Page 15 of Way of the Wolf

“I knew dinner with you would be interesting.” Only a hint of an animalistic rasp to his voice suggested how close he had come to changing.

If he had, would he have attacked me? Or would he have recognized me as an ally?

The pack always knew its own, but he’d implied he was a lonewolf. He might be one of those werewolves who couldn’t tell friend from foe when he changed, who was overcome by savage instincts and attacked any that those instincts deemed a threat, not coming back to his rational mind until the magic wore off and he reverted back. I knew all about that too.

“We haven’t even gone into the restaurant yet,” I said, not voicing any of my concerns. After all, we hadn’t yet admitted, either of us, to being what we both knew the other was.

“Of course not.” Duncan glanced at the wolves and dogs in the water, but they were all swimming away, and no more red glowing eyes were turned in our direction. He plucked up the fork he’d found earlier. “We’re still collecting the cutlery.”

I couldn’t manage a return smile for his stab at humor. Instead, I eyed the bleeding gash on my arm and thought of his earlier words. Reluctantly, I admitted those animals hadn’t attacked us because Duncan was a lone wolf. For some reason, someone was after me.

“Do you need to see a doctor?” Duncan asked, noticing the wound. “I assume you’re impervious to rabies, but…”

Yes, as far as I knew, the regenerative power of the wolf protected our kind from such maladies. Besides, that pack of strays hadn’t been driven by madness but by magic.

“I’m fine. I heal quickly.”

“I imagine so.”

Another howl sounded in the distance, this time with an edge of irritation to it. I had heard of werewolves capable of controlling lesser dogs and wolves, but this was my first time seeing it. Of course, I hadn’t spent any time around my own kind these past twenty-five years. Whoever the howler was, he sounded irked that his minions hadn’t been successful.

“That’sa werewolf.” Duncan lowered the fork.

“I know.”

What I didn’t know was whether or not, if Duncan hadn’t been with me, the werewolf would have come in person to attack me. To…killme.

6

After spendingthe morning going over the books to make sure I was balancing them correctly—it’s always a joy to have someone half your age checking your math—my intern brought over a list of maintenance requests that tenants had filed.

“Do you want me to make calls and arrange appointments for contractors to come out and give estimates?” Bolin asked. “Or are these the kinds of repairs you handle yourself?”

I perused the list, glad for the distraction. We were sitting in the leasing office while rain fell outside, pattering off the walkways. I’d been answering tenant emails and inquiries about vacancies, but I’d also kept glancing at my phone, wondering if I should call my cousin back.

Augustus hadn’t left a message, so maybe it had been a butt-dial, and he hadn’t meant to reach out. If so, it had been the first time his butt had chanced upon my number in years. Decades? As with the rest of the pack, he’d ignored me since I’d left. No, since I’d started taking the potion. Leaving and turning one’s back on one’s family was offensive, but leaving and turning one’s back on one’s heritage… That was unacceptable.

If I hadn’t been so sure that Duncan wanted something from me, I would have been surprisedhewas talking to me.

The night before, as promised, he’d offered to buy me dinner, even producing normal currency—not grime-coated coins from past decades. I’d declined, insisting on paying for my meal, but I had spent an hour with him while we dined on chicken skewers, Asian slaw, and rice doused in teriyaki sauce. The fact that he’d ordered four extra skewers and barely touched the sides attested to his carnivorous ways. The wolf in me also craved meat, but I’d never made enough money to buy heaps of it, so I’d learned to make do with grains and vegetables. Besides, that was whatnormalhumans ate, and I’d never wanted to stand out in a suspicious you’re-clearly-a-dangerous-paranormal-predator way.

During our meal, Duncan had been an agreeable enough companion. And, when he’d gazed pensively off into the distance, I’d caught myself noticing how handsome his profile was. His usually present smile and frequent winks made him look a touch goofy, but he’d been anything but that when he’d been fighting. He’d been… amazing.

Bolin cleared his throat, and I blushed, turning my attention back to the list of maintenance requests.

“I can wash the bird poop off the outside of D-43’s windows,” I murmured, ignoring his lip curl. Such an activity was probably beneath a scion of the Sylvan family. Maybe I would bring him with me and make him hold my begrimed scrub brush. “And let’s go take a look at this leak and see how bad it is. I usually call Alex or José if a plumbing job is going to involve cutting into the wall or ceiling. And if there’s mold that needs to be remediated… that’s the worst. Tenants can sue over mold.”

“When you saylet’s, do you mean you want me to come with you?” Bolin looked longingly toward the desk and computer, as if the spreadsheet pulled up was more appealing than doing physical labor.

I couldn’t imagine feeling that way. “Yeah, it means letus. Did you study contractions for your spelling bee?”

“No. I studied Latin and Greek rules regarding word origins.”

“Fascinating.” I grabbed my toolbox. “You can tell me about them while you hold my wrench.”

“Are you really interested?” Bolin gave me a wary-hopeful look. Not sure if I’d been sarcastic and was mocking him?

One probably shouldn’t quash the passions of one’s intern, no matter how much one didn’twantan intern.

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