69 | NEW PLAN

I make it to the Coven quickly, only to find one of my cousins is outside, waiting for me.

I hover by the edges of the clearing when I see him pacing in front of the closed doors of the main building. He doesn’t angry and his pacing is measured, gait calm, almost like he’s counting each step before turning on his heel and marching the same amount of steps in the other direction. I let him go back and forth for a minute, tracing the lines of his face as the worries that this may be the last time I see him in-person float through my head.

Eventually, though, I have to face him. With a deep breath, I tip my head up and close the distance between us. He sees me almost as soon as I start moving, sky-blue eyes flickering over and locking on me as I approach. He turns to face me completely, changing his trajectory to intercept me.

“Wisty,” Ryker meets me at the door. Up close, I can see he’s looking better, less haunted and cold. His strawberry-blond hair is cropped and looks freshly washed, the strands a little darker and clumped together in spots. His camo-t-shirt and cargo pants are clean, neat, and wrinkle-free. I smile when I reach him, the tension of the meeting with Nikki draining from me at last.

“Ry, hey.” I stop a foot away, wanting to greet him with a hug - the way I used to when we were little - but barely restrain and bottle-up the urge. Things between us are better than they were a year ago, but they’re no where near the way things used to be. “Whatcha doin’ here so early?” I ask instead, wrapping my arms around myself to keep them still.

“Parri mentioned you need a proper liaison between you and the…” He looks at the Coven. I can see a thousand scathing comments weighing on his tongue, but he doesn’t utter a single foul one of them. “Court?” The word sounds like a question, like even he’s not sure of the term. “I came early to talk to you about it, before Craven gets here.” He adds the last bit with a pointed look.

“Ah.” I murmur, a tightening in my chest making the word sound more like a puff of air than an actual term for understanding.

Ry’s come to volunteer before Craven can. Ryker being the calmer, more rational of the two…and you know…not a once-psychotic-killer-who-is-still-a-shell. For a second I just stare into my cousin’s light blue eyes, seeing that he’s come a long way in the last few months…but even he isn’t at one-hundred-percent yet. Then again, it’s not like I have a choice. Ry is right. Between my two cousins, Ryker is the best option for the mission as spy/liaison to the Royal Vampire Court. Some part of me just wishes there was another, one I don’t have fond memories of and still care for.

“I know what I’m doing, Wisty.” Ry offers me a tight smile. One that actually reaches his eyes. I smile back, feeling a tiny pang of fear and sadness in my heart as I nod once in agreement, my resolve firm and unshakeable now.

“Well, then… I guess all I’ve got left to say is: good luck.” I try not to sound so worried or uncertain as I say this. Ryker’s small smile grows a little and he quirks an eyebrow at me.

“So…you going to let me in?” He asks after another minute of us just standing there.

“Right. Yeah.” I laugh, instantly relaxing at his nonchalance. I gesture for him to come inside with me - out of the crisp chill of the air outside. My cousin hesitates, looking at the two gatekeepers warily as they materialize silently and open the doors for us as I approach. He follows me into the foyer, pausing in the hall to take an experimental sniff. Though he’s been here before, it’s been a while and it shows. His nose wrinkles as a barely restrained look of disdain flickers across his face. I laugh again, linking our arms and pulling him deeper into the compound. “You’ll get used to it,” I encourage him, noting how he relaxes a bit after the casual contact and shuffles along with me as I lead him up the stairs to my office to give him a brief run-down of Court hierarchy.

I also tell him about everything that happened to Mikyle and my own experiences in Court. My cousin bristles at the news of me being attacked by the King - with no consequence to him. I have to remind him that he’d be a spy - and not to engage with the vampire King while he’s there. Last thing we need is to get into another pointless war with a supernatural faction.

We’re going over some of the terminology when Craven strolls in, an hour later. He looks almost as put-together as Ry, but where Ryker’s face is clean-shaven, Craven’s got some stubble growing out in the same shade of sandy-blonde as the locks he’s got in a man-bun. I can see no evidence of fresh scarring on his body, but the ones around his throat have become part of his tan skin and are covered by fresh ink around the Tracker tattoo that marked him as part of the old Elite team.

“*Et tu Brute*?” Craven deadpans to Ryker, sending us both rather annoyed and scathing looks. Looks that hold no real malice but have his nose twitching. I smirk at my cousin at the near comical way his nose keeps twitching, as if his wolf is still unsettled with the scents of vampire. Ry just shrugs at our older cousin.

“Youth before age, old man.” Ryker quips, earning him a snarl from Craven. But it’s one of those half-hearted snarls you get from the older Wolven towards younger family members - not one where you’d think there’s about to be a fight to the death.

“Respect your elders, boy.” Craven grumbles at him on his way over to me. “Wisty, you gonna run me through the other job?” He plops down in the nearest chair, crossing his arms and settling into an almost sliding-out-of-the-seat slump. I’m so used to him sitting in a corner - with two walls at his back and angled where he can watch over the whole room…bu he seems content with leaving his back to the door.

“Yeah, I mean,” I blink in surprise at his calm and casual demeanor. He’s almost…*tame* now. It kind of unnerves me to see the two so relaxed - at the same time I feel nostalgic string in the back of my head tugging at my memories. Something in my chest warms and reforms to see the two like this. Maybe they’re not as broken as I thought. “You should hear what the job entails before accepting-”

“Paris said something about spying and wandering around a few territories in the West.” Craven gives a one-shouldered shrug. “I could use a little road trip.” He tells me with a grim smirk. “The Pack’s not as interesting as it used to be.”

“Trying to Track a Hunter’s not exciting enough?” I ask with a smirk. Craven’s smirk falters a little, a crease forming between his eyes.

“That Hunter’s one savvy sonofabitch.” Craven allows after a second, pursing his lips as a thoughtful expression comes over his face. “It’s clear they don’t want to be found. And won’t be Tracked until they want to be found.” He glances at Ryker. “Even with Ryker’s blood-hound nose, he evaded us. But Paris is aware, has patrols combing every inch of the territory around the clock.”

“To be honest, I think it’s better that way,” Ryker adds. I glance at my cousin questioningly. “The Pack’s been a little aimless since Grams. The patrols have given a bunch of them stuff to focus on. A purpose.” I smile at the echo of the words Paris had used a while back when she’d given me permission to have Ry and Craven help out more.

“Okay, then.” I feel my smile become a little somber as I return my attention to Craven. “We’ve been trying to get information spanning the country on as many supernatural factions as we could, but both Nikki’s people and mine aren’t having much luck in the West.”

“West…being where exactly?” Craven nods slowly, his eyebrows coming together to form a crease in his forehead. “What parts of the ‘west’?” He rephrases the question.

“Um…all of it.” I laugh a little, wincing as Craven’s expression warps into one of pure annoyance. “Like everything past the Mississippi.” I add, running a hand through my curls nervously. Craven takes a long, deep breath, running one of his hands over his face and rubbing the hints of stubble smattered across his jaw.

“What’s the time-frame?” Craven grits out, eyes narrowed.

“Um, as-soon-as-possible.” I give him a humorless flash of my teeth.

“Hm.” Craven nods slowly, his face going blank as he sits up in his chair. He takes another one of those deep breaths and slowly gets to his feet, stretching briefly. “I’d better get going then.” He turns to look to Ryker. “Coming back with me to let Parri know?” He asks him with a tip of his chin. Ryker glances at me once before following our cousin’s motions and getting up.

“I’m guessing you’re going to want frequent updates - either video or voice - to know we’re still alive?” Ryker asks me with a slight grimace.

“That would be preferred.” I agree with a quick nod. “Every morning or ever night - but at least once a day. If I don’t hear from either of you, I’ll come looking for you myself.” I warn.

“Aw, she *cares*.” Craven croons in a snarky tone, wrinkling his nose at me. I roll my eyes and fight a near-hysterical laugh that threatens to choke me. Instead it comes out like a strangled whine. Craven’s eyes soften a degree and he just nods, his lips pressing into a grim line. “Understood.”

“We’ll be fine, Wisty.” Ryker tries to reassure me and comes over to clap a hand on my back. Craven nods to me in agreement.

“We’re well-trained, cousin. You, of all people, are aware of that.” Craven’s voice is a little distant as he says that, the tiniest hints of regret coloring his tone. I try not to blanch as I recall just how true that statement is.

“Off you guys go, then.” I give them both a small nod as I try to remind myself that these two can handle themselves. But it doesn’t do much to dampen the nervous knots in my stomach as I silently pray that this isn’t the last time I’ll see my cousins face-to-face.