Free Along Came a Wolf (The Yellow Hoods, #1): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale by Adam Dreece Page A

for being exactly on time. She studied him and her suspicion became concern. “I’ll put some tea on. I can see you’ve had a busy day. Is everything okay?”
    Nikolas gave a tired smile. “Yes. Yes, my dear. You don’t need to worry about me.”
    Father and daughter entered the log cabin. Jennifer dropped the firewood in the pile beside the wood stove. She took a moment to warm her hands by the fire, and then filled the kettle and placed it on the blackened iron stovetop.
    Nikolas pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. He loved their cozy, little home. It had two bedrooms and a main room. It was decorated with wonderful crafts. It radiated creativity and love. 
    Jennifer took after her mother. Nikolas and Isabella had moved a couple of times before settling nearby, and each time Isabella had managed to turn a house into a home within days. 
     “Hello? Papa?” Jennifer attempted to hand her dad a cup of tea for the second time.
    “Oh, sorry,” he said, smiling, accepting it carefully with both hands.
    “You know, Papa, you are a bad liar—at least to me,” she said, sitting down.
    He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?” He paused. “Well, Tee and I, we had some… excitement, today.”
    “Indeed. You’re quite distracted.” She took a first sip of her tea.
    Nikolas looked at his own cup. “I fear, for some reason I cannot explain, that what has happened is not over.”
    “What happened, Papa?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In Sheep's Clothing
     
    A short, balding man in his fifties picked up his worn medical bag from the guard’s inspection table. Nervous sweat pooled at the base of his hairline.
    “Everything looks fine, doctor. You may enter,” said the young guard, unlocking the thick wood and steel door leading to the jail cells. “This guy gets too much attention, if you ask me. After all these weeks, he’s still getting people dropping by. Most guys only get one visitor, if any, before they’re shipped off… or, you know, executed ,” said the guard with a slicing gesture.
    The doctor forced a smile, making his round face look awkward. “Special circumstances,” he replied as he hesitantly entered the small hallway. 
    “We moved everyone else to the jail across the street. You never know with a guy like this one. He’s smart,” said the guard as the doctor disappeared and the door closed behind him.
    At the end of the hallway were three sparsely furnished jail cells. LeLoup was in the middle one, lying on its straw mattress and whistling.
    Once the bolt of the heavy door was locked back into place, LeLoup turned to see who they had let into his cage—what fresh meat had they thrown him? It had been a couple of days since he’d had a visitor who wasn’t a guard. 
    “Hello doc—oh, it’s you. The other doctor,” said LeLoup, pretending to be disappointed.
    The doctor looked around, uneasy.
    LeLoup continued, “If you’re wondering if there is an echo in here, there is—from the stone walls. There’s nothing to drink up the sound. It’s why I like to whistle here—the echo. It does give the place an eerie feel, though. Of course, they wouldn’t want it to feel like home, now would they? It would spoil the experience.” 
    He sat up and stretched. “But you know all this already, don’t you? It’s not your first visit.”
    The doctor tried to hide behind his bag as he made his way to LeLoup’s iron-barred cell door.
    “How… how do you feel, Monsieur LeLoup?” asked the doctor, adjusting his glasses. 
    In the weeks that had passed since LeLoup had been moved to the jail from the hospital, he had neither shaved nor brushed his hair. He looked like a wild man.
    LeLoup’s main doctor had stopped visiting a couple of days ago, saying everything was fine. When he’d last left the jail, he’d been complaining about how the Magistrate wanted LeLoup kept in such good health—a waste of the doctor’s precious time given the prisoner was going to be executed