Page 9 of Kin of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #3)

9

“These are my employers,” I said as Bolin’s SUV parked, his parents gazing out the windows in my direction. “Try to keep your clothes on and be… normal.”

Duncan’s eyebrows arched. “ Normal ?”

Yeah, that would be a stretch for him even if he tried.

“Maybe you could wait in your van.” I waved toward the Roadtrek.

It would be easier if I didn’t have to explain his eccentricities. Or his feral vibe.

What if Bolin’s dad had enough magic in his blood to sense what Duncan was? When I’d had meetings with my employers in the past, I hadn’t noticed Rory Sylvan had a paranormal aura, but unless the druidic talent skipped a generation, he had to have some power. It had probably been because my senses had been dulled by the potion that I’d missed it before. Now, as they climbed out of the big SUV with their businessperson Ed Kuznetsov, who was my usual contact, I wiped my palms on my jeans, nervous. Rory Sylvan might have known all along that I wasn’t any more normal than Duncan .

“I’ll wait in your truck,” Duncan said. “We have a date, remember?”

“Going to see my mom counts as a date?”

“Maybe she’ll make us dinner. Is she domestically inclined?”

I almost laughed, but I recalled that he’d only seen her from a distance, so he didn’t know. “She’s a strong, independent, and fierce werewolf. She might drop a raw elk haunch on the ground for you to gnaw on.”

“Oh, I assumed that would be the kind of dinner we might receive. I wasn’t expecting her to be like your Betty Crocker. Do you think she’d share the liver or spleen? Those are the best.”

“No.” I shooed Duncan toward the parking lot, not caring which vehicle he got in. Ed and the Sylvans were approaching, and this was miles from being a normal conversation.

Duncan bowed to the group as he walked by them. I sighed. He couldn’t even pass as normal when he kept his mouth shut.

“My truck,” I called, when he paused, as if debating which vehicle to wait in. There weren’t any metal detectors in there that he might be tempted to get out if the conversation went long.

Duncan waved in acknowledgment. The Sylvans looked back at him, and, yes, Rory’s forehead did crease, as if he detected something odd about Duncan. Fortunately, I didn’t sense more than a smidgen of a paranormal aura from him, less than from Bolin. Maybe druidic power varied as it was passed down through offspring. Or maybe Rory had done less to cultivate his talents, and it lay closer to dormancy.

Ed, a former sergeant major in the army, grunted a greeting when the group stopped in front of me on the walkway. A man of sixtyish with buzz-cut white hair, a broad build, and a granite jaw, he looked like he could still be in the army. As always, he wore a checkered flannel shirt instead of business attire. When life—and the apartment complex—had been running normally, I’d always appreciated his no-nonsense attitude, but now I braced myself for his bluntness.

“Hi, Bolin.” I lifted a hand, trying not to let the wave appear tentative or nervous. “Ed. Mr. and Mrs. Sylvan.”

Rory was a redhead, like his son, though his hair was fading with gray. He had round ruddy cheeks with a spattering of freckles above a trimmed beard and mustache that had gone fully gray. He wore a tailored suit with gold cuff links and a decorative tie bar that looked like a tree. A silent nod to his heritage?

The stern-faced Kashvi Sylvan wore a business suit with a head scarf and regarded me aloofly. That was, from what I recalled, her normal expression, so I didn’t worry too much about it. Yet.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Valens,” Kashvi said formally, taking the lead.

As I recalled, she represented the numbers and business half of the partnership—and perhaps the marriage. Rory might wear a suit now, but he’d been the handyman who’d fixed up their original rental properties. Until they’d amassed enough apartments and money to hire outsiders, they’d shared the responsibility of managing the tenants.

“We understand there’s been trouble on the property lately,” Rory said with a sympathetic smile. There was rarely anything stern about him, though I’d heard a misbehaving water heater could make him lose his temper and smack wrenches against walls.

“I told them everything I’ve seen,” Bolin offered, the phrasing seeming to imply he hadn’t mentioned lycanthropic intervention.

Ed wandered off, hands clasped behind his back, looking like he intended to do an inspection of the property. That was fine. I’d cleaned up all the messes and even removed all the moss from the roofs of the buildings. As long as no wolves wandered in from the greenbelt, he shouldn’t find anything amiss .

“Crime has increased all through this area, I understand,” Kashvi said, “but it’s surprising that there have been multiple incidents at our apartments here in Shoreline.”

“There have been a few things,” I said, “but we’ve handled them.”

“We?” Kashvi asked. “You’re divorced, and your husband no longer helps out, correct?”

“He never helped out,” I said before I could catch myself, certain that trashing my ex to my employers would make me look bad. “But, yes, he’s gone. I meant, well, Bolin has been helpful.”

I would explain Duncan if I had to, but that might involve admitting there was a guy living in the van in the parking lot. They would not approve of that.

Kashvi’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “My son?”

Rory also appeared surprised, though he shot Bolin a pleased look.

Less pleased, Kashvi’s expression grew sterner. “Our son assisted with the intervention of a dangerous crime?”

She turned to him, mouth opening for what might have been a forthcoming lecture.

“Just with the aftermath,” I hurried to say, making her pause. It wasn’t a lie. Other than tossing a glowing vial of whatever out to protect his SUV, Bolin hadn’t been in any of the frays. “He was helpful about calling the police and dealing with all their questions while I cleaned up the messes and took photos for the insurance claims.” And turned into a wolf and tore the intruders’ throats out… I grimaced, keeping the last thought to myself.

“Ah, I see,” Kashvi said.

Rory patted Bolin on the shoulder, still appearing more pleased that his son had helped than upset that he’d put himself in harm’s way. Something told me Rory Sylvan would be okay with a vigilante crime-fighter dealing with issues in the neighborhood. He might even encourage his son to help someone with such an endeavor. Since he knew about the wolf case, and had been assisting with the research, he might know more about the goings-on here than his wife.

“We are concerned by the trend,” Kashvi continued. “We have had this property for many years—decades—and we have watched Seattle grow from a sleepy one-industry town to a metropolis with all the problems associated with that, including crime. Never did we think this quaint suburb would have to deal with such things.”

“It is distressing,” I offered, not sure where she was going. “I could put up some more security cameras. One of the tenants suggested doorbell cameras, but that would be expensive to add to every unit.” Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. The last thing I needed were more opportunities for cameras to capture footage of wolves darting around the complex and chewing on intruders. With my luck, I would change right in front of someone’s doorbell and give it a full view of my naked butt turning furry.

“We appreciate your efforts to keep the tenants safe,” Rory said, “and we’re aware that you work hard and keep our costs way down by doing a lot of the repairs and maintenance yourself. This has become a very profitable property for us. It alone paid for Bolin’s college tuition.”

I reined in the snarky comment that came to mind, that I was glad me installing toilets and fixing dishwashers had allowed Bolin to dedicate himself to spelling-bee competitions and violin practice instead of working his way through college. Besides, Bolin was turning out to be a pretty decent guy, considering he was twenty-three and his parents paid for all his expenses. He could have been a snot.

“But,” Rory continued, “we need to consider if it’s time to sell this property and reinvest the profits elsewhere.”

“Due to recent events,” Kashvi said, “the insurance is increasing with the new year. It’s increasing a great deal. As if it weren’t egregious enough that the property taxes went up so much these past few years.”

I rocked back, barely hearing her words after his. I had worried about them replacing me, but it had never crossed my mind that they would sell Sylvan Serenity Housing.

If they did, would I be able to continue working for the new owners? With the same deal that included my apartment? Or would they want to hire someone new? Someone young and perky with a college degree?

If new owners didn’t want to keep me on, I would have to move after more than twenty years. Not only had I raised my kids here, but I’d put so much effort into maintaining the place these past decades that it felt like mine in a way. Even if there was more crime these days, it was a great location for commuting, and the acreage with the nearby trees made it far more peaceful than one would usually find in the city. Besides, it was my territory .

As if someone had punched me in the stomach, I realized I didn’t want to leave, not unless it was because I’d finally reached my financial goals and could buy my own multifamily property. Even then, I didn’t know if I would want to move. I might simply rent out the units of my new place and continue to work and live here.

If I had that option.

“We have not made up our mind yet,” Rory said in an apologetic voice, watching the conflagration of emotions waltzing across my face.

“But it must be considered.” Kashvi’s no-nonsense tone suggested she didn’t care that this was my territory and home and that I had feelings about it. For her, this would be a business decision, purely based on financial considerations.

“I understand,” I said numbly.

And I did. That didn’t mean it didn’t disturb me. It especially disturbed me because much of the crime was my fault, or at least had occurred because I lived here. I didn’t think the motorcycle gang had anything to do with me, but the rest…

I leaned forward and gripped my knees.

“We will not decide until after the holidays,” Rory told me gently. “And we really do appreciate all the work you’ve done here over the years. If we sell, we’ll make sure you receive an ample severance package, whether the new owners want to continue on with you or not.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled bleakly, afraid they had already made up their minds. They were talking about the new owners as if they had someone in mind.

Were there interested parties lined up for this place? Despite the news? I could see someone wanting to sell off chunks of the land, maybe breaking it off from the buildings for further development. Acreage this close to Seattle had to be worth a fortune these days.

Ed returned and nodded to the Sylvans. “From a cursory look, everything on the outside is in good repair, and the landscaping is well-tended. Any areas that criminals might lurk at night have been trimmed back from the well-lit walkways.”

“I thought that would be the case,” Rory told him.

Was that something they’d discussed? Debating if I was doing the work necessary to keep the place safe?

I straightened, trying not to feel indignant that my ability to manage the complex well might have been questioned.

“I told you overgrown bushes weren’t the problem,” Bolin murmured.

Ignoring him, Kashvi said, “We will keep you apprised on the situation, Ms. Valens.” She lifted a hand, as if to take her leave, but paused. “How have the vacancies been lately?”

In light of the crime? And the newspaper articles?

I was relieved I could say, “We’re full, with a waiting list.”

I didn’t mention that a quirky alchemist hoped to be put at the top of that waiting list. I definitely didn’t mention we were now attracting tenants who kept ghostometers in their closets.

“Oh? That is a little surprising.” Kashvi looked at her husband. “I expected that recent events…”

“It’s a lot of work for people to move,” Rory said blandly, glancing at me.

He might or might not know I was a werewolf, but he absolutely knew more about the paranormal aspect of recent problems than his wife. Of that, I was certain.

“Well, that is something at least,” Kashvi said. “It will be a selling point if we can report that the vacancies are low.”

“Nonexistent,” Rory said.

“Indeed.” Kashvi nodded to me. “Please carry on, Ms. Valens.”

I mumbled an agreement but rubbed the back of my neck as the group walked away. I felt distressed but also… resolute. I didn’t want to be forced to move and find a new job. No way were my dastardly cousins going to be the cause of that. I also didn’t want them bilking people in the neighborhood out of money.

I lowered my arm and glowered into the trees, though I didn’t sense them out there at the moment. Too bad. I was more than ready to deal with them. I would start with Mom and Lorenzo. This time, I intended to find a solution to Augustus and his siblings that was more permanent. If that meant transporting them to Canada and hurling them out the door of my moving truck, so be it.

As the Sylvans drove away, Duncan walked from his van to the passenger side of my truck and patted the door. Saying he was ready to visit the pack with me?

I nodded firmly and headed that way. As much as I hated relying on his help, I might need to in order to deal with my cousins. If he was willing to assist, I couldn’t be too proud to accept .

“Ready to go see your mother?” Duncan joined me in the truck when I slid into the driver’s seat.

“See her, yes, and also kick the butt of every werewolf who’s stepped foot in Shoreline in the past year.”

He raised his eyebrows. “ I’ve stepped foot here.”

I put the truck into gear. “You’d better gird your ass then.”