Page 55 of Kin of the Wolf

“Becauseyou’renot ravenous.”

“I’ve got your groceries in my fridge if you’re hungry.” I pointed to the label. “These were made with milk chocolate, not dark.”

“I doubt that would affect my appreciation of them.” He opened the lid.

“Yeah, but you know I didn’t send it. I prefer dark chocolate.” I held up a finger as he dug out a strip. “Someone who knows me and wantedyou tothinkI sent these might not have been enough of a chocolate aficionado to know about or care about the difference.”

“What are you saying?”

I took the strip from his fingers. “That we should have our new alchemist friend test it for substancesnotlisted in the ingredients.” I tossed it back into the box.

“You think it’spoisoned?”

“I don’t know, but there are people who want you dead.” I told him about Jasmine’s visit and the warning she’d given.

Duncan looked mournfully into the box.

“It would be particularly loathsome to poison chocolate.” I typed the name of the chocolatier into my phone to look up the business. “Who would do something so vile?”

“I’d say the same kind of person who fantasizes about using an expensive cashmere sweater for dusting, but I know you didn’t do it.”

I didn’t get any results back from the search. Someone had made up the company name.

“You’re that certain I want to keep you alive, huh?” I showed Duncan the search results in case he and his empty stomach needed further convincing that the contents should be left alone.

“I trust that, one, you wouldn’t defile chocolate so, and, two, you adore me and would never wish me harm.”

“But especially one, right?”

“Quite.”

With palpable reluctance, Duncan closed the box. After considering it thoughtfully, he placed it on the passenger seat in the van.

“I believe I will visit Rue,” he said.

“She may press you into helping her pack.”

“It would be worth it to find out if these are poisoned.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “And who in the Seattle area might have purchased such a poison and from where.”

“I hope she has answers for you.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

“I’m tired. I need to go to sleep early tonight. And I definitely don’t want to help someone pack.”

“All right. I’ll keep you updated.”

As he drove off, I made a call.

“Hi, Luna,” Jasmine answered.

“Hey. Is there anyone in the family, anyone who’s on Augustus’s side about things, who likes to bake? Or specifically make candies and other desserts?”

It wasn’t a field that werewolves typically went into—butchery and meat smoking were more aligned with our natural talents—but that didn’t mean that such things couldn’t happen. Our kind weren’t completely immune to the allure of sugar.

“Aunt Martina,” Jasmine offered after a moment. “I wouldn’t say she’s on Augustus’s side, but she makes things for the kids for birthdays and holidays.”

“Like chocolates?”

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