Page 10 of The Vampire in the Potting Shed

“They never tell me anything.” She bobbed a shoulder. “I can go fishing, though.”

>I must not have gotten the memo.

>>You’re not missing anything.

“Ask him if it has anything to do with the Walsh situation.”

Any intel on my guest would help me determine how to treat him going forward, as victim or threat.

A beat of hesitation paused her fingers over the screen before she gave in. “Okay.”

>The Walsh situation, right?

>>Who told you about that?

“Now what?” She fumbled her cell. “I suck at evasive maneuvers.”

The quick clapback convinced me there was more to the bloodied vampire than met the eye.

“Give it to me.” I snatched the device, an evil smile curling my lips. “I’ll handle it.”

>Bowie mentioned it this morning.

Part of me wondered if Bowie felt the impact when I threw him under the bus.

>>What did he say, exactly?

>Just that he and Zoe were working on it.

The rest of me hoped he sensed it when I threw that bus in reverse then drove over him again.

>>Bowie has a big mouth. Forget about it. It’s nothing.

>Sure thing.

“You really hate Bowie, huh?” Sloane whistled softly. “He’s going to get in so much trouble.”

“Nah. He’s nothing special. I have a list of people who—” I clamped my mouth shut. “So, your plan?”

“I’m going to shift and cause a distraction.” She reached for the hem of her shirt. “While you change into my clothes to conceal your scent and walk in through the front door.” She offered up a black hoodie tied around her waist. “This will help. It stinks like teenage boy and body spray. I stole it from your neighbors in the gray and white house, so we’ll need to return it to the lawn chair where I found it.”

“You really came prepared for anything.” I peeled out of my clothes. “I’m impressed, Sloane.”

“Without knowing what you were planning, I figured it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.” She stripped off the rest of her clothes until all that remained was a leather thong between her breasts strung with a hammered charm. “I won’t be able to shift back after this for an hour, so good luck. I’ll give you as long as I can, but Tai is fast. Do what you need to then meet me back here.”

Another charm Mercer bought in bulk? One that allowed a near instantaneous shift for his sentinels. The cost of forcing a body through a metamorphosis that usually required a quarter hour, for the lucky ones, to complete in under one minuteinduced burnout. Sloane would be trapped on four legs, and after a short burst of activity meant to give sentinels an edge in battle, her energy would gutter and she would black out until her natural magic revived her.

That she was willing to endure the pain when she had no clue what I was up to, whether it was worth it, made me want to believe she was telling the truth. But I had been let down too many times to accept an offer of friendship at face value.

As the change swept over her, she contorted, her body breaking and bending and reshaping itself anew.

How she, or the others, endured the agony without crying out never ceased to amaze me.

Sixty seconds later, a light-gray wolf with a white blaze over one eye stood before me.

Sloane wagged her tail once, butted her head against my thigh, then sprinted away into the dark.

A distant growl alerted me that Tai was in hot pursuit, and I couldn’t help my smile as I tugged the stinky boy hoodie over my head and strolled to the front of GSG, mimicking Sloane’s rolling gait. I let myself in then ran to the side entrance and slipped out that door. I flattened myself against the grass, praying it was only the one camera I was avoiding, and crawled to the potting shed.

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