Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
I had to take advantage of her in her human form. “Are you by yourself all night?”
“No. Liddie and Sera take turns sleeping with me.”
I didn’t know either of those people. “In the same room?”
“Yeah.” She was so still, standing there. “They snore. They only wake up if you shake them hard.”
“I see.” That made me feel better, and it made a hell of a lot more sense than a child sleeping by herself all night, magical or not. “So one of them is in the room right now?”
She nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Where are you going?”
Duncan pawed at my feet, telling me to hurry up. “We’re going outside. I would invite you, but I think everyone is asleep, and I don’t know where Henri is.” Or anyone other than Franklin. “I’m scared to take you, and then we all get in trouble for not asking permission.” I didn’t think waking up a stranger in the middle of the night was a great idea either; Liddie and Sera probably wouldn’t appreciate it.
Wasn’t she grounded anyway?
The pale blonde didn’t say a word, and dang it, that made me feel bad. But I knew what it would look like to take a child that wasn’t mine out of their home in the middle of the night. How would I feel if someone did that to Duncan without my permission?
But even being aware of how complicated the situation was, and that I was doing the right thing, didn’t make me feel less crappy.
“I’ll try and talk to someone tomorrow about it. Should you be in bed? Duncan took a long nap earlier, and I don’t need a lot of sleep….” Oh, this child hadn’t been my fan before, and she still wasn’t. I could sense it, even though her expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry, Agnes. I’ll ask them about you coming out to do things with us—if we do anything—tomorrow. All right?”
The too-serious little girl stood there like the young ghost I’d initially thought she was.
Duncan pawed at me again, his front teeth biting my shoelaces and tugging at them. There wasn’t much more I could do now. “We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep good.” How could I feel this bad twice in a single day? I was on a roll.
“Night, Duncan,” the little girl called out.
Ouch. Well, I couldn’t blame her, but I would make it a priority to talk to someone about including her in activities I did with the donut, if she wanted, especially if she didn’t have anyone else.
Slightly deflated—at least I was—we turned and headed down the hall, and I waited until we’d made it to the front doors to finally peek back. Agnes was gone. That didn’t necessarily make me feel better, but I had an excited puppy who I could do whatever I wanted with, and I’d make it up to her if I could. In the meantime….
I pulled the ball I’d stuffed into my fanny pack out when we were far enough away from the house and tossed it underhanded. Duncan took off like a rocket after it, his tail bright in the shadows. He picked up the ball, glanced at me… and then he took off toward the trees.
“Dang it, Duncan!” I laughed, knowing I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it.
He did circles around a few trees, still holding the ball, and slowed down to let me catch him. When I did, I took the ball and tossed it again. Pure delight came off him as he went after it, saying, “Yes,” over and over again. That time, he brought it back, and I pretended to throw it, then took off running the other way instead.
“C’mon, slowpoke,” I egged him on, going around a trunk. He pounced on my heel and did a quick 180 turn so I could chase him. I did, or at least I tried. He was fast and only getting faster as he grew. “I’m gonna getcha!”
I wasn’t, but we could pretend.
Those short legs pumped even faster, going around a pine with wide lower branches before he dove into them as a shortcut.
Something caught my foot, making me lose my balance, and I landed on my knees with a “shit!” and an “ow!”
“You all right?”
Snapping my head up as I brushed off my knees—noticing my unraveled shoelace as the culprit—I didn’t know how I’d missed the figure coming from the direction of the parking lot. I hadn’t sensed him at all. There wasn’t a single outdoor light on, but every detail of the dark uniform covering his body was obvious. It took everything in me not to make a peep, not to make a face in reaction to the well-built man who had poured himself into black pants and a short-sleeved black polo that I knew didn’t have enough stretch in the material to have any business fitting him that well.