Maybe he’s just being friendly and is looking to connect with old friends. I finally typed in a reply.
Thanks for the invite, but I can’t tonight. I’m out of town.
His reply was immediate.
Ok. Let me know when you’re back?
My heart thumped. Perhaps he wasn’t just looking for old friendships . . .
I typed one word, and then my finger hovered over it. I wondered how wise it was to send, but then I figured I wasn’t committing to anything, so what the hell.
Sure.
I was about to tuck my phone away when I realized that Prisha had planned to join me at the SF this morning. She still didn’t know that the Fire Wolf had broken into my apartment before whisking me halfway across the country.
I shot her a text, telling her my plans had changed and the Fire Wolf had actually taken the job. I knew that if she read it, she would be calling me, so when my phone didn’t ring, I figured she was still sleeping.
But Carlos obviously wasn’t.
I sat on the sofa, nibbling my lip again as I thought about my ex-boyfriend. When we’d first met, Carlos had been a member of the Supernatural Forces, working in their Magical Forensics division. He’d been the only werewolf in that department, but he wasn’t a dominant wolf—more middle of the pack—so Carlos was easy to get along with and was genuinely liked by others.
But despite enjoying his job, he’d quit the SF to travel. He’d wanted to explore the world, so he’d moved from pack to pack as he’d crossed continents, a necessity for a werewolf since he needed to have intermittent contact with other wolves so as not to turn rogue.
Initially, he’d sent me photos from Europe, souvenirs from Botswana, and trinkets from the Middle East. I’d cherished those mementos, but then they’d become less frequent, his emails further apart, and what had initially been weekly calls turned into monthly, and then none at all.
I’d understood his need to explore, even to leave me behind, because I’d wanted him to follow his own path as much as I hadn’t wanted him to go.
But as time had worn on, my initial heartbreak had turned into acceptance, and then I hadn’t felt anything at all. He’d moved on, and I had too. The relationship we’d once shared now seemed like so long ago, as if it had happened between two people I no longer knew.
I sighed. It’d probably been for the best. Tessa’s disappearances had increased after he’d left, which meant that the SF division Carlos once worked for had grown to know me quite well. I cringed to think about Carlos getting dragged into my sister’s drama.
I glanced toward the corner curtain again. The hunter was still scrying. I stood from the couch, feeling restless despite the creeping exhaustion that was beginning to swim through my veins. Keeping my footsteps silent, I traveled around the room, taking in the details of the Fire Wolf’s man cave, before I began quietly opening things in the kitchen.
The fridge held a twelve-pack of craft beer, several gallons of water, a loaf of dense-looking wheat bread, a wedge of cheese, and cold cuts. So the hunter was a sandwich man with an affinity for dark ales.
In the cabinets, a few navy-blue porcelain dishes lay scattered about, all clean. Beside the plates was a canister of enough pre-ground coffee to caffeinate a small army, several cans of cream soups, and a huge canister of roasted nuts. That was all that the Fire Wolf stored in his kitchen. Dense, calorie-laden food. Perfect for packing fuel into your body when you were in a hurry. So he was also practical.
I snuck a look toward the corner again. Another rattle of bones, or whatever the hell he was using, skittered across the floor. Still scrying then.
I ventured to the closet next and opened the double doors. I expected to see several sets of clothes or bedding on the shelves. Instead, my lips parted in surprise at the array of weapons that stared back at me. Enchanted particle guns, throwing stars, lassoes, crossbows, swords, wooden stakes, daggers, spears, and every size of blade. Several human weapons were also neatly stored in the large closet—assault rifles and a shotgun. And to the side, an entire rack of potions sat arranged in neat little bottles.
Curiosity filled me. So the Fire Wolf not only fought with magic, but he used weapons and witch-brewed potions too. Interesting. He was turning out to be quite well rounded.
I ran my finger along the tip of a throwing star. Its razor-sharp surface nicked my skin, drawing a drop of blood. I instinctively brought it to my mouth just as something glinted deep within the closet.
I pushed a row of hanging leather strips aside to see a huge black axe hanging in the very back of the closet.
My eyes widened. It was so dark, it gleamed like obsidian, and a heavy pulsing aura seemed to surround it, as though its blade were magic itself. Heady energy grew in the space, and something deep inside me beckoned me to move closer, to caress its onyx handle and gilded blade. The weapon was power itself. I itched to feel it, to—
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice rumbled from behind me.
I shrieked and whirled around, mortification filling me.
The Fire Wolf stared down at me, his eyes a rolling sea of fire. “And if you’re done looking through my things, we can find your sister.”
Oh shit. I somehow managed a shaky smile despite being caught red-handed. I eased the closet doors closed behind me. “I’m sorry. The wait was getting a bit long, and I . . . I was having a hard time sitting still. Sorry.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that also why you looked through my kitchen and cupboards?”
A flush stained my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to snoop.”
“Or you didn’t mean to get caught.” He reached past me and tugged the door back open before pulling out one of the leather strips. After slipping it on, I realized it was a harness that wrapped around his huge chest and flexed with his every move. The hunter added a variety of weapons to it as I tried to ignore the way it hugged his broad shoulders and clung to his toned waist. When he finished, he looked ready for combat.
“If you’re done gawking, your sister is waiting.”
My heart leaped. “Do you know where she is?”
“I have a good idea.”
“So you were scrying.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you stay put on the couch at all?”
I gave him a pointed look. “Actually, yes, I did initially, and despite”—I swallowed awkwardly and gestured toward the kitchen and closet—“having a look at a few things, I stayed away from the corner you were working in so I wouldn’t disturb you.”
“Then how did you know I was scrying?”
“Because your curtain isn’t opaque with the candles. I could see your outline.” A very nice outline, but I kept that thought to myself. “And I have ears. I could hear your chanting and when you scattered bones or whatever they were on the floor.”
His lips twitched. “Bones?”
“Or marbles. I mean, I don’t really know much about scrying, so I’m just guessing here.”
His amused expression stayed in place as he nodded toward the wall we’d stepped through to enter his man cave. “We’ll have to go back the way we came. I can’t conjure a portal in here.”
“Because your wards won’t allow it?”
“Something like that.”
I followed the Fire Wolf to the wall. As before, he threaded his fingers through mine, and I desperately tried to ignore the feel of his hand, but my belly still tightened and a flood of awareness shot through me. I blamed it on his combat attire. I’d always had a thing for a man in uniform.