Wolf's Grace

Chapter 184: Grace: Bad Luck

Someone cranks the volon the TV, drowning out the rain beating down on the RV's thin roof.

Andrew had worked stechnological magic earlier, casting from his phone to Lyre’s television. Now the

children are hypnotized by a movie about people living in a world made entirely of blocks. It's strangely soothing

to watch, even if | don’t fully understand the appeal.

All four kids have crammed themselves onto the daybed, a tangle of limbs and blankets. Poor Ron is smothered,

with Sara and Jer on either side of him and Bun in his lap, but they all look content.

It's sweet.

Across from them, I'm wedged between the arm of the couch and Caine’s solid warmth. He's not touching me,

but there’s barely an inch of space between us at any given point.

Andrew should be the only one without a living being taking up space beside him, but both Sadie and the cat

have elected to use him as a bed.

It's all very... cozy.

And cramped.

Incredibly cramped.

This camper was not made for a giant family, a tagalong, and two large animals.

My phone vibrates against my thigh, and | stifle a groan. Probably another message from Wrath or Madness,

beggingto explain how | got into their chat. I've been ignoring them for quite stime, but they haven't

given up.

| pull out the device, already planning on discarding the notifications, but freeze when | see Lyre’s non my

screen.

Finally, a response.

[LYRE: Just ignore any messages on Divinity Connect. It might be hard to reach us for a few days. Just wait until |

contact you again.]

Or not.

Not only is her text rather unhelpful—I’'m already ignoring the messages and still don’t know if | should be

worried about these people—the latter half of it makes my chest feel heavy.

[GRACE: Are you okay? What's happening?]

No response. The message shows delivered but not read... again.

She was just textingtwo seconds ago!

| frown at the screen, trying to decide if | should be worried. | mean... it's Lyre.

Bun squawks at the TV, and the kids suddenly shout, "Chicken jockey!", with all of them erupting into laughter.

Bun giggles, though she seems to be more amused by their reaction than to understand whatever joke just

occurred on-screen.

| don’t get it, either.

"Is something wrong?"

Caine’s voice startles me. | hadn't noticed him leaning closer, his sharp gaze catching my screen. | exit the

messages so fast | nearly drop my phone, feeling strangely like I'm cheating.

Shit. This whole keeping-Divinity-Connect-a-secret thing is going to givea heart attack before I hit twenty.

"Fine," | say, too quickly. His storm-gray eyes look unconvinced, and | backpedal. "I mean—Lyre just messaged.

Says it might be hard to reach them for a while."

His expression shifts, subtle enough for someone who hasn’t spent hours studying his face to miss it. A slight

tightening around his eyes, the barest twitch of his jaw.

"Did she say why?"

| shake my head. "No."

He grunts, unsurprised. After all, crypticity (is that a word?) is her nature.

He's quiet for a moment longer, processing. Then he rises from the couch, phone already in hand, and walks

down the narrow hallway toward Lyre’s bedroom.

It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s probably calling Jack-Eye.

On screen, one of the characters builds a blocky tower at impossible speed while Sara mumbles something about

ingredients. Jer hisses at her to hush.

They're so quiet, it’s a little unnerving.

Was TV the secret to peace all along?

I should feel settled by this moment of calm, but Lyre’s message nags at me. | check my phone again. Still no

response.

What could be happening to make her unreachable? Between the strange sounds during the last call and this, |

have a bad feeling.

She did say thedoesn’t give them missions they can’t handle, but | can’t help the worry.

Heavy footsteps announce Caine’s return. He settles back beside me, a tiny bit closer than before. His arm

stretches along the back of the couch, fingers just inches from my shoulder.

It's tempting to lean in.

But then there's the whole going-into-a-coma problem, and sanity prevails. For once.

"Jack-Eye isn’t answering," he says, voice pitched low. "But it’s not necessarily cause for concern. They probably

require rasilence."

He doesn’t sound worried, which should reassure me. If anyone knows Jack-Eye’s habits, it's him. And if anyone

can handle themselves in a dangerous situation, it’s Lyre.

| release a long breath and nod. "Right. Of course."

My phone screen lights up again—another notification from Divinity Connect. | silence it without looking,

suddenly very tired of immortal beings and their .

"You've been getting a lot of messages," he observes, his eyes on my phone. He sounds... displeased.

Stiffening, | slip it into my pocket. "Just spam."

* kK

The next day, Caine and Andrew conspire to drive farther than Lyre’s daily recommendation. We argue for half an

hour, but they win in the end.

The heavy storm passed with little fanfare or damage, as if mocking all of us for taking precautions—but

another's on its way by the next evening, as if chasing us down. If we only go the recommended miles, we'll be

stuck in the storm again.

In the end, nine hours later, we're exhausted but right at the edge of Blue Mountain territory, in a familiar

Walmart parking lot.

And Andrew's weathershows a familiar sight: a storm, ready to hit by midnight. There's even a state of

emergency announced by the human government.

Kind of feels like we did something pointless, though this leg of the trip went without any strange hitches. No

emergency stops, no throwing up—thanks to the motion sickness pills Andrew grabbed from the store—and, best

of all, the children slept for over half the trip.

The second half was spent listening to Jer and Sara play strange car games. It started with | Spy and ended with

them using their hands as puppets and pretending to be the narrators of various cars’ lives.

Sof their storylines were not only convoluted, but disturbing. The worst was probably the semi-truck, a well-

meaning, hard-working man, and the white sedan cheating on him with a red pickup truck.

It makeswonder what things Owen allowed them to watch on TV.

But more importantly...

| point at Andrew’s screen, announcing severe thunderstorm warnings after ten p.m. "Didn't we cthis far to

avoid this storm?"

"Yes." He turns off the car without another comment, and doesn’t seem nearly as surprised as | am.

| frown. "Were you expecting this?"

He shakes his head. "Caine did."

Huh.

Predictably, Jer shoves between our seats to announce, "I have to pee so bad, my entire head might float away."

His minor emergency becomes our new focus, the details of the storm pushed aside as the boy bounces

impatiently in his seat.

By now, we're almost professional at getting everything ready.

Fifteen minutes later, Jer still has his head and everyone's inside, able to rest, relax, or stretch their legs as

desired.

Everyone except me, outside with

Sadie on her leash and waiting for

her to potty. The goldenyetiver

sgems IhtéAt on sniffing every inch of

grass before relieving herself, though,

no matter how many times and

different ways | urge her to pee. The

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think oh§s § rake about two feet

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The moment Caine steps outside, | can feel the air change. Without looking back, | ask the question stewing in

my head.

"Did you know the storm would follow us?"

His heavy steps pause, then he comes to stand beside me, frowning at Sadie.

She looks back at him and squats immediately.

My eye twitches. All that begging I did, and it only took Caine one look in her direction to make her go?

Meanwhile, he givesa strange look as he responds, "This storm isn’t following any normal weather pattern. |

felt it was worth testing."

| stare at him blankly. He just accepted the strange storm hunting us down like that? So easily? "You're so...

open-minded."

: ) . A

If it wasn't for Lyre pumping my brain

full of information on gods and

9 8a g ,

divinity and this strange| can

uninstall | waulghhavelabstmed

thede sions to be a strange

phenomenon of nature. Now | have

all sorts of strange conspiracy

theories crowding my mind, like

wondering if Wrath or Madness are

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upset I'm ignoring their messages.

Flash flood warnings definitely sound like they would fall under a petty Wrath, right?

And Madness—well, a storm hunting people down certainly sounds like insanity to me.

But Caine doesn’t know anything about Divinity Connect or the conversation I held with Lyre, much less my

identity as an Anchor.

And yet he says simply, "Hard not to be after the first storm."

I nod slowly. Then again, he’s the Lycan King. His wolf appears out of thin air. Maybe these types of supernatural

goings-on aren't as strange for him as they are for me.

As far as I'm aware, no wolf pack deals with bizarre issues like this.

"You really don’t think it’s strange?"

He takes Sadie’s leash from me, careful not to let our fingers touch. "Strange has becnormal these days."

Fair enough.

With Sadie’s business now complete, he motions forto go inside first.

But then she starts barking at something off to our left, at a row of parked cars.

A black cat suddenly darts out from beneath a car and dashes away.

I shiver. Aren't black cats bad luck?

"Con, Sadie. Let's go inside."