Page 18 of The Vampire in the Potting Shed

“You could get in so much trouble for this, and it was such a stupid thing for me to do.”

“A wolf with its paw in a trap will chew off its own leg to get free,” she said softly.

“That’s grim.”

“Look, the way I see it, your dad knows the important parts. The break-in. Myrtle. The footage of the guy who may or may not be the vampire from the potting shed. With his resources, he’ll figure out the rest.”

“You’re really not going to tell him,” I realized, barely trusting my instincts that I had read her right.

“Clearly, we have work to do on the trust front, but I get it.” She smiled when the waitress returned with the pitcher of beer and two full glasses. “How about I give you leverage on me?”

“No.” I took a long drink. “I’m not going to hold you hostage.”

Even I knew that a friendship built on tit for tat didn’t have much hope for success.

“Okay.” A faint smile twitched in her cheek as she lifted her glass. “Here’s to not taking hostages.”

“No hostages,” I repeated, clinking my glass against hers.

Soon after we refilled our drinks, the waitress arrived with our lunch, and we dug into our meals.

I had a healthy appetite, but I didn’t require nearly the calories as a shifter who could, you know, shift. A small pizza hitthe spot most days, but nerves had me shoving my plate away at the halfway mark. There was one more detail I ought to share with her, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to own up to the charm.

That bit of magic had been my escape hatch every time I reached a point where I couldn’t breathe, and I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to fully cut off my emergency oxygen supply.

eight

No sooner hadwe tipped our waitress and stepped onto the sidewalk, ready to burn off the yummy carbs on the walk back to GSG, than a familiar voice snarled into his phone several yards to our left.

“Stalker.” I wasn’t surprised Bowie had followed me, someone did every single day, so I elected to ignore his outburst. “No wonder he wanted me to eat with him if he’s under orders to shadow me everywhere I go.”

“We’re downwind,” Sloane murmured. “I don’t think he’s noticed us yet.”

“Hmm.” Curious what, other than me, would have lured him from his post, I strained to hear anything damning he had to say to the person on the other end of the line. “Care to eavesdrop?”

Sloane, God help her, grinned at me and tuned in while I struggled to locate the on switch in myself.

Most of the time, I kept my senses dulled to avoid overstimulation from the barking, whining, and general chaos of working among animals. I missed a few things that way, but I had never been allowed to rely on myself for protection, so I didn’t see the point in suffering eight hours a day for nothing.

“…still there…” Bowie dragged a hand through his hair. “…Sartori can’t know I…”

About to follow to find out just what he didn’t want Dad knowing about, Sloane gripped my arm. She held me back as a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. Bowie, still on the phone, got in, not missing a beat.

“I only caught the tail end of that.” I sagged as he drove out of sight. “What did you hear?”

“The Walsh situation is heating up, whatever that is, and time is running out. Bowie has done something he doesn’t want your dad to know about, but he didn’t say what.” She turned thoughtful. “I can tell you the guy in that car wasn’t pack. I caught a whiff of him when Bowie opened the door. I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

Another problem with leashing my senses was I got so tuned in to whichever one I was amplifying, I lost track of the others. If I had the driver’s scent, I could have filed it away in case I ever ran across it again. But I had missed that chance for a few words that lacked any true context.

“I have an appointment at one.” I frowned down the street. “We should get back to work.”

“Yeah.” Sloane fell in step with me. “I need to walk Bailey and clean her suite.”

A text chime had me reaching for my phone, but I already had a good idea of who it would be.

Mercer.

>>Bowie had a family emergency.

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