Chapter 869 Chapter 869
Foster flipped on the lumpy mattress and then shoved his pillow around the balled it up. His van was more comfortable than this bed was. Sighing, he flipped the covers off and stared at the ceiling. Kevan had gone two hours ago. He said it was better he went out in the dark because he didn’t blend well in his other form in areas like this. Foster was pretty sure he was a cheetah from the spot description he had given him. It was hard to translate his broken English into something he understood.
How long would he go out and look? Deva said Taggart and his men were good at finding people, so with a little luck, maybe he would find the location they were looking for.
He’d sat in the diner until four, and Orson hadn’t shown again. What if their only lead had been taken? What did he do then? He needed Cy to get here and do whatever they did to get information because he was failing at it. Honestly, how many more days could he sit at that diner without losing his mind?
He shoved himself up and propped against the pillow. He wasn’t going to sleep any time soon. An image of Ena popped into his head. Seeing her was the only perk to the whole deal. He’d noticed she wore low-cut boots to waitress in, but she moved silently. Gracefully. She was very observant, too; he’d also noted that. It was like she was looking around the whole place all the time without pause. It was hard not to get caught looking at her with her doing that. Her eyes were pretty, but there was something sad in them, and he wondered what it could be. His coyote stirred. “No, we’re not going out.” He shrugged. He’d leave the roaming to Kevan. He preferred early morning runs to middle-of-the-night ones. In areas like this his coyote wasn’t the biggest predator out there. He snorted, picturing some bear coming across a cheetah in this area. That would be funny to see. Of course, putting himself in front of large wild animals was something Foster worked hard to avoid.
The door burst open, and he swore his soul left his body and shot up to the ceiling.
Kevan came in and went over to the grocery bag and pulled out something. He’d bought his own, so Foster wasn’t going to object. As soon as he ripped the bag open, Foster knew it was pork rinds. He was more of a meat stick kind of guy himself. He watched Kevan chew the mouthful. He wanted to know what he found, but he also understood that starving feeling after a long run.
“Is very strange.”
Foster sat up straight. “What is?”
Kevan pointed to the door. “I find many, many scent. Some wild. Some no.”
He moved to the edge of the bed. “There are other shifters out there?”
“Yes. I no know the smell so I can no say what kind.”
Foster blew out a breath. He looked around and saw his phone on the dresser. “I’ll get Illias to check records and see if there are any clans near here.”
“This man who call. Is his clan?”
Picking up his phone, he shrugged. “I’m guessing yes, but without anything but a first name, we can’t check.” He started typing and then glanced at him. “A lot of clans stayed off the radar for years, so we may not have a record.”
“Radar? Is for plane, no?”
Foster grinned. “Yeah, it is. Uh, they hid, and there are no official records of them.”
“Ah. So no plane.”
Foster nodded. “No planes.” Someone better show up soon. If he only had Kevan to talk to it, he might fry his brain working out their communication. He sent the message and set the phone down. “Can you tell how many shifter types?”
Kevan sat down at the little table and picked up the large bottle of water. “Is hard to say. The earth is all the scent that come with warm days.”
Foster sat back on the bed. It was hard to differentiate in the spring when everything was thawing out all at once. “We’re you able to follow any of the shifter scents? Maybe which way they went or came from?”
“Is big—” he moved his hand around.
“Circle.”
“Yes. That. Circle. Many many.”
Foster blew out a breath. “So, essentially, we know nothing new.”
Kevan shook his head. “Is no true.” He held up the bag of pork rinds. “Is new for me and is tasty.” He grinned.
Foster shrugged. “I like meat sticks, myself.”
Kevan shook his head. “Is no taste like meat.”
Foster had never checked the ingredients and probably didn’t want to. “Do you know what those are?” He pointed to the bag in his hand.
Kevan looked at it. “Is pig.” He nodded. “Kevan like pig. His cat like to kill pig. They squeee loud, but tasty.”
Foster squeezed his eyes shut. Who thought it would be a good idea to send him to a farming area when his cat likes killing pigs? All the farmers better keep their barn doors closed he thought. His phone pinged.
Getting up, he checked it. And grinned. Illias had replied. Trying that sleep thing. You should too. I’ll look after coffee. He chuckled. “Illias is looking into any clans in this area.” He looked at him. “So, where are the rest of your team?”
Kevan chewed the mouthful of rinds. He shrugged. “I no ask.”
Foster looked at his phone, hoping someone needed to call him. It was going to be a long night.
“I go look at the places—” he circled his hand. “—that be here. I find—” He mumbled something and then held up three fingers. “I no know the word for this.”
“Three.”
“Yes. Three place that have shifter smell.”
Foster sat straighter. “A mix or?”
“I can no be sure. When is sun out we go drive and look.”
He was going to say no, but it was better than doing nothing. In his opinion, he’d perfected that. “Sure. Maybe we’ll get lucky and stumble on the place we’re here for.”
Kevan gave him a long look. “We go in car. No stumbles.”
“Heh. Right.” Foster nodded and then looked at the pillow. He wasn’t tired. “I’m going to see if there’s anything worth watching on the TV.”
Kevan got up and turned the chair so he could see the screen. “I hope is funny show. Kevan like funny show.”
Foster grabbed the remote and his phone and sat at the top of the bed again. Did he refer to himself in the third person in his own language, or was it the way he translated what he needed to say? He almost asked him, but when he looked over at him, he was opening another bag of pork rinds. There better be something worth watching. He clicked the TV on.