Page 49 of Kin of the Wolf

“Ah. For future reference, there’s an M-50 military-grade gas mask in the leasing office.”

He scrutinized me. “I… kind of think you’re not joking.”

“Nope. Are you enjoying your internship?” I grinned at him.

“I…” He trailed off, his gaze drawn to the rhododendron again.

Jasmine, clothed now except for socks and sneakers that she carried in her hand, had left the leaf cover and was walking toward us. She must not have wanted to try to put them on while standing on the damp earth. A lot of dew smothered the grass this morning.

“It’s, uhm, interesting.” Bolin’s wide-eyed gaze locked on her.

“Yup. This is my niece, Jasmine. Jasmine, this is Bolin. He works here.”

Bolin gave me an aggrieved look, at which point I realized his wide eyes might have less to do with surprise than interest.

“Temporarily,” I added. “He’s getting real-world work experience before heading off as a well-paid, world-traveling accountant who’ll have a share in his family’s lucrative apartment business.”

Bolin straightened with pride at this more flattering description,though maybe I should have talked up his personal traits instead of mentioning his parents’ money. Not that most werewolves cared about such things.

“Huh.” Jasmine waved absently at Bolin, then fished a leaf out of her hair and sat down on the dry walkway to put on her socks and shoes. “Aunt Luna, I came because I need to talk to you about something.”

“Do you have enlightening news on the artifacts?”

“No.”

“I was afraid of that.” I fished out my keys to unlock my door.

“I assume you don’t want me to return the Donovans’ damage deposit?” Bolin glanced at me while gazing wistfully at Jasmine, who was brushing dirt off her bare soles before tugging on her socks.

“No. The turn will cost us a lot more than they put down. I’m sure they’ll call and pretend to be mystified aboutwhythey aren’t getting it back though.” I wasn’t that sure about that. Since they’d dropped off the key and slunk away in the night, they probably knew they were disgusting slobs.

“I figured. I can deal with them if they try to get aggressive.” Bolin stood straight, though it was hard for someone to look tough with mussed hair, bags under the eyes, and coffee cups clutched like security blankets.

“Good,” I said.

Busy tying her shoes, Jasmine didn’t look at him. I had a feeling she was unaware that he thought she was cute and wasn’t intentionally giving him the cold shoulder.

“Do you have a cleaning service you use that you want me to call?” Bolin asked. “Or do you handle everything yourself?”

“You’ve seen me scouring the toxic clingy residue out of a unit that was occupied by a smoker. Do you really need to ask?”

“I wasn’t sure if cat poop would prompt you to outsource this one.”

“Nope. I might wear the mask though.” I winked at him as I opened my door.

“There’s also mold on the nasty shower curtain and ceiling in the bathroom,” he warned. “I’ll wager the Donovans never once turned on the fan.”

“Probably not. Did they take the switch plate for that too?”

“No, they left the fan controls alone. They did take the one for the light.”

“People are interesting.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve got everything cleaned,” I said, “and then you can help me apply some of the specialmold-inhibitor paint you made.”

It was a potion, not paint, but he hid his druidic talents since his mother had forbidden him from studying the ancient arts, so I knew he would prefer I not mention them in front of a witness. Even if Jasmine would be unfazed by the existence of druids.

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