Page 52 of Quest of the Wolf

I halted one step inside the apartment. Furniture was tipped over, blankets and clothes strewn about the floor, and plates that had been yanked from cabinets and hurled across the living room lay shattered by the wall. The table I’d placed my gear on was upended. I picked my way through the mess toward it, afraid…

The sword was gone. I swore again.

The grenades were missing too. Only the magnet on the rope lay tangled on the floor, cast aside as something worthless.

“How am I supposed to storm a bad-guy lair with only that?” My fists balled in frustration. I hadn’t even figured out where the lair was yet, but I would have. I still would. I just?—

“Did you see this, Luna?” Jasmine stood by the overturned coffee table, pointing at the faux wood floor.

With anger and frustration tightening my muscles, I joined her. Heat warmed my skin from within, my magic offering to bring forth the wolf. But with the police officers loitering, that was the last thing I should do. Too bad. Whoever had done this had done so recently. We hadn’t been out of the apartment for long. With my lupine nose, I could have tracked them by scent.

Jasmine pointed at a message written in red paint. It was probably supposed to pass as blood, but my nose told me otherwise.

Don’t interfear. Don’t attack again. Or die.

“Nice spelling on interfere,” Jasmine said. “You’re dealing with some real masterminds.”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t take a mastermind to rob an apartment or deliver a threat.” I headed for my bedroom, worried they might have found the wolf case. Maybe I’d been foolish to underestimate the local thugs.

“That’s not blood… right?” Perhaps not the paint connoisseur that I was, Jasmine eyed the damp red writing with more unease.

“Nope. Sherwin-Williams. Trust me. I buy it often. Evergreen Fog is a staple here.” I paused in the doorway, able to sense that the artifact remained in the heat duct under the floor. It was a good thing the robbers hadn’t been paranormal, else they might have sensed its presence and hunted for it.

“Is that a color?” Jasmine asked.

Stepping back into the living room, I waved to the soft gray-green paint on the walls. “2022 Color of the Year.”

“Fancy.”

I shifted my fingers toward the writing. “That looks like Beetroot. Maybe Sun-dried Tomato.”

“Is it weird that you know their whole line-up of paint colors?”

“Nope. I’ve done a lot of painting.”

“Is it weird that you’re not visibly creeped out by this?” Jasmine waved to indicate the writing and the vandalized apartment.

“I’m too busy being frustrated that they stole Duncan’s gifts.”

“Oh, man, they took the grenades?”

“And the sword.” That had to be a lot more valuable than the explosives Duncan had picked up at a military-surplus store or wherever one could purchase such things. “It was an antique.”

“The grenades were super handy.” Jasmine sounded more distressed by the loss of them. Maybe hurling them out the truck window had been exhilarating. “What bastards.” She shook her head. “What kind of thugs steal a woman’sgrenades?”

“The kind that are pissed that she’s determined to drive them out of Shoreline.”

“When are you going to do that? You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“Tell me about it.” And with these brutes gunning for me, it was going to be hard to focus on my number one priority.

I sensed someone approaching from outside and turned toward the door, no weapons nearby that I could grab. But my blood was hot, anger making my magic rise to the surface and sweep through my veins. If I needed to, I could call upon the wolf.

17

I recognizedthe magical being approaching my apartment and didn’t call upon the wolf.

“Duncan?” I asked in wonder.

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