Page 5 of Kin of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #3)

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“The term would be clone.” Duncan resumed pulling his magnet along. “He’s my clone. And we’re both clones of the original werewolf who lived centuries ago before dying in the mountains and being covered by that glacier.”

“This sounds very science-fictional. If you have to do battle with the kid, it becomes a Star Wars movie, doesn’t it?”

“Only if we use light sabers.” Duncan smiled faintly, though there was a troubled crease to his brow.

“Because you’re related—uhm, clones—does that make you… responsible for the boy? Or is it all Abrams since he…” I almost said created , but that truly did seem sci-fi-ish, prompting me to think of laboratories and test tubes. “Since he was responsible for bringing you—and the kid—into the world.”

“I haven’t researched the laws on the subject—I had no idea about the boy until we arrived there—but I suppose I could. Since this can now be done with science, no magic required, there probably are some official documents to follow. I would assume, however, that Abrams would be legally responsible.” A distasteful expression crossed Duncan’s face .

Yeah, I wasn’t enthused by the idea of Abrams as a legal guardian either, not when his goal had apparently been to form a werewolf army. That might still be his goal. Though, if so, I wondered why he’d waited thirty years after Duncan’s escape to try again. Twenty-two years, I corrected, assuming my guess at the boy’s age was accurate.

“I don’t think I would have any legal responsibility,” Duncan added after a thoughtful pause, “but I can’t help but feel… Now that I know he exists and that he’s just a kid…”

“You want to help him,” I guessed.

“My childhood wasn’t always entirely loathsome—I have fond memories of the times I escaped into the library to read—but it wasn’t… pleasant.”

That had to be an understatement. I eyed his wrists, though his jacket covered the shackle scars.

“I’ve been considering if it would be possible for me to return and rescue the boy,” Duncan admitted. “He didn’t seem like he was being treated that badly, and if he was out hunting in the fields that night, he has more freedom than I ever did, but… I can’t imagine Abrams having evolved into a decent father. Even if he had, he brought the boy into the world to use him.”

“I’m sure he’s not a decent father. Both those guys were nothing but pushy and manipulative schemers. They tried to have you shot, remember. And me kidnapped. And they shot my mom . And Emilio. They’re bastards. Both of them.”

“It’s possible the brutes they hired for those missions took liberties with their orders, but Abrams would not have cared about the deaths of anyone involved. Of that I’m certain. And the other man… I obviously do not know him, but he had the vibe of a scheming megalomaniac.”

“No kidding.”

Duncan paused. His magnet had caught on something. “Even with my strength, I might find it difficult to get back into that compound and retrieve the boy. They let us in last time. Because they wanted something from you.” He gazed at me.

I shrugged. Radomir had ordered me to touch the medallion, wanting to see what it would do for me. It had glowed brightly but nothing more, as far as I’d been able to tell. Something told me they’d expected more dramatic results.

“They definitely lured us in,” I said in agreement. “Laser beams might shoot out if you showed up on the premises again.”

Duncan tugged at the magnet, but it didn’t rise. “That would also be science-fictional.”

“I know. My world has turned very Star Wars of late. The next bad guys who show up will be in white stormtrooper armor.”

“They’d be much less dangerous than werewolves.”

“Are you sure? It would be hard to bite through that armor.”

Duncan scoffed and waved a hand. “Easier than opening a can of beans.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Have you done that?”

“No. I rarely crave beans when in my werewolf form.”

“I don’t crave them in my human form either.”

“I have used a canine to get into a can of tuna fish.” Duncan touched one of his pointed teeth.

“You’re a beast.”

“As many ladies have told me.” He had been grim-faced throughout the discussion of the boy—of his clone —but he smiled now, even managing a wink and a bow. The humor faded quickly though, and I could tell the previous week’s revelations weighed on him. “I’ve probably got a bicycle frame here,” he said.

“That’s not going to buy groceries.”

“It could be a safe.”

“I’m sure those get heaved into duck ponds all the time.”

“You never know.” Duncan glanced at the time on his phone, then dug into his pocket. “In case we’re not able to find suitable treasure before the store runs out of eggs, here. Please replenish your supply.” He tugged out a wrinkled hundred-dollar bill.

“I don’t know if they’ll make change for that there.”

“Change?” Duncan looked blankly at me.

I started to explain but stopped. He probably thought I should buy ten pounds’ worth of bacon and dozens and dozens of eggs. “Never mind. If you don’t want money back, I’ll clean them out.”

“Excellent. I’ll lever this prize out of the murk.” Duncan nodded to me, then grabbed the rope with both hands to put more effort into pulling.

I left him to it, not finding this as much of a fun adventure as he did, though I’d come along more to avoid employers visiting the apartment complex. And spending time with Duncan was pleasant, even if I now worried about the possibility of him being magically forced to turn on me. That had been a concern since the night of our battle, but I’d assumed that for it to happen again Lord Abrams and his magical controller would need to be present. But if he could manipulate Duncan from afar…

I looked back as I climbed a path into the parking lot for the convenience store. Duncan had wrangled his prize onto the dock. It was a dented shopping cart missing its wheels and as covered with grime as everything else. I shook my head in bemusement, wondering how much junk he had to pull out of bodies of water before finding a genuine prize.

“We might have different definitions of adventure, my friend,” I murmured but smiled as I entered the store.

A step inside, I dropped the smile and halted abruptly. A man in a ski mask stood in front of the counter, pointing a gun at a gray-haired male clerk, who was pulling money out of the cash register. Another masked man stood behind him in the mouth of an aisle. He held a sawed-off shotgun also pointed toward the counter.

My skin pricked with heat, danger trying to call forth the wolf.

Both men looked toward me. Before I could decide if I should run back outside or let the magic take me over, the guy with the handgun swung it toward me.

Swearing, I dove into the nearest aisle. The gun fired, the blast cracking through the glass door where I’d been standing.

Magic and adrenaline surged through my veins as the change swept over me. There was no tamping it down. All I had the presence of mind to do was tug off my jacket, my keys and phone in the pocket, before my body morphed and fur sprouted from my skin.

Once I stood on all fours in my wolf form, thoughts of fleeing from the gunmen evaporated. I was a powerful predator, and these fools had dared challenge me.

When one of the men lunged into view at the end of the aisle, prepared to fire again, I sprang at him. He shouted in surprise but managed to get off a round. I was already charging at him, however, and he flinched back, the bullet going wide. Jaws snapping, I tore into his shoulder. He screamed, dropped the gun, and wheeled away, smashing into a stand and knocking snack bags everywhere.

Engines roared in the parking lot outside—human vehicles. The noise startled me, but movement to my left alerted me to another threat inside. The man with the sawed-off shotgun stepped toward me. Seeing a wolf must have startled him as much as the first man, but he recovered quickly enough to take aim, his hands steady.

An instant before he pulled the trigger, I sprang over shelves, claws clipping bags of chips on the top before I landed two aisles over. Meanwhile, the bullet blew a giant hole in the window beside the door, obliterating the already-taped glass.

I charged out of the aisle as the shooter spun back toward me, but he wasn’t fast enough. Before he could swing the gun around to fire again, I sank my fangs into his arm. He screamed, releasing the gun, and stumbled away as he tried to pull free of my grip.

My savage animal instincts wanted me to spring up and tear out his throat, to utterly destroy this enemy, but I managed to keep my calm. They’d threatened me but not others of my pack, and this wasn’t my territory. I wasn’t as enraged as some times when I changed, and I kept a measure of sanity.

That didn’t keep me from releasing his arm to bite him in the balls. The bastard deserved it.

The next scream was so high-pitched that it hurt my ears. More sounds of engines vrooming came from the parking lot, and I released the man, anticipating a further threat. Nothing good happened to wolves when humans roared close in their noisy metal boxes.

Outside, not cars but motorcycles had entered the parking lot, but they were in an unexpected position—flat on their sides on the pavement. As the two men I’d bitten fled out of the store, both gripping their wounds, I spotted the reason the motorcycles—and their riders—had been knocked down.

Duncan stood among them, fists raised. He remained in his human form, but he was formidable even with his bare hands.

By the time I nosed open the broken door, stepping around shattered glass on the ground, the two riders and the two gunmen, none now armed, were fleeing into the wetlands.

Duncan squinted after them. “If they touch my magnet, I’ll kick their asses again.”

My wolf brain understood the human words but didn’t grasp their full meaning.

Duncan looked at me. “They can have the shopping buggy if they’re hard up.”

Crunches came from the store—the male clerk stepping gingerly out from behind the counter, over my discarded jacket, and peering toward us. Specifically, his gaze fell upon me. A woman of similar age had come out of a door behind the counter, and she joined him in peering at me.

They weren’t threatening, but my hackles rose with the certainty that danger might result from their scrutiny. Humans did not like wolves.

Duncan patted me on the back. “Why don’t you follow those guys and make sure they aren’t further trouble, Fluffy?”

Fluffy?

He waved me toward the wetlands and added softly, “I’ll get your jacket.”

Given that all the men had injuries, delivered by fist or fang, they were unlikely to return, but I sensed the power of the werewolf magic in Duncan, power greater than mine, and allowed that he was like a pack alpha. I trod off, my instincts telling me to stay away from humans anyway, and left Duncan chatting amiably with the store clerks.

Only as I padded into the wetlands did the wolf magic start to fade. I didn’t try to track the men, though droplets of blood and the scent of a cigarette one had smoked lingered, so it would have been a simple matter to follow them. Instead, I sat on my haunches by the rolling den that belonged to Duncan and waited for him.

As a wolf, with fur covering my body, nudity wasn’t a concern. Only when the magic faded completely, leaving me crouching beside the van, did I come fully back to myself—and realize I was naked in full view of the road.