Page 22 of Way of the Wolf

“Unless you produce a magical artifact of vast and interesting powers, I’m not going to believe anyone did.” I eyed his device, still skeptical. Yes, it had beeped at me and at Duncan, but that only proved it knew a werewolf when it saw one.

“I do hate being disbelieved.” Duncan handed the device to me. “Let me see what I can find.”

As soon as I grasped it, I could feel its pull, itsmagic. It was indeed drawing me toward that spot in the floor, attracted by who knew what.

Duncan moved the lamp off the nightstand and climbed on top of it.

“I have a ladder in the maintenance room. You could have asked.” I curled my lip at dried mud on his boots, small flakes now adorning the nightstand.

“I didn’t want to delay what could be a monumental discovery of vast importance.” He planted his hands on the walls and peered intently at the corner of the ceiling.

“Yeah, such things are found in my bedroom all the time.” As I watched, I vacillated between irritation and curiosity. Meanwhile, the magic detector kept its pull on me, not wanting me to lift its antennae from the floor.

“There’s a tiny hole here in the corner.” Duncan pointed. “And it looks like someone patched a larger one around it. There are paintbrush strokes around it whereas the rest of the wall was done with a roller brush, I believe.”

“What? Let me see.”

Duncan hopped down from the nightstand, and I surged up on top of it, no longer worried about mud or taking the time to find a ladder. I rose on tiptoes to peer at the spot, wishing the lightwere better, but trees outside the window kept sun from flowing in, even on days when it was out. Damn, therewasa little hole.

It was so small I’d never noticed it—how many people looked closely around their bedrooms on a regular basis, anyway? And, yes, he was right about the brush strokes. From the floor, they weren’t noticeable, but this close…

“I’ve never done any repairs here,” I said.

“Have your children? Or, did you say you were married?”

“Yeah, but my family has never done any repairsanywhere. If anything, they’re the reasonI’veneeded to do repairs.” I remembered Cameron putting a fist through his wall two years earlier when I’d told him the college fund was gone. He’d also been angry then because I’d forbidden Chad from returning. That hadn’t been a good time.

“Do you want to get a knife so you can cut into the ceiling?” Duncan offered.

“I’m not going to stab a knife into the drywall like a savage.” I climbed down, retrieved my toolbox from under the kitchen sink, and pulled out a small flashlight and a cordless reciprocating saw. After checking the battery, I returned to the nightstand.

“You keep a jab saw in your apartment?” Duncan asked with amusement, picking up the magic detector and thankfully turning it off to stop the beeping.

“It’s not weird.” I climbed back onto the nightstand. “I’m the handywoman as well as the property manager, remember? You should see all the tools I have in the maintenance shed.”

“I didn’t say it was weird. I’m tempted to proclaim that a woman with power tools is sexy, but you’re in a good position to kick me in the face.” He smirked up at me.

“I wouldn’t do that.” I thumbed the saw on to enlarge the hole in the ceiling.

“Because you’ve seen me fight and respect my ability to defend myself?”

Ihadseen him fight, and he absolutely kicked ass. What I said was, “If I give you a concussion, there might be brain damage, and you’d never be able to move your van out of my parking lot.”

“Thatwouldbe an inconvenience.”

“A tremendous one, yes.”

Duncan knelt and peered behind the headboard, eyeing the heat vent.

Once I’d cut a hole in the ceiling, I probed the opening with the flashlight. Something glinted, and a twinge of anxiety swept through my gut. Therewassomething in there. A small device?

Using the blade, I attempted to wedge it out, but it was attached to something. A cord? Apower supply? And was that a glass lens?

I managed to maneuver the device out enough to grab it between thumb and forefinger, then yanked. It snapped free of the cord, and I found myself staring at a tiny camera.

Someone had been spying on me in my bedroom?

It had grown quiet, and I couldfeelmy heart hammering, reverberating against my eardrums.

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