“I appreciate your faith in me.” I breathed him in once more. “Drive safe.”
Asa pressed his warm lips to my temple and shut his eyes. “I hate this.”
“Me too.” I stepped away, forced my hands not to reach for him. “Okay, I need to get to work.”
The night was wasting, and I had a shift at the shop in the morning.
I climbed into the cab, and Asa shut the door for me while I strapped in. I cranked the engine, happy to hear it rumble to life with no problem. I hadn’t been certain the truck was abandoned on purpose, or if it suffered a malfunction during its ordeal with the pissed-off soon-to-be-momma dobhar-chú.
Clay and Asa began their walk back to the SUV they would drive to their next assignment.
Me?
I elbowed Aedan until he cracked open one bloodshot eye, then began the slow process of unsticking the heavy truck from the mud gripping its tires. I wasn’t sure how the driver had gotten into the field. There was no obvious damage to the fence. He must have spotted a gate or road and used that.
Which meant now I got the fun of backtracking to cause as little damage as possible.
No Black Hat backing meant any repairs came out of my pocket.
“I should have let Astaroth kill me,” he mumbled. “It would have hurt less than this.”
“It wouldn’t have felt like anything at all,” I countered, “and you never would have felt anything again.”
A quiet settled over him, but I couldn’t tell if he thought that was a good or bad thing.
With a long night ahead of us, I put my temporary partner to good use. “So…where are we going?”
That jarred him out of his head. “What do you mean?”
“These pups have to go somewhere that’s not here. Where do you recommend?”
“Coastal would be ideal.” He pushed himself up straight. “I have a friend who can take them to Florida.”
“The Everglades?”
Lots of paras called it home, and they were all invested in spooking off humans who got too close.
“Yeah.” He stared out the window. “Lots of river otters there too.”
Thinking of how cute actual otters were, I had to ask, “Do they like to play together?”
“I can make a call,” he rushed out, “and get my friend here tomorrow morning.”
With sinking dread, I grasped what he didn’t want to say. “They eat them?”
“They’ll eat anything they can take down.” He winced. “They just really like otters.”
“Cannibals,” I muttered. “I think I hate dobhar-chú.”
“Most people do.” He rubbed the side of his throat. “I need to get in water soon.”
Faint bluish spots began to show beneath his skin. “Are you wearing a glamour or…?”
“Or,” he said with a grin. “Definitely or.”
Since he was the man with a contact, I had to lean on him. “How do you want to handle this?”
“We should go back to your place. I’ll bring the cage down to the creek to make the pups comfortable.” He frowned at his flaking skin. “I can carry it to my friend when he arrives in the morning. He can park in the driveway, right? Without affecting your wards?”