Page 3 of Way of the Wolf

Er, maybe Iwasgetting checked up on.

“Sylvan, as in the owners of Sylvan Serenity Housing?” I waved to the apartment complex.

I’d met Rory and Kashvi Sylvan, but they traveled a lot, and I usually interacted with their businessperson, Ed Kuznetsov.

“Yes, I’m their son. I’m here for…” Bolin took a deep breath, one that involved baring his teeth and visibly bracing himself. “I’m to be your intern.”

“My what?” I’d heard him, but my brain didn’t want to process the words.

Movement in the woods drew my eye. Duncan had reappeared, and he was peering at us from behind a few ferns. No, he was peering towardBolin.

Was he eyeing the expensive man purse? Hell, maybe Duncanwasinterested in petty crime. If he stepped onto the lawn, I might have to tackle him. Maybe the stray cat would help me take him down.

“I’m going to be yourintern,” Bolin said slowly, probably thinkingIwas slow.

Not usually, but I didn’t want to be trailed around by a college kid driving a car worth three times my annual salary. Before taxes.

Worse, what if the owners wanted to eventually swap me out with him? What if, after more than twenty years of working and living here, I was being asked to train my replacement?

“Only temporarily. Probably only for two or three months.Hopefully.” Bolin winced as he looked at my clothes again and then around at the apartment complex, as if it was a sleazy slum.

It was far from that. Sure, it had been built in the seventies, so it lacked modern amenities, but, thanks to me, the buildings and the grounds were impeccably maintained. The facade and interiors might be dated, but they were otherwise in good condition, and the tenants all had excellent credit histories, were gainfully employed, and paid their rent faithfully. I made sure of that.

There was nothingslummyabout the place, and I caught myself baring my own teeth. It startled Bolin, and he stepped back.

I forced my lips to chill out, reminding myself that my canine teeth were imposing. That was something the monthly potion couldn’t change.

“I’m sure it’s a good job, and that you’re very capable,” Bolin hurried to say, not so dense that he didn’t realize he’d offended me. “It’s just not what I was planning on after college, not what I’d been promised. My parents always said— Well, I majored in accounting, you see. Forthem. I mean, I like numbers, and I’m decent at math, so it was okay, but when they said I’d have a job in the family business, I assumed that I would do their books and getto travel to all the places where they have investments. Like Malta and Saint Lucia and Singapore. I didn’t think I’d be hounding people for rent checks at the first property they ever bought in—” Bolin’s lip curled so much that his gums were visible, “—Shoreline.”

He said it like the suburb was the sweaty unshaven armpit of the Seattle area. It was not. Sure, it wasn’t as romantic or exotic as Singapore or Saint Lucia, but lots of good people lived and worked here.

“A lot of the tenants have direct withdrawals for rent, so the books aren’t that hard to keep. And I track the expenses faithfully. As for duties perfect for an intern, I’m installing a toilet today if you want to help.” My eyes probably gleamed with pleasure as I extended my arm into the apartment.

Bolin reeled back, as if I’d suggested he descend into a sewer tunnel to fix an effluent leak.

“I… I can show you my résumé.” He looked faint.

Maybe plumbing wasn’t listed as one of his core competencies.

“Okay.”

When Bolin opened his bag to retrieve his résumé from a leather portfolio, I glimpsed a vial of glowing green liquid and blinked. That wasn’t a bottle of cologne. And was that a silvertwignestled in the bag next to the vial?

Bolin noticed me peering in and snapped the man purse shut.

“Are you visiting a coven for a ritual later?” I asked, curious but not that fazed.

An old witch who lived in the complex was my potion supplier, so I had passing familiarity with the paranormal in the Seattle area. After all, I’d been born into a pack of werewolves.

Beeps came from the woods before Bolin could answer. They had an odd twang to them, more like SONAR equipment than the noises the metal detector had made.

Still half-hidden behind the ferns, Duncan gripped anotherdevice in his hands. When he noticed me looking over, he covered it and backed out of view. The strange beeping stopped.

I was going to have to confront the guy; I could tell.

“Here.” Wary, Bolin handed me the paper. He hadn’t answered my question about coven visitations, but he also hadn’t looked puzzled by it.

I skimmed over the résumé. It listed numerous college accolades and extracurricular activities. There was no mention ofworkexperience, not even hinting of a summer spent flipping burgers atWendy’s.

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