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Story: Relics of the Wolf
19
Leavingthrough the back of the garage led us into a stone-paver courtyard behind the stout wall we’d seen from the front. A towering metal building without windows shared it on the opposite side, and to our right stood a tall wrought-iron double gate large enough for trucks to pass through. Beyond it lay the lavender fields, stretching off into darkness.
Visible behind the metal building, the upper portion of the adobe mansion caught my eye, and I pointed to it. If I were a rich thief with a perfume corporation, I would keep my stolen artifacts in the house, not a garage or other outer structure.
Duncan nodded, but it looked like we would have to go through the metal building to reach it. As we approached, I spotted vents high on the wall and caught floral whiffs, as well as other scents I couldn’t name. Lavenderwasin the mix, one of the stronger odors. Maybe that was the mixing or manufacturing facility.
The howl sounded again, wafting in from the fields.
“Could another pack be behind all this?” I hadn’t heard of any wolves coming into the area from Canada or across the mountains, but it wasn’t as if I’d been in the loop with my own pack these past years.
“It’s not like werewolves to hire outside heavies.” Duncan gazed toward the gate and the fields.
“Yeah.” I’d had that same thought before Mom’s medallion had been stolen, deciding my cousins probably weren’t behind all this. “But would a werewolf work for someone else? That’s not like our kind either.”
Duncan hesitated. Thinking?
He finally said, “No,” in agreement and headed across the courtyard. He glanced toward the tops of the stone walls. More cameras were mounted there, and powerful lights kept the area bright. We were anything but hidden, so I was surprised we hadn’t yet encountered more men.
A softclickfloated across the courtyard from behind us. The sound of the door we’d exited locking.
Duncan gave it a long look over his shoulder, then gazed back at the courtyard walls. About twenty feet high and smooth, they lacked handholds or any way to climb them. I wondered if Duncan’s magnet had enough twine attached that he could use it like a rope and grappling hook.
“I keep waiting for cannons to pop out of the top of the wall and open fire on us,” he murmured.
“Cannons? I think they use big exploding artillery weapons these days.” I wasn’t an expert on ammunitions, but cannons sounded antiquated.
Duncan smiled faintly. “Yes. But cannons were common in the books of my youth.”
“When they were calling peoplemy lady?”
“Precisely.” He reached the metal door to the windowless building and tugged on the handle. It was locked without a visible keyhole.
“Now that we’re trapped, itdoesseem a likely time for cannons.” I eyed the gate. Maybe we weren’t entirely trapped—with Duncan’s strength, he might be able to push the iron bars apart—but I doubted what we sought was out in those dark fields. “Will your magnet befuddle that lock and open the door?”
“Not likely. Locks are usually made without magnetic materials for that reason. If there were a keyhole, I might be able topickthe lock, but I don’t see anything.”
I wondered if that lock-pick set was how he’d gotten into my apartment when he’d planned to swipe the case himself. Probably.
“Guess you’re not supposed to come in this way,” I said.
“Not unless you’re invited.”
“Or have grenades?”
“One could work. They’re noisy though.”
“They already know we’re here.”
“Likely, yes.” Duncan considered the edge of the door and the hinges. Would his magnets work onthem?
It was the metal handle that he gripped with both hands.
I raised my eyebrows. He’d torn apart a motorcycle, so maybe…
Duncan put one foot on the wall next to the door and leaned back, shoulders flexing. The feral magic I could always sense about him, the power of the wolf, intensified as the tendons in his neck stood out. With the snapping of something metal, the door released and flew open.
I lunged to keep it from banging against the wall as Duncan sprang away. He caught his balance and raised his fists, as if he expected enemies to charge out.
Table of Contents
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