Page 60 of Touched

“Okay, okay,” Trevor stammers, holding his hands in front of himself and backing away, though he’s smirking. “No need to be hostile about it, Callum.”

I narrow my eyes at Trevor, who seems entirely too pleased with himself.

Was he goading me on purpose?

Paying no mind to my annoyance, he pivots toward the door.

A thought suddenly strikes me, recalling Grams's words about Trevor bringing supplies. I rise from my chair and cast a glance out the window.

When did the sun come up to rest directly above the cabin?

It’s at least noon. No wonder I’m freaking starving.

Shaking my head, I try to dispel the tangled thoughts clouding my mind. My eyes flit to the book one last time before I close them, centering my thoughts and taking a break. I roll my neck from side to side, hearing a gratifying pop that releases some of the coiled tension.

Damn, I’m exhausted. I’ll have to rest soon. But not now… there’s far too much left to do.

Standing, I tiredly say, “Let me help you with the supplies, Trevor. I hope you brought food. I could eat a horse.”

He laughs, “No horses. But I did bring you food. Stop being lazy and come help bring it in.”

I grumble, “I’ve got your fucking lazy,” but follow him out the door.

To my surprise, the little dude has all the supplies stacked on the porch, including the gas cans and other stuff I left in my flat-bottomed boat.

“How the hell did you get all this here?” I grip the back of my neck, squeezing it. The start of a headache is forming behind my eyes.

“I’m a troll.” He laughs. “I’m small, but stronger than I look.”

My eyes narrow on him. “Is there anything in that book about trolls?”

Trevor chuckles. “You wish, Callum.”

I don’t respond, my eyes scanning the surrounding swamp. Our lands are deep in the Barataria Preserve, a part of the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve. It’s virtually untouched by man.

However, the land my family owns has always been like a different world to me. It’s far more dangerous than civilization. The part the public knows about is tame, a virtual zoo by comparison. I’m seeing this swamp, this world, through a new perspective. One where fantasy is fucking reality.

Grams said our land is warded. Safe. But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s festering. A coiling knot in the pit of my stomach. The Trahan brothers tracked me and Aeris to my apartment despite us flying there. I glance down at the troll. “Trevor, can the Rougarou track my scent here?”

Trevor shifts from foot to foot. “They can’t get past the wards.”

“That’s not what I asked. Can they track my scent here?” I clench my fists at my sides in frustration from his evasion.

Hell, can they track Aeris to Laric?

I don’t voice that question. I can’t handle the answer when I can’t be there to protect her.

“Trevor!” My voice wobbles with my barely-restrained temper.

He sighs and looks up at me. His eyes lock on mine. “Yes, but the Rougarou can’t get through the wards.”

My thoughts drift back to the failed bust. They may not be able to get to me, but they can get to the tourists, and from what I know of the Trahan brothers, they have no problem killing innocent humans.

“Do you think you can get the public part of this park closed down for a while?” I ask.

He wears a shit-eating grin before I even finish my question. “Already done.”

I frown down at the little dude.

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