Page 32 of It All Started with a Bite

“Could Abby be a super werewolf?” Bo asked in an awed voice as I crossed the clearing to join them.

“Super how?” Samuel said guardedly.

Bo fidgeted. “You know, superstrong, superfast, super—snarky? Is there such a thing in werewolf world?”

“No.” Samuel studied me with a frown when I reached them. “How about we stop here for the night?”

I swallowed, unsure if it was disappointment or annoyance I was feeling. I’d executed his every instruction just like he’d told me to and yet I couldn’t help but feel like I’d done something terrible.

Samuel’s face softened at my expression. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Abby.” His fingers brushed mine as he took the ball back, causing the mate bond to hum between us. “It’s just—I’ve never seen or heard of a newly turned human adapting to their inner wolf this fast. It’s almost like you were meant to be a werewolf.”

Mrs. Chen’s chilling words came to me in that moment. From the nervous look Bo gave me, he was recalling the same.

Samuel ran a hand through his hair. “I need to talk to Victoria and our pack about this.” His eyes darkened a little as he watched me. “Maybe someone knows something I don’t.”

The trip back to Parkside was taken up with him telling me and Bo the rest of the Hawthorne pack rules. He took out his cell after he pulled up outside our apartment building and started typing.

“I’m sending you an address.” His fingers moved rapidly on the digital keyboard. “Be there at nine a.m. sharp tomorrow.”

My phone pinged. I looked at the text he’d just sent me.

It was in downtown Amberford.

“Where is this?” I said warily.

“It’s the headquarters of Hawthorne & Associates, our family firm. We’re always in need of a good accountant.”

“Oh.” My chest tightened as I stared at him. “You’re offering me a job?”

He hesitated, a strange look flitting in his gaze. “Yes.”

11

Welcome to the Firm (Terms and Conditions Apply)

The Victorian buildingnext to the park in the business district looked exactly like what you’d expect from a place in Amberford’s most expensive real estate: all red brick, ornate cornices, sparkling windows, and gleaming fixtures. You could almost smell the money in the air.

A large brass nameplate beside the impressive front doors readHawthorne & Associates: Financial Servicesin elegant script.

What the nameplate didn’t mention was the smaller firm operating from inside it. The one with the innocuous sign readingAudit or Diejust beneath it.

I stood on the sidewalk, staring at that sign while my blood pressure steadily rose.

“What’s the matter?” Bo asked warily.

“That’s the firm that audited my old work place,” I ground out.

“Oh,” Bo murmured awkwardly. He scratched his ear. “I guess that explains why Samuel looked weird when you mentioned you’d been fired.”

I scowled. It also explained the guilty expression he’d sported as he’d driven off hastily last night, like the hounds of Hell were on his wolfy tail.

A stylish woman in a designer suit gave Bo a strange look as she passed us. Not because he was talking, but because he was wearing a service dog vest.

“I still can’t believe you made me put this on,” Bo grumbled.

“Would you rather wait in the car? Or better still, spend a day with a stress-baking Ellie?”

“No!” Bo protested quickly. “She’s trying new recipes today. I don’t wanna be poisoned.” His tail drooped. “Still, this vest itches.”

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