Eye of the Tempest
“He looked very happy sticking his head out the window over my shoulder, from where we’d coaxed him to jump into the very back of Caleb’s SUV. His soft fur against my cheek should have been comforting, but any such emotions were mitigated by the fact that he was panting, long ropes of saliva dripping from his mouth, and occasionally barking at passing street signs. In other words, everything he did reminded me that the man I’d come to rely on was no longer lurking inside that dog. There was only... kibble and slobber. Lots and lots of slobber. As if on cue, from the seat beside me, Blondie apparated a handful of tissue and passed them over. She’d already apparated herself a long-sleeved T-shirt to wear over her wifebeater, undoubtedly not wanting to turn mortal heads. It was still well chilly here in Maine, despite spring nipping at Rockabill’s heels. “Thanks,” I mumbled, as she gave me one of her disconcerting winks. “Where should we head?” Caleb asked, his massive ram’s horns raking the ceiling of the SUV as he turned to look at Iris.MoreLess
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