Page 71 of Relics of the Wolf

I almost said that Bolin mightbeone of the legitimate descendants, but I didn’t want to give these guys a reason to hunt him down.

Watching me as he did so, Radomir withdrew a few more items from his drawer. A chalice with a jeweled wolf on the side came to rest by the case—was that the item Jasmine’s dad had looked up? After that, he added a dagger with a wolf-headed grip, an Old West revolver with a wolf carved into the ivory handle, and finally a silver platter. Engraved in the center, a wolf showed all its teeth, the image identical to that on the case. It had an inscription that might have been in the same language as the words on the case, but I was too far away to tell. Too bad. I wanted to copy it for translating. I wanted to know if any of these artifacts had the secret to the bite, and I caught myself drifting a couple of steps closer to the desk.

Duncan grunted in warning and stopped me with a hand to my arm. Shit, I hadn’t meant to move. I was drawn by the magic, but the last thing I wanted was to obey these guys’ wishes.

The two security guards shifted, their hands drifting to their firearms as they watched us. Radomir slid a hand along the inner edge of his desk. I thought he might draw out more artifacts, but he merely folded his arms afterward.

Lord Abrams lifted a hand of his own in a quelling gesture toward the guards as he looked at Duncan. “Do not stop her, Drakon. Her touch may be revealing. We already know yours will not be.”

He looked toward the boy, which also prompted Duncan to consider him. The kid ducked fully behind the filing cabinet to dodge the scrutiny.

“You have power, Drakon,” Abrams continued, “but are not, I believe, the correct sex. For all time, it has mostly been the wolf wise women who’ve handled artifacts and retained power for the pack.” He nodded toward me and continued softly. “Come forward and touch it, girl. Luna.”

His using my name creeped me out. Not only because he’d researched me—spiedon me—from afar but becausehewas creepy. Though Duncan was fully dressed, his clothes hiding the shackle scars on his wrists, they came to my mind.

“Touch it,” Radomir said in a more stern tone. “We don’t have all night.”

“Expecting a hot date?” I muttered.

“Idohave a companion waiting. We can’tallbe dedicated twenty-four-seven to our research.” He gave Abrams an arch look.

Duncan still gripped my arm, not hard but firmly.

I looked over my shoulder at him. “I’ll touch them. I want to see too.” With my back fully to the men, and shifting to block my face from the guards by the door, I mouthed, “Be ready.”

If I could grab the artifacts, and we could fight our way out of here, we could escape. In the tractor if not in that awful car with a mind of its own.

Duncan hesitated, not looking like he wanted to let me get close to those guys, but he did release me.

I walked slowly to the desk. Since I already knew the medallion would respond to me, and the case hadn’t done anything except zap me when I’d handled it, I touched the chalice first.

It tingled warmly under my finger, and an image came to me of a furry werewolf that had taken the in-between form. On two legs, it stood on a rocky bank and held the chalice up to capture the spray of a waterfall. A glow came from within the cup, and the werewolf drank the water before dropping the chalice and roaring at the moon.

The two men exchanged looks. I drew my hand back, not certain if they had been able to tell that anything had happened. I didn’t know the significance of what the chalice had shared.

I touched the platter, and it zapped me the same way the case had. I jerked my hand back.

“Different creator,” Radomir said with a laugh.

He shook his hand, and I wondered if it had zapped him too. The case probably had. It hadn’t even allowed Duncan to touch it until he’d rubbed some special goo on his hand.

“Same as the case, possibly,” Abrams said.

I touched the revolver, though it didn’t emanate as much magic as the other artifacts. Since it looked like something from the 1800s gunslinger era, I doubted druids had been involved in its creation. The faintest of warm hums emanated from it.

“That one was supposedly made with Navajo magic,” Radomir said. “I didn’t pay that much for it. I’m not sure it has anything to do with werewolves. We were arguing earlier if that’s even a wolf on the grip. It looks coyote-ish.”

Abrams lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “A coyote skinwalker is their term, their legend, for those with werewolf magic. There were few real werewolves roaming those inhospitably dry lands, but one or two may have passed through over the years, lending their power to the creation of an artifact.” He nodded to the gun.

“The medallion, girl.” Radomir pointed his chin toward it, sounding impatient. No doubt because of the hot date we were keeping him from. “That’s from your own pack. I want to know what it can do.” He lowered his arms and leaned forward intently in his chair. “Whatyoucan do with it.”

“I merely wish more data for my project.” Abrams withdrew a phone and started recording me.

“Great,” I muttered, imagining a viral video of me being zapped across the room to land on my ass.

“I know what you want,” Radomir replied to Abrams. “You can keep researching all you like. Touch it, girl.”

His insistence made me want to do the opposite. I looked back at Duncan, and he nodded, a hand in his pocket. Gripping one of the grenades?

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