Page 83 of It All Started with a Bite

“What happened to car chases and explosions?” Bo huffed.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if it involved car chases and explosions,” the witch muttered.

“Ditto,” Gavin said distractedly.

He was peering through the lens of a high-powered camera at an apartment building down the road. The dragon newt was surprisingly focused on our surveillance operation, his nostrils occasionally sparking as he concentrated.

“At least a hot dog cart going past would be nice,” Bo grumbled.

I couldn’t exactly disagree with him.

We’d been watching Wheeler’s registered address all morning. So far, the only exciting thing that had happened was a kid dropping an ice-cream cone on the sidewalk and two seagulls fighting over it like it was the Holy Grail.

The Crossroads was aptly named. Supernatural and human businesses operated side by side, though the humans remained oblivious to their otherworldly neighbors. A vampire-run coffee shop going by Bloody Good Coffeesat next to a normal bakery. A pixie flower shop was doing business alongside a convenience store.

“So,” Didi said, shooting an overly casual glance my way, “how did the Council meeting go?”

Gavin’s horns perked up.

I swallowed a groan. It was clear both of them were dying to know what had happened yesterday afternoon.

“It was…” I faltered for a beat. “Interesting.”

“That bad, huh?”

I grimaced. It seemed I was going to have to tell them about it whether I liked it or not.

“Let’s just say I may have threatened to punch several Council members in the throat.”

Gavin choked on his energy drink.

“Let me guess?” Didi rolled her eyes. “Helen Sheridan?”

“Bingo.”

“It’s a miracle no one’s turned that woman into a newt yet. No offense, Gavin.”

“None taken.”

I hesitated. “What do you guys know about Priscilla Holt?”

Didi and Gavin traded a cautious look.

“She comes from a very old werewolf family,” the witch said carefully. “Rumor is her ancestors were in New England before the Hawthornes arrived from the Old Continent.”

I digested this information with a frown. Was that the reason Priscilla disliked the Hawthornes being referred to as the most powerful pack in Amberford?

“Do you know anything about her husband’s disappearance?”

Didi drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

“The supernatural task force did a thorough investigation into the incident. I remember because it was all over the papers and on TV. They concluded he was the victim of a deal gone wrong.” The witch shrugged at my puzzled stare. “The Holt pack owns a third of the businesses in Amberford.”

The more I learned about the supernatural community I now belonged to, the more uneasy I became. Life as a human seemed like a picnic compared to the perils of my new werewolf existence.

I thought back to last night’s conversation. “What about Priscilla’s son?”

“You mean Marcus Holt?” Didi said.

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