Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 115: Grace: Hide and Seek, Peek-a-Boo

I fish my phone from my pocket and shoot Lyre a quick text.

[GRACE: Made it safe. Kids settled. Everything ok on your end?]

The three dots never appear. Not even a "delivered" notification.

Signal’s probably garbage out here. Or she’s napping. Could be dealing with her own crew of supernaturals with big personalities and bigger egos. Jack-Eye seems like he’d either be helpful or a handful.

Kind of like Jer, actually. Maybe they share initials for a reason.

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I squint at the solar panel display again. The battery percentage has dipped slightly since Caine left, but we’re still at a respectable 94%. Not bad for an hour of AC use. And the trailer’s significantly cooler now.

Behind me, Ron’s taken over entertaining the kids. "Hey, Sara, wanna play a game with Bun?"

"What kind of game?"

"Hide-and-seek peek-a-boo, but with a twist. You shift into something small, and Bun has to find you. When she does, we all say peek-a-boo."

A pause. "That’s basically just regular hide and seek. And I can’t say peek-a-boo in hedgie form."

"So? She likes finding animals better than people, and she likes saying peek-a-boo. Come on, it’ll keep her occupied."

"Pa-buu!"

The camper jostles as they storm about, like we’re a ship at sea. Sturdy—Lyre made it perfectly clear the movement is very normal—but probably strange to them.

I’m barely listening, focused on deciphering the solar display, only to get distracted when my stomach grumbles. It’s later in the day, and we’ve only had breakfast.

It isn’t hard to make a giant plate of baby carrots, sliced cubes of cheddar, apples, and even grapes. Putting it out on the counter? Even easier. Getting the kids to eat it...?

Apparently, it’s quite hard.

"Snacks, guys!"

Ron glances up from where he’s crouched near the couch. "Thanks, Grace."

Jer appears out of nowhere, his head at my elbow. "I’m not hungry."

Bun? Ignores me. It’s mildly offensive. She was glued to me, but now she’s trying to cram her head under the couch and oblivious to my existence.

"That’s fine. It’s here if you want it." I scan the room. Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on what. Like I’m forgetting something important.

Jer hovers as I head back to the kitchenette. "How does the water work in here?"

Great question. I’ve recently learned all about it, too. Okay, not all about it. But I do know there’s a button for the water pump and now I know it’s important to keep the "fresh water" tank filled.

to a fresh water tank, and it supplies water to all the plumbing

about electricity? Is it all from the

generator, and that’s

"Why gas?"

run." I’m not

if it rains

know. We’d probably use the generator more?" I wonder how

was a zombie apocalypse? Would we

the sun rises, I guess." I lean against the

if dinosaurs came back? Could we outrun them in

reply, unable to hold back

like pinballs, bouncing all over the place. No idea where

could take on the

the chicken’s

horror. Ron snorts

from dinosaurs. So technically, T-Rex

as he splutters, gangly arms waving in

is the King of Dinosaurs," he protests.

head. "T-Rex isn’t the king. There’s

monarchy?" He squints at me, looking more suspicious than curious. Like maybe

with his head

monarchy is what a king rules over. Like England. They have kings." I pause. "Well, a queen right now? Uh. No, maybe it’s a king. Both?"

the

pick velociraptors over T-Rex any day." I’ve literally never thought about tiers of powerful dinosaurs before this very moment, so I just throw out

they’re not dinosaurs. What are the ones

there we go. The extent of my dinosaur knowledge. Chicken evolution and three whole dinosaur

recognize more than three, to be

Jurassic Park?" His eyes widen. "They

the only reason

Caine’s super big. His arms

baby carrot while still debating dinosaur royalty in his

It has a very

my eyes

on alert as he looks at me.

one wild moment, I wish Caine were here. Just his presence—solid, watchful, impossible to startle—would be enough to

the

lungs. Fenris is under the camper. It’s

by how steady my voice sounds. "Probably just Fenris.

blind to peer outside. "The golden retriever

worry about." I plaster on a reassuring smile, feeling my pulse gradually