Page 9 of Curse of the Wolf
I couldn’t tell. He didn’t seem to be masking his features. His expression was calm, as if we were discussing the weather. Or, I supposed, artifacts.
“How’s your life force?” I asked.
My voice almost cracked on the term. That worry and guilt hadn’t left. If anything, having Duncan in front of me made the feelings stronger, and my throat grew tight.
He turned his palm toward the sky. “I feel hale.”
“Youseemedhale in the dojo when you were flattening me to the wall.”
“You say that as if you didn’t enjoythe flattening.”
My cheeks heated. I had enjoyed it. And he knew it.
“It was a good way to assess your health,” I said. “Your life force.”
“Is that what you were doing when you slid your tongue into my mouth?”
“Yeah, it’s called probing. Medical professionals do it all the time.”
“Usually with less evocative instruments.”
“Duncan,” I said, my emotions bubbling over. “I’m sorry I destroyed that thing. All I ever wanted to do was steal it so they couldn’t use it to control you anymore.”
“That was your plan from the beginning? When you wanted to follow me up there?”
I hadn’t mentioned that goal to him, worried he would stop me because he believed it too dangerous. Now, I wished Ihadasked him about the control device. He might have known he was linked to it, that destroying it could kill him. At leastaccording to Abrams. Thus far, Duncan seemed skeptical about that.
“It was,” I said. “I should have told you.”
“I thought it might be something like that. You wanted to help me. I can’t be upset about that.”
“Yes, you can. I didn’t intend this. It was a mistake. Like I said, I only wanted to take that device—there’s nothing wrong with thieving from thieves, right?”
“It does seem fair.” Duncan smiled and stepped forward to hug me.
It was a gentle embrace, almost as if he needed support as much as I did. This time, there was no probing on either of our parts. I leaned my face against his shoulder, and he stroked the back of my head.
For a while, we stood like that, the birds chirping cheerfully, the freeway traffic audible but muted through the trees. In the street, the police car left as another arrived to take its spot.
“Change of shift,” I murmured.
A parcel-delivery van rolled into the lot. Assuming it was bringing something for a tenant, I didn’t think anything of it until the driver stepped out with a cardboard overnight-delivery envelope and headed toward the Roadtrek.
Duncan sighed as the guy tucked it under a windshield wiper and marked the task as complete on his electronic device. It wasn’t the first time something had been delivered to Duncan’s van. Last time, it had been poisoned chocolate.
“Do you want to see what that is?” I asked.
“No.” Duncan also had to be thinking about the poisoned chocolate.
But my cousin who’d masterminded that plot was dead. This had to be something else.
Despite hisno, Duncan released me and headed to the van. I went with him, afraid this had to do with Radomir and Abrams.
As the delivery vehicle drove away, Duncan opened the envelope and withdrew a single piece of paper with a letter typed on it. He let me read it over his arm.
Mr. Calderwood,
Your lady acquaintance has done us no favors by destroying the device that was linked to you. Lord Abrams has informed me that it is—that itwas—bound to your life and that you’ll soon die. Since you’ve proven useful, though you were recalcitrant at times and failed to bring thecorrectmedallion to me, I do not wish that fate for you. We might yet work together for the betterment not only of the werewolf species but of mankind as a whole. As my own mortality makes itself known, my so-called golden years drawing nearer, I seek to leave a legacy, to help people.
