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She sees Maryanne, who is poised there, mouth open.

Jen blinks. “Fuck.”

Maryanne’s eyes go wide, realizing what she must look like. She lunges away again, and I’m dragged a few feet before I manage to stop, still holding her tight.

“Jen, go,” I say. “Please. Maryanne, I’m sorry. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

She’s pulling, and I have her pant leg in both hands now, pain ripping down my injured arm. Jen’s saying something, but I can’t make it out. Raoul thinks it’s a game and growls, dancing around us. Maryanne gives one big heave, and I’m certain that’s it. She’s gone, and goddamn it, why the hell is Raoul—

Maryanne stops. “Eric?” she whispers.

I follow her gaze to see a figure loping toward us. It’s not Dalton, though. It’s Sebastian. He skids to a stop, seeing us.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I was walking him off leash and…” He sees Maryanne—gets a good look at her. There’s exactly two seconds of silence, and I swear I see his brain whir, lightning fast. Then he smiles and extends a hand. “Sebastian.”

She blinks, and when she speaks, it’s a near mumble as she tries to keep her teeth covered. “You looked a little like Eric, as a boy.”

Sebastian’s smile grows. “You knew Sheriff Dalton when he was younger? Cool.” His voice is calm, completely unperturbed by this wild-haired woman clad in makeshift clothing.

“I’m sorry,” Jen says. “Didn’t mean to startle you. This damned mutt and this damned kid…” She glowers at Sebastian.

“Thanks for helping me get him,” Sebastian says.

Jen rewards his politeness with a raised middle finger. He ignores it and takes Raoul by the collar, scolding him in French.

Sebastian looks at Maryanne. “He’s mostly wolf, but he’s tame. He’s pretty well trained until he wants to run, and then he somehow forgets his own name.”

She smiles at that, forgetting her teeth until her hand flies up to cover them, but Sebastian pretends not to notice. He has a way with people. Of course, that has something to do with being a sociopath. He’s not the stereotypically suave charmer that Hollywood loves, but there’s a disarming charisma to him that’s hard to ignore when he switches it on.

“Sebastian?” I say. “On your way through town, could you please find my sister and ask her to meet me at my old house? Tell her to bring a first-aid kit.”

“What do you need me to do?” Jen asks.

I hesitate. I want to tell her to just back off and stay out of our way after nearly sending Maryanne fleeing into the forest. But she’s been quiet since then and looks almost abashed.

“Bring food and drink and clothing,” I say. “Whatever you spend, we’ll reimburse. Just do it as discreetly as possible.” I pause, realizing who I’m speaking to. Shit. “This is very important. Don’t tell anyone—”

I stop suddenly. “Wait. If you’re here, where’s the baby?”

“In a snowbank over there. Don’t worry, she’s got plenty to eat. I tied some bacon around her neck. That’s okay, right?”

“Jen? Where’s—”

“With Will at the station. We were out for a stroll when this kid lost his wolf puppy. I gave the baby to Will and came to help round up the damned mutt.”

“Which was very kind of her,” Sebastian says. “And has nothing to do with the fact that the reason Raoul took off is because she yelled at him for running to see the baby.”

“Fuck you, brat. Keep your damn wolf on a leash or the next time I see it…” She catches my eye and grumbles, “Keep him on a leash.”

Jen stalks off.

“She’s really very nice when you get to know her,” Sebastian says, and then shakes his head and mouths to Maryanne, No, she’s not.

“I heard that!” Jen calls back.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Believe me, I still heard it.”


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Rockton Mystery