Page 8 of Relics of the Wolf

“Sort of. It’s magical and I guess attuned to women.” Maybe I should have asked Mom more about the medallion. “My cousin believes it should go to his wife. He also doesn’t think I’m worthy to inherit it because I walked away from the pack all those years ago.” Worse, in his eyes, I’d taken that potion that had kept me from feeling the call of the wolf and changing into our true form.

“I’d imagine that would be for your mother to decide. More meat?”

I blinked, hardly realizing I’d wolfed down the first piece. It had been so tender I’d scarcely had to chew or pause my speech. “Yes.”

“I thought so.” His eyes gleamed.

The image of a rabbit lured in by a carrot came to mind again, and I looked frankly at him. “Are you trying to win my trust with food?”

“A certain amiability, perhaps. You’ve explained why trust might be difficult to earn, and I understand. Ididoriginally come to you with deceit in mind.” Duncan bowed again. Apologetically. Then he sliced off another piece of brisket. “I was making this for myself since there’s nothing like returning from a hard day’s work to a perfectly smoked haunch of meat, but I’m most pleased to share it with you.”

“I was skeptical from the beginning that there was any treasure in the greenbelt by the freeway.”

“Oh, there were allsortsof fascinating things lost in there. I found not one or two butthreeantique hubcaps.” He extended the slice of meat on his fork. “But you’re correct that it wasn’t my treasure-hunting research that led me to that particular patch of woodlands. Does it even have a name?”

“Smoker Woods is what the teenagers who lurk back there against their parents’ wishes call it.” I pantomimed tagging a puff from a cigarette. The recently vacated apartment wasn’t the first smoke-tainted unit I’d cleaned over the years. Not by far.

“Catchy.”

“I can’t say that it’s a tourist hot spot.”

As Duncan and I ate, sharing the delicious brisket, another howl sounded. Was it closer? It was hard to believe a werewolf would cross the Ballard Bridge and attack us in a public area during daylight hours, but night wasn’t that far away.

“Perhaps we should vacate the premises. I doubt it’s my brisket that’s prompting that wolf to howl.” Duncan absently rubbed his side, the place where he’d been gouged in the fight with my cousins. Since werewolves had magical regenerative powers, the wounds should have healed, but the memory would doubtless linger. His gaze shifted toward my phone. The screen had gone dark, but maybe he was thinking of the mugger. “The alchemist who made your potions was full of knowledge, not only about alchemy but about the paranormal scene in Seattle. Why don’t we visit her first and ask about magical ways in which a man’s strength might be enhanced?”

“There are plainchemicalways that can be achieved.”

“I don’t think that bloke was a victim of ’roid rage,” Duncan said dryly.

Maybe not. His face had been calm as he’d hurled Bolin into the post. Even the punch after the vial throwing hadn’t been accompanied by much expression. Maybe that was what made Duncan believe the guy wasn’t a werewolf. When our wild savagery surfaced,calmwasn’t an appropriate descriptor.

Duncan disassembled his smoker and placed it beside the van’s tiny sink for cleaning later, then sliced up the rest of the meat, storing it in a compact, counter-high refrigerator. He laid three slices of brisket on a post in front of the van.

“In case the wolf comes to investigate,” he said.

“Are you trying to win his amiability too?”

“It’s more likely the seagulls and crows will find the meat first, but you never know.” Duncan looked wistful as he opened the passenger door. “May I offer you a ride to the alchemist?”

I hesitated. Nothing bad had happened when I’d ridden with him before, but…

“There’s not much parking down there.” Duncan waved in the direction of the Space Needle and downtown. “Oddly, alchemists don’t have reserved spots for clients.”

“Thatisodd.”

“The package-shipping place under her second-floor apartment hasthreededicated spots for customers.”

“The power of being part of a large corporate chain.” Though I didn’t know if it was wise, I locked my truck, grabbed the chocolate bars I’d brought, and climbed into Duncan’s passenger seat.

Whether I should trust him even this much, I didn’t know, but the odds of finding the case would be better with his help and expertise. If wedidfind it, I would have to make sure to get to it first.

3

“DidChad say what the case is for?” I asked as Duncan drove past the Space Needle on his way to wherever the alchemist lived. “How he got it? Or why he wanted it?”

I was reticent to bring up my ex, not wanting to discuss him in any capacity, or even think about him, but the need to know more about the wolf case overrode my distaste for the topic.

At first, Duncan didn’t answer, and I thought he might claim there was some confidential employer-employee relationship that treasure hunters and those who paid for their services claimed. But maybe he was simply trying to remember their encounter because he did eventually answer.

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