Their sudden clattering of chairs and rustle of bags drew some attention from the other customers. The trio filed out first, the woman striding assertively in front.
Bryce clapped Cam on the shoulder, chuckling in his ear. ‘She’s a firebrand, that one. Name’s Elsie. Best not to get on her bad side.’
‘You trust them?’ Cam asked, keeping his voice low.
‘Worked with ’em before. They’re good at what they do.’ Bryce lugged a duffel bag over one shoulder. ‘Take care of y’self, kid.’
Kid,Cam noted with a surly frown. ‘You too.’
Bryce disappeared into the snow.
Cam shot Lachlan a brief nod before folding his apron away behind the counter and heading upstairs. He was grateful to remove the talisman; his eyes twinged as they relaxed. Time to get on with the witchiest of all witchcraft pursuits: reading.
Cam laid a small fire in the grate and settled himself on the couch in front of it with his notebook open on his lap. The book was thick with extra sheets of paper and coloured sticky notes poking out at odd angles. His notes on witchcraft were scattered and random—a mishmash of reactions to immediate problems he’d faced and subjects he’d simply found interesting while poring over the Walker ledgers. He’d included a page on werewolves early on because it was one of the monsters he’d recognised from television and movies.
It turned out that werewolves, or lycanthropes, were just another kind of shapeshifter: human, until they chose not to be. Apparently born this way and descending from some ancient wolfish race of fae, most of the supernatural world considered them vicious mongrels. Half-breeds, with little control over their animal side. Shunned and hunted because of their brutality when in werewolf form. It wasn’t possible to ‘catch’ lycanthropy from a bite, like horror movies had led Cam to expect. But they were certainly monsters, and the Walker witches had worked closely with someone called the Wulver to drive them out of Scotland completely in the seventeenth century.
Some of the movie lore held up, though. Werewolves were supposedly vulnerable to silver and wolfsbane.
Cam rolled his eyes. Just about everything should be vulnerable to wolfsbane, considering the note he’d scrawled by the side of it.Seriously poisonous. Don’t go near it.But maybe he’d locate some, just in case.
He pulled out his phone and tapped a quick text to his aunt, Meredith.Any wolfsbane in the house?
Her reply arrived only a minute later.Will check. What for?
Cam grappled briefly with whether or not to tell her. She’d worry. But she also might find something useful.Werewolf.
He could hear the screech in her voice from the next message.What???
Just taking precautions. Bryce is hunting it.Cam typed back.
A longer gap this time.Bryce is there? Where r u?
Cam rolled his eyes. Meredith was shameless. He supposed she and Bryce were probably about the same age, but it still felt weird that she should want to flirt with someone Cam considered a vaguely uncle-like figure. Not that Cam would make it easy for her.Note on fridge. Look up info on werewolves pls?
She replied with a winky face.Gotcha honey.
Cam sighed. He hoped Meredith didn’t take that as an invitation to visit. He’d been careful not to tell hertoomuch about where he was spending his free time lately, but he had to let her know when he was leaving the Glencoe cottage empty. She only lived down the road from it, and she’d panic if she couldn’t find him there unexpectedly. Sometimes she hovered around him so closely that it bordered on neurotic.
Not that Cam could really blame her. She’d lost both her brother and her best friend to the Scorch. Meredith had been a permanent fixture in his life while his parents were alive, and she’d remained steadfast in that role even after they’d expired in a whirlwind of flames. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d wanted to completely cut ties with his family. If she’d wanted to forget everything that his mother, Amelie, and father, Evan, had spent their lives working on.
Instead, she’d all but adopted Cam. Worked as hard as she could to understand the responsibilities he was taking on his shoulders. So, he could probably forgive her over-protective tendencies. And her more cringeworthy romantic leanings.
An hour later another text pinged on his phone.Can’t find note. Where r u?
Cam scratched his head, reluctant to give Meredith any encouragement. But it was important she could find him if really necessary. Suppressing a snarky remark, he sent her the directions to The Lucky Teapot. And tacked on,Found wolfsbane?
Not yet hon,she replied, and the conversation went silent again.
He got back to reading. After staring at the same notes for several hours and finding nothing else of use in all his other erratic scrawls, Cam’s mind was beginning to wander when Lachlan’s soft footfalls announced his approach on the stairs.
‘Don’t forget to eat,’ Lachlan said, placing a thick bloomer sandwich next to him.
Cam’s stomach growled its appreciation and he set down his notes. ‘It’s gone quiet downstairs.’
Lachlan’s fingers trailed up Cam’s thigh. ‘We’re past lunch, so I don’t think we’ll get anyone else in now. I may shut up early.’
‘So we can go look for the werewolf?’ Cam made sure his grin was lascivious, so Lachlan knew that was definitely not what he was actually suggesting. It triggered the blush he was hoping for.
