Page 73 of Master Wolf

“Here,” Drew said, nudging at the glass. “I’ve brought you a looking glass. Do you need anything else?”

Wynne said nothing, only lowered his head and stared into the mirror. It was dark now, and the candles in the sconces on the wall gave out only a little feeble light. The kitchen was so gloomy, there was nothing to see in the glass—it reflected only shadows and darkness.

Yet Drew could have sworn, Wynne saw something there—the way his eyes shifted, as though he was reading something…

“Give me your hand,” Wynne said suddenly, grasping blindly for Drew’s fingers where they rested on the wooden table. A shiver ran through Drew at the touch of Wynne’s suddenly icy flesh, but he did not resist, letting Wynne pull his hand over the mirror.

“I need—to cut—” Wynne gritted out.

“What?”

“Need blood,” Wynne said, digging in his pocket, before pulling out a small pocketknife, which he deftly opened with one hand.

“Wait—” Drew said, pulling back, but it was too late, Wynne had already nicked his thumb with the blade and now he was kneading the fleshy pad, making fat red drops splat on the black, shining surface of the mirror.

“What are you doing?” Drew croaked.

“Need a conductor,” Wynne muttered. “A connection to Lindsay.”

Drew’s heart thudded. “Lindsay?” he said sharply, “I thought this was about Alys.”

Wynne shook his head and, dropping Drew’s hand, began to smear the blood over the surface of the mirror before placing his own two hands flat on the glass, palm down.

“Three wolves,” he whispered to his own smeared reflection. “Master of his body, master of his will, master of his heart.” He closed his eyes and lifted his head, as though listening to some faraway sound.

Drew watched him, his heart racing, for what felt like long minutes. And then, quite suddenly, Wynne’s eyes flew open.

Drew jerked back. Wynne’s eyes were black, and not because his pupils were enlarged—the whole of each iris was fully black and the blackness was bleeding into the whites, through tiny threads like blood vessels. His eyes were a hard, obsidian black, as reflective as the mirror his palms were pressed against through the sticky film of Drew’s blood.

“He is coming,” Wynne said. “He is very close.”

“Who?” Drew demanded, though he very much feared he already knew.

“Lindsay’s master,” Wynne said. “Duncan MacCormaic.”

“What? He is on his way toEdinburgh?” Drew demanded.

Wynne’s black-silver eyes glittered. “He is there now,” he said. “He is in the New Town, walking towards Albany Street. I see him, in his shiny boots and tall black hat.” He shook his head, eyes squeezed tight shut. “He is carrying a case. In the case is a box. In the box is a collar. It is silver. It is for Lindsay’s neck. He has gloves to wear when he touches it.”

“Christ,” Drew hissed, scrambling to his feet. “God damn it all.” He began to tear off his coat.

Just then, Marguerite appeared in the kitchen, sleek and white. She stopped beside Wynne for moment, watching him with intelligent canine eyes, then turned to observe Drew undressing. She regarded his industrious movements for a moment, then lay down to shift. She was tired now and consequently her transformation was rather slower than the dramatic mid-leap shift she had performed earlier. However, by the time Drew was down to his drawers, she was done, rising smoothly to her feet as a naked woman again.

She went to Wynne first. His head was still bent over the mirror, his hands still flat on the glass. Carefully she moved each hand aside and pushed the mirror away, out of arm’s reach, breaking the connection. Urging his chin up, she smacked his left cheek lightly.

“Wake up,” she urged. “Wynne my love, you must wake.”

Wynne made a vague protesting sound and she smacked him lightly again, sparing an angry glance for Drew. “You should not have let him scry—it is dangerous. Look at the state of him!”

“I didn’t know,” Drew replied shortly. “Anyway, he gave me no choice in matter.”

“Drew, you—”

“Listen,” he interrupted, “I must go to Lindsay now. You will have to deal with Wynne and Alys alone.”

Marguerite paled. “Why? What did Wynne see?”

“Duncan,” Drew said tightly. “Wynne said he is very close to Lindsay. I am going to shift and run back to town now. There is no time to waste.”