“Good kitty,” Logan said, scooping Bonny up in his arms. “You used the litter box. Nothing chewed. What a good, good kitty.” He made kissing noises as he scratched behind Bonny’s ears. Digging into his pocket, he flipped a can of Yummy Vittles Chicken Flavor in the air and caught it. “Look what I picked up for you on the way home.”
He carried Bonny to the kitchen where he dug out a can opener and, setting the cat down, twisted the crank to cut the food open. He tipped it onto a small plate. Bonny meowed and paced the granite island with her trademark irregular gate. Logan slid the plate toward the cat, who dug in without pause, then he retrieved the water dish from the floor.
“So, what did you do all night while I was gone?” Logan scratched along the cat’s back starting at her shoulders. Bonny rounded her back as she ate, pressing her soft fur against Logan’s fingertips.
“You’ll never guess what I did,” Logan said. “Spent the night at Polina’s. Yeah, it was weird. She’s definitely not human. But strangely, I don’t care. She’s not like anyone. I trust her. I even love her.” He folded his arms into a pillow and laid his head down on the counter. “How’s that for a surprise? I never thought I’d love a witch again.”
Bonny finished her breakfast and proceeded to lick her front paws, purring like a lawn mower.
“You like this stuff, eh? I’ll have to get more.” Logan looked at the can. “Huh. It says here I was only supposed to give you half the can. I guess this is your lucky day.”
“Logan.” His mother’s voice made him jump. She stood in the great room, glowing like a lantern, her dark brown hair curled to her shoulders. The sleeves of her pale pink cardigan were pushed to her elbows.
“Mom?” He hadn’t seen her in months. Not since the dream where she’d told him about how Polina had rescued him.
“Polina needs you, Logan. She’s in trouble.” Her voice reverberated in the open space.
He shook his head. “I just left her.”
“Find Silas. You’ll need him.”
“Silas? Does this have to do with the werewolves? The sun hasn’t even set.”
His mother’s translucent head turned toward his front door. “Trouble.”
One knock, then two. “Logan?” a man’s voice called through the door. “It’s Jonah. I need to talk to you about Valentine’s.” His voice was firm, matter of fact.
“Do not go with him, my son. They’ve come for you. Do not take the bait.”
Logan crept to the peephole and peered out into the foyer. Jonah waited. He wasn’t dressed for work, but the restaurant didn’t open for another three hours. The man raised his fist and knocked again. “Logan! It’s important, my man. You in there?”
Maybe it was important. As much as he trusted his ghostly mother, he couldn’t abandon his restaurant.
“Don’t,” his mother said again, shaking her translucent head.
“I can smell you in there, Logan,” Jonah said.
An odd thing for a human to say. Logan’s eyes narrowed. Jonah’s wavy dark blond hair was wilder than normal and the stubble on his face was almost long enough to be called a beard.
He looked at his mother’s ghost again. She unraveled from the inside out and disappeared. Logan cracked the door. “You can smell me? I’ll have to change my cologne.”
“Thank the goddess. You’ve got to come with me. There’s something I have to show you.”
“What? Tell me.”
Jonah balked. “It’s hard to explain. It’ll be better if you see for yourself.”
“Try.” Logan’s gaze flicked to his threshold, hoping that Grateful’s enchantment was all it was cracked up to be.
Jonah’s face fell. His hand shot out toward Logan in an attempt to push through the door, but his knuckles hit the invisible barrier between them, the magic rippling faintly purple.
“What the fuck?” Jonah asked.
Logan’s eyes drifted to Jonah’s shoulder, to a tattoo of a harvest moon with three claw marks ripping through it. The placement was high on his shoulder. Had the man been wearing his uniform, he would have never seen it under the sleeves. It was an odd tattoo, and he’d only seen something like it one time before.
“You can’t come in because you’re a werewolf. Why are you here, Jonah? Full moon tonight. Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”
Jonah’s smile melted into a sneer. “Don’t fight me on this one. You’re a nice enough human but there are bigger forces at work here.”
“What kind of forces?”
Jonah shook his head and took a step back from the door. “You made friends with the wrong werewolf, bro. It’s not you we’re after. You’re just the bait. Cooperate, and I’m sure the alpha will release you when it’s all said and done.”
Logan remembered what Silas had said about the leadership of his pack. This was obviously some sort of pack war. Which reminded him of the dead man in his alley. “Who killed that werewolf they found in my dumpster?”
“A simple case of mistaken identity. I thought he was Silas. That was his job, you know. He was a decoy.”
Logan didn’t understand. Silas had said the man was a decoy for the alpha. “I’m not coming with you.”
“I can wait here all day, brother, and if I’m still here when I shift tonight? Well then, we are going to find out what a three-hundred-pound wolf can do to your foyer.”
“Wait, you shifted last night. Who managed the restaurant?”
“Closed it down before sunset. You’ve got some angry customers.”
“You bastard.” Logan slammed the door and locked it for good measure.
“What do I need to do?” he asked the empty space next to his coffee table.
His mom appeared again. “Find Silas. Show him how to get to Polina. Trust your heart. The time has come for you to make a choice. You have my blessing either way, my son.” She faded away. Bonny meowed at the fade-to-black routine, and continued to stare at the space where his mom had been.
Was it too much to ask for his mother to provide him a few details? Maybe explain how he was supposed to get out of his own apartment with a werewolf watching the front door. But no. An explanation was not forthcoming.
Not sure how much Jonah could hear standing in the hall, Logan texted Silas.
Where are you?
Just woke up. Recovering from last night.
Trouble. Meet me in your office in twenty?
What kind of trouble?
The kind my dead mother thinks is important.
Oh fuck. See you in twenty. Be careful.
Logan bolted into his room and changed into mountain gear: jeans, steel-toed work boots, a T-shirt, and jacket. He packed some necessities in a backpack, then rushed to the window in his spare bedroom. There was a fire escape, although the thing hadn’t been used in decades. Logan didn’t even think it was technically operational. It was more the type of thing that had remained due to the building’s historical significance.
Praying the rusty hinges would hold, he unlocked and pried the window open, then stepped out on the rickety piece of metal. At eighteen stories up, the narrow stairway to the alley below seemed indefinite. But nothing was going to keep him from helping Polina. Leaving the safety of his condominium, he gritted his teeth and started down.