Page 95 of Wind with a Chance of Wolfsbane

Craig lifted a hand. “No. It’s cool. I’ve got some supplies in the back of my car for the clinic out at the estate. This will give me a chance to drop them off there today.”

“Hmm, funny how that worked out,” said Marcy, sounding anything but surprised.

Jonathan glanced at the door to the home, his thoughts returning to Willa.

Marcy touched his arm. “Go on back in. Trust me.”

“You promise to go with Craig and to listen to him?” asked Jonathan.

“I promise to go with him,” she said with a nod, conveniently leaving off the part about agreeing to listen.

Craig laughed. “Probably as good as you’re going to get out of her.”

Jonathan agreed. “Okay, I guess that works, but Craig, donotlet her drive your car.”

Marcy huffed. “Fuddy-duddy.”

Craig ushered Marcy down the stairs of the porch.

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Marcy at the base of the steps. “Can you call your brother, Beau, and tell him he needs to head to the airport later today? We have guests who will be coming in.”

“We do?” asked Craig, glancing back at Jonathan.

“Yes, we do,” Marcy responded right before she began asking Craig about his love life and if he had anyone special in it.

Jonathan seized the moment to head back into the home, feeling a little out of place since Marcy was no longer with him. It wasn’t as if he was close to anyone in the home. He knew Stratton, but they didn’t hang out. He’d only just met Astria and Drest.

The pull to be near Willa was simply too hard to resist. He didn’t plan to act on the impulse to kiss her, but he did want to speak with her about Detroit. He also needed to make sure she got her journal and necklace back, though he wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of confessing he’d read her private thoughts.

Read them? Ha. Try memorized them, he said to himself as he glanced around the large living room area in search of Willa.

She wasn’t there. Not only that but there was a new scent in the house. One that hadn’t been there minutes ago. As the smell of candy floss and raspberries rushed over him, his wolf went totally and utterly still within him, recognizing the scent as well.

It was her!

His mate.

ChapterThirty

Jonathan

Jonathan paidno mind to anyone else in the home as he tracked the scent. He found himself in the kitchen, staring at an open door and a staircase. He hurried up the stairs, desperation clinging to his every movement. He followed the scent across the hall and directly into a large bedroom. In it were two twin beds, each positioned against a wall. Matching desks formed an L-shape as they met at a corner of the room.

Jonathan turned in a circle, scanning the room. His mate’s scent was stronger here. The wolf retreated enough to let Jonathan think. It took him a second to gather enough control to focus on what he was and wasn’t seeing.

He went first to the bed on the left of the room. Inhaling deeply, he let his mate’s scent wash over him. He leaned and skimmed his hand over the bedding, wondering what she looked like and how long ago she’d been there. He moved then to the desk nearest that bed.

He froze as his gaze landed on something he’d never thought he’d see again.

The gold Patek Phillippe pocket watch that Hawkins had given him long ago. The very one he’d lost in Detroit. With a gasp, Jonathan snatched hold of it, instantly smelling his mate on it as well. His heart hammered wildly as he noticed an old copy of the novelDracula. Normally, he’d have ignored it since he greatly disliked the novel. But this copy was oddly familiar.

With his free hand, he lifted it and opened it. Before him were the annotations he’d written years ago at Seward’s suggestion. Along with his remarks, there were others written in a script that wasn’t his own, but it was familiar all the same. He knew this handwriting well. He’d spent twenty-two years reading a journal penned in it.

Confused, he eased back and turned, noticing framed pictures on a large chest of drawers. He went toward the photos, still clutching the book and the watch. He shoved the pocket watch into his front pocket and set the novel on top of the dresser as he lifted one of the photos.

The picture was of two little girls around the age of three on a set of park swings. The girls were dressed alike, and there was no denying they were identical in looks. He set the photo down and lifted another framed picture. This one had the twins in it again, this time a bit older, maybe seven or eight. They weren’t alone. They were standing in front of two people Jonathan knew well.

Alvin and Kate Murray.

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