Page 46 of Quest of the Wolf

Bolin drew back. “Yeah. You’re… a mom.”

He’d been about to sayold. I was sure of it.

Maybe my grays were showing. I hadn’t had time to dye my hair lately, and those buggers stood out against the usual black. Still, I hadn’t seen any grays in the mirror when I’d looked last. Since I’d stopped taking the potion that squelched my werewolf magic, I’d felt more vitality.Younger, even. Maybe Mom was right that our kind could be fertile longer than humans.

“You haven’t been talking to my cousin, Emilio, have you?”

“Not unless he turned in a leasing application.”

“I don’t think he needs an apartment. Middle-aged people can and do have sex, FYI. Retired people too.”

“I was going to say something helpful and encouraging about how quickly you’ll find another job as a property manager, but you’ve distracted me with unasked-for knowledge.”

“It’s because you had a puzzled expression that begged for an explanation.”

“Thatcan’tbe true,” he said without acknowledging that I’d turned his words on him.

“Do you know what your parents are going to ask for this place?” I knew how much came into the coffers in rents each year, and it was such a large number that my mind boggled at the idea of some multiple of that.

“Millions.”

“A lot of millions, right? It’s over a million for even a fourplex around here.”

“Yeah.” Bolin probably knew the number and didn’t want to tell me because his parents would be the ones getting that insanely fat check in their bank account.

It was possible—likely—they had a loan and maybe other backers that would need to be paid, but after all the decades the Sylvans had owned this place, I still deemed a fat check likely. I didn’t need that kind of wealth, but I couldn’t help but feel wistful. If I’d had a husband who’d been more of a partner in finances than an impediment, maybe I could have gotten on the property ladder years ago.

“You’re pricing fourplexes?” Bolin probably wanted to change the subject.

“Always.” I thought I’d told him about that, but maybe he’d forgotten—or I’d forgotten. When prompted, I tended to wax nostalgic about that long-term dream/goal. “I’m saving for the downpayment on one. It’s my retirement plan. Live in one unit and have the rents from the other three pay down the mortgage until I own it outright. Then the rents can pay for my coffee, chocolate, and medical needs in my doddering old age.”

“Do lycanthropes dodder?”

I hesitated, thinking of Mom and how I hadn’t talked her out of anything. Instead, she’d been the one to lecture me. I couldn’t help but feel I’d failed Lorenzo.

“Not usually,” I said. “They go off alone on a moonlit hunt, pick a fight with a stronger foe, and die on their own terms.”

“This conversation got grim.” The old rotary phone rang, and Bolin pounced on it. “Sylvan Serenity Housing.”

I turned for the door, reminded of the quest I needed to plan for, but paused when Bolin frowned at the phone.

“You try that, and I’ll unleash a paladin and all her hellhoundson you. We’ve upped the security here and hired private guards. They’ll personally drag you to jail.”

I tried to make out the response, but the hum of the computer fan and people talking on the walkway outside thwarted my attempt. All I got was that the speaker was male and had a menacing voice. I thought of the motorcycle riders who’d threatened me and lifted a hand.

Bolin handed me the phone.

“This is one of the hellhounds,” I said. “What do you want?”

“You’re the paladin,” Bolin whispered.

“If you don’t want to lose the kid and your tenants, you keep your fangs out of this town’s business.” The speaker hung up before I could respond.

I hadn’t recognized the voice but had a hunch it belonged to one of the motorcycle thugs. And I wasn’t surprised they’d figured out that I was the werewolf around town. After all, I’d changed right in front of them.

“Sorry, Bolin.” I handed him the phone to put on the cradle. “I need to get Duncan back, and then I’ll figure out a way to deal with the miscreants troubling us—and Shoreline. You might want to dawdle a bit on the marketing material and the listing. Until I get rid of that problem.”

Duncan could help me. He was the one who’d suggested I turn into a crime-fighting superhero. He’d offered to turn my blanket into a cape and mask.

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