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.

I answer, gesturing vaguely to the electric panel. "It’s connected to a fresh water tank, and it supplies water to all the

about electricity? Is it all

yes. We have a generator, and that’s why Caine’s getting

"Why gas?"

uses gas to... run." I’m

if it

the generator more?"

was a zombie apocalypse? Would we

sun rises, I guess." I lean against the counter, watching his mind

came back? Could we outrun them in

reply,

all over the place. No idea where they come from—or

could take

mean the

drops, dark eyes wide with horror. Ron snorts in the

evolved from dinosaurs. So

quirk as he splutters,

he protests. "He would totally eat the

"T-Rex isn’t

squints at me, looking more suspicious than

messing around with his head a little. It’s more

queen right now? Uh. No, maybe it’s

the

But if you want my vote, I’d 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 one of

the ones who—right. Pterodactyls. The

go. The extent of my dinosaur knowledge. Chicken evolution

than three, to be

eyes widen. "They were

the only reason I remember their existence,

super big. His arms are even bigger than

dinosaur royalty in his head. His serious expression over something

It

my throat and my eyes immediately go

on alert as he looks at me. Only Bun continues crawling around the furniture,

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

that?" the younger

my lungs. Fenris is under the camper. It’s probably just him,

okay," I say, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "Probably just

retriever is

worry about." I plaster on