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January |
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January |
Half way to the parking garage, Fen’s cell phone rang. He glanced down at the number before answering it. Fen didn’t recognize the number but answered it, anyway. Maybe Loki had finally found his senses and wanted to come home. Fen could only hope.
“Hello? Can I speak to Mr. Fenris Volfe, please?”
“Speaking.” Fen cradled his phone against his shoulder as he headed to the parking garage.
“This is Andrew at the Seattle Animal Shelter and I was just calling to let you know that we found your dog.” The voice on the other end of the phone paused and Fen could here papers being flipped or shuffled.
“My dog?”
“You have a black Shepard mix named Loki, right? His license has you listed as his owner…”
“Yeah, he’s…mine.” Fen didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t like he could tell this Andrew guy the truth. Well, he could but that might cause more problems then it solved.
“We found him wandering near the Seattle Center.”
“What?”
“He was in the street near the Seattle Center playing havoc with the traffic. You know there’s a leash law, right?”
“I-I know… I’ll be more then happy to pay the fine. Is he okay?”
“He’s dirty and his paws are a little raw but other than that he’s all right.”
Fen sagged against his truck in relief. Thank the gods. Loki was safe and sound. He was also going to get an earful about running off and getting picked up by animal control, but that could wait until after Fen got him home and made sure that he was in one piece. “I’ll be right there to pick him up. The shelter’s on Fifteenth, right? Near Newton?”
“That’s the place.”
“Great!” Fen hopped in his truck, thanking the goddess of small favors for his luck. It was damned fortunate that Loki had been wearing his tags when he left their apartment. The dog license had been more of a joke than a precaution but Fen was glad he got it for Loki. He would have never found his lover otherwise. The pound was the last place Fen would ever think to find a runaway werewolf.