Unbound

Chapter 42

The car Dmitri gave me was small and ancient, with crank windows and a heater that made noise when I turned it up too high. It didn't matter much; I'd be ditching it as soon as I made it across the border anyway. I was grateful that he'd given me a pair of Constance's gloves and a scarf, though. I preferred the cold to the high-pitched whine of the vents.

It was dark outside and the roads were slick with ice the farther north I drove. I kept both hands tightly on the steering wheel and tried not to imagine how uncomfortable Gabriel would be, driving in conditions like this. His eyes laser focused on the road, jaw taught, sitting straight up in the seat, and—fuck. I cranked the heat up, hoping the obnoxious sound would drown out my thoughts. When that didn't work, I counted the mile markers as I passed them on the highway.

We'd come up with a plan over the remainder of the whiskey and though I didn't have complete confidence it would work, the desperation in Dmitri's eyes was enough to convince me. He knew that the only other way to deal with the problem was to wipe out the entire settlement, which he was unwilling to do. This was also why, he explained, he hadn't given up its location to Gabriel: the whole place would have been ravaged in less than an hour had Castle wolves gotten their way.

My first idea, he shot down. I suggested going in as nothing more than a traveler seeking a place to settle. I would take my time, building trust and becoming a member of the community. I had done so somewhat successfully when I was sent to the Castle Pack, I could do it again. Eventually, I'd be able to get close to the right people and ask the right questions. It would take time, but I had nothing but.

But Dmitri wasn't satisfied with this. Not while the attacks were still ongoing. It was only a matter of time before the rogues got bolder, or grew in number, and made more aggressive moves. It was only a matter of time before more wolves were killed.

Instead, he suggested I approach them with half-truths. I, the majority human-blooded wolf, was fed up with being treated poorly and swapped between packs as though I were an object to be discarded. I'd ask them for safety, and in exchange would offer them information. I had to admit, offering a trade would seem more plausible than approaching them with a one-sided request.

"Give them some low-level details. Talk about our security posture, about how our guard rotation works. I'll have changed it by then anyway," Dmitri had suggested. "Just enough that they believe you."

He'd even given me a map of the Sawtooth guard posts and a roster of their soldiers to hand over for good measure. It didn't matter that both documents were outdated as of six months ago; they wouldn't know that. These weren't spies, he assured me. They were weapons manufacturers.

I stopped twice that night at rest stops to close my eyes, but I couldn't get myself to sleep. My body was too much on edge, my mind racing too quickly. My thoughts were erratic, jumping between Gabriel, my uncertain future, and the daunting task ahead of me. For a short while, I even worried whether Aubrey would hate me for not returning her car. It was parked at Dmitri's, but I didn't dare text her about it. At best, she would have come herself to talk me out of this. At worst, she would have gone to Gabriel. I couldn't risk it.

In the morning, starving, I pulled through a small town and found a place to stop for breakfast. It was good, but not as good as the Castle diner. Greasier. Gabriel would hate this. I dug my nails into my palm. It wasn't a good enough distraction.

As I pulled my coat on and counted out change, the spoon the waitress had left behind on the table gave me an idea.

When I asked, the waitress pointed me in the direction of the next town over, where I would find an antique thrift shop off the main road, on Crescent Drive. Three buildings down, I wouldn't miss the sign.

I followed her directions, and found it just as she described, nestled between a bar and a boutique.

"Let me know if I can help you find anything," a man called from behind the counter. I smiled politely before turning down the first aisle. This was the type of place I could lose myself in for an entire afternoon, picking up and putting down small trinkets and cracking open old books. For a moment, I let myself enjoy it. I sifted through a rack of old sweaters, all far too big for me, but they looked warm and smelled like tea and mint candy and someone's cozy attic. I wanted them all, but I chose just one, a thick, cream cable knit, and took it to the register.

"That it for you today?" The man asked.

"Actually, I was hoping you might have a set of silverware. Real silver, not that stuff they use now," I added, hoping to appeal to his good nature and love of antiques. It seemed to work, and he flashed a wide smile.

"I keep the real stuff back here." He bent down and rummaged below the counter for several moments before straightening up holding a wooden box. He opened it and showed me the tiny numbers stamped on the back of each piece. "925. Pure silver."

"Beautiful. How much?" Dmitri had given me an envelope of cash, and it was more than enough to cover the total. At least this way, I wouldn't be showing up empty handed.

The closer I drew to the border, the harder my stomach churned. I was beginning to regret the breakfast I'd eaten; I should have stuck with tea. In just a few short hours, I'd be trying to talk my way into a human settlement, bargaining my way into their good graces. Why did I think I could do this?

The answer was simple: it didn't matter whether I could or not. At this point, I had nothing left to lose. If this went wrong, I'd be okay with that. I could accept it. I'll at least be trying to do something. Otherwise, I'd just be withering away on Aubrey's couch or in the clinic storeroom.

It still felt like winter this far north, and the snow was thick on the ground. Deep drifts lined the sides of the highway like gates to the forest beyond. The streetlights came fewer and farther between as they flickered on at dusk. I pressed on, but the car handled poorly on the ice, so I could only drive so fast. I'd hoped to get there before dark, but it looked like I'd be spending one more night in the car.

I was exhausted, but I tossed and turned all night in the back seat. If I wasn't thinking about Gabriel, I was thinking about all the things that could go wrong with this plan.

Having been unable to sleep, I left the rest stop before dawn and made it the rest of the way across the border. I was aiming for mile marker seventeen, where Dmitri instructed me to ditch the car and traverse the rest of the way on foot. It would make me more sympathetic, he thought, if I showed up that way. Less of a threat.

He was right. Only a short way into the half-mile walk, my pants were soaked to the hip from wading through the snow and I was shivering under the giant sweater. The box of silverware was heavy in my backpack; I tried to take some of the weight off my shoulders by hanging onto the straps. With Dmitri's map burned into my mind, I stumbled in the direction of one of their outposts.

"Hey!" Finally, I heard a voice shouting at me. I certainly didn't resemble a threat by that point, but the man approaching me kept his shotgun leveled at my chest all the same. I dropped to my knees and raised my hands.

"I'm not armed," I called to him.

He regarded me for a moment before he lowered the gun and pulled down the gaiter that had been covering his face. "Who are you?" He demanded. "What are you doing out here?"

I tried to work some tears into my eyes. They stung in the cold. "My name is Kiera. I heard there was a community near here; I'm looking for a safe place to stay."