Page 13 of Outside the Veil (Endangered Fae #1)

“You’re a very handsome specimen.” Diego patted his shoulder. Such soft, thick fur, he wanted to bury his face in it. “Give me a few minutes. I need coffee. And a shower.”

Dog-Finn leaped from the bed. “Can I offer any assistance?”

Anyone else Diego would have told yes. “You can start the coffee while I get cleaned up. Or take the luggage down to the truck.” With Finn, though, he could imagine a few dozen ways such simple things might become disasters of titanic proportions.

“No, thank you. Relax for a few minutes. Grab yourself some breakfast.”

“My stomach’s too full of flutters.”

So instead, Finn danced around him, getting underfoot while he tried to get ready. The headbutt against his knees while he shaved hit the limit of his endurance.

“Go find your collar, please,” he suggested to gain a few moments’ peace.

Finn loped off and returned with the nylon and plastic collar between his teeth.

“Shh, you’ll wake Tia Carmen.” Diego pointed to the tail thudding against the hardwood.

Unintelligible mumbles issued from around the collar. The tail stopped but the tags jangled when Finn shook his head. One tag had been purchased at a pet store and engraved— Finn—please return to Diego Sandoval , with his cell number. The other was Finn’s rabies vaccination.

Diego’s stomach had plummeted when he’d found the requirements for transporting pets across the Canadian border.

Dogs were permitted, but not without documentation of their rabies shots.

He couldn’t ask Finn to endure the needle and there was no way to know what horrible reaction his body might have to the vaccine.

In a bit of underhandedness that still had him losing sleep, Diego had picked up a stray to use as a proxy.

The dog got his vaccination, Diego got the papers he needed for Finn, and Tia Carmen took the stray to one of the no-kill shelters.

For all her brave words about getting Finn out of the city, she had cried over him the night before, soothing her own anxieties by stuffing him full of food.

She had pulled Finn’s head down to hers when they’d said goodnight at her door and whispered in his ear.

Diego could have sworn he’d caught the words, “Take good care of him.”

Now Diego hesitated at his own door, mentally checking things off.

Luggage. Water. Laptop. Keys. Documents.

Coffee pot was off. Dishes washed. Why did he have this knot the size of a basketball in his stomach?

He shivered, tried to shake the feeling of something lurking over his shoulder and locked the door.

“Diego, I don’t feel well at all.”

Not even ten miles outside the city. Damn.

“You want to lie down in the back?”

“I want to get out of this accursed box and be sick somewhere.”

The tires shrieked as Diego wrestled the truck to a stop on the shoulder. He raced around to Finn’s side and lifted him down, narrowly sidestepping what Finn could no longer hold in his stomach.

“My apologies,” Finn murmured when he finished.

“You sure you can do this?”

“Yes. I must. Perhaps if we had something to muffle the iron’s effects?”

“Such as?”

“A silver shield would be best.”

“I’m afraid I left all the arms and armor at home. What else?”

“Dragon skin? Were-pelt? Silk?”

“That last one we can manage.” Diego slid back the truck bed’s cover and retrieved his silk bathrobe from the suitcase.

He’d only packed the thing because it took up less room than terrycloth.

The scarlet and gold threads sparked in the streetlight when he spread the cloth on the back seat.

What an odd fate for Mitch’s last Christmas present.

Finn settled with a huff and curled up with his tail over his nose. Only one paw protruded when Diego finished covering him with the rest of the robe.

“Better?”

“Yes, much. Are we close yet?”

Diego resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I warned you we’d have to drive all day.”

“I had hoped you were exaggerating.”

Five hours later, at a rest area outside Portland, Diego pulled over again. Finn had started to wheeze.

“We’re about halfway there.” Diego clipped the leash on for propriety’s sake and carried Finn into the shade of the picnic area.

“Then why…have we…stopped?”

“Shh, don’t talk here. Someone might hear you.”

“Aren’t you…the storyteller?” Finn gasped. “You’d concoct…some explanation.”

Diego sat down in confusion next to his ‘dog’. “I’m not usually a liar, you know.”

“All storytellers…are liars. Part…of the craft.”

“But…” Diego considered while he stroked the thick ruff of fur around Finn’s neck. “Fiction isn’t lying. Everyone knows it’s imaginary. It’s not as if the writer’s being dishonest and misleading the reader.”

“Though it’s still not true.”

“Well…no, it’s not.”

“Honest lying.” Finn laid his head on Diego’s thigh. “I like that.”

“It’s not… Oh, never mind.”

A shadow fell across Diego’s legs. He glanced up, startled, to see a little girl, her hair a mass of unruly brown curls, staring intently at Finn. “My dad says your dog’s a wolf.”

“Melissa! That’s not what I said.” A burly man strode up behind her, a blush visible under his tan. “I’m sorry. Kids. You know.” He crouched down next to Finn. “What I said was he looks like a wolf-hybrid. Is he? I’ve had a couple come through the office. None as beautiful as this one.”

Diego let out a soft breath. “He didn’t exactly come with papers.”

“Ah. Stray? Rescued?”

“I spotted him in a bad spot and took him home.”

The man grinned. “Sorry. Don’t mean to pry. I’m a vet, can’t help asking sometimes.” He ruffled Finn’s ears. The feathered tail thumped the ground shamelessly. “He looks a little under the weather.”

“He’s, um, carsick,” Diego offered, certain that wouldn’t wash with a veterinarian.

The vet nodded. “Happens to lots of big dogs. Wait there a second for me, all right?” He went to his truck and returned with a bottle half the size of Diego’s palm. “Ginger root. No more than three drops to settle his stomach.”

“Thank you. Look, I can’t just take this from you—”

“Nah, forget it. Letting me take a look at your dog’s enough. I’ve never seen anything like him.”

Finn lifted his head to let out a short bark.

“He said thank you, too, Daddy,” the little girl said with a laugh.

“Probably so. You have far to go today?”

“About six more hours,” Diego answered. “Just outside Fundy National Park.”

“He may need another dose before then. You two be careful up there. Don’t let him get away from you—he’ll want to join his wild cousins.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Finn took the ginger without protest and settled back in his silk cocoon, his breathing quieter.

Midafternoon Thursday, only two cars idled ahead of Diego at the Canadian border crossing.

A short wait, but the patrol officers would be able to take their time.

Diego reminded himself that he had nothing to worry about.

He was transporting a dog, not drugs. What was the worst they could say?

“You sure that’s a dog, sir? Looks like an illegal immigrant pooka to me” seemed unlikely.

He handed over his passport and Finn’s vaccine certification and tried to still his thudding heart.

The border officer glanced at his papers, looked him over, disappeared into the booth a moment then returned without handing the documents back.

“Mind if I take a look in the truck bed, sir?”

“Not at all. Go right ahead.”

The officer slid the cover back, poked around for a few moments and closed it again. He sauntered back to Diego’s rolled-down window, tapping the passport against his palm. “What’s in the back seat, sir?”

Diego turned to look without thinking. “Oh. That’s my dog.”

“Your dog.”

“Yes. He doesn’t like the car, so he hides under there. Finn, could you stick your head out so the nice man can see you?”

Finn nosed the silk far enough aside to expose his head but instead of waving them on, the officer’s mouth drew down further. “Pull over to the side, please, sir.”

“Is there a problem, Officer?”

“Just pull over there, sir. We’ll be right with you.”

Oh, God, please, please let this be a random search. He parked the truck, turned off the ignition and sat paralyzed, both hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Diego?” A wet nose nuzzled his ear. “You’re going to throw yourself into a fit. Deep breath. Another. That’s my braveheart. If we’re in a bad spot, you must tell me what needs to be done.”

“Don’t do anything, Finn, please. You’re a dog. Act like a dog.”

Finn growled.

“A nice dog.”

Diego turned and let out a nervous laugh. Finn sat on the back seat, tongue lolling out, tail wagging, with the bathrobe still around his shoulders.

“Perfect.”

The border guard had brought reinforcements. Four uniformed men surrounded the truck.

“Step out of the car, sir. Hands on top of your head.”

Diego eased out as instructed, hoping his knees would hold him. “Officer, if there’s something I’ve done…”

“Anything on you I should know about, sir?” The officer ignored the question as he patted Diego down. “Weapons? Needles?”

“No. Look, I’ve…”

The officer pulled his pills and the bottle of ginger root out of Diego’s jacket pocket. “What’re these?”

“The prescription’s seizure medication. The other bottle the vet gave me for my dog.”

“Run that, Mark.” The first officer tossed both containers to a second, who disappeared inside the customs building.

“I… Excuse me. Please. I need those.” I did take one this morning. Didn’t I?

“All right, Mr. Sandoval. If that’s really your dog, call him out here.” The officer opened the back door.

Diego tried to whistle but his mouth was too dry. “Finn, come out here, boy. Out here by me.”

A scrabble of claws and a whimper told him Finn was trying, but the truck frame must have given him pause. After two more tries, he jumped out and landed in a heap on the concrete.

“Please, he’s sick. This is cruel.”

“Call him over.”