Thom’s head jerked up, whipping toward the door as Matt burst into the forge, breathing hard from his slippery uphill run.
His eyes narrowed. “What the hell, Matt?”
“Hide that thing. I need you. Where’s Marin?”
Thom glanced down at the sketchpad on his knee, one brow arching warily. “What’s going on?”
“One of Daniel’s werewolves is here.”
Thom blinked, slamming his sketchbook shut and shoving it into its hiding place in a hollow behind Matt’s leather apron. “Was that the howl we heard?”
“Yeah, out toward M-45. Where’s Marin?”
“With Jay. They went across to the barrow.”
Matt shuddered visibly. The mass grave out by the ruins of the performing arts center still gave him the screaming willies, worse than any graveyard could. “Why?”
“He didn’t say, just that he felt like they needed to go out there. He had a look and I didn’t argue.” Thom yanked on his jacket. “Did you leave him with Thordin?”
“He asked me to bring him pants.”
“We’ll get him pants,” Thom snapped. “Did you leave him with Thordin?”
“Who the hell else could I have left him with?” Matt shook his head and spun on his heel, starting back down the hill at a jog. “There wasn’t anyone else to leave him with.”
“So you left a strange werewolf alone in with Thordin.”
“He’s not strange. We’ve met him.”
“Thordin hasn’t.”
Matt stopped, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. “I’m completely aware of that, Thom. I didn’t like the look in Thordin’s eye when I left, but it’s not like he was going to give me a vote.” He started moving again. “Phelan went down there. He should keep things under control.”
“This is Phelan we’re talking about.”
Matt grimaced. “Right. We’d better hurry.”
“Get the pants. I’ll follow the footprints.”
Matt swore and darted toward the tent where they kept their supplies.
This is interesting. We’ll see who is going to go ballistic first.
Thanks for the new post. Appreciate your talents very much.