Ravensong (Green Creek 2)

MARK CAME and brought me lunch.

She was sitting in the waiting room, flipping through an ancient magazine.

The bell rang overhead as he walked in.

“Hi,” he said, sounding shy. It was the first time he’d come in since the whole you-kissed-me-and-then-I-ran-because-of-wolfish-feelings-as-you’re-my-mate-and-I-neglected-to-tell-you fiasco.

“Look who decided to show up,” I said.

I barely remembered the woman was there.

“Shut up,” Mark mumbled, setting a brown paper bag on the counter.

“It’s not a dead rabbit, is it?” I asked him suspiciously. “Because I swear to god, Mark, if it’s another dead—”

“It’s ham and swiss.”

“Oh. Well, that’s better.”

“Dead rabbit?” the woman said.

Mark flinched. I jerked my head toward her.

She arched an eyebrow at us.

I said, “Inside joke.”

She said, “Huh.”

Mark’s nostrils flared.

I pinched his arm to remind him he was in public, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t go around sniffing everyone.

He looked at her for a moment longer before turning back to me.

“Thank you,” I told him.

He preened just a little.

He was so predictable.

“TAKE ME a couple of days to get the parts in,” Marty told her. “Won’t take long to get it fixed once in, but your car is German-made. Don’t see those around here much. You could drive it, but I can’t guarantee you won’t make the problem worse and break down in the middle of nowhere. You’re in the country, girlie.”

“So I noticed,” she said slowly. “That’s… unfortunate. I did see a motel on my way into town.”

He nodded. “It’s clean. You tell Beth I sent you. She’ll give you a discount. Green Creek is small, but we’re good people. We’ll treat you right.”

She laughed, eyes twinkling. She

glanced at me again before looking back at Marty. “I suppose we’ll see.”

THAT NIGHT Abel sat on the porch, waving as members of his pack arrived for the full moon the next night. He looked content.

“Gordo,” he said as I came out to tell him dinner was almost ready, “come here for a moment.”

I went.

He put his hand on my shoulder.