Chapter 10: Dean Again

On the fourth morning, Bram told us the cage under the Hollowmere pack house was empty.

"Somebody cut the lock," he said. "Rhys's wolves found it an hour ago. Dean's gone."

"With one arm," I said.

"With help."

Costa was already pulling on his boots.

"You stay inside the walls today."

"I told you I can leave any time I want."

"I know what you told me."

"Then you know that doesn't include being told to stay in."

He looked at me, and the corner of his mouth moved.

"Then walk with me," he said. "Along the river. Where I can see you."

We walked.

The path ran under the pines for a mile, down to the water, with sun coming through in stripes.

Neither of us mentioned the porch.

I could feel it, though, a low hum in my wrist every time his arm brushed mine, and I saw him feel it too.

"You can say it," I said. "That I kissed you."

"You kissed me. I kissed you back. I stopped."

"You stopped."

"That's the part I'm still working on," he said dryly.

I laughed.

Then I smelled it.

Old sweat. Blood. And under it, thin and sharp, the smell of silver.

Costa smelled it at the same moment.

He turned and shoved me sideways, hard, and something whistled through the air where my head had been.

A chain.

It hit a pine trunk behind us and wrapped itself around it, and silver links glittered in the needles.

Dean came out of the trees.

He looked terrible.

His right arm hung in a dirty sling and his face was gray.

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