Chapter Ten
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The prospective property was off the main road and a couple of blocks from the tavern. Owen yawned as he walked with his littermate down the private graveled lane. Last night had been dark of the moon when the cahirs patrolled the town all night. It’d been quiet, but his tail was dragging today.
He’d have slept longer, but both he and Gawain wanted to check out this two-story log cabin. Yesterday when they’d complained about turning down all the houses shown by the realtor, Calum had suggested this place. He’d also warned that the house was in bad shape.
How bad could it be?
“At least with Calum in charge of the property, the paperwork should be quick.” The last owner—a shifter—had died without an heir, so the property had gone to the Cosantir to manage for the good of the Daonain.
“Why should the legal stuff be faster than normal?” Gawain asked.
“Calum was a lawyer before the God yanked him into being Cosantir. According to Alec, his littermate wasn’t at all pleased with the change in his profession.”
Gawain grinned. “The God does what the God does. I take it the Cosantir is used to babysitting Daonain property.”
“I don’t know how many places he has, but the Wildwood Lodge was one. Zeb and Shay had managed it before they talked him into letting them buy.” Owen shook his head. “In the purchase contract, Calum added a clause so the Cosantir of the territory would always have one room to loan out—free—at his discretion.”
“There’s a lawyer for you.” Gawain glanced over. “Darcy has the free room?”
“Um-hmm.” As they approached the cabin, Owen studied the layout. The driveway made a lazy circle allowing access to a converted barn, then the house.
According to Calum, the property had been tended lovingly…until the last generation turned it into a rental. Owen scowled at the run-down appearance of the cabin. Even if he hadn’t needed a place, he’d have bought the place just to bring the house back to the way it should be.
Gawain climbed the porch steps and frowned as a board cracked under his weight. “Got our work cut out for us.”
“So it seems.” Owen tried the door, but the deadbolt was engaged. Calum had said the key was lost. “Let’s find a window to crawl through. I’ll bring tools to change the lock next time.”
“Hold on.” Gawain flattened his hand over where the deadbolt connected to the metal plate.
Owen took a step back as power radiated from his littermate.
A minute passed. Turning the handle, Gawain set his shoulder against the door and pushed.
Owen shook his head. “Brawd, that’s a deadbolt. Not—”
The door opened, something thudded on the floor, and Gawain walked in.
Well. Owen knelt to check out what had fallen…and it was the actual deadbolt. The metal had melted into a teardrop shape.
Blademages were rare, secretive, and more powerful than he’d known.
Owen walked in.
“Nobody’s been here for a long time,” Gawain called from the living room.
Owen sniffed in interest, but took his littermate’s word for it. Gawain’s nose had always been the more sensitive.
In the living room, the solid hardwood floor was in good shape. The walls…not so much. Someone had used one wall to write down phone numbers. Fists and boots had left holes and dents here and there.
There was garbage everywhere.
He frowned at a bare ceiling light bulb dangling from a frayed wire. One spark and the whole place would go up. “Brawd, we can’t live here until an electrician checks it out. And until the litter is gone.”
Gawain’s expression held disgust. “Agreed.”
“Ben, one of the cahirs, is a general contractor. We can hire him for anything we can’t handle.”
“I’ll tell Shay to book us at the lodge for a while to come.” Gawain shrugged. “Since we’re mentoring Darcy, it’s just as well. It’s not good to leave her alone too long.”
“True enough.” The female looked as frayed as this house’s electrical wiring. He couldn’t even imagine how he’d react if Gawain or Bonnie were imprisoned and he couldn’t rescue them. He’d be clawing things apart before a day was up. Actually, Darcy had been a marvel of patience. He grinned at Gawain. “When we’re not out in the woods with her, let’s put her to work here.”
“I’d say you’re taking advantage of free labor, but she does need to keep busy.” Gawain studied him. “I’m impressed you’re willing to have a female underfoot.”
“Eh, she’s not all that bad.” He ignored his littermate’s grin. “Let’s check the upstairs.”
With Gawain behind him, Owen walked up the stairs, making mental notes. The railing needed to be replaced. The hole-ridden carpet on the stairs and hallway should be ripped up.
The second-floor rooms were designed in traditional Daonain fashion. Down the left hallway, the female’s suite was encircled by three smaller male bedrooms. The hallway to the right led to bedrooms for cublings.
The place was designed for a big family. Owen frowned. Having just him and Gawain here was a waste. Fuck knew, he had no intention of lifemating. Although…how did Gawain feel about mating and children? It was something they should discuss someday.
Maybe after they’d lived together for a decade or so.
A glance at the various bedrooms gave an idea of what would be needed to make them habitable. Wallpaper was peeling away in long strips. The carpets had holes and rips. There were leak marks around the windows. Several windows were broken. Debris was strewn everywhere.
Gawain walked around silently, his expression disgusted. “I’ve seen cleaner gnome-holes.”
Since gnomes brought their garbage back to their dens, that was quite an insult. Owen couldn’t disagree. “Want to pick a room?”
“The east-facing one, if you don’t mind. It overlooks the barn.”
“Fine with me. I prefer one closer to the forest anyway.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Gawain chuckled. “Let’s see the kitchen—although the thought makes me cringe.”
Cringe was right. Whatever yellow color the walls had been had turned to a sickly urine tint. Mold and grime covered the wood countertops.
“Who could live like this?” Gawain shook his head. “Think we can hire some older cubs to clean out the garbage and strip the walls?”
“Better them than us. It’d be worth the money.”
Although receiving a stipend from the clan, he and Gawain worked at other jobs…as did most God-chosen. Owen sold his carvings; Gawain sold metalwork. Since neither of them lived extravagantly, they had ample funds to toss at this problem.
“Let’s check out the barn. As far as I’m concerned, the shop space will be the make or break.”
Once outside, Gawain walked to the back of the faded-red massive barn and grinned when he saw the covered carport with an extremely high roof. “I bet someone built this for an RV. It’s perfect for my outdoor forge.”
Owen ran his hand over the barn wall. The wood was in fine shape. “The barn’s a lot newer.” They went in the smaller door to the side and looked around. Still holding the faint odor of hay, the huge open space had a tack room and bathroom in the back. No litter—the renters must not have bothered to use it.
“I can work with this. I say let’s take the place,” Gawain said.
Owen smiled as pleasure rose inside. He’d be living with his littermate again, and they were making themselves a lair. Although mountain lions didn’t tend to create permanent dens, the human side of a shifter had a profound influence when it came to homes. As a result, werecats were almost as den-happy as werebears. “Agreed.”
Gawain turned in a circle and frowned. “We’ll need to put in windows, though.”
“Easy enough.” Owen glanced around. Plenty of space. One corner was all he’d need for his carving stuff.
“How about I take the left side of the barn?” Gawain asked. “There’s a door to the covered area, and I can set my outside forge up under there. Then I can set up a ritual area in the grassy space on the left.”
“Sure.” Owen grinned at the light of anticipation in his brother’s eyes. The blademage had obviously been missing his tools. “I’ll take the back right corner. I mostly need a quiet area and storage.”
“Sounds good. I figure I can set up enough to handle blademage requests within a few days, although it might take a while for people to realize I’m here.”
“It’s a small town and an underpopulated territory. You’ll be surprised how quickly the news gets around.” Owen glanced at the driveway. “Having our businesses just off the main highway will help.”
“This is true.” Gawain’s smile widened. “Actually, we should put a sign out there on the road. Something eye-catching. What are the chances I can talk you into carving a sign for both of our businesses?”
Now there was a fine compliment. “You design it. I can carve it.”
“Perfect.” Gawain sighed. “How about we check out the other rooms in the downstairs. Something tells me the plumbing will need work, too.”
“And you said I was the pessimist.”
After thoroughly inspecting the entire house again, Gawain went into the kitchen to finish the to-do list.
Owen wandered through the big downstairs, envisioning how the rooms would appear once clean and furnished. He stopped to brush dust away from the beautifully carved trim beside the kitchen door and murmured, “We’ll get you fixed up, house. Don’t worry.”
Despite the neglect and mess, the place had a good feeling to it, as if years of contentment and happiness had seeped into the wood.
He looked forward to living here. Working here. Although…a touch of guilt edged in. Would he and Gawain be letting the house down by not filling the empty rooms with cublings?