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After returning to the front of the property, I called the real estate agent. Angelica Simons. If she’d listed the lavender farm, she would have contact information for the owner. Whether she would give it to me was another matter.

“Hello?” a woman who was presumably Angelica answered.

“Hi, I’m calling about the lavender farm for sale outside of Arlington.” Actually, I was calling about the werewolf that I believed had been held prisoner in it until recently…

“Yes, it’s zoned agricultural and includes more than one hundred acres of mature lavender as well as a five-thousand-square-foot house, gift shop, and state-of-the-art perfumery.”

Perfumery? More like a potionry . Or whatever the proper name was for a facility full of burbling vats of alchemical concoctions.

“It looks really nice.” In a loaded-with-bad-guys residence-of-an-evil-overlord kind of way. “Do you know why the owner is selling?”

“He didn’t say.” The agent’s tone turned a little suspicious. “Are you a qualified buyer?”

“I’m the property manager for qualified buyers who own numerous commercial facilities.” Technically, that was true, though my employers exclusively held multifamily properties. I could imagine the stern Kashvi Sylvan pursing her lips with disapproval at the idea of picking up a perfumery . Afraid I would have to lie to continue on with that charade, I switched to, “I’m also a potion, erm, perfume buyer.” I made the slip on purpose to see what kind of reaction I would get. Did the real estate agent know what had really been manufactured on the premises?

Angelica didn’t answer at all. Hm.

“I’ve visited the gift shop before and was disappointed to find it closed,” I continued. “Do you know if the owner is still in business? Do they have another shop I could visit?”

“I don’t know. The property is listed at twelve million, firm. If your employers want the details, have them call me.” Angelica hung up.

“Well, that’s rude. I called it nice .” After my experience escaping from the place, that wasn’t a descriptor that came easily to mind.

My next call, as I walked around the property, looking for clues that might have been left behind, went to my niece, Jasmine.

“Hey, Luna,” she answered. “Do you want to be a reference for me?”

“For what? A job application?” I stopped at the wrought-iron gate leading into the walled courtyard. The bar I’d bitten and bent while in wolf form hadn’t been fixed.

For twelve million dollars, wouldn’t one expect all repairs to be done in advance? And for fang marks to be buffed out of the gate? I peered into the stone-paver courtyard.

“Yeah, my mom’s business is dead ,” Jasmine said. “I’m going to have to use my fancy real-estate-finance degree to work for another agency, hopefully one that’s getting more leads right now.”

“I can tell you an agency not to apply to.” I stuck my tongue out toward the for-sale sign. For some reason, maturity was difficult to achieve today.

“A reference would be better.”

“I haven’t worked with you in a professional capacity.”

“I recorded a heroic battle for you while risking my own life. I also threw a pan at a seething wolf that I’m related to, all to help you out.”

“Is that night something you want me to go into detail about when your prospective employers call to ask about your character?” I tried to step sideways between the bars, but they were too narrow. As a wolf, I’d escaped that way, but my hips were trimmer in that form.

“Maybe you could leave out the werewolves. They might not be a selling point.”

“They usually aren’t.”

We, both werewolves ourselves, shared a sigh.

“But you could mention the pan-throwing,” Jasmine added. “That’s a point in my favor, right? It shows initiative.”

“ I appreciated it.” I tested the lock on the gate. It was, alas, sound.

If it hadn’t been midday and more than a week until the full moon, I might have been able to call upon my magic to change into a wolf, but that was always difficult without a threat stirring my blood. Even if I could shift, there was no guarantee that wolf-me would remember what human-me wanted. Some prey sauntering through the fields might distract me, and I would end up ten miles away in Lake Stevens with a rabbit dangling from my jowls.

“Good. That’s all you have to tell them. Whoever. I haven’t sent out any résumés yet, but I have to soon. I can’t keep living in the ADU at my parents’ house, not when they insist on a curfew. If it’s not a hunt night, I have to be home by one. Like I’m a teenager . Have you ever heard of any people so repressed? ”

“I have not.” I pressed my forehead to the gate and peered around the courtyard. I wanted a clue, damn it.

“If I had my own condo, I could live by my own rules.”

“I wish you the best in fulfilling your career and financial goals, but I called about something else.” I would probably cave and let her list me as a reference if she kept asking, but I felt squeamish about vouching for someone’s employment skills when I hadn’t observed them. Besides, wasn’t there a rule against asking relatives to be your reference?

“Oh, right. You called me.”

“Yes, I did. Remember when your father looked up the business that’s been buying werewolf artifacts? He got a list of places they own, right? I remember you mentioning a few.”

“That’s right.”

“The owner, and his mad-scientist buddy, have moved out of their Arlington location. Do you think you can get me the list so I can check their other facilities? What was the name of the business that owned everything? The Tumwater Tonic Corporation. I think that’s it. Oh, and can your mom check the MLS to see if the other addresses have also been listed for sale?”

“Anyone can check that, but sure. I’ll get them for you.” Jasmine hesitated. “Is this about Duncan?”

Since she had been with me the night he’d disappeared, she’d witnessed him being called away.

“I’m trying to find him, yes.”

“Good. He’s got that sexy accent.”

“And is thus worth rescuing?”

“ Obviously .”

After hanging up, I finished walking the perimeter of the facility, but I didn’t find a way inside. I considered getting my rope out of the truck. I might be able to climb the courtyard wall, but I hadn’t sensed any remnants of magic inside the compound. My gut told me that Radomir and Abrams had completely cleared out. If Duncan had been here at all, he was gone now.

Disappointed, I leaned my forehead against one of the cool adobe walls of the main building.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to come looking,” I said, though it was possible that those guys had moved their operations and listed this place for sale before they’d summoned Duncan. They’d probably decided to leave the night I’d gotten away with the artifacts, maybe figuring I would gather the rest of my werewolf pack and come after him. “I wish I had.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much sway with my fur-sprouting kin. I was lucky the pack hadn’t ostracized me for killing my cousin, Augustus.

My phone rang. I pounced on it, hoping Jasmine already had leads for me, but Bolin—spelling-bee champion, fledgling druid, and my intern at the apartment complex—was calling.

“Hi, Luna,” he said. “Are you here?”

“At Sylvan Serenity? No, I’m… running an errand.” Even though Duncan was a priority, I couldn’t help but wince since my errand was taking place during work hours. I vowed to stay late this evening to tackle whatever deluge of tenant requests had come in that day.

“You might want to come back.”

“Trouble?”

“Yeah.”