Page 29 of Fae Devoted (Fae Touched #3)

J ohnnie set down the blow dryer and hurriedly pulled on her coral and white striped top, tugging her damp hair from its collar before answering her ringing phone.

“Mr. Williamson, what can I do for you?” she asked, recognizing the ID of her latest client.

“Miss Long, I’m sorry to have to bother you, but Blake asked if he could talk to you again about his new school,” he said, obviously frazzled.

“It’s no bother. Put him on.” Johnnie pinned the phone between her shoulder and cheek, freeing her hands to tug on her fuchsia jeans.

“Miss Johnnie?” The eight-year-old pup came on the line, voice small and hesitant.

“Blake,” she said, tone upbeat. “Your sire mentioned you were a little worried about starting class tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She heard him sniff as though fighting tears. “What if…what if the other kids don’t like me?”

“Oh, Blake, you’re gonna make lots of new friends. Your classmates will love you. How could they not?” she said, heart breaking for the young Ferwyn. “Did you go on the pack’s pup run like I suggested?”

“No.

“Why not?” she asked gently.

“I’m too big…and scary.” Johnnie had to strain to hear him.

The pup’s wolf was a beautiful beast, and he’d tested sky-high on the dominance scale during his first shift. Blake was a natural born Alpha.

“Big and strong , just like Beta Tucker.”

“You think my wolf will be like the beta’s?” The wonderment in his voice made Johnnie smile.

“I bet you’ll be even bigger than his gray someday.” Not a lie, Blake’s wolf was enormous for his age.

“No way,” he yelled into the phone, and she winced, pulling it away from her ear. “Dad, Miss Johnnie said I’m gonna be huge and powerful like Beta Tucker. Maybe huger! ”

She heard Mr. Williamson agree with his son before Blake shouted, “I’m gonna be a lieutenant in the Guard too and protect the Clan when I grow up.”

Johnnie couldn’t help but laugh at his exuberance. She loved the job of helping Fae Touched families adjust to new home environments, especially when it involved children. But she wished the motivation behind the Williamson family’s move to Memphis had been different.

Ferwyns didn’t like change under normal circumstances, and Blake’s family were forced to transfer to Memphis through no fault of their own.

The town’s Untouched population was harassing their small Kentucky pack daily, and Samuel decided to disperse the isolated shifter community before racial tension escalated into violence.

For the sake of the pups and peace, the príoh assigned its members to more prominent and secure Fae Touched communities across the ESC Region.

“Thank you, Miss Long. He’s been worried about frightening the few witchlings at his school when he accidentally converts or intimidating his smaller clanmates with his size,” Mr. Williamson said, pulling Johnnie from her morose thoughts.

“Blake has extraordinary control for a second-grader, but every once in a while, he slips into wolf form.”

“He’s still a pup,” she said, adding a cheeriness she no longer felt.

“And the teachers are trained to deal with any mishaps. But I wouldn’t worry too much.

I have no doubt Blake’s protective nature won’t permit him to hurt his weaker classmates.

” A female in the background added her gratitude to her mate’s.

“Tell your Ca’anam that she is very welcome, and please feel free to call me if you need anything else. ”

Johnnie hung up, frowning at her reflection while she plaited her hair into a single braid. Between the Knights of Humanity’s hatred, an indifferent American government, and a freakin’ Elven Lord’s machinations, she wondered what kind of world the children—and someday her pups—would inherit?

It didn’t dawn on her until she finished applying her mascara that the cabin was far too quiet.

Crap.

Tossing her makeup into her cosmetic bag, she wrenched the door open, practically ran into the kitchen, and slid to a halt. Dylan was at the stove flipping pancakes while Jacob sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee. They both turned at her abrupt entrance.

“Mornin’,” Dylan greeted, twirling the spatula with his trademark crooked half-grin.

“Morning.” She blushed to her roots, her toes curling on the cold wooden floor. In her rush to get to Jacob, she’d forgotten her shoes.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat.” Not trusting the serene scene in front of her, Johnnie inhaled. Her sensitive nose detected the combined scents of Ferwyn pine, vanilla, buttermilk, smoked hickory, and a fleeting hint of male aggression. Her appetite waned. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be, princess?”

“No reason, I guess.” Johnnie took the seat catty-corner from Jacob, the inside of her cheek pinched between her teeth.

“Coffee?” Dylan reached into the microwave and withdrew a tall, skinny mug.

“I’d love…some,” Johnnie finished on a soft croak, spotting the stainless-steel spoon bent into a “U” lying in the center of the table near the sugar bowl. She picked up the twisted utensil and gaped at Jacob, eyebrows raised in question. He shrugged and took another drink of his coffee.

Everything seemed fine last night, awkward but fine.

Or mostly fine. Jacob was a bit touchy when it came to Dylan, but that was normal for any male in the throes of the Mating Dance.

Yet it was apparent something happened while she was in the shower, but neither stubborn shifter seemed inclined to fill her in on the details.

“I made your favorite.” Dylan set what appeared to be a vanilla latte topped with milk foam in front of her. “Or tried to.”

“You remembered?” She laid the twisted metal spoon back on the linoleum tabletop.

“I remember everything.” Dylan’s boyish smile disappeared, focus turning inward. His pensive mood vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he flashed her the same lethal grin that drove all the single females crazy in college. Johnnie included. “Pancakes?”

“Um…yes, sure.” She blew on her latte, peering at Jacob through lowered eyelashes. He seemed…calm.

“Bacon?”

“Please.”

Dylan left, then quickly returned with three plates laden with food. He set one dish in front of the empty seat across from her and the other two near Jacob.

“Any news on the twins?” Jacob pushed the highest piled plate to Johnnie, then waited for her to start eating before digging into his own food.

“What twins?” she asked, attention ping-ponging between Jacob and Dylan as the younger shifter dipped his chin in a show of respect…or gratitude. For what, Johnnie didn’t know.

“Patrick and Peter Willow, Clan Remington, Horton Pack, out of Ohio,” Dylan said, sitting and choosing a pancake from his stack. He smeared it with butter, layered it with ham and bacon, then folded it like a taco.

The familiar habit reminded Johnnie of pleasant mornings spent with Dylan at their favorite college diner before everything fell apart. Memories best forgotten.

“Patrick lost his truemate and went Glaofin a decade ago. He chose the Wilderness State Park as his final hunting grounds.” Jacob scraped his plate clean and reached for his coffee. “His unmated twin joined him last fall.”

“Did you know the Willows, Jacob?” Johnnie nibbled on a thick slice of bacon.

He shook his head. As Clan Walker’s beta, Jacob crossed regional borders for political reasons more often than the overwhelming majority of shifters, but those trips were short, infrequent, and mainly confined to board rooms.

“I spoke with Peter the day he converted.” Dylan tore off a large chunk of rolled flapjack, chewed, and swallowed.

“And did they find each other?” she asked after taking a taste of her homemade latte. It was delicious.

Although the Glaofin was touted as a natural progression for a Ferwyn male, the motivating factors behind the decision to leave Clan life forever were always bittersweet. The notion that the siblings wouldn’t have to spend their last days alone was a comforting thought.

“Yes, they did.” Dylan’s eyes went soft on her, then anger flared in the brown depths, and his voice turned hard. “But I haven’t seen either of the twins in over two weeks.”

“No one has.” Jacob pushed his empty plate aside.

“Aren’t there a lot of tourists in this area? Maybe they ventured deeper into the forest to avoid them for a while?” Johnnie slid her half-eaten breakfast to Jacob.

“There hadn’t been a confirmed sighting of Patrick in the park by anyone other than Alpha Fowler until Peter joined him last year.

” A shifter in wolf form couldn’t be mistaken for the ordinary gray wolves found in the UP, even by humans.

“Since then, I’ve caught glimpses of the siblings every few days.

I think Peter still misses pack life and likes being around other shifters. ”

“What do you think happened to them?” Johnnie poured more syrup onto the leftover pancakes she’d given to Jacob, smiling to herself when he took a large forkful and dredged it through the pool of sweetened maple.

“The song?” Jacob asked between bites, referring to the doleful howls of a grieving Ferwyn.

“I would have heard it if one of them died and left the other behind.” Dylan stood, taking his and Jacob’s original empty plates from the table and placing them in the sink. “Either they’ve moved on, which I still believe is unlikely, or they’ve been killed.”

“You think they’re both dead?” Johnnie asked in shock.

The odds of Ferwyn siblings dying together were minuscule outside of a battle or murder.

“No, the brothers would have smelled a human hunter traipsing through the woods from a mile away. Maybe they did leave the area.” She nodded.

“Yes, that has to be it. They can’t possibly both be…

.gone. They probably wanted more solitude than they could get with all the campers and hikers in the park and moved farther north.

It’s much less populated in the UP. Or maybe—”

“Johnnie,” Dylan started but was stopped short by Tucker gently tugging on the tail of her braid.