Page 59 of Kings of Sherwood

Sort of.

“Truce,” I mutter under my breath.

Guess that’s what this is.

DINNER’S CASUAL, WHICHsuits me. Tuck made some kind of skillet thing with sausage and beans that smells better than it looks, and there’s a bowl of cornbread on the table that’s already half-gone. We’re scattered around the living room with plates on laps and drinks within reach.

I’m on the arm of the couch, one boot resting on the coffee table, plate balanced on my knee. Maren’s curled in the wingback beside me, wearing one of Rob’s old shirts knotted at the waist. She tears off a corner of cornbread and pops it in her mouth, licking honey from her thumb.

It’s not distracting. I’m just observant.

I also observe Zayn, because truce or no, I’m not letting him out of my sight. He’s leaning in the doorframe, beer in hand, going on and on about the state of things in and around town.

“...really the storm did you a big favor,” he’s saying. “Washed out most of the inroads, and public works is just as broke as the sheriff’s office. Cleanup’s gonna be real damn slow.”

“So what—you’re saying we’re safe?” Rob says from his spot by the window.

“Safe-ish,” Zayn says. “Only your real all-terrain badasses gonna bushwhack their way out here to try and cap you.”

“That’s...reassuring.”

Maren chuckles, eyes flicking to mine as she wipes a crumb from her lip. I let the corner of my mouth twitch up, just a little. She sees it. Looks pleased.

“Here.” Scarlet comes back from wherever he went and motions for Zayn, who straightens up.

“For you,” Will says, lifting a nondescript, bargain-bin cell phone. “One of our burners. Preprogrammed with a bunch of burner numbers of ours, and vice versa. We’ll only call you if we have to, but—”

So that’ll beneverfor me,I think. Zayn just nods. “Cool. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Will gives him a Boy Scout salute and sinks into one of the oversized armchairs.

Tuck looks up. “You still have access to the backend of things? Or did they cut you off entirely?”

“Nah, it’s all there, so much as it’s useful,” Zayn replies. “I figure the sheriff’s not worried about anyone logging in to check dispatch records or whatever unless they’re being paid. But yeah, I can still see it.”

Will tips his head. “What’s going on with Wheatley, by the way? You seen him since Guy’s little firework finale?”

I lean forward a little. That, I’m actually interested in.

Zayn’s face goes serious. “Laying low, pretty much. Letting the murder-suicide story play out.”

Tuck frowns. “People actually believe that?”

“Easier to swallow than shapeshifters,” I mutter. Tuck considers, then nods in agreement.

“It does kinda fit, the way they’re telling it,” Zayn goes on. “The brilliant legal mind, pushed too far. Missing fiancée, then some mommy issues? Adds up.”

Maren swallows a bite, then mutters, “Sure does. That lady was...weird.”

Her ankle nudges against mine as she shifts in her seat.

Deliberate.

I glance over, but she’s avoiding my eyes.

On purpose.

Oh, it’s like that, is it?I think.Two can play at that game.

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