Wolf Hunted, стр. 31
Bjorn waved Remy over while he watched Lennart disappear into the kitchen gardens between the restaurant and the brewery.
Remy inhaled as if to clear his mind. “We’re not going to be any help locating cameras,” he said. “The concealments must be calibrated for wolves. I felt and saw nothing beyond Bjorn catching the enchantment.”
Bjorn inhaled in very much the same way as Remy had. “That calibration alone is interesting information.”
Remy’s nose twitched as if he smelled something unbecoming floating in on the breeze. “This is dark wolf magic,” he said. “Gerard and Axlam were sure of it at the park, and I agree.”
Bjorn’s nose also twitched. “We have one. We can use it to find others. We’ll get this under control by the time the pack runs.”
Remy did not look as certain as Bjorn. This running needed extra elves anyway—elves who would be as distracted by Samhain magic and a blizzard as the wolves.
And I had a gut feeling what that meant. “Bjorn,” I said. “Anything that negatively affects the pack has the possibility of negatively affecting the entire town.”
Bjorn rubbed at a glamoured ear. “This isn’t a Dracula situation,” he said.
Maybe. I hoped Bjorn was right. “Ed will do everything he can to protect the pack, the elves, and the town,” I said. “But there won’t be elves around to help. His family will be at risk.”
Bjorn looked up at the sky. “We do not allow mundanes in The Hall.” He spoke the words without any hint of emotion. I couldn’t tell if he found this annoying, or if he agreed with me.
“I’m mundane,” I said.
Bjorn laughed. “You are no more mundane than the wolves.” He slapped my shoulder.
“Ed is the town monster slayer,” Remy said. “He killed that vampire, Bjorn. You were there. You saw what he did. I think that counts.”
Bjorn shook his head. “This is not a simple matter.”
Remy must have smelled indecision on Bjorn because he pounced. “The three Alphas of the Alfheim Pack formally request—”
“Enough,” Bjorn snapped. A pillar of thunder magic rose off his shoulders and flickered much like Akeyla’s fire. He turned his back to Remy.
Some mundane, somewhere, had caused enough of a problem inside a Great Hall that the elves of Alfheim had placed a moratorium on regular humans entering the magic.
Remy pulled out his phone. “I’m going home.” He swiped at the screen. “I need to discuss this with Gerard and Axlam before we brief the pack.” He swiped through his messages. He stopped on one, and his eyebrow arched. “The boy continues with his obstinate behavior,” he said.
Which would make the feast fun for Maura.
Remy sighed. “Oh, he understands that what he said to Akeyla was inappropriate. He explained to his father what you explained to him, Frank. He knows.” Remy put his phone back into his pocket. “He just needs to understand that she has just as much of a right to be emotional about this as he does.” He nodded toward Bloodyhood’s cab.
Bjorn shook his head.
Remy walked backward toward his truck. “At this point, he’s more upset about being wrong than he is about what he was wrong about in the first place.” He pulled his car keys from his pocket. “It’s an alpha thing, and it does not take well to interference.”
Bjorn remained silent.
Remy saluted, and walked toward his vehicle.
Bjorn looked over his shoulder, then back toward Raven’s Gaze. “Those two ravens?” He pointed at the oak tree. “They don’t like Arne.” He faced me. “Our Odinsson elf.” More magic lifted off his shoulders. “They love Dagrun. They’re happier to see her than they are to see Lennart.”
I wasn’t surprised. “She said they were here to bear witness.”
“Ah, yes.” Bjorn gripped my shoulder. “Our King and Queen have their own distractions this Samhain.”
I shrugged. “Dagrun mentioned as much at the farm.”
Bjorn stared at the restaurant. “This is one of the few times in my long life that I truly wish for Magnus’s presence.”
“You can always call Benta,” I said.
A hearty laugh rumbled from Bjorn. “I did ask her to cat sit, didn’t I?”
Ah, the wonderful Mr. Mole Rat. “I do not understand how such long lived elves can be so…” I shook my head.
Bjorn laughed again. He leaned close. “What is the most universal trait among all the gods everywhere, my friend?” He swept his arm at the sky above.
“Besides power?” I asked.
“Besides power,” he responded.
The answer was obvious. Every pantheon was full to the brim with gods who did not act their age. “They’re all cautionary tales,” I said.
“Close enough.” He laughed again. He touched the side of his nose. “And we are nothing, we elves, if we are not aspects of our gods.”
That they were. “Sif at the bike shop was asking about you,” I said. If we were all subject to the whims of the gods, I’d continue to attempt those inroads I was reminded of at Sif’s store.
Bjorn blinked. “She was? When?”
Sometimes I swore the elves were oblivious to the obvious. “This afternoon.”
He rubbed at his sideburn. Then he snorted out a chuckle. “This is Arne and Dagrun’s fault.”
“What?” I seemed to be asking that a lot. Not how or why, but that incredulous what as if I understood nothing. I should probably admit that I didn’t.
Bjorn grinned. “Perhaps I should offer Sif a kitten? I do not have horses.”
I couldn’t stop the resulting snort. If I’d had water in my mouth, I would have spit it everywhere. “I think she’d like that.”
Bjorn’s grin turned to a wide smile. He grasped my shoulder, squeezed, then pointed at the path to the loft. “Lennart and I will figure out how to break these concealments by tomorrow evening. We will have plenty of time to check the route.”
Would we? Something told me that if it took us this long to find one camera, that even with broken enchantments, finding anything else was