Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 84: Lyre: Irritating Company

LYRE

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel, counting each breath the oversized wolf takes from the passenger seat.

Inhale. Exhale. Each one sounds like someone slowly deflating a balloon made of sandpaper. If I weren’t tracking the faint magical signature pulsing at the edge of my awareness, I might conjure a plastic bag just to get some peace.

"So where exactly are we headed?" Jack-Eye asks, his voice carrying the forced politeness people use when they think you’re being unreasonable.

The pulsing grows stronger, moving toward the eastern edge of the city. They’re still on the move.

"I told you," I snap, taking a hard left as my tires squeal, "I don’t know yet."

"Not to be difficult, but that’s hard to believe." He braces one hand against the dashboard. "You’re obviously driving somewhere."

I narrow my eyes at the road ahead, the thread of magic pulling me forward. Tracking magic is a constant annoyance, like a fish hook caught under my ribs. "If you don’t shut your face in the next five seconds, I’m pulling over and kicking you to the curb."

The threat buys me approximately twenty seconds of blessed silence before he opens his mouth again.

"You’re a strange woman, you know that?"

My lips curl into something too sharp to be called a smile. "Is the big, handsome wolf upset because he found a woman who doesn’t fall for his charms at first sight?" I take another turn without signaling, just to watch him grab for the handle above the window.

His mouth quirks into an insufferable grin; I can see it out of the corner of my eye. "At least I know you think I’m handsome."

Blech.

Not only is he way too young for me, his conceit is nauseating. Playboys have never been my thing.

is showing. Might want to tuck it back in

chuckles. "That’s the best comeback

material for people who matter," I mutter, ignoring how his eyebrows shoot up. "Right now I’m busy trying to find your

if my suspicions

direction slightly, and I make a sharp

you’re stealing the car?" he asks, his knuckles white

But

him lurch forward. "If my driving bothers

miss this stimulating conversation?

fishhook tug feels like it’s trying to yank an

a pizza joint with gaudy neon signs,

have to worry about cancer, and the flavored ones are quite delicious. Birthday cake in a puff? Yes,

on," I murmur, pulling into

leans forward. "Are

wanted a smoke break," I

me, like he’s considering actually believing my words.

taste of mixed energies washes over me—human

the urge to hunt rises. The tugging has ceased, leaving only the faintest vibration. "Whoever took Grace might be here," I say, keeping my voice low. "Or at least, someone

the predator rising to the surface of his skin. His hand drops to

his arm. He’s warm and surprisingly solid.

In muscle, not brain.

maybe both is more

what we’re dealing with. If you go charging in teeth bared, we might spook him

but he nods. "What’s the plan,

signature, figure out who’s carrying it. You stay in the

barks a laugh. "Not