Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(73)

The spymaster sat back carefully. “Forgive my impatience, Miss MacCormac. Discovering a covert organization is manipulating US politics, well, I fear it eroded my manners.”

“I understand,” Darcy said softly. “To answer your question, the prìosan staff didn’t converse in front of the hostages. However, whenever an outside visitor spent the night, I’d listen outside the window of the guest suite. Director enjoyed having drinks with them in the evenings, and it wasn’t long before they were boasting about what they’d done.”

“No patrols?”

“Yes, guards walk the grounds. But the floodlights only reach to the top of the first floor. The rooms for the staff and Scythe visitors are on the second floor.” She smiled slightly. “Ivy-covered brick walls aren’t difficult to climb.”

“I see. Nicely done.” Wells gave her a respectful nod.

Owen couldn’t help but visualize how fucking easy it would have been for the little cat to have been spotlighted like a fly on the wall—and filled with bullets. His jaw clamped down so violently his teeth might start cracking.

“Armed guards, a stone wall around the property, an automated steel gate with a guardhouse, concealed machine gun nests, floodlights.” Wells tapped his pen on the notepad.

Vicki scowled “Very third world, isn’t it?”

“Once the place is located, managing a rescue without casualties will be tricky.” Wells glanced at Calum. “I understand your concerns are only for the captive shifters. My job will include freeing the human hostages.”

Calum nodded. “I assumed you would feel that way. But first we have to find them.”





Chapter Eighteen





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Darcy walked down the stairs from her bedroom in the lodge. What should she do today?

Not shopping, obviously. After the Scythe showed up in Cold Creek last week, the Cosantir had ordered her to stay away from downtown.

Bree and her mates now locked the lodge’s front door—in case some Scythe operative showed up—which meant giving keys to their lodgers.

By the Mother, Darcy had caused everyone so much trouble.

Rather than a valuable addition to the town, she was a perilous guest. The knot in her stomach grew. What if the Scythe realized this was a shifter town? What if someone got hurt?

She’d leave, dammit, but she was stuck, caged by Daonain Law and by the need to know when the Cold Creek searchers located her villagers.

Maybe she’d spend the day in the forest. Owen and Gawain had given her permission, as long as she stayed away from the town. She wrinkled her nose. Running the trails alone wasn’t nearly as much fun, but her mentors were working on their house, hunting for the villagers, and running their smithing and carving businesses.

Just as well. She wanted to decrease the time she spent with them. Although it hurt to see less of them. Actually hurt as if she’d stubbed her heart on an unseen stone or something.

Stay strong, tinker.

She lifted her chin. Maybe she could talk Bree into going for a run.

As she crossed the main room, a high-pitched shriek came from outside in the back.

Heart hammering, Darcy ran out the back doors. The patio was empty.

At the sound of chittering, she checked the sprite in the spruce tree. The pixie was watching the creek below her.

Darcy followed its gaze and grinned.

Where the patio ended, a long expanse of tended grass rolled downhill. Five cublings around four or five years old were making stick castles beside the burbling creek. Just look at them. All fat legs and round stomachs.

Under the water, the silvery undines swirled with delight, brushing up against any fingers that ventured in their stream—and reducing the cubs to infectious giggles. One water elemental sent a thin stream of cold water toward a cubling.

The boy let out a scream and fell backward, laughing so hard he couldn’t sit up.

Well, there was the source of the shriek.

Bonnie, Emma, and a younger female lounged nearby.

“Darcy, perfect.” Bree walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray filled with sandwiches and cookies. “I was about to call you downstairs and see if you wanted to join us. Emma and her cub just arrived.”

“Is this a special occasion?”

Bree handed her the tray and disappeared back in the kitchen. Her voice drifted out. “We’re just taking advantage of such a warm, sunny day. Bonnie, Emma and their cubs adore Zeb’s little playground and the creek. You met them already, right?”

“At the Wild Hunt, yes.” Curvy, tall, golden Emma was the bard; shorter, brown-haired Bonnie was Owen and Gawain’s littermate.

“There are also a couple of wolf pack cubs with today’s caregiver. I try to keep an eye on the pack cubs when I can.” She reappeared with another tray of milk, iced tea, and glasses. “It’s kind of part of the alpha female duties.”

Right, Bree was a wolf. But alpha female? “If you’re alpha female, does that mean Shay or Zeb is the alpha male?”

“Yes, Shay is alpha, Zeb beta.” Bree led the way onto the grass and set the food on a flattened, polished log that had obviously been created to serve as a knee-high serving table. “The pack had a rough time before Shay arrived, but he’s got it functioning fairly well now.”