with being in Cold Creek. In return, the townspeople were delighted to have gained a blademage.

Rather than a meadow, Owen was a mountain at night, full of moving shadows and hidden hollows to trip up the most careful of paws.

She smiled. Her mentors had taken her for a midnight run soon after she’d arrived. At the forest’s edge, she’d been stunned at the sight of moonlight on a still, black lake, cupped in the hollow of the mountains. The beauty, the peace… Owen had that in him, as well.

As she walked past the downtown businesses, she shook her head. Getting to know her mentors had reminded her that not all males were as vile as the prìosan guards.

“Good afternoon, Darcy,” Angie called from inside her diner. The wolf was one of Bree’s closest friends and had stopped by the lodge yesterday. “Are you running errands in town?”

Poking her head in the open door, Darcy saw the older blonde female wiping off the tables. “Breanne’s cookbook order came into BOOKS, and I’m picking it up. There’s a new recipe for fudge in it she wants to try.”

“Tell her to save me a sample.” Angie said. “Her candies are fantastic.”

“Seems like anything she makes is amazing.” Sweets were at the top of the list. When Darcy’d mentioned the prìosan never served desserts, Bree baked a different treat each day.

At a loss for how to repay such kindness, Darcy had fixed and tuned every appliance and power tool at the lodge. This morning, she’d been cleaning a cabin when Owen and Gawain found her. When they gave her permission to visit the downtown area by herself, it felt as if she’d gotten a gold star on her report card.

Angie grinned. “I love Bree’s desserts, too. And even more, I love that I don’t have to bake them.”

Darcy laughed, knowing Bree supplied all the desserts for the diner.

With a wave goodbye, she continued down the street. Cold Creek was a quiet, high mountain town surrounded by evergreen forest. Since the Daonain hated car-induced itching and preferred to walk, they’d made the downtown pedestrian-friendly. Main Street’s lanes were divided by long islands filled with trees, benches, and the last of the summer’s flowers.

Smiling at the greetings she’d received from everyone, she entered the bookstore and spotted the owner. Bree had described Joe Thorson perfectly. Older, lean, mean looking. His forearms and the backs of his hands were covered in fine white scars. From fighting, she figured. Why did males fight anyway?

“Hi,” she said and realized she’d been staring. Bad kitty.

He nodded, unsmiling.

“I, ah… Breanne asked me to pick up her cookbook order.”

“I have it in the back.” His voice was even harsher than Owen’s. “Hold on.”

“Thank you.” She waited, breathing in the fragrance of coffee and the even headier perfume of books. The forbidden books had been one of her few joys in captivity. She couldn’t count the times she’d almost been caught raiding the Scythe library.

When Thorson returned, she held out the money Bree had given her.

After he tucked the money into the old-fashioned cash register and handed the book over, she turned to leave.

“Nothing for you?” His grizzled brows drew together.

Darcy shook her head. No matter how much she lusted after books, she didn’t have the funds for…anything. Breanne had tried to give her more money than what the cookbook would cost, and Darcy’d refused. She already got free room and board. It had been somewhat of a relief when Breanne explained the territory’s funds reimbursed the lodge for her food.

“The lodge has books in their library room.” Darcy found her smile again. “In fact, they have all the Agatha Christie mysteries.”

Thorson chuckled. “Zeb’s stash. In that case, enjoy.”

Heart lightened, she stepped out onto the street and choked at the horrible stench filling the air. Something must have died or something. Or maybe a garbage can filled with rotting food had spilled?

“Darcy.” The yell came from Owen over a block away. “Get inside and tell Thorson to lock his damn door. Now.”

Startled, Darcy jumped back into the store and shouted to the old male, “Owen says to lock your door.”