Page 19 of Way of the Wolf

Unflappable, Duncan lowered his hand. “Despite your prickly demeanor, I will relay the message my contact gave me. She suggests bringing any remains you have of your existing magical concoction, including a list of ingredients, if you know them. I wasn’t entirely sure what your potion is but thought I might have the gist and mentioned it to her.”

I struggled between wanting to bare my teeth—I didn’t want anyonegistingabout my private potion use—and being appreciative that he had a lead for me.

“My contact wasn’t familiar with a potion that does what I think yours does and said the local alchemist might need to do some research,” Duncan continued. “The more information you can give her, the better. Do you know what it’s made from?”

“Sort of.”

“Hm.”

“I can find out.” How, I didn’t know, since only a few of the ingredients were written on the labels, but I would attempt some research. “Thanks.”

I lifted my hand, intending to shoo him toward the greenbelt, but hesitated. Duncan kepthelpingme. Even though I mistrusted him, I did appreciate that. And if I kept snarking at him, it would be bitchy. I was probablyalreadybeingbitchy.

With a sigh, and the fear that I would regret it, I asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee before you return to…work?”

I waved toward the trees, not fully able to take the sarcasm out of the word. If he made enough money to live on by scavenging in the woods—and the lakes—I would be shocked.

Duncan beamed a smile at me. “I wouldlovea cup of coffee.”

That smile appeared triumphant, and my certainty that I would regret making the offer returned.

7

The espresso makerhummed as it warmed up and I poured water into the reservoir. Duncan sat politely at my dining table with his hands clasped in front of him while he gazed curiously around my apartment, the half-walls of the living room and kitchen making them visible from his spot. The two bedroom doors were closed. Other than dusting and vacuuming now and then, I hadn’t disturbed the boys’ room since Austin had left. I hoped he would be more prone to visit than Cameron, especially since all his things were still here.

Duncan’s gaze lingered on the framed photos on the wall, pictures of the boys in various places around Seattle. Only a couple showed me over the years since I’d usually been the photographer rather than the subject. I’d long since removed all trace of my ex from the picture collection. After Austin had left, I’d dug out an old photo of the first man I’d ever loved—the firstwerewolfI’d loved—and hung it near a window that looked out onto trees. Even if I hadn’t brought Raoul up to my human family, I’d never forgotten him.

“That smells delicious.” Duncan nodded to the espresso machine.

“It will be. Now that I only have one mouth to feed, I splurge for the good stuff.” I waved to my preferred brand of coffee beans from Italy.

When I’d been clawing my way out of debt, I’d settled for Folger’s, but it had been a great relief when I’d paid off the last credit card and gone back to buying fresh espresso beans.

“I’m surprised those delectable aromas don’t entice hordes of men to line up at your kitchen window.”

“The hordes go to the drive-thru bikini-barista stand down the street.”

“That doesn’t sound like as refined of an experience.”

“You think my apartment and I are refined, huh?” I glanced at the twenty-year-old furniture and chips of laminate gouged out of the countertops.

“Sitting down is civilized. Swilling coffee in one’s van is not. And bikinis in this climate are impractical. It’s as rainy and dreary here as in England, which I didn’t imagine was possible until I came here.”

“I’m guessing Seattle baristas have to run heaters in their espresso stands most of the year.”

I let the conversation lapse, not practiced at keeping one up. Further, having a man in my apartment felt strange. I hadn’t dated or had anyone besides my kids in here since my ex-husband left.

My handful of female friends kept encouraging me to get out and meet new people, but I’d been focused on keeping the boys fed and cared for until recently. Now that they were gone, I could consider going out more, but I’d shifted from worrying about them to worrying about my future. Since I’d never had a retirement plan, that was a concern. Lately, I’d been taking odd jobs on the side and putting money into a special account. Since property management and fixing things around the apartment complexwas what I knew, I was saving to buy a small multifamily building of my own, with the hope of the rents bringing in income after I got too old to work. Assuming a werewolf, or the minions of a werewolf, didn’t kill me before then.

“Do you want milk in yours? A latte?” I waved toward the frothing wand, then summoned a double shot from the machine.

The espresso maker was the most expensive appliance I owned. Other than my car, it was the most expensivethingI owned. One Christmas, it had been a gift from my ex after he’d come into some money and he’d been trying to buy my forgiveness for sleeping around—again. As much as I hated him now—I’d thrown out almost everything in the apartment he’d touched—I hadn’t been willing to get rid of the espresso maker. I loved it and the rich dark coffee it produced.

“Nope. I like it straight and strong. Un café allongé. Uhm.” Duncan regarded the side of the espresso machine. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but is that a, er, phallic symbol on the side of your coffee maker?”

“It was supposed to be a fist holding up a middle finger.” I opened a drawer to show him the permanent marker I’d used to draw it. “My artistic skills are lacking, and my sons said it looked like a penis. The next day, the side fingers had been turned into testicles. I’m not sure which of the boys was responsible, but the drawing conveys my feelings toward the person who gave me the machine equally well, so I didn’t chastise them.”

“Who was the giver?”

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