Page 49 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LAINA
The pen thudded onto the stack of papers as I grabbed my keys and raincoat. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to escape. Abagail. Gone. Pregnant. Dad always said emergencies didn’t leave room for hesitation, and he was right.
I stuffed my medical bag with basics I might need for a pregnant animal, including pain relievers suitable for snugglethorns. The paperwork related to selling the clinic would wait.
Bertha’s engine roared to life, her windshield wipers beating back sheets of rain. I pulled out of my driveway and pushed her fast, though I took care on the slick roads.
A few weeks ago, I would’ve asked more questions. Weighed whether this constituted a true emergency or if it could wait until morning. I would’ve finished reviewing the papers, filed them neatly, and maybe even made myself a cup of tea before heading out.
But now I was racing through the rain without a second thought, the papers scattered across my kitchen table.
The headlights caught the rescue league ahead, and through the downpour I saw Brovish standing beside it, soaked tothe skin. Sofia circled above his head, her tiny wings beating frantically against the rain, her body a glowing orange beacon.
I pulled up beside him and rolled down my window.
“Get in,” I called out.
He folded himself into Bertha’s passenger seat, water streaming from his hair and clothes. Sofia zoomed in after him, shaking droplets from her wings and peeping wildly.
“How long have you been standing in the rain?” I asked, already guiding Bertha toward his cottage.
“Not long.”
His tusks caught his upper lip when he frowned, and water dripped from his eyelashes. His shirt clung to his chest, and his breathing came fast. He looked like he’d been pacing for hours.
“You’re soaked through,” I said. “You need dry clothes before we search or you’ll get sick.”
He stared at me, as if the concept of his own well-being hadn’t occurred to him. “But Abagail?—”
“Will be found faster if you’re not hypothermic. Do you have a raincoat?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re stopping at your cabin first and you’re going to change.”
I parked in front of his cottage, and he was out the door and running before I’d unbuckled, water flying from his hair. I followed at a slower pace, pulling my hood over my head against the downpour.
His cabin door stood open, and I stepped inside, closing it against the weather. Sofia perched on the back of his sofa, scraping her tiny claws across the fabric and shooting tiny puffs of smoke into the air.
“I’ll be less than one minute,” Brovish called through the cracked open bedroom door.
I stood in his living room, water pooling beneath my boots. The fire he’d lit this morning in his woodstove had burned down to embers, but I added a few thinner pieces of wood, topping it off with larger cuts to keep it going. When we returned, we’d be grateful for its warmth.
He emerged wearing dry clothes, a heavy raincoat in his hands, and a worried frown that made my skin feel too tight to hold everything in.
“I searched for an hour before calling you,” he said, shrugging into the coat. “I found traces of blue wool on the eastern perimeter, heading into the deep woods, but I couldn’t pick up a trail. With two of us, we can expand our search in that area. I think she’s still on the property.”
“When did you last see her?”
“During our morning check. The gate was secure then.”
He grabbed a large pack from beside the door and opened it, showing me the contents. Flashlights, rope, emergency blankets, a first aid kit, water bottles.
“You’re prepared,” I said, impressed despite my worry.
“I wasn’t prepared enough to keep her safe.” His jaw tightened. “This is my failure. In the kingdom, this brings shame to a caretaker.”
