Page 20 of Relics of the Wolf

“That’s possible.” Duncan slowed when he reached his parking spot.

His van had a puzzling slump to it, but it wasn’t until he cursed and crouched by a front tire that I realized why. It was flat. They wereallflat.

“He let the air out?” I asked.

“The tire is slashed.” Duncan hurried around the van to check the others and groaned. “Theyallare.”

Alarm flashed in his eyes, and he lunged for the side door. Had he locked it when we left? I couldn’t remember and grimaced, imagining all of his fancy—and probably expensive—treasure-hunting equipment stolen or maimed.

The door was locked, and he jammed his hand into his pocket for his keys. The van was old enough to have manual locks, and it took him a moment to get in and look around.

“Nobody has been inside. That’s a relief anyway.” Duncan hopped back out and slumped against the side of the van. “What a bastard. You don’t attack someone’s woman, and youcertainlydon’t attack their automobile.”

“Or beat up their intern to steal their case.” I rubbed my face. “How did he even know about your van? I’m the one he recognized, and he was surprised to see me. I’m sure of it. It’s not like he was lying in wait for us.”

“No,” Duncan agreed, then returned to the sidewalk, sniffing again. But he shook his head. “I’ve lost the scent. The rain, I think. Unless…” He slipped between his van and the next car, sniffing toward the street. “Ah. I think he got a ride.”

“For a surly thug, he has a lot of buddies.”

“Indeed. Maybe we should askthemwhere he went.”

“You kicked one in the face and hurled another across the room. I don’t think they’ll be eager to share secrets with us.”

“Youcracked one on the head too.” Duncan still looked aggrieved about his van but managed an approving smile for me. The acknowledgment probably shouldn’t have warmed me, but it did. And I was more kindly inclined toward Duncan, as he’d put it, after he’d driven me down here and helped out. Too bad he’d ended up with his tires flattened.

“They won’t share secrets witheitherof us,” I said.

Eyes narrowed, Duncan looked down the pier in the direction of the bar. “Let’s try asking one of them anyway.”

“With your hand around his throat?”

“Unless you want to bribe them with chocolate bars.”

“They didn’t look like connoisseurs of fine foods.”

“So I shouldn’t bring the brisket, then?”

I shook my head. “They weren’t werewolves, right?” Even though I’d sensed people with power in the bar, mostly witch and warlock power, the bartender had been the only one with a lupine vibe. Those men might have been similar to the blond guy and taking a potion. Maybe theyalltook that potion.

“No.”

“They were abnormally strong though. Like our mugger.”

“I noticed when one shoved a pool table into my balls.”

“Oh, is that what he pinned? I noticed it took you a moment to recover and push the pool table back.” I eyed Duncan as we walked, again thinking about the strength that had required. I would have to consult the internet to know how many hundreds of pounds a pool table weighed, but I knew they weren’t light.

“Yes, it took me a moment to bite back an unmanly squeal of pain and gird myself sufficiently.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” The comment came out more flippantly than I meant, and in a softer tone, I repeated, “I really am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, but thank you. My mangled ballsespeciallythank you.”

“I hope your equipment wasn’t permanently damaged.” I smiled for his sake, thinking he might appreciate the joke. After all, he’d brought up hisfishing poleearlier.

“Don’t worry. My equipment and I heal quickly.”

“That’s a relief.”

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