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The streets stunk of wolves. I parked four blocks over from the museum but ended up veering out of my way when the first wave of fur hit me. Ducking down behind a hedge, I surveyed the dark and empty street.
Nobody was present, but the strength of the scent suggested werewolves had been here recently. Perhaps they’d passed by repeatedly? Best guess, these were Rowan’s henchmen, patrolling the city to ensure no one else made the same faux pas I had. I wasn’t so sure the safe-passage card in my wallet would be enough to get me off the hook a second time if I was caught.
So don’t get caught. I crept toward the darkened house the hedges surrounded, intending to cut through the backyard and find a less wolfy route leading to my destination. Only problem? The residents had installed motion-activated floodlights. The sudden flare of fluorescence was blinding. I jerked, twisting my injured ankle the tiniest bit and setting off a cascade of pain.
“It’s not that bad,” I muttered as I retreated. Back to the street and away from the backyard that was now fully illuminated. It was safer to risk Rowan’s scouts than it was to set off a burglar alarm and draw in human police.
Stepping back onto the sidewalk, I ignored the prickling of skin that promised I was acting like prey at a watering hole. The streetlight’s glow wasn’t as intense as that of the security light, but it was more wide-ranging. The open street made it impossible to guard my back and my front at the same time...
A yip made me jump. Wolf, not dog. And close, somewhere between me and the museum....
I hesitated, eying the path ahead where a streetlight had burned out and plunged the street into total darkness. I was going to be late if I didn’t keep walking.
But late was better than caught. Late was better than explaining myself to Rowan when Lupe wasn’t there to bail me out a second time.
I retreated to Butch’s car and eased the vehicle back onto the street.
***
IT TOOK TWO TRIES TO find a wolf-free parking space. Even then, I didn’t trust that patrols wouldn’t stumble upon my trail as soon as I rounded the first corner.
So I used an old dog trick, finding a patch of fresh excrement and step-smearing awfulness across the bottom of my tennis shoes. Marina was going to turn up her nose even worse than usual when she came within nose range, but shifters sniffing at my trail would think I was just a scent-challenged human. They’d never guess I was another wolf.
By the time I reached the museum, the lights were out and the steps were empty. No wonder—it was closer to 8 than 7:30. Still, I found a shadowed spot behind a Grecian column and settled down to wait.
And wait. And wait. When I’d arrived, I was panting from evasive actions and wincing at each step on my throbbing ankle. Now, the only sensation was chill from the marble beneath my butt.
Well, part of that chill may also have emanated from the questions running through my head. Why was I hanging out in such a dangerous spot when Marina looked to be a no-show? Did I have a death wish? Or—as seemed more likely—an inability to relax into a friendly gathering complete with bonfire and s’mores?
The image of Tank twirling Harper’s marshmallow stick over flickering flames warmed me ever so slightly. Warmed me enough that I was able to tamp down my indecision and rise, stuffing cold fingers into not-quite-so-cold pockets.
Whether Marina had stood me up or I’d missed her due to tardiness, we weren’t meeting tonight. I might as well ditch my stinky shoes, return Butch’s car, and hope he hadn’t noticed it was missing.
I took a step...and my phone chirped. As if someone was close enough to see I was about to leave and, only then, chose to contact me.
“You’re being paranoid,” I muttered.
But when I looked at the screen, the text had come from an unknown number. “Something came up.”
“Marina?” I typed back, peering out at the street as best I could without raising my head and making it obvious I thought she was watching.
A couple strolled past arm-in-arm. Multiple busy cafes and restaurants boasted full views of the museum. My boss could be anywhere, or nowhere.
Meanwhile, her answer was fast but vague. “I’ll be in touch.”
I waited a solid minute, expecting further explanation. But nothing else came through after that.
Eventually, I put away my phone, stretching and turning for one more view of my surroundings. There were too many people present to tell whether one was a watcher for Marina. And the longer I hung out here, the more likely I was to run into another werewolf.
You won this round, Marina, I admitted. Still, I’d learned something in the process.
My employer was testing me and I’d passed. I’d passed...even if it was at the expense of my self esteem.
***
THE PRIVATE CAMPGROUND was dark by the time I rolled back up the drive. Giggles from the girls’ cabin promised that Harper was fine, but everyone else seemed to have followed Lupe’s advice and turned in early.
I did my best to park exactly where I’d found the convertible, then I debated whether to return the keys. Perhaps if I left them on the leather seat, Butch might think he’d made a mistake and forgotten to place them on his tree shelf? The chance of me sneaking into Butch’s cabin with him present seemed halfway between zero and zilch.
My ankle wasn’t the only reason I winced as I wavered between the car and Butch’s cabin. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. Wasn’t used to working around people I’d have to eat breakfast with the next morning. Or to having my sister a hundred yards away from the crime scene.
Each step now sent a spike of pain through my ankle. Each thought of Harper sent a similar spike of pain through my gut.
I shouldn’t have brought her here. I should have found another way to....
The scent of approaching fur warned me one second before a hand clamped down over my mouth.