Chapter 8

8

With fury and fear flooding me with adrenaline, I dropped the tiny camera onto the nightstand under my feet and stomped on it to break it. I wished I could also break the neck of whatever creep had planted it.

On the third stomp, a tiny snap sounded. White light flashed, and a pulse of magical energy surged up my leg, pitching me backward. I tumbled off the nightstand and struck the wall.

Duncan sprang forward and caught me before I pitched to the floor. I groaned, belatedly remembering that his magic detector had alerted us to the device, meaning it hadn’t come out of a box from RadioShack.

After mumbling a thank-you, I wriggled free from his grip. I resolutely grabbed my saw and walked around the bed toward the other corner.

“Do you have any idea who would want to spy on you?” Duncan asked.

“No.” As I shoved the other nightstand into the corner, I thought of my werewolf family, the cousin I hadn’t yet called. But there was no reason the pack would want to spy on me. And certainly not in my bedroom . That was what made this extra creepy. How often had I wandered naked from the shower out to the dresser to grab clothes? And when my husband had been here, we’d had sex right under those cameras. If they’d been there that long. Had they? “I don’t suppose your device can tell me when these were installed?”

“No. Sorry.” Duncan’s voice came from the floor. He’d pushed the bed back and knelt so he could remove the vent cover.

“Do you mind?”

“Helping you? Not at all.”

“Do you mind not snooping right in front of me? If there’s any searching to do, I’ll do it.” After finding the camera, I dreaded learning what might be down in the heat duct. Already, I wasn’t sure I wanted a witness for this. Duncan probably thought I was a deviant, or had dated deviants, someone who’d put this stuff up there.

But who did I know who would have had access to my apartment? And who knew where to acquire magical items? I’d never even heard of magical cameras. Where did one go to buy them? An alchemist with an electronics background?

“Of course, my lady.” Duncan rose, lifting his hands. “I’m merely trying to be helpful. And I’m always curious. I admitted that, didn’t I?”

“Just… write down whatever you need to know about that potion, okay? That would be helpful. I need to find someone to make it before…” Before the full moon, I thought but didn’t say. “Just before.”

Duncan watched me as I lifted the saw to drill another hole. “May I ask a question?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Something told me he wanted to know why I took the potions instead of embracing my heritage, my heritage that could turn me into an animal with the power to kill. The distressingly easy power to kill.

“Potion, then. Right.” Duncan turned toward the dresser.

I drilled the hole and found another camera plugged in above the ceiling, its power cord running who knew where. Again, I yanked it out, snapping the connection. I was tempted to stomp on it to destroy it, hardly caring if the magic knocked me on my ass again, but it was probably a good idea to leave it intact and try to figure out where it was transmitting. Was it hooked up to my Wi-Fi? Or someone else’s Wi-Fi? There were dozens of networks in the apartment complex, and I never would have noticed if another had appeared. Nor was I a techy person who would have noticed if a foreign device was using mine. Did these cameras even need a network? Maybe the magic allowed them to magically transmit the feed to…

To where?

“I wonder if Chad did it,” I muttered, staring at the device in my palm.

He was a mundane human, but he’d always been interested in magic, and he might have figured out where to buy such a thing. But why would he have cared about spying on me after he left? Out of jealousy? To make sure I didn’t hook up with another guy?

He’d been hooking up with women left and right, so that would be hypocrisy, but I wouldn’t put it past him. When we’d been together, he’d snapped at other men who’d flirted or even looked too long at me. That might even have been the reason I’d stopped wearing makeup and dressing in anything that showed off skin or curves. To make those incidents less likely to occur.

“Is Chad your husband?” Duncan had the potion vial up, squinting at the label.

“My ex -husband.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“He didn’t leave . I kicked the cheating bastard out. If he’d had his way, he would have kept returning from his business trips to shag me in between screwing every bimbo along the way, including that blonde girl he’s yachting around the world with now. Assuming she hasn’t gotten sick of him and kicked him out. He never had money for a boat. I know that’s her yacht.”

Duncan looked up, his lips parting. With surprise? Sympathy?

“I’m sorry. That must have been rough on you. And your kids.” He nodded toward the photos of them on the wall.

I snapped my jaw shut. I hadn’t meant to let that rant out and reveal so much of my personal life to a stranger.

“He’s been gone for almost three years,” I said, answering his earlier question. “You think the magic in these could have worked and been transmitting for that long?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any way to tell where they were transmitting?”

Duncan hesitated. “There might be, but it’s beyond my knowledge. We’d have to find an expert. I can ask my contacts or the local alchemist when I give her the information on this.” He held up the potion. “It’s helpful that some of the ingredients are written on the label. Gardenia oil, dried snakeskin, banana slug slime, birch bark, and blood of the natterjack toad. Must be a tasty tincture.”

“I shove chocolate in my mouth after swallowing it.”

“Understandable.”

Duncan picked up a tube on the dresser. Hell, was that my estradiol cream? I hadn’t expected visitors, so I hadn’t tidied up.

“What’s this?” he asked. “Another potion?”

“No.” I winced. “Put that down. Or in the drawer, please.” I hopped down from the nightstand to grab it from him.

He started to obey, pulling out the drawer, but he also read the label. That prompted him to squawk and drop it on the floor.

I rolled my eyes. “Really, dude? The slug slime and toad blood didn’t bother you, but the hormone cream made you shriek? ”

“No. Yes.” Duncan lifted his hands and backed into the doorway, as if he’d dropped a viper and it was slithering after him. “It wasn’t a shriek . I just didn’t realize… I mean, I knew women did things for… things, but I thought it was when they were older. You seem, you know. Healthy. And, uhm. Vibrant.” He looked me up and down.

“I am healthy and vibrant. I’m just of an age where the hormones are fluctuating.”

“The, uhm, your blood doesn’t… keep you and your parts all… fit?”

Not when I took a potion to dull the wolf, no. Was werewolf blood even supposed to change anything about female hormones? I could have asked my mother if we’d spoken in the last decade…

“Just finish writing down the potion ingredients, please,” I told him.

“Yes, of course.” Duncan took his magic detector and the vial out to the table.

Well, I’d found a way to keep guys out of my bedroom at least. Snorting, I put the tube in the drawer. I tucked the camera in the drawer too, stuffing it in a sock so that it wouldn’t see anything until I could find an expert to examine it.

“Are you going to check the duct?” Duncan asked.

“Maybe later.”

In private , I didn’t say. A part of me wanted to leave it be, but what if the person or people who’d put the cameras in my bedroom figured out I’d found them? And what if that prompted them to activate whatever else was in there? Some Plan B. Maybe I could sleep in my sons’ room for a while…

“It’s none of my business, of course,” Duncan said while he wrote down ingredients, “but the cameras seem a little malevolent.”

“Tell me about it.”

“If you unearth a dangerous artifact, it could have defenses that’ll do more than knock you back. You might want someone here in case things go wrong.”

Not a bad point, but I didn’t want to have to trust a stranger—a stranger who might have ulterior motives—to call an ambulance for me. Who could I trust?

I had friends that I’d made during my years living as a normal human, but they didn’t know anything about the paranormal. If I tried to explain this, they would think I was insane. The same held true for the tenants, especially since my alchemist lady had disappeared. I was on friendly terms with a lot of the long-term residents here, but you were supposed to ask neighbors for a cup of sugar, not to call 9-1-1 if a magical artifact kicked your ass.

Maybe I could have Bolin stand by. He knew about magic, and, even if I barely knew him, I’d worked for his parents forever. That meant I knew a lot more about him than I did about Duncan.

But… Duncan was here. And I might need that magic detector to figure out the exact location of the whatever it was.

I sighed. “I doubt anyone put a dangerous artifact in my heat duct, but if you want to stay, fine.”

“Okay.” Duncan rose from his chair and stepped toward the bedroom, but he glanced warily at the dresser before crossing the threshold.

“I put the cream away. I didn’t want to hear you shriek again.”

Duncan squinted at me. “I’m feeling the urge to do something strong and fierce to remind you that I’m quite manly.”

“If you want, I can find something heavy for you to carry for me later.” I pushed the bed frame farther away from the wall.

“That might do it. Something made from metal and spikes.”

“I’ve got three kinds of rakes if you want to tackle the leaves outside.” I waved out the window toward the autumn foliage scattering the lawn.

“Hm. Would you consider such an activity manly?”

“ Extremely.” I knelt to remove the vent cover. “Sexy too.” I waggled my eyebrows at him, deciding that if I succeeded at inveigling him into doing yard work, I would offer him free parking for the rest of the week.

“Would you want me to do it shirtless?”

“That’s optional, though Grammy Tootie in C-3 would have her nose pressed to the window watching. I always catch her sneaking peeks at our contractors.”

“I’d be more interested in your nose against the window.”

“My nose is distracted right now.” With the vent cover removed, I dropped to my belly and lowered my flashlight into the hole. Of course, the duct immediately turned a corner, so I couldn’t see to the spot the magic detector had liked. The duct did look like it headed in the right direction to go past it. “I don’t see anything glowing,” I offered.

“I wouldn’t think whoever placed the item would have chosen that location if unexpected illumination might have seeped through the vent and alerted you to its presence.”

“I don’t spend a lot of time looking under the bed for strange glows coming from the ducts,” I said, but he was right. I would have noticed something like that at night with the lights out. “I can’t imagine why there would even be something down there.”

“Because it’s a good hiding spot,” Duncan said with certainty. And a little excitement. Because he had the heart of a treasure hunter? Probably. “I doubt whoever put the cameras up there anticipated someone cruising through your apartment with a magic detector.”

“With reason.”

I twisted to poke my arm into the duct, deciding I was glad I wasn’t alone. I might never admit it aloud, but the entire situation creeped me out. Images came to mind of rats and snakes and more inimical things lurking around the corner of the duct.

My phone rang in my pocket. One-handedly, I toggled it to silence without looking at the screen .

“I should have made you do this.” I patted about, shifting so I could extend my arm deeper and trying not to think about getting stuck. “To prove your manliness.”

“That is more in line with my special abilities than wielding a rake. If there’s anything metal on whatever it is, I could get my magnet to slide down there.”

“We can try that if—” My knuckles brushed something, and a zing shot up my arm.

I drew back, hesitant. It hadn’t exactly hurt, but it had seemed like a warning. Like maybe if I offended whatever it was, it would hurt me. Further, I wasn’t sure if I could reach deep enough to grab it fully. Had it felt metal? Magnetic? Maybe. It had been cool.

“Did you find something?” Duncan knelt close, looking at the vent and my face intently, eagerly.

“Yeah.” I eyed him.

The intentness was such a contrast to his usual affable smiles that it was unsettling. Was it possible he had expected to find something odd in my apartment? I didn’t see how, as this was beyond puzzling to me, but he’d brought that magic detector in. And, despite his comments about analyzing my potion, he’d yet to swing the device over it. Could it really analyze alchemical ingredients?

“Can you get it?” Duncan asked. “Do you want me to try?”

I started to say no , but I doubted I could reach it. I would have to go down to the crawlspace and cut into the duct from below. Then I would have to later repair the duct.

“Go ahead and try.” I drew my arm back. “But it zapped me, so be careful.”

“You’d be distressed if magic sizzled up my arm and blackened my handsome features?”

“I’d be distressed if I had to explain to the police why there was a dead werewolf on my bedroom floor.” I raised frank eyebrows as I shifted away from the duct. It had felt daring saying that, and I was curious what his reaction would be. He knew I was a werewolf, and I knew he was a werewolf, but it was the first either of us had spoken the word.

Duncan didn’t show signs of surprise, only taking my place on the floor. “You can tell them we were having sex, and your great beauty and vigor roused me to such a frenetic extent that I had a heart attack.”

“There’s no way I’m saying that for a police report.” After thinking for a moment, I added, “I’d probably put gloves on and roll you out into the woods.”

He laughed as he slid his arm into the duct. From the awkward position, he met my eyes. “You’re a more interesting person than I expected.”

“You expected to meet me when you showed up in the woods next door?”

“Well, no. When I first saw you, I thought you were pretty, but I didn’t imagine you having, you know, personality.” He winked at me, but he looked a little flustered.

“You didn’t think someone carrying a toilet across the parking lot would have personality?”

He laughed again. “I suppose I should have.”

Something about his comments seemed off—had he expected to meet me before he’d arrived to metal detect out there? I was about to probe further, but his eyes lit with excitement.

“Ah! I’ve got—” He jerked his arm back, delight turning to pain as he gasped and winced. “Something that does indeed defend itself.”

“I’ll get my oven mitts.” I headed for the kitchen.

“To roll my body out to the woods?”

“To insulate your hands, in case it helps.” I had no idea if padded mitts could protect one from magical zaps, but they couldn’t hurt.

When I returned, Duncan had pulled his arm out of the duct and fished a small tin out of his pocket. It was the kind of thing lip balm came in, but the contents glowed a faint violet. He rubbed some over his hand, held up a finger, then slid his arm back into the duct.

“You came prepared.” I laid the mitts on the dresser.

“You never know when a little anti-magic cream will come in handy.”

“Uh-huh.” I had a feeling my first hunch about Duncan had been correct, that I was right to be suspicious of him. “What’d you say you were looking for in the woods over there?”

“Treasures.”

“I think you’re full of shit, Duncan Calderwood.”

“I’m touched that you remember my name. Your attentive interest makes me want to fulfill your every desire later.”

“You can start with the raking.”

“Shirtlessly, yes.”

“That’s your choice.”

He shifted his arm deeper. “Got it.”

He grimaced but didn’t wince as deeply as before as he pulled his arm out. He held a weathered ivory case about six inches long and four inches wide, with decorative vines, leaves, and flowers carved on all the sides except the top. The lid held a wolf with its snout tilted toward the moon, its jaws parted to reveal its long, sharp teeth.

A chill went through me, the certainty that it wasn’t an accident that the case had been hidden in my apartment. But by whom? And when?

I’d been in this apartment for more than twenty years. The building was decades older than that, but the ducts had been cleaned four or five years back. If the case had been there then, it would have been discovered by a bewildered HVAC technician.

Chad was the only person I could imagine who might have stashed something in here during that time frame, but where would he have gotten a magical case? And why choose something with a wolf on top? He’d always been into werewolves, but he hadn’t collected lupine tchotchkes, as far as I knew, when we’d been married. This was more than a tchotchke , but it was easier imagining it appealing to my kind than a mundane human.

Could someone in my family have come by when I’d been gone and tucked the case into the vent for safekeeping? In a place where the rest of the pack wouldn’t look? It could make sense. Since I’d ostracized myself, my family members probably didn’t spend any time thinking about me—or my apartment.

Using the hand he’d rubbed the cream on, Duncan tried to open the silver clasp, but there was a tiny lock that kept it fastened. He attempted to wiggle the lid free. Nothing happened.

“Hm.” He turned the case about, examining the hinges. They also appeared to be made from silver. “It looks old, but it’s quite sturdy. And probably reinforced with magic. I guess I won’t ask you to stomp on it to open it.”

“I only stomp on things to destroy them. That’s beautiful. It belongs on an ornate fireplace mantel.”

“Don’t you want to find out what’s inside?” Judging from the way he turned it all about, he wanted that. “I hear something clunking around in there.”

I squinted at him, wondering if this was what he’d come for. He’d mentioned that people hired him to find things. Had someone known about this object and done exactly that?

“Not if it involves being zapped,” I said.

Still holding the case, almost cradling it to his chest with love, Duncan rose. “Do you want me to take it to the alchemist and see if?—”

“No.” I grabbed an oven mitt and plucked the case from his grip, certain that if he walked out with it, I would never see him or it again. If he disappeared from my life, I wouldn’t tear up, but I was interested in finding out what the case was and why someone had been monitoring my bedroom with cameras.

“You’re certain?”

“I am.” In my grip, the case sizzled a magical protest, my oven mitt not as useful as his magical goo, but I gritted my teeth and endured the pain.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know yet.” With him watching, I nestled it in the top drawer of my dresser, next to the sock with the camera. I smirked and put the tube of hormone cream over it.

He snorted. “You want to make sure I don’t come back for it, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” I narrowed my eyes as I regarded him. “If you linger around the premises, it had better be to rake the lawn.”

His eyes narrowed in return, a challenge in them. Or maybe that was calculation . Was I going to have to guard that case to keep him from sneaking back to get it?

“I did agree to that task, didn’t I?” Duncan asked, making me regret that I’d suggested it.

If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have an excuse to stick around. Still, it might be better to know where he was than wonder where he was.

“You did,” I said. “You wanted to show off your manliness and were excited by the prospect of Grammy Tootie watching.”

“Oh yeah. That got my engine revved up.”

Duncan returned to the table and tucked the vial and list of ingredients he’d written into his pocket. He started for the door but paused to look thoughtfully back at me. “You said the rake is in your maintenance shed?”

“ Three rakes are in there. Take your pick.”

“I will.” Before heading for the door, he removed his shirt and tossed it on the back of a chair.

Lean and muscular, with a few old scars, he was as fit as I’d imagined after seeing him fight. I kept my face neutral and folded my arms over my chest, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me ogle his torso. My gaze did snag on ropy scars around each of his wrists. Those had to have a story.

At the door, he halted abruptly before opening it. With an odd note in his voice, he asked, “Were you expecting company?”

“No.”

Someone outside knocked, fist thumping the door with the subtlety of a battering ram.

“It’s a werewolf,” Duncan said quietly.

Fresh unease swept through me, and I pulled out my phone with a mix of dread and certainty to see who’d called earlier. My cousin Augustus.