Page 20 of The Wolfing Hour
One perfectly shaped eyebrow went up. “Everything okay?”
“We’re good. Got another errand to run, so we should head out. Let me know if your customer needs more of the tincture.”
From the corner of my eye, I spied a display of lucky coins. Bronwyn sold real magical supplies and artifacts to paranormals and benign magical trinkets to the humans who frequented her shop. The coins were geared to humans, but I knew someone who’d love one.
I dug my wallet out of my bag.
Cecil was lounging in the cat car seat, hat flopped back, bare feet dangling, when Fennel and I returned. The belladonna was wrapped in a neat bundle in the back seat.
“Thanks,” I said, and gave him the coin.
He took it in his tiny hands and examined the surface. Ran his finger over the reeded edge. Bit down on it.
“Geez, you already know it’s not actual money, Cecil. It’s for good luck. Plus, it’s shiny, and I know how much you like?—”
A black SUV with illegally tinted windows appeared on the street, slowing at the entrance to the parking lot. There was a second’s pause then the driver hit the gas and sped off.
Mason?
I narrowed my eyes.Floyd?
Maybe. Weird that he’d show up here, considering even I hadn’t known I’d be stopping by, but then maybe he hadn’t been looking for me. Or it hadn’t been Mason or Floyd.
I really wished I’d taken the time to memorize the plate numbers of all the pack SUVs. Although, given the number of Pallás wolves who owned black SUVs, that would’ve taken a while.
Fennel chose this moment to jump onto my lap and dig his claws into my jeans.
“Ouch!” I bucked, and he flew into the passenger seat, his tail smacking Cecil’s hat back. “That hurt like hell, cat. Trim your nails or I’m going to do it.”
He held up a paw, claws extended.
“What even is your deal?” I looked at him while I asked, but my gaze kept crawling back to where I’d spotted the SUV. It was out of sight, of course, and had been since speeding past the lot. Still, it bothered me.
“ME-OW.”
“Seriously, cat, what is your problem?” But I knew. He wanted to know what had wiped the smile of my face in Wicked.
He growled and held up his right front paw, brandishing all five claws like ninja stars.
“Okay, okay. Sheesh, you’re demanding. I’m going to tell you everything. Back off.”
Cecil tucked the coin into his hat, straightened it atop his head, and sat at attention.
“Yeah. Something’s bothering me. It’s the reason we’re going to see Sexton.”
As I spoke, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Same brown eyes, black-brown hair, killer shade of red lipstick. Still me.
“There was something in the mirror today. Before you ask, no, it wasn’t Bloody Mary. It was me. And yet not.”
Giving the most succinct explanation I could manage, I described the haunting grayed-out image that had popped into my bathroom mirror.
“Me-ow.”
“I know,” I replied. “Coupled with what happened last night, it’s worrisome. Don’t mind admitting I’m a little freaked out.”
Cecil chittered.
“Fine. Alotfreaked out. That’s why I wanted you guys with me when I talk to Sexton. I need the moral support.”
