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“After what I saw you could do, I can’t imagine you staying in any kind of prison.”

I laughed at his assumptions, though they were sort of true. “I spent seven years of my life in a magickly warded house in seclusion. Living alone at the cottage seems like a bad dream now, except that I’d still like to see my ex-husband strung up by his private parts.”

“Don’t be a bitter divorcee, Aran. I was one for over a decade. It took my current wife years to get through to me enough to take a chance on us being a couple.”

My shrug was brief. “I’ll keep that in mind. So... let’s talk werewolves.”

Ben nodded. “I remember you said the conversion story was a myth.”

“I did. Can ya accept that as a fact without tons of research?”

Shrugging, he picked up coffee and drained the cup. The barista hurried over and refilled it. When she beamed down at him, I rolled my eyes behind her back. Any woman taller than me glanced at my dangling feet and then treated me like I wasn’t worthy of respect. That logic led to them also thinking any man sitting with me was ripe for flirting with them.

I was short, silver-haired, and could be described as ‘mature’ these days, but that didn’t mean men didn’t find me just as sexy as they did her. There had never been a shortage of men interested in sleeping with me. And Murray’s offer had convinced me there never would be, no matter how silver I got.

Mulan, who was also my height, would never have garnered the same female dismissal, though. When she wasn’t working, the Wu Shaman wore heels that made her look several inches taller and I’m sure that helped. She was also slim and sultry. Even with bruises covering her face, the Wu Shaman had been radiant when I saw her.

I cleared my throat to get the woman’s attention. The barista smiled and refilled my cup as well. Ben pretended he had no idea what was happening, which told me he knewexactlywhat was going on. I grunted my displeasure to show both of them I wasn’t stupid.

“Sorry for all the interruptions, Ben. I should have picked a more private location for our chat.”

The barista moved away from us and hustled back behind the counter.

Ben chuckled. “You’re not subtle, are you?”

“If ya’re subtle and short, ya get overlooked. I decided long ago to be rude and short instead. No one ignores me. Truly, I have no regrets about it.”

Ben motioned with his hand. “Okay, so there are no werewolf conversions. See? I’m moving along with you.”

I leaned to peer at him from around my lifted coffee cup. “Two of the missing women spent the night with two of the werewolves. The men woke up alone the next morning with blood draw marks on their arms.”

“Were the two men junkies?”

I shook my head. “Werewolf metabolism is ten times that of a human’s. If a werewolf did drugs, he or she would need ten times what normal humans need to get high. Buying it would bankrupt them. I’m going with answering no to that one. Werewolves can’t afford to be drug addicts.”

“If I stop guessing, will you tell me what you think?”

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I think nothing yet. I’m trying to guess who would seduce werewolves to get their blood. What purpose did the women have for it?”

“This situation sounds complicated.”

“Most things I come across are,” I said, drinking my warmed-up brew. “Paranormals like werewolves keep a low profile. The reason they’re not in labs being dissected is that they blend in with humans. The werewolf running the pack is a writing teacher with a human girlfriend.”

“Okay. So it wasn’t the werewolves, the women didn’t disappear naturally, did they?”

“No. My gut says they were part of something that lured them in, but I’ve got more digging to do. Is this the kind of progress report ya’ll be wanting on the regular?”

“Yes, but you could text or email the details.”

“I might call or text ya, Ben, but ya won’t be getting any additional paperwork from me. The Shadow Breakers don’t collect information that way. They hire witches whose specialty is the verbal collection of statements, which are bottled, marked, and kept in secure storage until needed. Human paper trails get lost and electronic ones get erased. All ya need is the right spell to wipe away everything.”

Ben blinked at me. “Now I get your need for putting compulsions on the scientists. You didn’t want them talking to people.”

“Correct. That’s also why I was mad when Rasmus wouldn’t destroy their records. I’m sure he could have easily done so. He thought it was taking things too far to erase all those years of experimenting.”

Ben crossed his arms. “It would have been nearly impossible to track down all the copies of the information anyway. That lab wasn’t the only one doing that kind of work.”

“Yes. So I’ve heard,” I said, still wishing I’d pushed harder to destroy their research. “I haven’t seen Rasmus since that day, Ben. The guardian may have disappeared back into the ether. When ya get around to it, I’d appreciate it if ya’d make a general notation about guardians for the archives. I wouldn’t want someone trying to track one down because they think guardians are evil.”