Warrior (Relentless #4)(15)

I still wasn’t sure what I was doing here. I’d picked up my phone half a dozen times yesterday to call Paulette, and each time something had stopped me from making the call. It could have been the waves of anger coming from my Mori every time I thought about having someone else make this visit.

Or it could have been the questions burning in my mind ever since Friday night. Sara was definitely Mohiri, and we had a bond. I could feel it; my Mori could feel it. Why, then, hadn’t she shown a hint or recognition or a sign she’d felt something? The more time that passed, the more I had to see her again to make sense of it all.

And how the hell had she survived alone all these years? I could see the werewolves keeping her safe from predators, but how had her demon not driven her insane? Could it be related somehow to the reason her Mori was so quiet? The more I’d thought about it, the more I wondered if her Mori could be sick. I’d heard of it happening, and there had to be some explanation for all of this.

The idea of Sara or her Mori being sick sent a chill through me. It’s not that, I reassured myself. An ailing Mori would cause the person to fall physically ill. Our symbiotic relationship gave us our demon’s strength, but also their weakness. If her Mori was sick, she would be too, but she’d looked healthy when I met her in the club.

My Mori fluttered excitably a few seconds before I rounded a bend in the road and spotted the girl on the bicycle. I didn’t need to see her face to know who she was.

What in God’s name is she doing out here alone? We were on the outskirts of the small town, and I hadn’t seen any houses or buildings for the last few miles. After what had happened Friday night, I was shocked to find her out alone, even in daylight. Most people in her situation would still be terrified from an experience like that.

I passed her and started to ease off the gas, but the fear I saw cross her face changed my mind. This wasn’t the best place to talk to her anyway. I figured she was heading home, so I decided to go on and wait for her.

It wasn’t difficult to find the three-story brick building she lived in. I parked the Ducati in front of the coffee shop next door and leaned against the front of the shop to wait for Sara. Ten minutes later, she appeared at the end of the waterfront and pedaled toward me. When she was a few hundred yards away, I felt her presence and my Mori pressed forward happily.

Sara obviously didn’t share the sentiment, and she wore a scowl when she stopped in front of me.

“How did you find me?” she asked curtly.

I couldn’t help but admire her spirit. “What, no hello after everything we’ve been through together?”

Something like annoyance flashed across her face. “Hello. How did you find me?”

Sensing that the direct approach was the only way to go, I said, “I tracked your friend’s license plate.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

When I’d decided to come here, I thought I’d known exactly what to say to her. But facing her now and seeing her confusion and alarm, I knew this was not going to be as easy as I’d planned. I stepped away from the building. “We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” There was a slight quiver in her voice, and her shoulders tensed as if she was going to run.

“You look ready to flee. I don’t bite, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought about the other fellow.”

Her wry humor took me by surprise and pulled a laugh from me. She was smaller than the average Mohiri female, and she didn’t have any physical strength or fighting ability based on what I’d seen the other night. But she had fire, and there was nothing cowardly or weak about her.

“You sound like you’re well recovered at least.” I’d worried she might be traumatized once the reality of what had happened set in, and I was relieved to see her looking whole and well. She was wary of my reasons for being here, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

“I’m not here to harm you, and we really do need to talk.”

“What could we have to talk about?” Her brows drew together. “I don’t even know your last name.”

I smiled. “It’s Danshov, and your last name is Grey. Now that we’re acquainted, can we talk?”

She chewed her lower lip, and for a moment I thought she was going to say no.

“Okay.”

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” The conversation we were about to have was not one I wanted other people to overhear.

She looked around. “We can go down to the wharves. They’re usually pretty empty this time of day.”

“That will work.”

I waited for her to put her bike up. She was quiet when she came back and started walking with me toward the wharves. I wondered what she was thinking, and how long it would take her to ask me the point of my visit. She didn’t strike me as a person who would wait long for answers.

For my part, I was curious about how a Mohiri orphan ended up in a small town in the middle of Maine. I’d done a little digging this morning and found out that the Alpha of the Maine pack lived in New Hastings. One of her friends was the Alpha’s son and the other was his nephew. Sara was in with the most powerful werewolf pack in the country.

“How long have you been friends with the werewolves?” I asked as we strolled along a long, empty wharf.

There was a brief pause before she answered. “A long time.”