Page 4 of Way of the Wolf

“This is going to be fun for both of us, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Two to three months,” Bolin said sturdily, managing not to sneer or bare his teeth again. “That’s what my parents said. I need to get on-the-ground experience and prove that I’m a competent employee, and then they’ll give me arealjob in the family business. I’ll have a nice office, an opportunity to travel, paid vacation time, a retirement match, and annual bonuses.”

I thought about mentioning thatIdidn’t get any of those things, unless bonuses included the Christmas fruitcake and gift card, but I was fairly certain Ed was behind distributing those to the property managers.

Bolin squared his shoulders. “I’m prepared to prove myself.”

“Well, the toilet is this way.” I extended my hand into the apartment again, though I couldn’t imagine asking the kid to do more than hold my wrench. The next two to three months were going to be a huge pain in the ass. I could tell already.

Bolin didn’t move from the walkway. “Don’t you have any data that needs crunching? Or work orders written up or something? I like writing.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re quite the wordsmith.” I pointed at a line on the résumé, right under a promise of fifteen years’ experience playing the violin. “Second place in the Regional Scripps Spelling Bee.”

“It would have been first, but Latin and I don’t get along as well as we should. Your name is Latin, you know. Luna for moon is obvious, but were you aware that Valens is Latin too? It means strength.” Bolin eyed my bare forearms.

“Yeah, my pack—myfamilyis originally from Italy, a long time ago.”

Bolin squinted at me, and I wondered if he knew I was a werewolf. Ed had some suspicions about that, and I hadn’t been willing to lie completely when he’d brought it up. I had, however, assured him I didn’t turn into a wolf when the moon was full and wouldn’t eat the tenants. He’d grunted and said as long as I got the work done during the days, he didn’t care what I did at night. I’d been somewhat bemused that he thought my jobended at five p.m. but had been grateful he’d been reasonable and hadn’t mentioned how often tenants needed help after dark.

“You don’treallyfix the toilets, do you?” was what Bolin asked. “You call a plumber for that, right?”

“Unless things are a real mess, I do most of the repairs around the place myself. I save the business a lot of money because I’ve learned to?—”

The roar of motorcycles sounded in the street, more than two this time. The riders who’d cruised through earlier had returned—with backup.

Six men on Harleys roared into the parking lot, five carrying baseball bats or crowbars. One gripped a handgun.

Shit. I wasn’t bad in a fight, but I didn’t want to launch into a battle against a biker gang with firearms.

“Call the police, intern.” I waved Bolin toward the leasing office, then jogged for the parking lot, hoping that pointing out the security cameras would dissuade the intruders from starting trouble.

I hoped that, but I doubted it would prove true. As I approached, I stayed behind cover, darting from tree to bush tolamppost, not trusting that these guys wouldn’t shoot me. Even if I’d only seen one gun, the rest of them could have concealed firearms.

The riders shouted gleefully in a foreign language as they roared through the parking lot. They slammed their baseball bats and crowbars into the sides and backs of vehicles, leaving dents and broken glass.

I glimpsed red-rimmed eyes in their surly faces and figured they were on drugs.

“The police are coming!” I yelled at a thug swinging a baseball bat at a parked Toyota.

Glass shattered, and the guy rode toward another target without glancing at me.

Fury surged up within me, making me wish I could still change into a wolf. Then I could have leaped on them without fear and ripped their throats out. And if they’d shot me in that form, I would have recovered rapidly from the wounds, my magical power healing me.

But after more than twenty-five years, I doubted I would ever be able to change again. I had only my humanity to rely on.

Or so I thought. A startling tingle coursed through my veins, the hot tingle of werewolf magic. Alarm rather than relief swept through me. There was a reason I’d started taking those potions. Fantasies of dealing with bad guys aside, the last thing I wanted was to turn into a wolf in the middle of the day in the apartment complex where I worked.

The hot tingle meant it was closer to time for another dose than I’d realized. I took a deep slow breath, trying to calm my body, but it was hard with motorcycle riders creating anarchy in my parking lot.

“Nobody here has valuables, you dumbasses,” I yelled as one rode past, his crowbar waving in the air. “Get the hell out of here!”

“You’ve an interesting negotiation style,” a calm voice said from behind, startling me.

Duncan.

“I’m not negotiating. I’m cussing those bastards out.”

“Allow me.”

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