Page 5 of Kin of the Wolf

“I think I need a mission, Duncan,” I admitted as I set his Americano on the counter next to him.

He was peeling off strips of bacon and laying them in the pan. “A mission? I have just the thing.”

“Does it involve magnets or magic detectors?”

“Ofcourse.” Duncan looked at me as if I would be foolish to believe otherwise. “I’ve been eyeing a fascinating little oasis by a convenience store a few blocks away. There’s a boardwalk halfway around a pond with a dock that sticks out into it. Further, there’s a cement post thrusting up out of the water on one side, the top sheared off, an ode to a mysterious past era.”

“Are you talking about that scummy pond where kids feed the ducks? I think that post had a bat house on it at one point.”

“There could be all manner of treasures sunken into the muddy depths under the murky surface.” Duncan spread his arms with enthusiasm for this idea.

“Judging by all the loaves of bread that go down duck gullets, there’s a lot of poop in the muddy depths.”

“The pond calls to me.”

“You’re a weirdo, Duncan.”

“As we’ve established. But if you don’t find fulfillment in replacing faucets and toting toilets around this hive of humanity, perhaps you are correct in seeking a quest.”

“The toilets aren’tunfulfilling. I like taking care of the people here. But the maintenance problems here aren’t that challenging to me.”

Not mentally stimulating. Maybe that was the right term.

“It’s likely a boon for your dwellers if the toilets are unchallenging,” Duncan said.

“I think they prefer them that way, yes.”

“Is this all you have?” He held up the last strip of the pound of bacon he’d already crammed into the pan. It wasn’t going to cook evenly. “I assume you’ll want some. A werewolf can’t subsist ondairy products alone. That’s not even enterically wise for our kind.”

“Uh-huh. Bacon is expensive. You’re only supposed to eat a few slices at a time.” I waved to the fridge. “There are some eggs in the bottom drawer. And what I meant about needing a mission is that… Oh, I don’t know. Now that my boys have moved out and are more or less self-sufficient, I feel… I don’t know. I used to have to take care of them, and I was on a mission to mold them into decent human beings without the awful tendencies of their father. Now… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, other than keeping bad guys from vandalizing cars in the parking lot and shooting up the complex.”

“Those seem like quite noble goals.”

“And more stimulating than poking through duck droppings for treasures, I suppose.” I emptied the portafilter basket and ground more beans.

“Oh, I beg to differ. With as much foot traffic as that pond sees, we’re bound to find something good. It’s the weekend, is it not? You don’t need to work here today, do you? You could come with me.”

“I… always have work here that I can do, and I have to be on-call for emergencies, but the leasing office will be closed.”

Duncan gazed at me. “I don’t know if you answered my question or not.”

“I know.” I pressed the button to make another Americano.

“Since I don’t have any children—probably—” His brow furrowed as he seemed to reconsider that statement before shrugging and continuing. “I can’t say that I’ve exactly experienced what you’re going through, but it makes sense that enjoying motherhood and its duties fulfilled you.”

“Enjoying isn’t quite the word I would use.”

Hedefinitelyhadn’t experienced parenthood.

Duncan waved away the comment and continued. “It’s naturalthat you would seek fulfillment in another vein. And the puzzle of this wolf case has been placed in your lap. Whywouldn’tyou want to solve that mystery? Maybe you weremeantto solve it.” He pushed the bacon around to make room for a ridiculous number of eggs, emptying the cartoon that should have lasted another week. It was like having teenagers in the apartment all over again. “Perhaps it isn’t that you found the case but that the case found you.”

“You’rethe one who found it. By waving your magic detector all over my apartment without asking permission.”

“That is true, but you should feel vastly grateful for my intervention. Now you’ve a fascinating artifact to research.” Duncan found tongs in a drawer, extracted a lopsidedly cooked piece of bacon from the pan, and offered it to me. “You’re welcome.”

“That’s half raw. You’re a better pitmaster than short-order cook.”

“A touch of rawness can’t bother you. It’s not like that mouse you chomped down last night was fricasséed.”

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