1
“I havethree interviews next week and a job offer I don’t know if I want to take.” My niece’s voice came through tinny over the speaker of my phone, which balanced precariously on a landscaping boulder while I raked up sodden needles and broken branches. “It doesn’t sound meaningful, fulfilling, or like it’ll enhance my skills for my résumé.”
“Doesn’t pay enough for you to move out of your parents’ backyard, huh?” I tossed pine boughs into the cart I’d driven onto the lawn.
Sun beamed from the morning sky, but a wicked windstorm the night before had left debris all over the grounds of Sylvan Serenity Housing. Most of the time, I appreciated how much verdant acreage the apartment complex sprawled across, especially given its suburban Shoreline location near the busy freeway. This was not one of those times.
“Not even close,” Jasmine said. “I’d make more pouring coffee drinks at the bikini-barista espresso stand.”
“Those girls earn a lot for standing in the damp Seattle climate while so scantily clad. You can’t expect a job that competes with that.”
“I’m halfway to a master’s degree and have been working in the field with my mom for almost ten years.”
“I’ve heard they can make six figures in tips alone.”
“Oh, please.” After hesitating, Jasmine asked, “That’s not true, is it? Because if it is, I may need to rethink my job hunt. I’m trying to prove myself to the world through my great work ethic and the power of my brain, but… I’m super hot in a bikini.”
“I have no doubt.” Lower back sore, I stood straight to massage it. “But I’m not actually sure what they make. Oddly, I’m not compelled to visit their establishments that often. I’m more drawn to…” Movement in the woods bordering the property caught my eye. Leaves stirring. In the wind?
“Scantily clad penises?”
“If they’re attached to charming, intelligent men who make me feel good about myself, yes.”
“HowisDuncan? There’s a rumor going around the pack that he might put himself forward as a candidate to be our next alpha. Lorenzo is pretty old, and the young upstarts are always talking about challenging him. But I doubt they’d challenge someone who can turn into an old-school, two-legged werewolf with superpowers. And did your mothergivehim that magical medallion that the male alphas in the pack historically wore?”
Focused on the woods, I only half heard my niece. Though I was more than a hundred yards from the trees, I thought Isensedsomeone out there. Someone with magical blood.
Had the pack sent a relative to spy on me? Or on Duncan? Or, more likely, had Lord Abrams—pissed off that we’d killed his scheming business partner, Radomir—sent spies? Or potion-enhanced thugs with rifles loaded with magical silver bullets that could kill werewolves such as me?
“Aunt Luna?” Jasmine prompted.
I picked up the phone and leaned my rake against the boulder. “Yes, I’m still here. Duncan hasn’t said anything toindicate he craves leadership of the pack—I’m not sure he evenlikesanyone he’s met in the pack besides me. As for the medallion, he’s borrowing it while we deal with our mutual challenges.”
As I focused on the woods, I grew more and more certain that the being out there had alupineaura. Another werewolf.
“I have a visitor,” I said. “Let me call you back.”
Gardening tools set aside, I grabbed the magical sword sheathed in the cart next to the branches. It had been a gift from Duncan, one I’d recently recovered from Radomir’s lair. Technically, it had been in his armored SUV with him, a vehicle that my truck and I had a lot of reasons to hate. Fortunately, the SUV was as mangled as Radomir’s body, last seen at the bottom of a ravine along a remote mountain road.
Now armed, I strode across the lawn toward the woods. Nothing moved among the trees, aside from a few bare branches and fir needles stirred by a breeze, but I continued to sense a werewolf. Someone watching me.
Halfway to the woods, I halted, now close enough to recognize the aura.
“Lykos?” I asked, the face of the eight-year-old boy who happened to be Duncan’s clone brother popping into my mind.
Maybe his presence shouldn’t have surprised me. He’d been here once before, just a few days earlier. Duncan had gone out to attempt to befriend him, but that hadn’t been fruitful. From what I’d heard, the kid had hidden in the woods while Duncan tried to lure him out and explain his hobbies of metal detecting and magnet fishing. Duncan had mentioned wanting to practice being paternal in case he was ever inspired to partake in parenthood, but a half-feral werewolf kid wasn’t the easiest subject to father.
My senses told me Lykos was backing away. Maybe he’d wanted to spy without being noticed.
Well, that was too bad. I didn’t want to be spied on, not by some vengeful scientist’s pawn.
Since Abrams was the one who’d created the kid, and who’d presumably been housing and feeding him, Lykos might have come because his master had ordered it.
I looked toward the parking lot, thinking Duncan would be the logical one to deal with our visitor, but his modified Roadtrek camper van wasn’t there.
“I’ll have to confront him myself.”
I contemplated finding an evergreen bush to undress behind, turning into a wolf, and going out to challenge Lykos, but Duncan hadn’t given up on befriending the kid. And I had no reason to hold a grudge against him either. The last time we’d faced off, Lykos had realized I was bigger and stronger than he, at least for now, and he’d fled.