Page 4 of Curse of the Wolf
“With your hand on my ass?”
“My hand wasn’t there.”
“It would have been.” He grinned.
“So cocky and sure of yourself.” I picked up the phone to see who had called.
Bolin. He was still at the apartment complex. I dialed him back.
“Is that a feature or a flaw?” Duncan grabbed his shirt but sat without putting it on, either to wait for his skin to dry or because he believed I preferred the display.
“Probably both. Hi, Bolin,” I said as soon as he picked up. “What’s up?”
“Uh, are you okay?”
Maybe a bit breathless, but… “Yeah. I’ve been working out.”
Technically true. Duncan grinned again.
“Okay. Well, I thought you’d want to know right away…”
My bedroom thoughts evaporated as my stomach sank with the certainty of what he would say before he said it.
“There are a couple of serious buyers here at the complex. They’re getting a tour, but they already said they’re going to put in an offer. If it’s as good as they’re implying, I think my parents will accept it.”
I sank down onto the bench as my earlier dark thoughts returned. I was about to lose my job and my home.
2
Since my truckwas in the shop for repairs—repairs that had been required after enemies rammed it, hoping to send it hurtling down a mountainside—Duncan gave me a ride back to Sylvan Serenity.
As we drove in, I braced myself for an unfamiliar Lexus or BMW on the premises, the type of car driven by those with the means to make an offer on an apartment complex with more than two hundred units spread across several acres in a prime Seattle suburb.
But the hulking SUV parked next to Bolin’s Mercedes G-Wagon was familiar, and, if Jasmine’s research had been correct, cost a lot more than a run-of-the-mill luxury car. And why wouldn’t it? With its military-upgrade package, it was not only armored but had night vision, EMP protection, and electrified door handles. I hadn’t seen those in action, but I’d felt the impact—theliteralimpact—of its heavy-duty ram bumper.
“What the hell is thatthingdoing here?” I demanded from the passenger seat of Duncan’s van, my knees up to my chin since his equipment occupied the foot space. Even though he’d only worked for Radomir and Abrams against his wishes,compelled by their magical control device, I couldn’t keep from casting him an accusing look.
Duncan shook his head with puzzlement. “I don’t know.”
“If they came to rob me, they’re too late. Someotherthugs already handled that.”
“You do still have the wolf case.” Duncan parked in a different lane and turned off the engine. “They were never interested in the sword. They’ve only been collecting artifacts related to werewolves.”
“I know all about their collection.”
“They may have sent some of their potion-enhanced brutes to try to get the case from you,” Duncan said, looking toward the SUV, “but I’m surprised they would do so during the day. They haven’t yet been that open with their attacks.”
I grumbled and jumped out, the urge to kick some asses creeping into me. More than that, the urge to turnwolfcrept into me. Heat flushed my skin, and magic pricked all along my nerves.
Hand on the door, I took a deep breath to steady myself and willed the change to back off. This wasn’t the time or place. A thought that became more true when I spotted Bolin and his parents—the owners of Sylvan Serenity and my employers—walking out of the leasing office. The last thing I needed was for them to see me change into a wolf in their parking lot.
But when two older men walked out behind them, the magic flared within me again. Radomir, his wispy hair appearing even thinner and paler in daylight, and the seventy-something Abrams, wearing a rumpled business suit that looked like it had been stored in a Mason jar. Maybe his medical scrubs and rubber gloves hadn’t been deemed appropriate for this setting.
I shook my head. I hadn’t seen them together since Duncan and I had broken into their lair at the lavender farm and potion factory in Arlington. Their brazenness in coming here openlygalled me. Didn’t they know they werevillains? Villains were supposed to skulk about in the night, not stroll through an apartment complex in the middle of the day.
Fingers flexing, I stalked toward the sidewalk that bordered the parking lot. What I would say to them, I didn’t know, but if I could get them away from the Sylvans and other witnesses, punching would be involved. Maybe clawing and biting—whether I changed or not.
Bolin noticed me and lifted a tentative hand, mouthing something as he tilted his head backward, toward the two older men. I squinted, not sure what that word had been. He mouthed it again.
