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.

gesturing vaguely to the electric panel. "It’s connected to a fresh water

it all

have a generator,

"Why gas?"

uses gas to... run." I’m not super familiar with generators,

if it rains

use the generator more?"

was a zombie apocalypse? Would we still have

I guess." I lean against the

if dinosaurs came back? Could we outrun them in

I reply, unable to

pinballs, bouncing all over the place. No idea where they come from—or why—but I answer them all as best as

think the Lycan King could take on the King

the chicken’s

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

dinosaurs. So technically, T-Rex is related to

as he splutters, gangly

the King of Dinosaurs," he protests. "He would totally eat

my head. "T-Rex isn’t the king. There’s no dinosaur

a monarchy?" He squints at me, looking more suspicious than

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

a king rules over. Like England. They have kings." I pause. "Well, a queen right now? Uh. No,

the dinosaur

any day." I’ve literally never thought about tiers of powerful dinosaurs before this very moment, so I just throw out one of the only

not dinosaurs. What are the ones who—right. Pterodactyls.

of my dinosaur knowledge. Chicken evolution and three whole dinosaur

more than three,

Jurassic Park?" His eyes

reason I

arms are even

grabbing a baby carrot while still debating dinosaur royalty in his

camper, and there’s a high-pitched shriek. It has a very distinct outside sound,

my eyes immediately go to the door. It’s completely

he looks at me. Only

were here. Just his presence—solid, watchful, impossible

the younger boy

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

how steady my voice sounds. "Probably just Fenris. He’s the black wolf

retriever is running

Nothing to worry about." I plaster on a reassuring