Page 38 of Curse of the Wolf
Perhaps having similar thoughts as I’d had, Duncan gazed up at the teenagers. Other than the underaged drinking, they didn’t seem to be partaking in any crimes. One even pointed at me and gave Duncan a thumbs-up.
“It is a quiet night at my store, perhaps because you are standing guard nearby?—”
Standing guard. Right.
“—but a business acquaintance of mine called and wishes to know if you are available to stop a crime. He is one of the ones I’ve spoken with about putting together funds to pay you for protecting the small businesses in the neighborhood.”
I kept telling him they didn’t need to pay me to help out, but since I’d done nothing to solve the problem, I didn’t bring that up again. “I… guess I’m available.”
Duncan sighed wistfully—maybe he’d also been thinking of activities we might want to engage in if time was running out. But he didn’t object.
“My acquaintance is Harold Chen. He owns the discount movie theater a few blocks away. Some of the local gang members rode their motorcycles into his parking lot, strode inside without paying, helped themselves to concessions, and are now watching a movie. The police said they would send a patrol car over when they have time, but they categorized the crime as minor and sounded busy with more pressing matters. Unfortunate, because these small crimes pave the way for larger ones. Further, one movie-goer reported that one of the men grew lewd with her and tried to grab her. When my acquaintance confronted him, the man punched him and said to make it a private showing if he had a problem with complaints.”
“We need to figure out who’s in charge of those guys and put an end to theirgang.” I doubted Radomir and Abrams had anything to do with that. They were merely taking advantage of the locals being available to pester me.
“Yes,” Minato said in agreement. “I will tell him you are coming.”
“Maybe the one masterminding the thefts will be there.” I shrugged apologetically at Duncan for needing to leave when he was feeling low.
“I’ll go with you to check. We can continue our impromptu date.”
“Jasmine did suggest we might want to go on a hunt together. That it would be romantic.” I doubted she’d meant the hunt should be in a movie theater.
“I’m sure it will be.”
12
When we droveup to the theater, the owner—Harold—was pacing outside the small box office. Since the last showing for the night had already started, there weren’t many people around. Harold pushed a hand through his short graying hair and frowned uncertainly at Duncan’s camper van until we parked and stepped out. Then his dark eyes widened with recognition, and he sprang upon me in relief.
I’d never seen him before but sensed, as with Minato’s wife, a hint of power within him. Another member of the paranormal community as well as the business community. Funny how many magically-inclined people ended up working for themselves. Or maybe it wasn’t. We tended to be quirky with attributes that didn’t lend themselves well to normal employment.
“Ms. Valens.” Harold pulled out his phone, tapping the photos app. “Thank you for coming. I can sense the lupine power rippling about you. It’swonderful.”
“It has its moments.”
When Duncan stepped up beside me, Harold looked at him, lips parting in surprise. “Youalsohave lupine power. It blazes like the sun.”
“Nice of you to notice.” Duncan bowed amiably toward him.
“Mine only ripples,” I said.
“But the ripples are so lovely and appealing,” Duncan said.
“Should that bolster me so that I don’t feel lesser next to you?”
Duncan nodded, but Harold spoke again before he could reply.
“You arebothmagnificent. I know you will be able to handle this problem. These brutes are in the first theater inside.” Harold showed us a photo he’d taken of the men raiding his concessions stand, helping themselves to popcorn and arms full of boxes of candy. Judging by how much they were taking, the police categorizing the crime as minor didn’t seem right. That had to be hundreds of dollars’ worth of snacks.
“Eating food like that, it’s surprising they’ve amassed such bulk,” Duncan murmured, flexing a biceps.
“Carbs are great for making you big,” I said. “It’s what they give cows before slaughter.”
“Skittles and Junior Mints?”
“Well, corn and barley. I’m sure a cow would eat a Junior Mint if offered one.”
Duncan shook his head and said, “Herbivores,” in the same kind of superior way my mother might have. Leave it to werewolves to be snobby about other animals’ dietary preferences.
