Page 38 of Relics of the Wolf

“I can envision you at their table.”

“My ancestors were druids, not wizards.” Bolin sniffed disdainfully before taking another drink.

“They looked like they would be interested in word origins. One had a wand. If you made friends, maybe he would use it to zap the rogue birds turning your luxury car into a port-a-potty.”

“Funny. Have you started construction on this faux artifact?”

“Not yet. Is there any material that would be better to use than others? For glow? I’ve got carpentry tools and some experience there, but artifacts aren’t usually made out of wood. My metallurgy skills are much more limited, and ivory-carving isn’t something I’ve tried.” I didn’t even know if one could legally buy ivory anymore. “I’m not a practiced craftswoman, so I’m a little concerned about my ability to create something that includes a realistic wolf head. I might have to hire someone who can carve or sculpt.” I winced, having few envelopes left with money in them for the month. Nothing had been budgeted for hiring artists.

Bolin listened to my meandering musings with a bland expression on his face. After another sip, he asked, “Do you want me to go home and 3D-print something for you?”

“Uhm, would that be… realistic?”

I’d heard of the technology, of course, but it wasn’t anything the apartment complex needed, so I hadn’t looked into it.

“More realistic than you chiseling a wolf head out of wood scraps, I’m sure.” Bolin rolled his eyes.

Once more, I nobly held back my snark, though I did envision myself skipping around his SUV later and sprinkling birdseed on it. “If you could make something realistic, I would appreciate it.”

“Sure. I can go get it started now. I’ve got a row of dragons and spaceships lined up in my room that I made and painted.”

I smirked at him. “Iknewyou would fit in at the D&D table.”

“Funny,” he said again.

“Yup. I’m thinking of starting a side-hustle at a comedy club.”

Shaking his head, Bolin removed the carefully placed owls and drove off.

Maybe I should have asked him how long it would take to 3D-print a wolf head. I worried that Mom’s illness limited the amount of time we had. Further, if whoever had requested the wolf artifacts wasn’t a local, the ones that had been gathered might be shipped off to who knew where.

An image of Chad on a dock in Costa Rica, having a package delivered into his hands, floated through my mind. I didn’t know if he was behind this—I doubted he would be able to hire alchemically enhanced thugs from halfway around the world—but it was possible he was. If Duncan had told him off, as he’d implied, then Chad might have searched for someone else to get the case for him. I didn’t know, however, how he would have known about Mom’s artifact. When we’d been together, I’d told him very little about the pack—all he’d known was that I’d lost the first love of my life and the pain was why I’d left my family. There was no reason I could think of that he would have guessed the pack had valuables, other than that they were werewolves. I hadn’t known about the medallion myself until Mom had shown it to me the week before.

I looked toward the Roadtrek, tempted to ask if Duncan would call Chad and try to get information from him. To my surprise, Duncan was sitting in the front seat, visible through the frosted windows. Was he talking on the phone?

He noticed me across the parking lot and lifted a finger when our eyes met. Yes, hewastalking to someone.

I headed to a patch of snow that needed removing and worked on it, but I glanced often at the van, curious who he was speaking with that had prompted him to tell me to wait. It wasn’t as if we had a breakfast date and had agreed to meet, but the gesture seemed to imply…

He moved into the back of the van and out of sight.

My curiosity prompted me to walk over there. I hadn’t left his window cracked this time, but I stood in the same spot as when I’d eavesdropped before and tried to hear him.

As more days had passed, the remnants of the previous dose of my potion had completely worn off, and my werewolf-gifted senses had grown stronger. They were keen enough that I could hear Duncan speaking, even without an open window.

“No, I didn’t reconsider,” he was saying. “I just thought you should know that someone else got your case.”

My mouth dropped open. Was he speaking with Chad again? Even though I’d justbeen thinking about asking him to contact my ex-husband, it was hard not to seethe. The thought of them chatting—chatting andcolluding—made me crazy.

“Unlessyou’rethe one responsible for that theft,” Duncan added. In a leading tone? “When I wasn’t able to get it, did you put the word out, offering money up here to anyone who found werewolf artifacts?”

I willed myself to calm down. It sounded like Duncan might have called on my behalf to try to learn if Chad was behind things.

“I’m in Brazil now. How am I going to put word out in Seattle?” came Chad’s voice, surprisingly clearly.

Had Duncan put him on speakerphone? Maybe he knew I was lurking and wanted me to hear this.

“I hear they have the internet all over the world these days,” Duncan said dryly.

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