Twenty-Sided Sorceress 3 - Pack of Lies by Annie Bellett Page B

horses knew a good thing when they saw it.
    The Henhouse Bed and Breakfast was a good thing. The house had that old country feel, lots of wood, handmade quilts on the beds, a big country kitchen with whitewashed cupboards, a giant gas stove, and an original riverstone fireplace with cooking hearth. The land and original ranch had been grandfathered into the River of No Return Wilderness area. The house and barn were relics of another time, slowly built on and updated by Rosie. I didn’t know how old she really was, but I was guessing she’d settled this land a long, long time ago.
    Dinner smelled delicious, some kind of thick, spicy game stew bubbling in a huge pot, and the yeasty, comforting scent of fresh-baked bread. I helped Harper set the huge dining table while Junebug, Levi’s owl-shifter wife, and Ezee bustled around the kitchen with Rosie directing with the efficiency of a drill sergeant.
    I knew from the looks I was getting that Ezee had told Levi and Rosie at the very least about the assassination attempt. We should have been eating outside on the huge porch, enjoying the last dying warmth of summer. No one said a word about us eating inside and I swallowed my own protests. If being in here kept me safer, it would keep them safer, too.
    As we bantered, bustled, and tried to stay out of each other’s way, I felt at home, almost forgetting that a giant target was painted on my back.
    Ezee snagged a roll from the basket as Junebug brought it out to the table. The tiny woman admonished him, her amber eyes flashing with laughter as he pretended to put the roll back and instead tossed it to Max at the last moment.
    “We’re about to eat, and I think I hear our guest coming in,” Junebug said. She grinned and ruined her stern look, shoving her long blond hair away from her face as she tried to leap up and snag the roll. Levi caught her waist and lifted her in a smooth motion and she snagged the roll from midair. She smiled up at him as she returned it to the basket and, bending, he kissed the tip of her nose.
    Nez Perce punk mechanic and tiny blond hippy. Levi was all sarcastic humor and moody edges, Junebug smiles and earthy mothering that rivaled Rosie’s. If the world had room for their love in it, maybe there was hope for me, too. I pushed away the weird longing that rose up inside. I was getting maudlin in my old age, apparently. Introspection had never been my strong suit.
    I heard the front door open and turned, pulling on my magic for a moment as the back of my neck prickled.
    A slender Japanese man entered, pausing in the doorway. He had a camera bag slung around his neck. The guest. I let go of my magic, sensing nothing off about him. He hadn’t triggered any of my wards, so he was human as well. Just a guy.
    I smiled at him and Rosie emerged from the kitchen.
    “Please, Mr. Kami, come in,” she said, bowing politely as she wiped her hands on her apron.
    “I do not wish to intrude,” he said in accented but very fluent English. “This is your family time.”
    “You aren’t intruding. Please join us for dinner.” Rosie smiled at him and the small man smiled back, unable to resist her charm.
    We made introductions all around, and everyone settled in. For a few minutes peace reigned as food was passed around and dished out. I looked around the table and felt something, like a small chip of myself, settle in my heart. Family.
    The warm feeling was only slightly dampened by remembering what always seemed to happen to my families.
    I found myself studying Mr. Kami, who was seated across the table and one down from where I was. His face was lined enough to place him in his forties at least, with his hair pulled into a topknot that reminded me of old samurai movies. He wore loose black pants and a long-sleeved dark green shirt. He’d hung his camera bag off the chair behind him.
    There was nothing unusual about him. His face was bland, almost forgettable. His eyes were dark, though not as dark as mine.