Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(57)
Angus was still kissing Tamsin when Ciaran shouted to the crowd, “She said yes! She said yes!”
More whoops, cheers, advice for Angus to run for it, for Tamsin to as well. Applause and laughter.
Tamsin eased out of the kiss. She remained in Angus’s arms, her warmth threatening to break him, and brushed moisture from her lips with her fingertips. When Angus gazed down at her, never wanting to look away, she wrinkled her nose in good humor.
A loudspeaker switched on, and Dante’s voice blared out. “We have a lost kid, folks. Look around for Natalie, wearing a red top and a black skirt. She’s nine and has brown hair in braids, brown eyes. Last seen over by the Amazing Louis show—he’s the guy with the three heads. If you find Natalie, please bring her to the office located on the west side of the park. Natalie, your mom says to come find her—she’s worried and she won’t be mad.”
“Yes, she will,” Ciaran said as the loudspeaker switched off and everyone looked around to see if a girl with a red shirt was nearby. “My dad’s always seriously mad when he can’t find me. He yells as me when I get home.”
“It’s what worried people do,” Tamsin said. “Come on. I can find her. Just need to talk to her mom first.”
She picked up her hat and headed for the west side of the park at a run, Ciaran two steps behind her. Angus growled in his throat and took off after them.
The mother wasn’t worried—she was panic-stricken.
Tamsin found the office, a small trailer that belonged to the fairgrounds, which Dante had taken over for the carnival’s short stay.
A sign proclaiming Lost and Found reposed over a table holding a jumble of items—plastic toys, dog leashes, cheap jewelry.
Dante, in his colorful coat, tried to comfort Natalie’s mother and father, who were scared and trying not to show it. Natalie’s mother blinked back tears to thank a girl of about eleven who carried a cup of coffee to her.
The girl who brought the coffee had honey-blond hair and the dark eyes and fine bones of Celene but the limberness of Dante. One-quarter Fae and one-half Shifter, Tamsin mused. That must make for an interesting combination. Bet she’s amazing.
“What can I do for you?” Dante began as Tamsin strode in, but Tamsin ignored him and went straight to Natalie’s mother.
“I’ll find her, don’t you worry,” Tamsin said, crouching down next to her. “Sit here and drink Dante’s coffee, and I’ll have Natalie back in a jiffy.”
While Tamsin kept up her cheery chatter, she inhaled scents—soap, sweat, warm clothes, and terror. Somewhere in there would be Natalie, and Natalie would have her parents’ scents all over her as well.
Tamsin turned away and headed out the door, nearly falling over Angus, who waited with Ciaran on the step outside.
“Low profile,” he admonished her as they walked away.
“I’ll be so low profile no one will even see me,” Tamsin said. “I can find Natalie. I’m good at scents. The less time her parents have to fret, the better. And if some sick bastard took her, I’ll know that too. And then you can kick his ass.” She grinned up at him. “See? We already make a great team. I just need somewhere private to shift.”
“I want to go with you,” Ciaran announced.
For once, Tamsin was the one who said no. “I’ll move too fast, and I won’t be able to wait for you. Why don’t you stay and get to know Dante’s daughter better? She’s cute.”
Ciaran scowled. “I can keep up. Promise.”
“We’ll both follow you,” Angus said firmly. “Natalie might be less scared if she sees a boy her own age.”
“As if I can be scary,” Tamsin said loftily, but she acquiesced.
The carnival was a different place once Tamsin was a fox and darting around the fringes of it. Scents came to her in layers upon layers—the fatty smell of hot dogs, the bite of mustard and relish, the sharp sweetness of cotton candy. Mud, spilled soda, candy wrappers brushed with melted chocolate, the dank odor from the porta-potties. Sweat, fear, excitement, frustration, anger, happiness, hope, desire.
Every emotion had a scent, a body giving off more or less of it as people wound through the gamut of their feelings.
Somewhere in this swirling wilderness of smells was one small child. Was the girl afraid and alone? Gleefully evading her parents? Or taken by someone and terrified?
If she’d been taken, Tamsin wouldn’t stop until she tracked them down, and then she’d rip open whoever had nabbed the girl. She’d said she’d let Angus do that, but Tamsin knew that if she came across a child abductor, she wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Angus walked nearby, though not too close to her, with Ciaran. Angus said he’d keep her in sight, and probably scent-sight too, as wolves were fantastic trackers, even in human form. Tamsin had deduced that about Angus the moment she’d laid eyes on him across the room in the plantation house while she’d won at poker.
Angus had chased and caught her, and now Tamsin would be his mate. She called that expert tracking.
Dante’s security was searching the grounds, but they hadn’t found anything so far. Tamsin shifted behind the porta-potties, alone, with Angus to stand watch, then slipped through brush, wandering around the edges of the fairgrounds. The brush had plenty of thorns that stuck in her fur. She resisted stopping to bite them out, but they drove her crazy.