by Emma Savant
“Too bad we didn’t place bets before this round,” Brendan said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a few small coins. He tossed a couple of copper ones onto the table.
“Comets?” I said. “Come on, do you want to give us away as total amateurs?” I added a few nickel stars to the pile.
“Some of us are broke trying to take care of our families,” he said.
I pursed my lips, then gave him a handful of stars and one silver moon. It was a lot of cash for me but would barely let us pass as people who belonged in this environment.
“So generous of you,” he said, and I got the impression I’d wounded his pride.
I rolled my eyes.
“You can give it back later,” I said. “Assuming I don’t clean you out.”
He added a couple of stars to the pile.
Halfway through our next round, right after the mesmer table exploded in cheers and screams, Brendan’s eyes twitched and his shoulders tensed. I strained to hear the wolves’ conversation over the cacophony.
“… bamboo forest right in town,” one of the men was saying. “There’s prime meat.”
“Faeries or elves?” a woman asked. “Or naiads? Love me some fresh naiad.”
I cringed inwardly but took care to not let it show on my face. I tossed down another card, and so did Brendan.
“Humdrums,” the first man said. “Family-owned business.”
“Boring.”
“They have kids.”
A ripple of interest passed through the group, and my stomach lurched. I looked sharply up at Brendan, but he was careful to keep his focus on the cards in his hand. He laid one down, very precisely.
“Your turn,” he said, voice steady.
I drew my next card and made a show of rearranging them.
“When are you going?” one of the younger men asked.
From what I could tell out of the corner of my eye, he seemed to be one of the lower-ranking members of the group. He was eager, overly so, and the others barely acknowledged him.
“Yeah, when are you going?” someone else echoed. The first man ignored them and studied the cards in his hand.
He pushed some chips to the center of the table.
“Friday,” he said without looking up. “Few of us are going to check it out.”
“Who are you taking?”
“Dunno,” the man said. “Guess it depends on who’s nicest to me.”
The group laughed, and they moved on to other topics. Brendan and I continued our game in silence. After a while, a few other people joined the group at the poker table, and one of them approached us.
“Mind if we borrow this chair?” the man asked, his hand already on the back of the empty seat at our table.
I tensed but smiled up at him.
“Go for it,” I said.
He thanked me, and then his gaze caught on Brendan, who was carefully examining his cards.
“Hey, I know you,” the man said.
Brendan looked up, then quickly back down. “Don’t think so.”
“I do,” he said. “Smell you, too. You’re Wildwood pack.”
Brendan’s jaw tensed, but he offered the man with a friendly smile. “Yeah, sure am. You know us?”
The man held out a hand. “Burnside pack,” he said. “Good to meet another wolf.”
Brendan shook his hand, and I couldn’t help but admire how calm he seemed.
“I’m not familiar with you guys,” Brendan said.
“Pack’s new,” the man said. “But everyone will know us before too long.”
Someone behind him hollered at him to stop dawdling and bring the chair over, and the man immediately called back, “Don’t rush me. There’s another wolf over here.”
Brendan’s jaw clenched, but it was too late to get away. The others’ eyes were on us in an instant, and a woman on the other side of the table leaned forward.
She narrowed her eyes, and the tip of her nose twitched. “You’re the Wildwood alpha.”
The man who’d been talking to us turned back around and looked at Brendan in surprise—and, I thought, with a little deference.
“You’re the alpha?” he said. “Should have said, man.”
Brendan shrugged. “Naw, it’s no big deal.”
“You should join us,” the woman said. “You and your girl.”
I couldn’t decide whether to bristle or be flattered at being considered Brendan’s “girl.” Brendan shook his head, smiling.
“We don’t want to intrude,” he said.
“No intrusion,” the woman at the end of the table said. She had to be their alpha; they all fell to silent attention the instant she opened her mouth. She waved at us. “Come on, it’s nice to make new friends.”
There was tension in the way she spoke. Brendan’s foot nudged mine under the table. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but when it came to my role in this encounter, I didn’t need telling: I had to smile, be friendly, and shut up whenever possible.
The wolves made space for us, and Brendan packed up his cards, moving slowly and deliberately enough as to make it clear that he was coming over because he wanted to, not because he’d been commanded. As a non-wolf and non-alpha, I had less clout and less to prove, so I quickly dragged my chair over and joined the group.
“You’re not a werewolf,” one of the women said cheerfully. “What are you, sweetie?”
“Witch,” I said.
“Me, too,” a different woman called from across the table. “Before I was turned.”
“I’ve always wondered about that,” I said with a bright smile, silently praying this was acceptable small talk. “Do you stay what you were before after you get turned? Or does the wolf take over everything?”
She didn’t seem offended by the question, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m still a witch. With extra instincts and appetites. But the wolf is strong,” she added. “It’s hard not to identify with it first.”
“Your man going to turn you?” the woman next to me asked. She spoke like this was a rite of passage in every werewolf relationship, like being transformed into a monster under the full moon was the same thing as getting engaged.
“He’s not my man,” I said. “We’re just friends.”
A chorus of giggles met this pronouncement. The wolves who were actually playing resumed their game as Brendan joined us, and the rest of us continued to watch and chat. Everyone seemed amiable enough, despite the occasional ribbing from the Burnside wolves about how much better they were than the Wildwoods. The conversation stuck mostly to safe topics like sports teams and people’s hobbies, but I could feel the eyes of their alpha on me.
It felt like hours before Brendan finally stretched and stood, announcing that we had to head out. The wolves protested as sincerely as a group of strangers could do, and the alpha placed a hand on his arm. She was focused on him, so I dared to get a good long look at her. She was tall, with layered dark hair and skin almost as pale as a vampire’s. She had a strong chin and sharp cheekbones, and her eyes seemed to catch everything.
“Do you have to leave so soon?” she said.
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 parking 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 t
hat 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.
