Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 112: Lyre: Rest

My phone buzzes in the console tray just as I notice Jack-Eye has finally shut up. He’s slumped in the passenger seat with his arm half-covering his face, probably thinking I can’t tell he’s still awake. His breathing isn’t even close to sleep rhythm.

I glance down at the notification, swiping to read Grace’s message.

[GRACE: Made it to the spot. We’re alive. Also... no water...]

I swipe a quick reply.

[LYRE: Why didn’t you fill the tank before you left? Fresh water tank connection’s right next to the city water.]

[GRACE: Uhhhhh... oops?]

A snort escapes before I can stop it. Endearing little disaster. At least she’s safe for now.

The truck hits a pothole the size of a small child, and Jack-Eye’s head jolts up. He groans, reaching for the dashboard to steady himself. "Could you not text and drive?"

"We’ve all got to live dangerously sometime." I toss my phone back into the console tray. "Besides, vampires text and fly all the time. I’m practically a safety expert by comparison."

In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of Thom’s panicked expression. He’s seated in the middle, between Owen and Andrew—both sleeping—and he has nowhere to grab for safety. He was probably asleep until the pothole, too.

Humans and their pitiful need for rest. Not that I’m immune. Even my energy has limits. Mine just don’t come as quickly as theirs.

A flickering vacancy sign appears in the distance—some questionable roadside establishment. It probably hasn’t seen fresh sheets since the Reagan administration and the carpet inside likely smells like despair and decades of poor life choices. Someone’s definitely selling bodies in this place. Not dead ones, obviously.

Grace and Caine are far enough from Fiddleback’s immediate zone now. They’re safe enough to allow myself a few degrees of relief, and maybe grant these pitiful tagalongs some rest.

Especially the wizard.

parking lot, ignoring Jack-Eye’s confused stare, and

7-gallon Reliance jugs + three 5-gallon Aquatainers. Use a siphon or pump into the freshwater

We’d normally have a full tank of fresh water, but

fact she remembered enough to get the trailer packed up and ready to go is

terrifying, beautiful goddess. I love you. I’ll think of

or wait until we’re back and use the water sparingly. Don’t forget there’s bottled water

a thumbs-up emoji in

like a dying flashlight, dim around the

mutter, mostly to myself. The boy can’t regulate his arcana circulation for shit. Typical of modern

the engine. "We’re stopping for the night.

straightens. "You’re

not wasting money. I’ll just get a

you in it?" Jack-Eye looks at me like I’ve suggested we all sleep in lava. Forever, obviously. "You’re out of your damn

his unsettling silver eyes. Even half-asleep, his voice is

course the angel-blood thinks I need special treatment. He probably still believes in the old legends about my kind. As if I’d burn the sheets or

fingers on the steering wheel. "Two rooms, two queens each. Someone can

turn toward the backseat. "The

stay with you."

snorts. I guess he woke

surprise breaking through my usual composure. My brows knit as I study his expression. The wolf looks

I begin,

tone brooks no argument, though he has absolutely no authority

enough to make it clear I’m choosing to acquiesce, not being commanded. Then I glance back at Thom, who looks horribly dejected—like someone just told him Christmas is canceled. The last thing I need is the