Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 84: Lyre: Irritating Company

LYRE

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel, counting each breath the oversized wolf takes from the passenger seat.

Inhale. Exhale. Each one sounds like someone slowly deflating a balloon made of sandpaper. If I weren’t tracking the faint magical signature pulsing at the edge of my awareness, I might conjure a plastic bag just to get some peace.

"So where exactly are we headed?" Jack-Eye asks, his voice carrying the forced politeness people use when they think you’re being unreasonable.

The pulsing grows stronger, moving toward the eastern edge of the city. They’re still on the move.

"I told you," I snap, taking a hard left as my tires squeal, "I don’t know yet."

"Not to be difficult, but that’s hard to believe." He braces one hand against the dashboard. "You’re obviously driving somewhere."

I narrow my eyes at the road ahead, the thread of magic pulling me forward. Tracking magic is a constant annoyance, like a fish hook caught under my ribs. "If you don’t shut your face in the next five seconds, I’m pulling over and kicking you to the curb."

The threat buys me approximately twenty seconds of blessed silence before he opens his mouth again.

"You’re a strange woman, you know that?"

My lips curl into something too sharp to be called a smile. "Is the big, handsome wolf upset because he found a woman who doesn’t fall for his charms at first sight?" I take another turn without signaling, just to watch him grab for the handle above the window.

His mouth quirks into an insufferable grin; I can see it out of the corner of my eye. "At least I know you think I’m handsome."

Blech.

Not only is he way too young for me, his conceit is nauseating. Playboys have never been my thing.

"Your ego is showing. Might want to tuck it back in before someone steps on it."

Jack-Eye chuckles. "That’s the best comeback you’ve got?"

"I save my good material for people who matter," I mutter, ignoring how his eyebrows shoot up. "Right now I’m busy trying to find your king’s missing girlfriend before someone drains her for parts. Or something."

Though, if my suspicions are right...

The pulsing changes direction slightly, and I make a sharp right turn.

"Do you always drive like you’re stealing the car?" he asks, his knuckles white where he grips the seat. Good to know even a wolf fears car accidents.

I don’t. But he should.

"Only when I’m stuck with backseat drivers." I tap the brakes just to make him lurch forward. "If my driving bothers you so much, you’re welcome to get out and follow Caine’s car."

"And miss this stimulating conversation? Never."

The fishhook tug feels like it’s trying to yank an entire rib out. We’re close.

I slow down, eyes scanning the street ahead. The strip mall on our left houses a pizza joint with gaudy neon signs, a laundromat, and what appears to be a vape shop with blacked-out windows.

Tempting. It isn’t like I’ll ever have to worry about cancer, and the flavored ones are quite delicious. Birthday cake in a puff? Yes, please.

"Hold on," I murmur, pulling into a parking spot.

Jack-Eye leans forward. "Are we here?"

"No. I just wanted a smoke break," I say, deadpan.

He stares at me, like he’s considering actually believing my words. How cute.

I squint through my windshield, rolling the window down just a little, enough to let the air in. The taste of mixed energies washes over me—human mostly, stale and ordinary. But there, moving among them, a bright silver thread of something else. Something other.

My tongue slides over my teeth, a little sharper than usual as the urge to hunt rises. The tugging has ceased, leaving only the faintest vibration. "Whoever took Grace might be here," I say, keeping my voice low. "Or at least, someone connected to them."

Jack-Eye tenses beside me, and I can practically feel the predator rising to the surface of his skin. His hand drops to his waistband, where I know he’s carrying at least one knife.

"Easy, big bad," I say, placing a restrictive hand on his arm. He’s warm and surprisingly solid. Lycans have always been a dense breed, though.

In muscle, not brain.

Though... maybe both is more accurate.

"You don’t know what we’re dealing with. If you go charging in teeth bared, we might spook him and lose our only lead."

His jaw clenches, but he nods. "What’s the plan, then?"

"I track the signature, figure out who’s carrying it. You stay in the car until I signal."

He barks a laugh. "Not happening."

"Wasn’t asking permission," I say, already reaching for the door handle.

"Caine would have my head if I let you walk in there alone."

"Caine’s not my alpha." I turn to face him fully, letting my glamour slip just enough for him to see what lurks behind my human facade; my slitted eyes are usually enough to get the point across. "And neither are you."

To his credit, Jack-Eye doesn’t flinch, though his nostrils flare slightly. "Impressive party trick. Still coming with you."

I consider turning him into something small and warty for about three seconds, but decide it’s not worth the energy expenditure.

"Fine. But no wolfing out, no threatening anyone, and if I tell you to back off, you back the hell off. Understood?"

He mimes zipping his lips, which might be more convincing if his canines weren’t slightly more prominent now.

The bell above the pizza shop door jingles, and both our heads swivel toward the sound. A young man exits, balancing three large pizza boxes in his arms. His hoodie’s pulled low over his face, but there’s something in his movements—careful, deliberate, constantly scanning. It sets off alarm bells.

Well, that, and the energy radiating off him.

"That’s him," I whisper, reaching for the door.

Jack-Eye’s hand locks around my wrist, surprisingly gentle for someone who could probably crush my bones without trying.

"Wait. Let’s see where he goes. If he leads us back to where they’re keeping Grace—"

"Since when are you the reasonable one?" I mutter, but sink back into my seat.

I sniff discreetly at the air, but there’s no hint of Grace’s scent. Maybe I’m wrong.

The man slides the pizzas into the back of a battered Honda Civic, then climbs into the driver’s seat. As the engine starts, I turn the key in my own ignition and pull out of the parking space, leaving just enough distance between us and the Civic ahead.

The energy signature pulses steadily now, like a beacon drawing me forward. If it leads us to Grace, we might actually have a chance of getting her back before Caine tears this entire city apart looking for her.