Chapter Six

Luke

 

In the middle of a serene breakfast, as I was savoring my last independent moments before Reagan woke up, there was a commotion in the backyard. With a knowing groan, I ventured out there. Three giant furry bodies hurled themselves at me on the steps, yipping and licking.

“Thanks for the loan,” Tristan Llary said. His eyes were closed, and his face was tilted to the early sun. It made his golden-red hair glow, and he opened amber eyes at me. “But we got nothing.”

“Really?” I asked and looked at the bloodhounds. They were three of the best trackers to be had, outside of myself and the Farthing Wolves. “What the hell is this thing?”

“Trouble,” Tristan said and smiled widely. “But so far, it can’t get past our defenses. So, I’m not worried. Excris or not, those monsters have never been able to get into Winfyre.”

It got closer than any of the others, though. “Still,” I said and scratched Timber’s ears. Rosie and Bo were already pawing at the back door. “Did you tell Xander yet?”

“He wasn’t home,” Tristan said with a shrug and stretched. “Think he was out last night.”

Shock echoed through me. “Alone?”

“Relax, Lukas, you’ll give yourself a heart attack one of these days,” Tristan said. “You honestly think Xander couldn’t handle himself?”

“It’s not that, and you know it,” I said and rubbed my chest. “Damn that idiot.”

“Idiot keeps us all snug,” Tristan pointed out, and I glared at him. “What, without his—”

“Keep your voice down,” I said and cocked an ear at the house. I didn’t think Reagan was awake, but with Tristan’s big mouth, who knew?

“Is someone else here?” Tristan asked, and he grinned. “Wait, did you bring a lady home?” He reached out and thumped my shoulder. “Brother, it’s about damn time.”

“No,” I said stiffly. “She’s working for me.”

“Oh, she’s working your—”

“I claimed her,” I said, knowing that alone would shut Tristan up. He stared at me, and I dragged him away from the house. “Something’s off with this refugee. Lazu told me to keep an eye out, but I caught danger on the wind, and in walks this girl.”

“What’s her deal?” Tristan asked, and his face darkened. “Some kinda double agent?”

“No, her story checks out, I think, but she’s hiding something,” I said.

“Okay,” Tristan said, now starting to lose interest.

“I don’t know what she is,” I said in a low voice. Tristan gave me a nonplussed look. “Her scent isn’t one I can identify. She’s not a shifter, nor is she any kind of Riftborn we’ve come across before. She put down that she’s a stasis, but that’s just not true.”

“Probably doesn’t even know she has powers,” Tristan said and yawned. “Happens.”

Oh, she knows. “In any case, I’m keeping her close until I figure out if she’s a threat.”

“You claimed a threat?” Tristan asked and raised his eyebrow. “So how pretty is she?”

I scowled. “You’re not listening.”

“Oh no, I get it,” Tristan said and glanced at the house. “Let me take a sniff.”

I grabbed him by the arm before he could take three steps. “Are you insane? I’m not letting you smell my guest.”

“Geez, Luke, make up your mind,” Tristan said. “Guest, threat. You wanna bone her or not?”

“Moron,” I half-snarled, half-laughed. We began to tussle on the lawn, and I got him into a headlock. “Half the time I don’t even think you use that big brain you claim to have.”

Tristan laughed and tried to twist away, nearly throwing me to the dirt. The dogs began to bark, and I heard the door open. We both froze, and Reagan’s scent tickled my nose.

My idiot friend began to laugh harder, and I let him go, raking back my hair and straightening my shirt. The last thing I wanted was for Reagan to see two Commands acting like two kids. When I finally looked up, a smile was playing around her mouth, and her eyes sparkled.

Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a black tank and camo leggings. Fallon had set them aside, along with a few other pieces, at the depot for her.

“Mornin’, new girl,” Tristan said cheerfully. “Look at you, already in fatigue.”

“And here I thought I was done babysitting,” Reagan said, and her eyes found me.

“Tristan Llary, Reagan Grace,” I said stiffly. “He’s another Command, though why we gave him that title, I have no idea.”

“Because I’m funny, charming, and ridiculously brilliant," Tristan said. "Reagan, I’m so sorry you got stuck with sourpuss over here." He glanced at me, grinning, but I saw the look in his eyes. It had hardened, and he gave me a slight bob of the head. "But it's been a hell of a while since we've had refugees. I can understand how he'd want to pick your brain."

“Yeah,” Reagan said and glanced at me. “Well, I’m starting to think it was more a miracle and dumb luck than anything. Not sure I have much to offer.”

“Ha. No such thing as luck in these woods, Ms. Grace,” Tristan said. “Ecologically diverse and dangerous. If you survived, then you have skills we need.”

She nodded, but her eyes fell, and I took that opportunity to kick Tristan. Sometimes he had all the subtlety of, well, a Deacon. Tristan realized this and shot me an apologetic smile.

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me—I haven’t had coffee yet, so I’m freewheel spitballin’,” Tristan said and hooked his hands behind his head. “Seriously, though, Reagan, I’m glad you’re here. We’ve been telling Lukas to get help for ages. Don’t fall for that cool guy act, either. He needs it.”

Reagan grinned, and I glared at him. “Tristan, you can go now,” I said. “You’ve been up all night, and guess what? You smell like it.”

He ignored me. “Again, welcome to Winfyre.” Reagan looked up as he bowed and made a fluttering motion with his hand. “Your Grace, Ms. Grace.”

Reagan laughed, and a spark went through me.

God, she has a beautiful laugh, I thought.

“Thanks,” she said, and I noticed her tugging on Bo’s ears.

Tristan and I made identical movements, but then I realized Bo looked content. As did Rosie and Timber. We glanced at each other and then at Reagan.

She must have seen the surprise on our faces. “Dogs love me.”

“Huh,” I said. “Usually, that’s not the case. At least not right away.” While they’d been trained, they usually didn’t take kindly to strangers. Full of surprises, this one. “Goodbye, Tristan.”

“Take good care of our boy, Rea,” he called and jogged away, vaulting over the back fence.

I rubbed my forehead. It wasn’t even nine a.m., and I already had a headache.

“You could have slept in,” I said and began to walk towards the house. Reagan went inside, followed by the dogs and myself. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Oh, um…” Reagan stopped and looked around the kitchen. It was old-fashioned, with a big cooler for a fridge, since those things sucked up way too much juice. “What’ll you have?”

“Eggs, oatmeal, beans, some fruit and such.”

"Fruit?" Reagan asked in a hopeful tone, and I waved her over to the cooler. It was almost four feet long and three feet deep, a sturdy metal container out of the ’50s, when shit was built to last. "Wow. Where does all of this come from?"

I pulled out the bag of fruit and handed it to her. “Some of it’s our stock, or it’s from outside towns. There are stores still operating, but it's less and less, you know? We've managed to get a hold of a boat and sent out some folks to establish contact with freighters. There are guys out of South America who're willing to sell to us. Kind of like old-school tradin’."

She took out an apple and handed it back to me. “What about this house? Winfyre?”

“Ah,” I said. “The second is a hell of a long story.” I closed the lid of the cooler, and the scars on my hand whitened as my hands gripped it. “Let’s just say, us Northbane boys protected this area, and all of us folks came together. First shifter safe haven in North America, I think.”

I didn’t want to talk about what we’d lost to create a slice of heaven like this.

“As for the house,” I said, “we fixed her up.” I looked around. “Place was falling down around my ears. Took a while, but she’s come along. Attic needs work, and the cellar, but it’s livable.”

“More than livable,” Reagan said and glanced around.

“We’re starting up more farms now, though,” I said as I put the kettle on and lit the stove. “That’s the big project this spring and summer. Make Winfyre as self-sustaining as possible.”

Reagan’s eyes fell. “Sometimes it all seems like a dream.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, gotta make the best of the apocalypse.”

“Is that what you think this is?”

“End of one world, yeah,” I said. “Maybe everyone thought it meant it would be lights out, we’re cooked, but we’re still here.” I paused. “What’s that Jurassic Park quote—‘life finds a way’?”

She smiled wistfully. “Yeah. Man, I miss movies and my phone sometimes, isn’t that stupid?”

“Not at all,” I said. “We’ve got a big TV down the block. Let the kids have movie night every so often. And we let people reserve it for date nights.” She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, and you thought this was some ramshackle camp in the middle of nowhere.”

“Actually, I thought it would be a castle with a bunch of shirtless guys feeding me grapes.”

I almost choked on my drink, and Reagan laughed. Recovering, I said, “I could arrange that. When’s your birthday?”

“No way—I’ve learned to be careful what I let you arrange,” Reagan retorted.

“You mean living here?” I asked. “Oh, you’re gonna love it.” I poured a mug of coffee and slid it across the counter. Her eyes went wide. “Yeah, I saw you pantin’ over it yesterday. Have some.”

“Isn’t it only for shifters or something? There can’t be much left.”

“You let us worry about that,” I said, thinking about how well worth the expense and effort the coffee greenhouse in Veda had been. “And let me know if there’s something special you need or would like to eat.”

“This is more than enough, Luke.”

“You can ask for things, Reagan,” I said.

“You got my dad a month of recovery,” she said. “That’s all I wanted.”

I smiled and swallowed something, thinking about how I’d really done that to get her guard down. But now that she was in my kitchen, it felt unbelievably slimy and sneaky. Maybe I could just outright ask her if she’d noticed any post-Rift changes. Tristan had a point—Riftborn weren’t always aware of what they were.

When I looked back up, Reagan’s eyes were closed, and she was smiling, her mug held to her nose. And I forgot what I was going to say.

 

After breakfast, I showed Reagan around the house, explaining the second floor was more or less off-limits. My domain. But she had the run of the downstairs, including my office and all the books in it. Her eyes lit up at that, and I made a note to show her the Cobalt library.

From there, I set up a rough schedule of her days, assigning her organization tasks, for now, that would familiarize her with the workings of Winfyre.

“We run a tight ship, me and the boys,” I said. “Can’t leave room for error, not when it might mean life or death for folks. Kind of like a military camp, and I’ve got all the logistics for the most part. Always been good with the details.”

“Me too,” Reagan said absently as she looked over manifests. “I used to be a research assistant for a neurology department, like a hundred years ago.”

“Hm, well, anything strikes you as something that could be improved upon, let us know,” I said. “No one’s feelings are going to get hurt.”

After establishing she’d work four days for me, with three days off, Reagan gave me a surprised look. “Three?”

“You’re gonna need the rest. Can’t have people burning out. Plus, we think you should have time to spend with family and whatnot. And you’ll be trainin’.”

“Training?”

“Yeah, learning how to fight and defend yourself. Survival skills and such,” I said, and she made a face. “Mandatory under my roof. You’re not a civilian as my claimant.”

“Wait, do you think we’re going to be attacked? I thought this was safe,” Reagan said.

“It is,” I said with a sigh. Why did so many people fight me on this? “Still doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Especially in these uncertain times. We don’t run that risk. You don’t like it, leave.” Reagan rolled her eyes. “Hey, you wanted to make a wager, and you lost.”

“All right,” Reagan said. “You really held back on the dice roll surprise stipulations, huh?” I glanced over at her, and she smiled. “Gonna keep coming up with new ways to parade that win around? Should I keep a list?”

“Please do,” I retorted, and then I grinned. “See, I knew you could keep up. Come on.”

I took her out into the brisk spring morning, making our way down the hill, past her family’s house, and into town. Reagan’s breath caught as we turned the corner.

Two massive and ancient Douglas firs rose into the sky, the twin guardians of Winfyre. Ahead of us, nestled in a large clearing, was Cobalt. Made up of small cabins and houses, it was snug but not crowded. We’d created it to be in harmony with the land around it.

From our feet, the road sloped down and wove through the main shopping and dining area. People were walking among houses, carrying baskets and bags, calling good mornings. Dogs, chickens, and children ran underfoot, while vendors opened shop, and scents rose in the air.

“How long have you been here?” Reagan asked.

“Since it happened,” I said. “There was nothing but a few summer homes and this small fishing village, half the houses boarded up. We spruced them up and converted a good deal of them. Everyone chipped in. I gotta hand it to these folks—very few people complained.”

“I love the grass roofs,” Reagan said. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

“Eco insulation,” I explained. “Sod roofs are an old Nordic invention.”

The sod-roofed houses looked like something out of a fairy tale, covered in a thick layer of waving grass. Tristan had seen this type of home once while abroad and figured out how to duplicate it. Thanks to him, we’d made it through our second winter with almost no complaints of cold houses.

We passed through the market, bustling now, and several people nodded or waved hello. Shifters slunk around the edges and kept an eye on things.

Finally, we exited the town, and the number of houses dwindled before it gave way to gardens and wilderness, then the main gates of Winfyre.

"You didn't get to see this yesterday since Fallon brought you to that little eastern gate. This is the southern one, the main one.” In the shade of the trees, a small canvas tent had been set up, while next to us was a large barracks among the trees. “Xander didn’t want to build anything too close.”

“Xander?” Reagan asked.

“Head Command. Makes the call when we can’t agree,” I said, and Reagan nodded. “Don’t worry. There’s not going to be a quiz or anything.”

“Is there a school? For the kids?” she asked.

“Sort of,” I said. “We take turns teachin’ the kids and answerin’ their questions. A couple of people have volunteered, teaching ’em basic skills, reading and whatnot. But when it comes to survival skills and shiftin’, that’s all Rett Deacon. He’s the civilian liaison.”

We continued on, while I occasionally pointed out something of interest or Reagan answered a question. All too soon, it was nearing lunch, and I had somewhere to be.

“Take the rest of the day off,” I said. “If you need anything in the market, use my name. They’ll put it on my tab.” I hesitated. “Go see your family, but try to enjoy Winfyre, too. Get to know it. Although without me, people are going to mob you.”

“You’ve been protecting me this whole time?” she teased.

“In a manner of speaking,” I said.

“What should I say about you if they ask?” Reagan asked.

“Oh,” I said and rubbed the back of my neck. “Word’s probably out that I claimed you, huh?”

“Yes, that. But you’re a leader here, and I don’t want to say anything that would cause an issue.” She paused. “Or disparage you. What if they ask me for things? Or opinions?”

“This isn’t a prison, Reagan—you can speak your mind.” I blew out a breath. “But it would be better if you could say nice things. Keep morale up. People need that. And each other.”

“Of course,” Reagan said. “I’ll keep quiet, then. See you later, Luke.”

It was strange to walk away from Reagan. When I turned back, only to check and make sure she hadn’t gotten lost already, maybe see what direction she’d gone, she was watching me walk away. A slow smile spread across my face.

And I’ll be damned…

She smiled, too.