Meredith.
The door to the van hissed open on its own, and I instinctively shifted upright. Three men stood outside—two of Draven's guards, flanking a tall man in a green-and-brown camouflage uniform. Human. Tanned skin, clean-shaven jaw, stern gaze.
He peered into the van and offered a formal nod. "Good afternoon."
His eyes scanned the interior quickly, like he was searching for something—or someone. Then he said, "Welcome to Duskmoor," and stepped away without further comment. The two werewolf guards followed him, and the door shut again with the same soft hiss.
Just like that, the search was over. No threats, no tension. Not that I was afraid of the human. I wasn't. I just didn't know what to expect from Duskmoor's security systems. But now that it was behind us, I let myself relax. For real, this time.
Moments later, the van vibrated softly as the engine roared back to life. We were moving again.
