by Emma Savant
The tension between them was subtle, and I thought I might have missed it if I hadn’t been so on edge. But the other wolves had noticed, too, and all eyes stayed fixed on the two alphas. This was a test of dominance, I realized; she was challenging Brendan, and I didn’t know what the consequences would be.
“I’m afraid we do,” he said. He smiled warmly down at her, then held out his hand to me.
I hurried to join him. He nodded at the wolves, and I waved, trying to look as innocent and cheerful as possible, before we headed back up the shallow flight of stairs and into the noise and heat of the club.
15
“I wasn’t ready to go,” I said, once we were through the disguised bathroom door and in the dingy bar.
Brendan shushed me and dragged me forward toward the door. I yanked my hand away and followed him. Out on the street, he made a beeline for my bike.
“How did you get here?” I said.
“Rideshare,” he said shortly. “Ride.”
I rolled my eyes and climbed on the bike, and he settled in behind me. He held tightly to my waist as we rode through the dark city streets.
“You want to talk about what happened back there?” I finally said, once we were out of the main part of the city and on the road that led back to the mansion.
He gripped me harder as I made a sharp turn and a mental note to take more risks with my bike whenever he was with me. Brendan drove me crazy at times, but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t love the feeling of his arms around my waist.
“You sure that wolf you met wasn’t that woman?” he asked.
“Pretty damn.”
“I didn’t like her.”
“No kidding,” I said.
He made a disgruntled sound. “Was it that obvious?”
“Only to me,” I said. “You looked friendly enough.”
“I didn’t dare ask if they knew the club owner,” he muttered. “But it wouldn’t surprise me.”
I turned onto the street that led to our secluded, forested neighborhood. “We could have found out more if they hadn’t recognized you.”
I hadn’t meant for the words to come out as an accusation, but they had, and I had to admit I was irritated that our evening had been cut short like that. Who knew how much more information I could have gotten if I’d been working alone, like I’d wanted to in the first place?
He was silent for the rest of the ride. I pulled into the driveway and parked my bike, and he climbed off and then waited for me to cut the engine.
“I think you should bring in one of the Daggers to help on this,” he said. “You need to find that wolf, but you’re clearly going to learn less if you’ve got the alpha of a rival pack with you.”
I nodded, more to show that I’d heard him than because I agreed.
He stood awkwardly, and I thought for a moment whether he was waiting for an invitation to come in. But then he shrugged and turned around.
“I’ll catch you later,” he said, and in another moment, he had disappeared around the corner of the mansion.
I was called in to help the atelier staff finish a length of beaded lace for a movie star’s wedding gown. The bride had called to request a fitting be moved up by two weeks, and it was all hands on deck.
I sat next to a toile that Josette, Carnelian’s première, had been adjusting for part of our next spring collection.
The other sewers chatted around me as we stitched, but I couldn’t pay attention. My thoughts raced with memories of last night. I hadn’t learned much, but now the members of a wolf pack knew my face.
Not just any wolf pack. This was a group that made Brendan nervous.
I didn’t know whether the owner of The Hideout was one of the Burnside pack, and I didn’t know if the werewolf who had attacked me outside Straw had anything to do with either of them.
What I did know was that the werewolves we’d met last night were planning something, and the few words I’d caught about it left me queasy. They’d been talking about attacking some Humdrums, that much was clear. I didn’t know whether they’d meant to turn them or eat them or just scare them, but the word meat had left me unsettled.
“What do you think, Scarlett?”
I jumped and looked up to see Bobbi waiting for my response. I blinked, and she laughed.
“You in there, honey?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. Wandered somewhere else. What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you think your grandma would let us use the showroom for a Halloween party,” she said. “Costume ball? Might be a good way to advertise the house?” She raised her eyebrows and smiled at me. “Didn’t catch any of that, huh?”
My guilty expression must have given me away, because she laughed and patted my knee. “You’re fine, sweetie. Everything okay?”
I loved the sewers in the atelier. Even though some of them, like Bobbi, were only a few years older than me, they all felt like aunts and uncles.
“Everything’s great,” I said. When she raised an eyebrow at me, I added, “I just bite off more than I can chew sometimes. And by sometimes, I mean all times. A Halloween party sounds amazing. I’m sure Grandma would be on board.”
“We were thinking we could open it to everyone for the first few hours,” Ashley said. “Then we could do a ‘Glimmering after hours’ afterparty.”
“Better have a good bouncer,” I said. “Don’t want anyone coming out of the bathroom and running into a baby dragon.”
This was met with laughter and groans. The story of the Humdrum client who’d taken a wrong turn and ended up face-to-face with a Glimmering pop star’s teacup dragon was Carnelian legend.
The conversation continued, and I drifted back to my own thoughts. After I’d talked to the Wildwoods and learned that the werewolf in the alley wasn’t one of theirs, I’d finally told Grandma about my experience—not about my foray into the underground mesmer parlor, but everything that had happened in the alley with the wolf whose memory still made my skin crawl.
Surveilling Straw, according to Grandma, had turned into one of the bigger missions I’d been asking for, so she’d assigned me to keep on it. I’d go watch the business again tonight, this time with plenty of wolfsbane in my pocket, but sitting around and waiting for the wolf to show up wasn’t enough.
If he was part of the Burnside pack I’d met last night, and if the Burnside pack was planning on doing some kind of hunting on Friday, it made sense for me to be there.
Brendan and Alec kept offering to help. Maybe I could take them up on it—claim I had too much work at Carnelian and needed someone to keep an eye on Straw for me. And then I could take off to wherever the wolves were going, assuming I could figure out what they’d meant by their cryptic talk of bamboo forests and a family-owned business.
Friday was two nights from now. I excused myself to the bathroom and texted Brendan and Alec together. The response was quick.
Alec: Of course. Happy to help.
A few minutes later, Brendan sent a thumbs-up and said he had work tonight but could forward a gift card for takeout in case Alec wanted Chinese food while he was working.
It was good to have friends.
I messaged them both with profuse thanks, then stole a few extra minutes in the bathroom to search for anything that looked like wolf bait.
16
I hid my bike in the bushes at the side of the road. The bamboo forest—which wasn’t a forest at all—sat just up the road. I made sure my bike’s bright-red paint was concealed by branches, then moved quietly up the street. It was still light out, with the gray sky barely leaning into evening.
I didn’t know if this was the right place, but out of the dozen possibilities I’d turned up, this was the only one that was both Humdrum-owned and family-run.
I stopped just in sight of the iron sign that arched above the driveway’s entrance: Sticks & Stones Nursery: Family Owned Since 1988, written in large block letters.
Silently, I slipped my way up toward the park
ing lot at the end of the driveway, which still held several cars even though the business had been closed for a couple of hours. Huge stands of bamboo lined the path, grouped into clusters of thick green and thin yellow. Little signs posted into the ground displayed the unpronounceable varieties: phyllostachys bambusoides, phyllostachys vivax, and the stunning beige and blue borinda papyrifera. I took this one in as I passed but didn’t stop to admire.
My senses were on high alert, and it wasn’t long before I heard voices and music rising from the back of the small shop that sat in the middle of the bamboo gardens. I crept around the building and hid behind a bush to survey the commotion.
There was a patio behind the shop. It was covered in tables, which in turn were covered with balloons, brightly wrapped presents, and a large cake. Twinkling lights had been strung between tall bamboo plants, as well as a hand-lettered sign that said Happy Double Digits, Mason & Madison! The words were surrounded by the number 10 and pictures of birthday candles.
There were enough kids here that I couldn’t tell which ones were Mason and Madison. Everyone under twelve or so was playing a game I vaguely remembered from my own childhood, something involving shouting out the names of fruits and hitting each other with rolled-up newspaper. A few parents were monitoring the game, and the rest sat or stood around, talking and nibbling on small sandwiches and baby carrots.
“Banana!” one kid shrieked at the top of his lungs.
I scanned the adults. None of them looked like werewolves to me, but it was impossible to tell. Wolves had some giveaways, I’d learned, subtleties of posture and attention that could alert someone who was paying attention. But it was hard to be sure even knowing that, and no one here set my senses to tingling.
But wolves could be patient, which meant I had to be, too. All I could do now was wait. There were plenty of spots to observe the party from, especially with the help of a concealment glamour. I focused wind energy around my body, willing myself to become as invisible and slippery as a breeze, and whispered the charm that would ensure their eyes passed right over me.
Even with the glamour firmly in place, I didn’t dare rely on it. Instead, I eyed the sloping roof of the shop. The edge of the overhanging roof wasn’t much taller than my head. I jumped and got a firm grip on the rough shingles, then hoisted myself up and crept to the peak of the roof. It was the perfect spot from which to observe.
The sky continued to darken, and the children’s game concluded. Everyone sang the birthday song with more enthusiasm than talent, and then the parents cut the cake and handed out plates to their guests as the birthday twins—who I now recognized as the blond children with similar freckles and snubbed noses—began opening presents. Lights flickered on to illuminate the patio through the dusk.
Everything seemed ordinary.
Maybe this was the wrong place. Maybe I’d guessed incorrectly, and the wolves were about to attack some other innocent Humdrum family who would have no idea how to fight them off.
There had been one other place worth checking. I pulled out my phone to plug in the address and see how far it was, and saw a text from Alec.
Alec: Everything’s quiet here. Hope your designs are coming along!
He was too sweet and too willing to help. A pang of guilt at lying to him like this hit me.
But I’d had to lie. If he’d known this was the reason I’d skipped out on my job for the night, he never would have let me come alone.
I turned to slide back down the roof of Sticks & Stones. In the distance, across the ruffled canopy of bamboo leaves that stretched out in every direction from the shop, a cluster of plants moved.
I tensed and focused. In between the darkening sky and the foliage, I couldn’t see well enough to tell whether it had been a bird or a deer or something far more sinister.
The party continued behind me as someone turned up the volume on the music. Out in the distance, from another direction, more leaves rustled.
I crouched on the roof and held absolutely still, eyes straining against the hazy dusk. There was another rustle from a different direction, and then another.
Birds and deer didn’t act like this.
The Humdrums were surrounded.
I quickly calculated how many wolves were hidden in the bamboo and how far apart they were. My estimate was wobbly, but it was clear I was outnumbered, and the Humdrums at the party were barely less so. If the wolves were in their human form and I could move quietly enough, I had a shot at taking out a few of them before the rest attacked. If they sensed me coming and shifted, I didn’t have a chance.
My heart pounded, and my mind raced through every conceivable outcome. I had enough wolfsbane to deal with a few of the wolves, but there was only one of me and there were many of them—and they were fast, and stronger than I could ever hope to be.
I didn’t want to call in my sisters. I was supposed to be the future Stiletto, and these bigger jobs, assigned or not, were my way of proving myself. And even if I had wanted the help, I couldn’t stand the thought of bringing the other members of my coven in when werewolves were involved. There was already too much tension and prejudice in the house, and this could only make it worse by affirming all their worst beliefs.
Below me, the children started playing tag in the yard just off the patio. A small girl with dark hair darted under the cover of the bamboo and hid behind a cluster of slender branches.
I bit back the shout that rose to my throat.
The wolves were still keeping their distance, perhaps waiting for darkness or the aid of a moon. But if they chose to move, they would be fast.
I didn’t have a choice. I wrapped my hand around the bronze dagger charm that lay under my shirt. I sent out a call for help, a mental image of my location matched with a feeling of urgency.
Werewolves, I thought. Hurry.
17
The instant the charm cooled under my skin, meaning at least one of my sisters had heard the call, I clambered over the peak of the roof and slid down, removing my glamour with a snap as I went. I skidded down the shingles and dropped to the ground in a crouch.
The Humdrums all around seemed too startled to be upset. A dozen pairs of curious eyes focused on me, and one of the children who’d been looking in the right direction shouted, “Whoa!”
Instantly, he was tagged, and he shouted at the other kid about what he’d seen and the unfairness of him being it.
I spun to the woman I’d identified earlier as the birthday twins’ mother.
“You need to get the kids inside,” I said.
My voice was sharp and to the point, and she moved before her mind could catch up with the bizarre nature of the moment. Her husband reached out a hand to stop her.
“Who are you?” he demanded, still more puzzled than angry at the intrusion.
“I’m a private detective,” I said, with the kind of confidence that usually got people to believe lies like that. “I got a tip that someone might try to hurt your kids. I’ve been watching your party. The bad guys are on your property. You need to get these children inside, now.”
He gaped at me for a moment, and I watched the thoughts pass across his face until he realized that, whether I was crazy or not, or right or not, or even real or not, it wasn’t worth an argument if that meant risking his kids. He turned and barked orders at the other adults to round up their children.
I watched the periphery of the lawn for any sign that the wolves were speeding up their attack, but they still seemed far enough away that they couldn’t see or hear what was happening on the patio, or at least not clearly enough. I jogged toward the edge of the lawn as kids and parents walked quickly past me and into the house. One of the mothers was babbling, and her voice was taking on a frantic edge.
“Briar,” she said. “Where’s Briar?”
It took me a moment to realize Briar was a name, not a plant. I turned sharply back to where I’d seen the small, dark-haired girl disappear.
“Little?” I said. “Black
braids?”
She nodded, her eyes huge.
“I’ll get her,” I said. “Go inside with the others.”
“No,” she said flatly.
I sighed and pointed toward the trees. “She went that way. If you see anyone else out there, come back to the house.” I grabbed her shoulder. “Move slowly.”
It’s harder when people run, Alec had told me once when I’d been peppering him with questions about the werewolves. Our instinct is to chase, even if we don’t mean them any harm.
I knew the woman wasn’t listening, and I knew there was nothing I could do short of strong-arming her to keep her from searching for her daughter. I understood the impulse, but it made my job harder.
Now that I was on the ground, I’d lost all sense of the approaching werewolves. I didn’t know how close they were or if they could see us yet.
Never one to take my own advice, I ran at top speed into the trees.
It was dark here, and starting to get cold. While the woman called out her daughter’s name in an increasingly panicked voice, I dropped to a crouch and tried to see the thick bamboo from a child’s perspective. A gap in the bright green stems caught my attention. It was a little wider than the others, so I slipped through it. Not far after that I picked up the girl’s footsteps. I found her sitting on her heels, staring intently at a bug on the ground with a small keychain flashlight.
“Hey, Briar?” I said softly.
She looked up and shone her light at my face. She shrank back as she realized she didn’t recognize me. I crouched next to her and pushed the light gently away.
“Your mom’s trying to find you,” I said. “You need to come back to the house, okay?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I silently wished parents these days weren’t quite so good at teaching stranger danger.
But I didn’t have time to earn the little girl’s trust. She wasn’t moving, so I scooped her up and held her tightly in my arms. She struggled and managed to get one foot free, and a shoe went flying when she kicked. She tried to scream, but I already had one hand pressed over her mouth. She bit down and pinched skin between her teeth.
