Page 23 of Kin of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #3)

In the twenty-odd years I’d been the property manager at Sylvan Serenity Housing, I’d never helped anyone move into the complex. Happy to save my employers money, I did a lot of extra jobs, but I drew the line at toting in people’s TVs, computers, and boxes. That had been the case until today, anyway. Rue had arrived, her only assistant a gangly, geeky grandson two inches shorter and ten pounds lighter than me. It was possible he’d needed a phone book to sit on to drive the moving truck up from Seattle for her.

As soon as she’d spotted me, Rue had put me to work. Admittedly, I’d been lurking near the parking lot, ostensibly raking and tidying the landscaping but hoping to see a familiar Roadtrek roll in.

It had been three days since my showdown with my cousins, and, despite trying to call his number numerous times, I hadn’t heard from Duncan since he’d disappeared in his bipedfuris form. Was he once again wounded and in a ditch? Had his creator decided he was too much trouble and killed him? Had Radomir chained him up to use whenever he needed muscles that weren’t amped up on potions?

I didn’t know, but I missed him. I’d been on the verge of driving up to that potion factory to see if he needed rescuing, but one of my half-siblings had arrived to collect me. The day after Augustus’s death, the pack had started the first of three meetings to determine the fate of my remaining cousins, and I’d been needed to present my evidence and answer questions.

During the meetings, the arbiter, Lorenzo, and numerous elders had reviewed Jasmine’s footage of the confrontation at the lake house. At some point, Jasmine had also gone to Francisco, the store owners, and the leader of a witch coven to get video testimonials describing Augustus and saying how much money he’d extorted out of them over the last year.

The elders had been difficult to read as they’d watched the videos. None of them had looked fondly in my direction. Augustus might have been the most vocal person about voicing disdain for the years I’d abandoned the pack—and taken that potion—but the vibe from others suggested many felt I wasn’t to be trusted. I wished they knew I’d risked my life to get Mom’s medallion back and help the pack, but she’d kept its theft close to her chest, so few people knew it had ever been stolen. At least the elders hadn’t scoffed or been dismissive when presented with the evidence.

Also, nobody had suggested I should be punished or exiled for killing a relative. Werewolves didn’t do that, not unless foul play was involved. The pack knew Augustus had challenged me numerous times, and nobody seemed surprised by his death. Only his siblings—and colleagues in the mafia gig they’d been running—had glared balefully at me. But their association with Augustus and the artifact thieves had gotten them in trouble. In the end, the elders had banished several of my cousins. I hoped they stayed banished and that I wouldn’t see them again .

It had been a victory, even if I hadn’t intended Augustus’s death. Too bad I didn’t have someone to celebrate it with. Instead, I was carrying boxes of alchemy equipment and incense in the rain, the latter potent even through the cardboard, and I kept sneezing.

“Ah yes,” Rue said, waving me in. “That is the last box. Place it there. Perfect.”

“Glad I could help,” I said dryly.

I might have said no, but she had made potions for me.

“Already, I am enjoying this domicile. There is a tree outside my window instead of honking traffic. Isn’t that fabulous?”

“I didn’t know alchemists enjoy nature, but I’m glad it’s acceptable.”

“Yes. It will keep nosy snoops from peering in, monitoring my work, and jumping to conclusions about the potions I’m brewing.”

“Was that a big problem in the Seattle high-rise? It looked like your windows all faced the building across the street, not any of your neighbors.”

“The denizens in the building across the street spoke to my neighbors. They are the ones who first started the gossip. One of them even kept a telescope on his balcony. For watching the stars , he told the police when I complained, but he used it to peer into other people’s homes. He was a pervert.”

“I think I would make that assumption too. Between the light pollution and the cloud cover, Seattle isn’t exactly an astronomer’s dream.”

“No, they use their tools to spy on their nude neighbors instead. Perverts .” Rue dug into her pocket. “I will tip you for your service.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Instead of money, she pulled out a little bag that clinked. “These are beauty and longevity potions. You’ll find the wrinkle cream perfect for your fine lines.” Rue peered at my face. “And that forehead crease that is not so fine. Have you been sleeping?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“Definitely use the wrinkle cream. I do every night before bed, and you can see the youthful smoothness of my face.”

“It looks very nice.”

“Yes.”

In the hope that I would see Duncan again, I accepted the bag, willing to try alchemically enhanced wrinkle cream. It probably worked better than the hyaluronic-acid gunk I smeared on my face at night. I still found it laughable that Mom thought I was of an age that having children would be a good idea. Though I admitted that my perimenopause symptoms had lessened of late. It was possible I’d simply been too busy to notice them, but… maybe my wolf magic was helping keep my body in homeostasis now that I’d stopped taking the potion that sublimated it. Fine lines aside, I’d been sleeping better—when I could actually get home at a reasonable time to engage in it.

After leaving Rue’s apartment, I was heading back to my own when a tenant with a clogged toilet waylaid me. My life continued to be glamourous. At least it was an easy fix, and I finished by the time an SUV with a Millennium Falcon sticker on the back of one of the side mirrors rolled into the parking lot. I’d seen it before but not for months. It belonged to Austin’s friend, the one who’d been picking him up from the airport. I lifted a hand and waved, then jogged over as the passenger-side door opened.

Austin grinned as he stepped out, brown hair painfully short in a military buzz cut. It made his ears look bigger than usual, but he still managed to be handsome.

“Hey, Mom.” He spread his arms to let me hug him fiercely, then patted my back in a tolerating manner. Neither of my sons had ever been the touchy-feely types, but they endured embraces from their mother .

I let Austin grab a duffel bag out of the car and thank his friend before gripping his arms to look him up and down. He’d lost a few pounds, his face leaner than when he’d left, though baggy cargo pants and a hoodie made him look more like a college student than a soldier, and was that mustard on his sleeve? It must have been a long trip.

“I imagined you arriving home all respectable and dashing in a uniform,” I said, though I supposed I wouldn’t fly in such a thing if it weren’t required.

“My dress blues are in my duffel. I imagined you washing and ironing them for me before I go back.” He grinned wider.

“The Air Force hasn’t matured you as much as I envisioned.”

“It’s only been six months.”

“Will it be another six before you learn to do your own laundry?”

“Maybe nine. I did bring you a Christmas present. Maturely.” Austin patted the duffel.

“Did you buy it at one of the overpriced gift shops in the airport?”

“Well… you’re stuck on base most of the time when you’re in training. There weren’t many opportunities to shop.”

“That’s a yes. That’s okay. I’m glad you’re here to visit.” I didn’t mention that his brother’s only response to the message I’d left, wishing him happy holidays and asking if he needed anything, had been a gif of a cat batting Christmas-tree ornaments. Maybe someday Cameron would get over his grudge and want to have a relationship with his mother again. I hoped so.

“For more than a week, yup. Ozzie still lives here, right?” Austin waved across the complex toward the building where one of his friends who was a year younger and a senior in high school resided.

“Yes, and he and his mom, against the lease, still have three dogs, four cats, parakeets, and a ferret. Based on the pet-food bags I’ve seen go into that apartment, there might be multiple ferrets there by now.”

“I’m sure his mom appreciates you keeping tabs on them.”

“I have no doubt. Are you going to visit?”

“Do you mind? I need to check on a bet we made. He might owe me money. Then I’ll come home for dinner.”

I decided to pretend Austin had come to see me as much as he had his friends. All I said was, “It’s breakfast-for-supper. Bacon and eggs.”

Thanks to Duncan’s shopping trip, I had lots of both.

“Perfect.” Austin left his duffel bag on the damp walkway and jogged toward his friend’s apartment. Whatever he’d gotten me at the gift shop must not have been prone to water damage.

I picked up the duffel, hefted it over my shoulder, and headed toward my apartment.

Austin noticed and halted. “Mom, you don’t have to carry that. I’ll come back for it.”

“I don’t want my gift stolen.” I decided not to mention the increased crime in the area. That was still a problem that I needed to deal with, or at least that the local business owners wished I would deal with. I doubted Augustus had been doing anything to squelch it, so I didn’t anticipate it getting worse, but having him gone wouldn’t improve things either.

“It’s heavy,” Austin warned.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t any worse than Rue’s boxes of potions, tools, and ingredients.

Austin eyed the duffel over my shoulder, seeming to debate between grabbing it or running off to see his friend. Ultimately, he trotted back over, took it from me, and we headed toward the apartment together.

“I’ll put it away first,” he said.

“It’s nice that the military has taught you some manners. ”

“You’ll be more inclined to do my laundry if your back isn’t thrown out.”

“That is true.”

“Though your back seems fine.” Austin gave me a sidelong look. “I think I’m losing my bet with Ozzie.”

“It involves me?”

“And how many toilets, in the time I was gone, he would see you carrying out of the parking lot while he was doing homework at his computer. I figured that since me and Cameron are all grown and gone, you’d take it easy. Maybe get an assistant to help out here. Or a real handyman. Then you could take up knitting or something.”

“I’m forty-five, not eighty-five.”

The confused look he gave me suggested that there wasn’t, in the eyes of an eighteen-year-old, much difference.

“And I can still carry a toilet,” I said.

“How many did you carry? More than five?”

“Is that part of the bet?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re kind of a weirdo, my son.”

“I think that’s inherited.”

“I believe that’s true.”

Once in our apartment, Austin tossed his duffel bag on the bottom bunk in his bedroom, which, other than dusting and sweeping, I hadn’t touched while he’d been gone. Then, he managed to ask how work was, say the property looked like it was in good shape, and praise the presence of the espresso maker, since mess-hall coffee was apparently gross.

“Oh, let me get your present. You may want to eat it now instead of waiting for Christmas morning.” He smirked mischievously at me, ducked back into his room, and rummaged in his duffel before returning.

I waited curiously to see what edible fare he’d brought, courtesy of whatever airport he’d flown through on the way home from Mississippi.

“Here you go. Exotic chocolate. You’ll love it.”

“Oh? I didn’t know the South was known for exotic chocolate.”

Austin extended a tin clumsily wrapped in tissue paper and secured with enough tape that I almost needed to change into a wolf and use my fangs to open it. Since my sons didn’t know about that secret, I opted for scissors instead.

“I’m not sure it is, but they have a lot of big insects,” he said as I revealed what looked like a cricket on the front of the tin. “Since you love chocolate with bacon bits in it, I figured this would be in the same category.”

I looked dubiously at the offering. “Austin, I know you’re young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, but there’s no realm in which bacon and crickets are in the same category.”

“You’re going to try it anyway, though, right? I’ve never seen you turn your nose up at protein. Even crunchy protein.”

“I… suppose I might.”

If Duncan returned, I would share the gift with him.

Austin glanced at a text on his phone. Probably feeling he’d fulfilled his duties as a visiting son, he promised to return later and bolted off to visit his friend.

Though I was left alone in the apartment, it felt less empty, at least for the time being. I found myself looking around and missing Duncan’s company though. If he didn’t call or show up by morning, I would drive up to look for him.

My gaze landed on the sword he’d given me. I thought about tucking it into my bedroom closet so Austin wouldn’t wonder why I had acquired such a thing. But I considered the crime problem and wondered if the Sylvans would drop their interest in selling the complex if someone addressed that issue. I also thought of how little fighting expertise I had when I wasn’t in my wolf form. Duncan was right. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to learn to use the blade. Augustus might be gone, but I highly doubted my problems were over.

I took out my phone and tapped in sword-fighting lessons , vowing to sign up somewhere after the holidays.

THE END

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