“I can’t imagine why,” Astaroth said dryly. “It’s not like you skewered their leader like a shish kebab during a so-called ‘recreational’ brawl.”
She glared at him. “I was saving you, thank you very much. And I didn’t mean to skewer him. I threw the stick pointy-end first by accident.” She shook her head and sighed dramatically. “Guess that dinner date with Kai is off.”
Astaroth stiffened. “You were going to go to dinner with him?”
“Not sure.” She shrugged. “I don’t get asked out much, and he was more polite than the usual creeps who try to feel me up at bars.”
Astaroth’s jaw flexed like he was grinding his teeth. “First off,” he said in a pissy tone, “that werewolf was a lout and not worthy of your attention. Secondly, who has been feeling you up in bars, and are their hands still attached?”
“Curious if I removed them?”
The furious look he shot her made her breath hitch. “If you didn’t, I will.”
Whoa. That was intense. And confusing. First he’d been upset about Kai hitting on her, and now he wanted to chop off the hands of anyone who sexually harassed her? She laughed awkwardly. “Why would you care about defending me? I’m your enemy, remember?”
“Why would you stab a werewolf to protect me?” he parroted. “I’m your enemy, remember?”
He had a point. Calladia’s cheeks heated as she remembered how turned on she’d been watching Astaroth fight and how instinctively she’d acted to save him. Whatever they were doing was nowhere near traditional enemy behavior.
“I’ll call the Red Deer,” Calladia said, changing the subject to avoid having to answer his question. “I need to give Bronwyn my card information to pay for our meal anyway, since we dined, decked, and dashed.” She pulled out her phone, relieved to see a few bars of service. She searched for the restaurant’s contact info, then dialed.
“The Red Deer, Bronwyn speaking.”
“Hey!” Calladia’s greeting was a tad too enthusiastic. “This is Calladia Cunnington. Um, this is awkward, but I forgot to close my tab—”
“You!” The dryad let out a stream of creative curses. “Do you know how much babying I had to do after you left? The way Kai was carrying on, you practically stabbed him in the heart. He was inconsolable until I dosed him with enough whiskey to sedate an elephant.”
Calladia cringed. “Is he okay? I really didn’t mean to stab him.”
“Oh, he’s fine.” Bronwyn snorted. “The wolves heal quickly, and I got paramedic training once I realized how often they were going to kick off in the restaurant. Thankfully, they pay for renovations, and Ranulf has a woodworking shop, so we never run out of furniture.”
“I’m glad Kai is all right,” Calladia said. Astaroth mumbled something that sounded like “I’m not,” but Calladia ignored him. “Let me give you my card info to pay for lunch.”
Once payment was sorted, Calladia asked Bronwyn about the next step to find Isobel.
“I looked up our notes, and it says go northeast until you see two mountains that look like boobs. The town of Griffin’s Nest is at the top of a hill, and after that, the road forks. You’ll take the right fork down into a valley. Cross the river, and when the road ends, hike due north at the bat sign and look for a red door.”
Calladia blinked. “That was way less cryptic than I thought it would be.”
Bronwyn’s exhale was loud. “Yeah, well, after the thirtieth time telling a confused tourist, ‘Seek nature’s motherly embrace, and where one might take flight, instead venture low,’ you get kinda sick of it.”
Before she hung up, the dryad gave a final warning.
“You really made an impression,” Bronwyn said. “I’m not sure if Kai wants to murder you or marry you on the spot, but keep an eye out, because the wolves are on the hunt.”
“Thanks, Bronwyn,” Calladia said. “I owe you one.”
After Calladia hung up, she looked at Astaroth. “Mountains that look like boobs,” she said. “Sounds easy enough.”
“Kai wants to marry you?” Astaroth sounded appalled. “For stabbing him?”
“You aren’t more worried about the murder bit?” Calladia asked, though she was pretty sure the dryad had been exaggerating.
Astaroth made a scornful noise. “As if he were capable of it. You’d kick his arse halfway to the moon.”