Page 17 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part Two

I was, once again, employed by the enemy for our shenanigans. Naturally, Leo had been against it. He was worried we were risking my life for no reason, and while I wasn’t ignorant of the danger, there was something I had that no one else in our network did.

I was human.

The same thing that put me at such incredible risk also gave me the ability to fly under the radar. The brothers hadn’t hired a fancy shifter-only catering business for their little gala event—the cover for the auction. I didn’t quite understand why what should have been a secret event amongst only magical folk needed such a cover until America’s brother, Alejandro, had explained that there wouldn’t only be magic users at this event.

Apparently, some humans also had knowledge of the magical underbelly of the world and profited from it. Alejandro had chuckled at my look of shock and horror, gently patting my shoulder before telling me it was just as bad as I was thinking.

Gross. So gross. Humans were bad for Leo and everyone like him—we were really bad for the environment—but I’d been relieved that we weren’t the main bad guys for once. Now thatI knew at least a handful of humans were involved in shifter trafficking? Well, it was like a punch to the gut.

That had motivated me to swallow down any fear and agree to be in for pretty much the rest of the plan. I got hired by the catering company and put on the team thanks to the mindwalker who set up the fake identity. She’d sat outside the hiring office while I was interviewed and worked her magic. We didn’t know her name, which I guessed was on purpose. She was powerful and in the business of helping people in trouble. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had a lot of equally powerful enemies.

Still, I’d have liked to get to know her and for her to feel safe enough to join our rapidly growing ramshackle community.

“You said the kitchen, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, right by the pile of other boxes.”

“Got it.”

Although I didn’t have the ability to sense magic, it was hard not to feel as if the very walls of the place were leaking evil. I tried not to think of what horrific things went on underneath all the finery.

The estate we were on was even grander than Chadwicke’s, except it had more of an old Hollywood charm. Everything was glamour, prestige, and opulence. The grounds were all English gardens and sprawling in nature, but meticulously maintained in a way that a layperson wouldn’t recognize. The valet area was behind the mansion and yet it was more decorated than some quinceañeras were, with beautiful floating lights leading the way in. When I’d first arrived, I’d tried to figure out what kind of gadget would allow them to do that before I remembered that we were entering the territory of warlocks and witches. I was sure floating lights weren’t exactly all that demanding for their magical ability.

As usual, I made mental notes of any useful information: the position of the guards, points of interest, possible areas to hide. Itried to make sure I didn’t forget anything, because if something slipped my mind and got one of our friends killed, I would never forgive myself.

So, yeah, no pressure.

It wasn’t like I had a lot of time, either. We’d tried to get the mindwalker to help us with actual plan, but she told us that was a step too far and it could endanger her entire network of contacts. I was intrigued at some underground magical brotherhood, but the woman had gone tightlipped after that. Although it was frustrating, I had to appreciate how much she valued the safety of the people who relied on her. Maybe with several years of consistent contact, we would be able to win her trust. If only that could have happened before the auction.

This was only the second day I’d had access to the site since the caterer had done a rehearsal the day before hiring me. I’d never known there were actual rehearsals for something as simple as serving food, but apparently the level of grandiosity the brothers required meant every detail had to be gone over once, twice, thrice.

Rich people were absolutely wild.

Still, I was grateful for the extra time, and once I set the box down, I headed off toward one of the doors on my list, gripping the can of air cleaner in my apron pocket.

One of my jobs was to break locks on certain doors. It wasn’t like we had a hard and fast list of which ones would be useful, but we had found records from when the mansion first was codified, and we were going off those to eliminate choke points or places we could get cornered.

So, yeah, it was a pretty damn important job for someone who worked in a grocery store.

Just stay cool, I thought to myself as I walked toward my target. I intended to simply pass the door, since there had been a guard right by it every other time I’d checked, but it seemedhe’d either moved to another position or gone to the bathroom, because the coast was clear.

I pulled both my phone and the can of air cleaner out of my pocket. Hopefully, if someone did stumble across me, I could play it off that I’d found a quiet corner where I could text while on the clock. Still risky considering our client could possibly turn me into a frog, but better than being caught in act of subterfuge.

With my cover established, I turned the air can upside down and pulled on the trigger. Not everyone knew it, but when you did that, it let out a freezing spray that could do a lot of damage to anything with tiny mechanical parts. Like a lock. I emptied the whole bottle as quickly as I could, then turned the knob back and forth until I heard a slight cracking sound.

Perfect. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough for a human to open it, but a shifter? It definitely weakened it enough that they could break it with a hard jerk.

Pleased with myself, I slid the air can back in my pocket, only to hear footsteps rapidly approaching me.

Shit!

“What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be in this area.”

I whirled around to see one of the staff. Thankfully not a guard, but not exactly great, either. I opened my mouth to say I was texting my friend, when they kept right on speaking.

“What’s that you’re holding in your pocket?”

Jeez. Observant, weren’t they? Time to go with Plan B.

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