Refuge by Karen Lynch

that’s
it, I swear.”
    Tristan’s laugh took me by surprise. “Celine
always did have a flair for the dramatic. She is a skilled warrior
and a good trainer . . . most of the time.”
    “I must have gotten her during one of her off
times.”
    “Celine is . . . well, let’s just say she has
a better rapport with men than other women.” He set his glass down.
“I can speak to her if you’d like.”
    “No, I can handle it on my own. She’s no
worse than some of the girls I knew in high school.”
    His eyebrows rose. “High school sounds like a
rather perilous place.”
    “You have no idea.” I went back to my salad,
feeling a little more at ease. Tristan was surprisingly easy to
talk to, and it almost felt like I was hanging out with a cousin
instead of a grandfather.
    “How are your new pets doing? Sahir tells me
you named them.”
    “Hugo and Woolf. They’re really smart and
already know some commands.” I was always happy to talk about the
hellhounds. “I just wish they didn’t have to stay locked up in that
cage all the time. They need fresh air and space to run
around.”
    His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure that is a
good idea. We don’t know if we can trust them not to kill the first
person they see.”
    “I go in the cage with them every day and
they are gentle with me.”
    “They have imprinted on you and you are their
master now. They would never harm you.”
    “They’ve stopped growling at Sahir when I’m
there.” I leaned forward earnestly. “I really believe they just
need to get used to being around people. I can’t bear to think of
them locked up for the rest of their lives.”
    “I’ll talk to Sahir and see what he says. I
cannot make any promises.”
    “Thank you.” I was confident that once he saw
they could be trusted around others, he would give them more
freedom. “You have miles and miles of woods out there, perfect for
them to run in. I could take them out every day without bothering
anyone.”
    Tristan laid down his fork. “It is not a good
idea for you to be out in the woods alone.” I started to protest,
and he said, “I know you are unhappy with the restrictions placed
upon you, but we are only trying to keep you safe after everything
you’ve been through.”
    “But everyone thinks I’m dead, including the
vampires.”
    “You will have to forgive me for being a
little overprotective. I believe that is a grandsire’s right. Just
be patient a little longer until we can be certain this Master is
not still searching for you. We are monitoring activity around
Maine, and so far it is very quiet there.”
    “I could have told you how quiet it is in
Maine.” I shrugged at his questioning look. “I have werewolf
friends there, remember? Anyway, trust me; no one wants the Master
to think I am dead more than I do. I can’t even go for a walk
without one of the warriors escorting me back in irons.”
    He laughed. “I’ll tell them to lay off the
irons. In the meantime, why don’t I arrange for a day out for you?
How about a day trip to Boise? With supervision, of course.”
    “Okay,” I conceded, excited about the
possibility of a change of scenery, even if it was only for a
day.
    He got up to take away our salad plates, and
my eyes wandered around his apartment, which had a decidedly
masculine décor. It made sense since he had been a widower for so
long. There were some softer touches like a pale-blue throw on the
back of the couch and a number of framed photos and paintings on
the mantle and walls. One photo in particular caught my eye, and I
knew immediately who the blond woman was because I had seen the
faded picture of her that my dad used to carry in his wallet.
Madeline was stunningly beautiful – even Celine could not compare –
and the happy smile she wore did not reconcile with my image of the
woman who had hurt me and my dad so much.
    Questions that had hovered in the recesses of
my mind for weeks finally pushed their way to the forefront. My