Chapter 8 The Wolf You Can’t Run From
Marlow
"Down here," Wynn says. That's all the warning I get before he jumps down into a ravine, totally oblivious to the fact that not all of us can see in the dark.
Escaping is hard work. It always looks so much cooler in the movies.
Not this, stumbling blind through an endless forest in the middle of the night.
The darkness so complete I can barely make out Wynn's silhouette ahead. I’d be running into everything and leaving my scent everywhere if I were in the flesh.
"Hey, let's slow down."
"Later," he says without pausing.
"It's fine," I insist, but he's not convinced.
"You don't know that. For all we know, your escape has already been discovered."
I roll my eyes dramatically. It's a pity he misses the sight. "We've got a few hours until they find out I'm not in the cell. You’ll hear it if an angry pack of dogs are chasing us."
"Wolves," he corrects prissily. Amazing, how can he pack so much irritation into one word while sprinting through the trees in a hideous disguise?
He’s leading me deeper into the woods that belong to his pack, away from the city and the inhabited part of the Iron territory. Towards the mountains that border this side of Concordia. I’ll circle back and figure something out once free.
There’s just one thing I need to take care of first.
“So, Wynn—"
“Escaping works best in silence," he says. "Is there something really important you need to say? Like you hate my shoes?"
"No…" I stop to consider the question, but Wynn's already getting further away. "Well, actually, I don't remember what your shoes look like. I was too distracted by the cloak of ugliness."
“You’re going to do this now?” Iggy's disapproving comment comes from above my right ear where he flies along next to me.
Truth be told, our great escape isn't the best time to lay all the cards on the table. But Wynn's going to be pissed when he finds out the truth, and once this potion wears off, I will become very punchable.
“This potion will wear off soon,” I whisper. “He might kick my ass.”
Wynn's location is a mystery, but it's somewhere in the darkness to my right instead of the black void to my left. He's heard enough of the conversation to mutter, "What about your ass?"
"It's a great ass," I tell him without missing a beat. "Have you had a chance to check it out yet?"
"Escaping works much better in silence," he reminds me pointedly.
"I'm just saying, we were face to face while I was in the cell. Maybe you missed it. You should really take a look while you can."
The soft footfalls up ahead stop short. "While I can?"
"Yeah,” I say. Here it comes. “Trust me, I'm grateful for your assistance and all, but I just think it's best if we split up sooner rather than later. No reason to draw this out, right?”
The whole forest around us goes quiet and still. No sound from Wynn either. Where's he hiding?
Then comes the stomp of angry werewolf steps, and his eyes flash a glowing amber color—the only light in the dark for a heart-stopping second—I’m not even ashamed to be super grateful he can't kick my ass right now.
"That's what you think?" he hisses. "That's what you think?"
"Yes?"
"You selfish bastard," he snarls, swinging a right hook that passes through me harmlessly.
"Still think I chose the wrong time?" I murmur to Iggy. Wynn swings again, but I'm not worried. "That's not going to work."
He doesn't let logic stop him. "Well, I'll keep punching until it does."
"You were saying something about better uses for our time? Running away?" I remind him.
"You were lying, weren't you?" he asks softly. Oof. He sounds so miserable I almost want the punching back. "When you said we were mates?"
"Well, um—stop that," I say when he swings again. "I wasn't lying! Though there are other options. Do you often see things no one else does? Are you a psychic, a medium, or demonic? Do you have any connection to the underworld?"
He doesn't swing again, though he doesn't sound happy. "You didn't mention those other options before."
"Do any of those options fit?" I ask, not denying that I left something out. Best to avoid cold feet about helping me. And all the other possible explanations feel like a long shot.
"No," he says quietly, confirming what I already suspected. "None of those things apply to me."
"Then us being mates is the most likely option.” A 'gift' I never asked for from the cosmic, annoying forces of the universe.
I may be an asshole, but not that much of an asshole to lie about this.
“Unless we find a better reason for why you can see what you shouldn't, or unless we Recognize each other, there's no saying for sure. "
"If you're telling the truth, why are you trying to bail?"
"Because I don't believe in fairy tales.
" Suddenly I'm glad for not having enhanced senses and not being able to see his face clearly in the darkness.
"Look, Wynn, I'm grateful for this, truly.
I'm even braving my allergy to genuine emotion and telling you that I'm grateful without rolling my eyes or saying 'JK LOL,' but. .. I'm not that guy."
"What guy is that?"
"The guy that's been waiting for you all my life.
True love isn't my jam.” Even saying the words “true love” feels so sappy and icky.
“We aren't going to live happily ever after and ride off into the sunset on unicorns.
I'm not trying to break your big dog heart, so it's best to go our separate ways now. "
Silence stretches between us, and I squint into the darkness, trying to gauge his reaction. His silhouette remains still, and I start wondering if that’s even him or just a very short tree. I could be alone in the blackness, waiting for a reply.
"Maybe," he finally acknowledges.
"Good, I'm glad." And totally not disappointed.
"Except for the part where splitting up means releasing a murder suspect into the night and going about my business. You're free because of me," he reminds me. “You’re my responsibility."
I glare in the direction of his voice. "Told you, I'm innocent."
"Great. Then where's the proof?"
"If I had proof, I wouldn't be charged with a crime I didn't commit. I wouldn't be on the run."
"Then you're stuck with me," he says. "We're stuck with each other until we get this sorted out."
Dammit. Stupid stubborn wolf. Should I try ditching him?
Wynn's eyes suddenly glow, lighting up the darkness around us.
I raise a hand against the sudden brightness, and when I adjust to it, the visibility he provides doesn't tell me much.
Trees rise up around us, blocking out the moon and sky overhead.
No idea where the hell we are. There's no point getting away from him right this second.
I'd be totally lost and only waste more time.
"You said nobody believed you, so you didn't even bother telling the truth when we caught you." He sounds so serious for a guy with two headlights on his face. "So couldn't you use all the help you can get? Three heads are better than two."
"You're not going to budge on this, are you?" I ask warily.
"Nope."
"Fine, whatever." I don’t try to hide my irritation. "Not like you're giving us much choice."
"Great! Glad that's settled. Should we get going again?"
Staying together seems like the worst option, especially for Wynn.
He's already taken a huge risk by helping a wanted fugitive like me.
And now he knows the truth, that there's nothing in this for him.
True mates or not, we're going our separate ways eventually.
So why should he stick around, just because his pesky conscience demands it?
See, I knew morals were terrible things. Good thing I don't have them.
I hope my frustration with his insistence to team up hides that he's found one of my weaknesses. Even badass demons such as myself have a soft spot or two.
Three heads are better than two. Stupid wily werewolf, just casually including Iggy like that. How could I possibly argue?
And speaking of the gargoyle.
"Hold on a second," I say. "Guess it's time for introductions."
Wynn must realize what I mean because he doesn’t even complain about wasting time.
He turns his glowing eyes to the gargoyle floating nervously above my shoulder.
Iggy makes an involuntary “eep” noise and darts behind me, trying to hide.
Except in my transparent state, Iggy’s still clearly visible, curled up into a ball with his wings flapping above him to keep him aloft.
“Wynn, this is my buddy, Iggy. Iggy, this is Wynn.” I leave 'the werewolf stuck babysitting us' off the end and make the introductions like everything's perfectly normal.
“Uh, hi. Nice to meet you,” Wynn replies, speaking to the tiny figure huddled behind me. “Iggy’s an interesting name for a gargoyle.”
“Short for Igneous,” I offer. “The type of rock he’s made of.”
The gargoyle mumbles something as he cautiously uncurls himself and peeks at Wynn. Ig's a little wrecking ball when he's excited, but we've spent so much time in the human world with him needing to hide, so he's timid whenever someone actually sees him.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” I coax gently.
Iggy drifts around me, hovering in the air in front of Wynn. He pipes up with a little bow and a surprisingly formal, “Thank you for your assistance.”
“No problem.”
“From everything you’ve said to Marlow, it’s the exact opposite."
“Yeah, but… you’re not Marlow.” Wynn tilts his head curiously. It isn't adorable. “Right?”
“Correct,” Iggy confirms.
“Then it’s no problem at all, not for you,” Wynn continues, flashing a bright smile at Iggy. He’s already taken a liking to the little gargoyle, already liking him better than me. So unfair. “Look, uh, I’m really sorry about calling you ugly before. I was just upset at Marlow.”
“I understand,” Iggy replies. “He isn’t always the easiest to deal with.”
“Hey!” I object.
“Totally,” Wynn agrees.
“Hey!”
Great, now they’re both against me. My own gargoyle, betraying me to side with the werewolf. This better not set a precedent where they think they can team up against me. Not that it matters. As soon as this mess is over, we’ll never see each other again.
We get going again, and I stay quiet while the wolf confidently leads us through the forest.
The sooner we get this solved and go our separate ways, the better.
Wynn Blackwood just did me the greatest favor in the world.
More than anyone else in any dimension, whether man, demon, werewolf, whatever.
It might feel like a kick in the nuts right now, but I'm not going to return that kindness by getting his hopes up and making him think he can make an honest demon out of me.
The wolf gave me a chance after catching me in a lie. The least I can do is give him the truth now. I've never put much stock in fairy tales and I'm not about to start now.