I walked over to the door, and stopped. No, I will not go to her, but she will come to me. She was nothing, but a slave and I had to be careful, so I would not breed suspicion among my pack.
"Steve, I want you to get that slave, Lorraine, into the general garden right now," I mind-linked.
I could hear a grunt, and then, and an affirmative hum. That was all I needed. I grabbed my cloak from the hanger, and draped it over my shoulders as I walked out of the room.
I took a longer route, but finally I got to the garden. She was standing with her back to me, wearing a cheap wool gown to fight off the morning cold. Her firm set of shoulders, made me note that it may be more than the cold that made it so unresponsive.
As if sensing my presence, she turned to me with remarkable agility. Her eyes were like a pair of coal, and somehow it made my heart tweak painfully.
