Page 9 of Relics of the Wolf

“He didn’t tell me anything about it or its purpose or provenance. What led to him wishing to hire me was a discussion about werewolves. He saw me in a brawl with riffraff on the dock in Costa Rica that I mentioned—they wanted to steal some of my pricy locating equipment—and he recognized that my attributes couldn’t be entirely human.”

“Youarestrong. Even for a werewolf.” I eyed him. “I dug up the footage of you gleefully ripping pieces off motorcycles.”

“Yes, I’ve found that it’s more acceptable to the authorities in this and other lands if you rip pieces off property instead of people. When someone swings a tire iron at me or someone in my company, I’m more inclined toward the latter, but as I’ve grown older and more silvered, I’ve learned to rein in my instincts some.”

That had been a lot of words to not answer my implied question.

“Doyoutake an alchemical substance to enhance your abilities further?” I asked more bluntly.

“I do not. I work out, and I eat sardines.”

“Uh, sardines?”

“Their health benefits are great, and they’re shelf stable, thus easy to store in a van. In addition to being good for your bones and muscles, they help make your coat lush and glossy.”

“So, if I open that cabinet back there, I’ll find stacks of sardine tins?” I waved toward an upper door above a rack of SCUBA equipment.

“The drawer by the mini fridge, actually. There are anchovies too. Feel free to help yourself.” Duncan glanced at the chocolate bars in my lap. “I understand the antioxidants in cacao beans are also health promoting.”

“Is that your way of saying you’d like a couple of squares?”

“Quite. Had you brought the kind with bacon pieces in the chocolate, I might already have leaped upon you, unable to restrain my inner wolf.”

“You have urges to be that juvenile? Despite your silvering pelt?”

He’d called it that before, and I glanced at his salt-and-pepper hair. Itwaslush and glossy.

“Maturity can’tentirelysubdue one’s base instincts. I like almonds also. And salt.”

“As we all do.” I opened the bar, broke off a couple of squares, and held them up to entice him. “After Chad saw you fight, what did he say?”

“Ah, those are bribe bars? Not amiability-earning bars?”

“You’re already amiable. It’s the information you like to withhold that I’m after.”

“Hm.”

Duncan looked at a brick building on a corner with retail on the bottom—there was the package-delivery service he’d mentioned—and apartments above, metal balconies attached to some of them. His window was down, and a hint of incense wafted to me over the smells of gasoline, the nearby fish market, and sea air drifting in from Puget Sound. Duncan drove around the building, looking for parking. Numerous bars and restaurants in the area ensured the lack he’d promised.

“Your ex-husband asked if I was indeed a werewolf and then spoke excitedly about research he’d done on our kind. His questions seemed innocuous enough, and I even thought… Well, I’ve encountered fanatics before.”

“Werewolf fanatics?”

“Those a touch obsessed with the lore. Sometimes, they have even known actual werewolves, though I don’t have to tell you that we’re a dying breed.”

“No.”

“Your ex said he’d been studying werewolves for ages,” Duncan continued, “and that he’d picked up numerous trinkets on business trips around the world.”

“In between sleeping with women in exotic locales, no doubt.”

Duncan looked over at me. His expression was sympathetic, but I felt immature since I’d mentioned Chad’s betrayal to him multiple times already—I’d mentioned it to alotof people. As one of my friends had pointed out, Chad still lived rent-free in my head.

I longed to rise above it all and put him out of my mind, and I’d been making progress… until this. His return, however obliquely, to my life had stirred up all the old emotions. There was a part of me that wondered if I should have just handed the case to Duncan and let Chad have it, but it seemed pertinent to me and my kind, not a humanfanatic.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m working on getting over my bitterness, but being mature is an ongoing challenge.”

“You lack the silver in your pelt to convey the needed peace and wisdom.” Duncan smiled, glancing at my hair before wedging his van into a parking spot a Toyota half its size had vacated. It was a good thing the Roadtrek had a sliding door in the back, as there wouldn’t be room to open the passenger door.

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