Page 2 of Lightning and Claws

There. Lie averted. Now to hope the potential crisis had been, too.

“Do you know anyone there?”

“No one I’ve been formally introduced to, but I’ve been in communications with several of the Comet Lake councilmembers for the past few years now, and I believe this is the right move for us. A new beginning. One where you can enroll in school and never have to worry about leaving the friends you make. If we can find a place, I’d love to get us something with a yard this time so I can build you a swing set and something to climb on. Maybe we can grow a few things too.

“You murdered the cactus.”

“It wasn’t murder,” Logan protested. “I just overwatered it.”

“Dad, it was a cactus. The point was to get something that wouldn’t die if you forgot to water it the way you did with the rest of the plants.”

“I am aware, pup. I guess I just felt guilty about all the ones who shriveled up because I forgot about them.”

“Maybe we should stick to getting our vegetables from the farmer’s market, so we don’t starve,” Wren insisted.

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“This is so good,” Wren moaned. “Next time you should make them all steak.”

Logan didn’t have the heart to tell Wren that the reason there were only a handful of steak ones was because the price of meat had been so high that even on sale the beef was double what the ham cost. He’d choke down the rest of the ham so Wren could enjoy however much beef was left. Logan had cooked the meat in cast iron over an open flame and baked the bread in cast iron too. Surviving in the wilderness was as familiar to him as pack life was, but it was no way to raise a pup, especially not after the hard start Wren had been given.

Driving through the Cascades at night had his reflexes on edge, so Logan was grateful when Wren curled back up in their nest of blankets with their favorite stuffy, Quackers, a one-eyed lavender duck that Logan won for them at a carnival. The carny had offered to replace it with one with two eyes, but Wren had clutched that duck to their chest, set their jaw, and shook their head no, face turning red like they were building up to a mighty screech.

They’d slept with Quackers every night since then and stubbornly refused a rather motherly wolf’s offer to add a second eye to their beloved stuffed animal. As far as Wren was concerned, Quackers was perfect just the way he was, and woe be to anyone who tried to change him.

Heavy metal music on the radio, low to make sure it didn’t disturb Wren’s sleep, and the slim energy drinks Logan kept in the center console was what kept him rolling through the mountains. He needed Brooks to make good on the promises he’d made. Logan just hadn’t been able to tell the man when to expect them, not after his phone had been tampered with.

Piss poor lack of judgement, putting himself in a position where someone was able to get their hands on it. Logan smashed, then burned the fucking thing in the campfire until there was nothing but twisted, melted wreckage. Unfortunately, that meant he was going in blind, with no clue what Comet Lake security protocols were about entering pack grounds without giving all the necessary information required to pass into the territory.

Hoping for the best was hard when he’d spent a lifetime being disappointed, but there was nothing to do but hope his explanation of why he was on their grounds unannounced would be enough to get someone to contact Brooks for him.

Losing a good radio station sucked, especially when the programming was already frustratingly lacking at this time of night. Easy listening was too mellow, he’d pass the fuck out behind the wheel. Country set his nerves on edge, there was something about it that had never resonated. Classic rock would be ideal if there were no more metal stations to be found. Talk radio would not cut it, he’d either grow irritated with the topics or start nodding off.

At least this stretch of road was straight.

Yes.

Grunge, but on the heavier side. This would work for as long as he was in range of the signal. Logan snagged a ham sandwich and devoured it in less than six bites, washed it down with another energy drink, and wished like hell he’d had enough cash to grab more steaks, because the pup was right, those ham sandwiches were dry and boring as fuck.

He’d known the risks when he opened that bank account and sunk most of his savings, aside from his emergency cash, in it so he’d have the funds to set up a proper home for him and Wren. He should have been more vigilant.

Logan only dared to pull out the maximum allowed at the ATM before leaving pack grounds. Withdrawing more at the different places they’d stopped for fuel would have meant risking the card being flagged, or worse, his trail being followed. Arranging a bank transfer once he was settled was his best bet now.

Maybe it was time to think about going old school again and keeping his cash in a lockbox, so it was always on hand. Lights blinded him as something large came barreling around the curve, half in his lane and blaring the horn like Logan was the one at fault.

Wren screamed, scaring Logan worse than he already was.

Fuckin’ asshole.

The Ford’s wheels hit the ruts along the edge of the road. For a moment Logan was certain he was going to fuck up his paint job scraping against the guardrail before he was able to get the car back on the road again.

His pup was sobbing, but there was no shoulder here, and no way Logan dared stop in the middle of the road and try to soothe Wren at the risk of them getting rear-ended.

“It’s okay, buddy, it was just a truck.”

“Stupid butthead!”

“Yeah, in this case, I’ll let you have that one,” Logan said. “I’m sorry it woke you up. Everything’s okay, though, I promise, so go back to sleep now, we only have a hundred and thirty more miles to go.”