Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 111

Chapter 110: Grace: Being Watched

I pull my phone from my pocket, hands shaking slightly as I find Lyre’s number. It rings once, twice, three times. My heart sinks with each unanswered tone. What if she doesn’t pick up? What if something’s happened to her? What if—

"Grace?" Lyre’s voice fills my ear, sounding slightly breathless. "I was just thinking about you."

Relief floods through me. "Lyre, thank the Goddess. We have a problem."

"When don’t we?" she says, but the sarcasm sounds strained. "What’s happening?"

"We’re at the camper, but the kids can’t get in. There’s some kind of... barrier keeping them out."

"Oh, that." Lyre sounds utterly untroubled. "Access ward. Safety feature. Got tired of jackasses breaking in whenever I park somewhere remote. It’ll disengage once you hitch it to the truck. Don’t worry about it."

"Don’t worry—" I bite back the rest of my sentence, too aware of little ears. "Fine. Thanks."

"You good otherwise?" she asks, suddenly sharper.

I hesitate, not wanting to voice the creeping dread slithering up my spine. "Yeah. We’re fine."

"Hmm." She doesn’t sound convinced. "Call if you need anything else. I mean it."

I hang up and turn to the kids. "Slight change of plans. The door won’t open until we hook the camper to the truck."

"But I need to pee!" Jer wails.

"Go in the trees," Sara says, pointing.

"I’m not peeing in the trees! There could be bears!"

"There are definitely bears," Ron says, deadpan.

Jer’s eyes widen in horror.

"Enough," Caine’s voice cuts through the bickering. The kids fall silent immediately. Even Bun stares at him with her huge, solemn eyes. "Everyone back in the truck. Lock the doors. I’ll help Grace prepare the camper."

all stay in the truck," I say

eyes narrow. "You can’t do

Lyre do it. It’s not

I’ll help

"Ever pack up

"No."

in the way. Stay with the

truck. I exhale shakily, relieved to have space to

pieces of furniture are moved together to keep them from moving around with any

are no dirty

shoulders keep prickling, so I forego the extra step. The gray tanks are next. A little water and some black tank treatment and they’re all ready

and the camper’s ready—on the

the gross sewer hoses. Use about half a bottle of sanitizer, even though I used gloves. Pull strange triangular blocks from the wheels, which are supposed to keep them from moving. Once it’s ready, I rap on Caine’s window

I’m sure Jer’s about ready to burst, and

feeling of being watched intensifying with each

again. Nothing moves except leaves stirring in the

paranoid," I whisper to

hit the button to retract the slides. The mechanical whirr seems obscenely loud in the quietness of the forest. Sweat trickles down my back despite the cool

terror over what ifs somehow meanders down the idea of horrible disasters, and horrible disasters

have been

me is now complete.

really hope she doesn’t make get too mad, but other than that

it all. By

trailer’s now ready

the feeling. Instead, I sprint back toward the truck, suddenly desperate not to be alone for another

my fingers brush the door handle, something moves in the trees behind

freeze, whirling around, my

the gentle sway

I whisper.

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