Our pace is slower than it was last night, Cole loping gently now so that the pups can keep up. Their tongues loll from their mouths, and they run eagerly through the desert, though it’s very clear that each of them is running on adrenaline alone. Their poor, starved little bodies – I can basicallyseetheir ribs through their fur.
And tired – we’re all tired. The boys, I think, are probably used to sleeping during the day, and the girls – like Cole and I – are running on perhaps three hours of sleep. Janine sags against me as we move, I think catching snippets of rest, and I can’t deny the surge of relief that passes through me when I begin to recognize the stretches of desert landscape that indicate that we’re close to camp.
When we come into sight of it, Cole barks again and all of the pups come to a stop, the boys turning in their lines to face him, the girls gathering around in a messy little hoard. Janine and I climb down from Cole’s shoulders and he shifts, looking over our little tiny troops. I pick Janine up in my arms again, holding her close, looking over all the little pups – unable to think anything except that they’re socuteand I just want tofeedthem –
Even the little boys who threatened to stab me earlier. I can’t help it – I just…feel very attached to them all already.
“All right,” Cole says, nodding to the pups. “I want everyone to remain in wolf form, and young ladies, I’d like you in two even lines on either side of the boys, please.”
Janine looks up at me. “What’s a young lady?” she whispers.
I laugh, tapping her on the nose and whispering thatsheis, quickly giving her an explanation that makes her smile.
When all the kids have lined up, Cole holds his hand out to me. I take it, and together we move to the front. “You ready for this?” he murmurs, glancing down at me.
I shrug, looking up at him. “I was born for this.”
Cole smiles, exhausted but terribly pleased with me, and together we walk into the camp with one little wolf girl in my arms and twenty-five pups following neatly behind. Tommy’s mouth falls open as he sees us approach. He quickly radios for backup, his voice hesitant as he tries to find words for what he sees.
Tommy’s shock repeats on every face we see peering out of tents as we march into camp.
And as I look around, I’m pleased to note that oneparticularface – crowned by a mane of white-blonde hair – is notably absent.
***
The morning passes incredibly fast. Dad stumbles out of his tent first, shock all over his face before he replaces it all with that stern, dutiful look that’s so familiar to me. And honestly, I almost think that I’ve gotten away with it before he catches me by the elbow, pulling me close, gentle but firm.
“We willtalk, daughter,” he says, murmuring in my ear. “After we get these children fed and clothed.”
“All right,” I say, nodding to him, accepting it – grateful, honestly, that our priorities are in the same spot. The next few hours slip by, the nurses and counselors all gleefully helping us to make the children feel at ease. Grace and Shayne immediately flip out and throw their whole hearts into the task, enthusiastically helping all the children wash their hands and faces while I run around, begging everyone to spare what clothes they can.
We check the children over for obvious wounds before all the little pups troop into the dining hall. My heart clenches to see them eagerly heading for the food wearing oversized sweatshirts and rolled-up scrubs, whatever we could find and make fit them.
By the time they’ve all eaten and are drooping over the table after a big breakfast that the cooks happily whipped up, I find myself drooping too. A yawn so wide it threatens to crack my jaw overtakes me as my father comes into the tent, leading – of all things – several guards with stacked mattresses between them.
“Go on, Nadia,” dad says, waving the guards forward. “We’ll get them down for a nap and keep an eye on them. You need to get cleaned up and rest yourself.”
“But –“ I sit straight, blinking hard against another yawn.
“Go,” dad says, quite solid, raising a brow at me. “The children do not need you to watch them sleep.”
“All right,” I murmur, glancing towards the door. I stand when I see Cole waiting for me there. I pause for a second, leaning close to my dad. “Keep your eye on the biggest boy,” I murmur, narrowing my eyes at Johnny, who is still glum and occasionally eyeing the door.
“We will,” dad says, nodding seriously to me and sending me on my way.
Cole holds his hand out for me as I approach, and I slip my palm against his without thinking about it, glancing back over my shoulder as we step out of the dining tent and head across camp. “I’m worried about Johnny,” I say.
“Yeah,” Cole says with a sigh. “He’s going to be trouble. But I can’t blame the kid – his whole life, he’s probably been the most dedicatedly loyal to the Children of Solace, and he’s probably been rewarded for it. This is hard for him.”
I frown up at Cole as we head into the nursing tent. “Do you think he’ll run?”
“I hope not,” he says, dropping my hand. I blink, suddenly blushing as I realize that I walked all the wayhereholding his damnhand.
What iswrongwith me?
I must be tired.
Cole smirks at me and pretends not to know precisely what I’m thinking. “I don’t think that Johnny will bolt alone without knowing where Slaken is. We’re especially pack-oriented as children. I want…” He hesitates for a second, his hands going to his hips as he looks again towards the entrance. “Honestly, I’d like to get Jude to talk to him – he knows more about the Children of Solace than I do. I think he’ll explain better than I can why it’s best for Johnny to give up his allegiances.”