Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 70: Caine: Strange Magic

CAINE

To the unobservant eye, the house is exactly as Elizabeth says. Her home.

But it doesn’t take much effort to scratch at the lie.

Devoid of personal effects, lacking the clutter everyone’s living space acquired. Every piece of silverware is accounted for. There are no scratches on any of the cookware. Even the closets are eerily empty.

The cleaning supplies located under the kitchen sink are all brand new. There’s no bag in the trash can, and the box of replacements is unopened.

No vacuum. No broom.

Everything you’d consider a daily necessity of life is missing. There are extra sheets in the linen closet and a small stack of towels, as if this is a guest house, not a home.

The fading light casts long shadows across the room. Fenris’s hackles raise from his position by the door. He’s been tense since we arrived.

Me, too.

My phone vibrates against my thigh. Another message.

The screen illuminates with a photo—Grace, pale and vulnerable against hospital sheets. Her blonde hair fans across the pillow, eyes closed, chest rising in shallow breaths. The rainbow-haired nuisance sits nearby, book in hand, watching over what’s mine.

I zoom in on Grace’s face with my thumb, tracing the curve of her cheek through the screen. A poor substitute for the real thing. The longing to touch her, to breathe in her unique blueberry scent claws at my chest.

Being apart is agony, growing worse with every hour.

"She’d be safer with me."

Fenris growls his agreement. If it wasn’t for the strangeness of this place, he would have run to the hospital, doing his damnedest to sneak in regardless of their position on animals.

I scroll through previous messages; it’s been hours since Lyre contacted me directly, leaving me reliant on the Fiddleback contact, a nurse at the hospital who sends photos like clockwork but offers no real information.

Of course, Grace is sleeping. There isn’t much to report. But it still rankles.

My jaw tightens. This arrangement is intolerable. Once I get Grace to Lycan territory, under my protection, surrounded by people I trust...

A hiccup breaks my concentration.

The wizard kneels before me, a pathetic sight with his trembling hands clenched atop bony knees. Thom keeps his gaze fixed on the floor, shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow.

I speak to you." His groveling only makes my

jerks up, his glasses sliding down his nose. Behind the tinted lenses, his eyes hold a strange, foggy quality. The familiar,

again." I set my phone face-down beside me. "And this time, make

shudder runs through him. "There’s something interfering with the magical currents

"What kind of something?"

say, High Alpha. It’s old. And s-strange. Not natural."

"Define strange."

for you." His hands shake, the knuckles turning pale, despite my reasonable attitude as I listen to his explanation for a second time. "Normal magic

elbows on my knees. "You said it was interfering with Grace’s

Thom nods.

"But it’s stronger here?"

like a puppet. "It’s concentrated here. I thought it

"Stop stuttering."

"Y-yes, High Alpha."

at my eyebrow, I sigh. "And you don’t know what it

wires of

be some

his voice carries conviction. "Not a spell. It’s older. A presence. Something which affects everything inside of its

testing the air. All I smell is the stale emptiness of this staged house, the wizard’s fear-sweat, and a faint chemical tang clinging to

your tracking abilities

his confidence already gone. "Signals get lost. Distorted. When I tried to focus on your... on the girl, there was...

"Her name is Grace."

something pushes back.

format. Different

I feel uneasy. Why is the rainbow-haired brat no longer

since I

can

jaw tightens as I pick up my phone again. Enough of this silence. I swipe to Lyre’s contact and type out a message

Grace? Real ones, not

sits there,

again, waiting. But she doesn’t read

audacity of Grace’s little

her condition, I expect

Still nothing.

causing Thom to flinch violently,