Page 77 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Beats me. So…I guess I’ll leave you to it? Are you sure your pilot’s coming back?”
“He has to, I stole the keys to his airplane.”
Sure. Totally normal. People do that every day. Yep.“Oh. Well, if you have any questions, I’ll be just down the road in the farmhouse next to the big willow.”
“Thanks!”
“And you’re welcome to bring any other buyers out here, too.”
“Thanks!”
“Okay, well. Bye.”
Wendy went back the same way she came and couldn’t shake the idea that there was more going on than she knew. Not just because of the vague-yet-specific weirdo; she feltwatched. Had felt like that all week, to tell the truth, and was it any wonder? Part of her wanted to go back and talk to blondie some more, but there was a more urgent voice in the bottom of her brain that was telling her to get gone in a hurry. One she obeyed. And the closer to the house she got, the fainter that warning voice got. Half an hour later, when she ventured a look outside, the plane was gone.
Chapter 31
“I know I was there and saw the whole thing, but will you please tell the tale of Magnus Berne’s amoebic dysentery again?”
“We’re never speaking of it again,” Berne commanded. “Couldna think of something less graphic, lass?”
“That’s not what you brought me along for. You brought me along to be a terrible lookout. Which I nailed, FYI.”
The crash site was five minutes behind them; once the farmer had left, Oz and Berne wasted no time shifting back and taking off.
“And before I forget, here.” Oz stuck his hand out.
“What?”
“It’s my ‘other right’ forepaw.” He wiggled his wrist back and forth. “Good as new. But you don’t have to look for excuses to hold my hand. You can hold it whenever you want.”
“Sure, Oz. Because that was at the forefront of my mind all this time. Not the crash or running interference with a random farmer or Sally or her dad who’s maybe not dead…it was all about your other right.”
“As long as we’re clear.”
“I have to hand it to you, lass, y’kept your cool.”
“Nonsensical babbling is an underrated camouflage technique.”
“Ha! Well put.”
“Not just that,” Berne insisted. “When you got a look at my other self. Weren’t you surprised at all?”
“Nope. Don’t even try,” Oz advised. “She doesn’t surprise. She lives in a constant zone of not-surprised. And if she everissurprised, she’d die before showing it. I honestly believe that. She. Would. Die.”
“Jesus, Oz. Dial it back.”
Berne let out a snort. “Is that how it is, Lila? Or was it something else? Oz here didn’t warn you ahead of time?”
“Berne.” It was so rare to hear Oz use such a sharp tone, she almost did a double-take. “I’m not an outer. Your other self is your own business.”
Berne seemed a little taken aback, too. It didn’t help that they were all using raised voices; the Cessna’s engine, while not deafening, necessitated speaking louder than normal. “All right, lad, I meant no offense. I was just wonderin’.”
So is it a personal choice kind of thing? Who a Shifter tells about their true nature is generally frowned upon but ultimately up to the individual? Note to self: “Outing” is a major faux pas.
Regardless, time to straighten Berne out. “You’re the one who told me.”
“Wi’ respect, I did no such thing.”
