Page 15 of Blood and Magic
“They’re latent,” I interrupted again. “It would have hit them by now if they weren’t.”
The longer Maeve went without transitioning, the more that meant she never would.
“You know I have a seventh sense about these things,” Lycan said, his shit-eating grin so smug that I wanted to knock his teeth out. “I guessed it about Sol the first time I met her. I’m telling you…” He pointed at Maeve and Avalon. “Those two are ticking time bombs.”
I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders to relieve the tension.
Moose raised an eyebrow and glanced between me and our drunk road captain. “How certain are you?”
Lycan shrugged. “Eighty…no, ninety percent.”
I tried to pretend the thought of Maeve going through the change didn’t delight my wolf.
Take her. Help her. It should be me.
The Bastard smiled again. “I can smell it on her. Maeve’s going first. Then Ava. Probably around the time we’re in Paris together.” He snorted and laughed. “Maybe I’ll take her to the Eiffel Tower, you know what I’m saying?”
“Don’t be a prick,” I said, rolling my eyes. Not that his sexual preferences were off-putting, but the casual way he talked about them infuriated me.
Lycan ignored me. “And probably that younger one, too. Galahad.”
“And the older brother?” Moose asked.
Lycan tilted his head from side to side and frowned. “Now, he’s latent. One hundred percent.”
In our world, the shifter gene was dominant. Even if a human mated with a shifter, the children would most likely change. But every so often, the genes mutated and produced offspring who should have had the magic but didn’t transition. We called them latent, but that didn’t mean they were less than us, though some bigoted assholes in the pack would suggest otherwise. They were just as crucial to our healthy ecosystem, and Kodiak ensured everyone knew it. He wouldn’t allow any talk of pure-breed or half-breed or latent. Everyone was pack, end of story.
“I think you’re cut off, brother,” Moose said, reaching for Lycan’s flask. The blond pulled away and shoved Moose back.
“Bet me,” he said.
“What? No.” Moose laughed and went for the whiskey again.
“Go on, bet me.” Lycan giggled and pushed to his feet. “Five hundred bucks and three perimeter rotations says that Maeve Vanderbilt transitions within a month, and an extra grand if Avalon goes after her.”
“Fuck off, Lycan,” Moose said.
“It’s fucked-up to bet about someone going through the change,” I added.
“Not to mention bad luck.” Moose shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Where’s Poe, huh?” I glanced around. “Shouldn’t you be trying to swallow his tongue by now?”
Poe was one of the newer members of our pack, and up until recently, Lycan’s boyfriend…er, fuck buddy? I didn’t know what they called themselves, only that they could regularly be found occupying each other’s beds.
Lycan’s features dropped, and he cleared his throat. “Poe and I…we’re taking a break.”
He said the B-word in the same tone he’d use to call someone a piece of shit.
“Uh-oh,” Moose said. “Trouble in paradise?”
Lycan didn’t answer, just tipped the flask over his lips for another huge gulp before screwing the lid back on and handing it over to Moose.
“I think you’re right, brother,” he said. “I’m toast, and I’m heading home.”
“Hey, you alright?” Moose stood, holding out a hand to help him.
Lycan shook him off. “Just fine. Besides, we’ve got the prospects driving us home, right? I’ll see you both when I get back from France.”
