Page 19 of Relics of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #2)

19

Leaving through 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. Lavender was in 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 soft click floated 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 people my 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, it does seem 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 to pick the 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 on them ?

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.

All that exited the door were powerful floral scents. I could also hear something gurgling and thought of a witch stirring a cauldron over a fire.

“You’re rather strong,” I remarked as Duncan slipped inside, “even for a werewolf.”

“You’re strong too. I’ve seen you carrying toilets around.”

“Carrying a ninety-pound toilet isn’t on the same order of magnitude as ripping a stainless-steel door off its hinges.” I joined him inside, putting my back to the wall.

“I think the hinges were made from cold-rolled steel so not quite as strong.”

“Oh, in that case, I’m sure a toddler could have popped that door open.”

Duncan held a finger to his lips. Eyes probing the shadows, he murmured, “We’re not alone.”

Inside, the building was dark save for LEDs glowing from machinery and computer equipment. In the shadows above, a metal catwalk followed the wall, possibly running all the way around the interior. It allowed access to vats taller than we were.

This had to be the laboratory where the perfumes and potions and who knew what else were made. If the hired help wandered through here regularly on the way to the garage, it could account for the scents Duncan had picked up so often.

He pointed toward the catwalk about halfway back along one wall. With the shadows deep there, I might not have picked anything out, but whatever it was—no, whoever it was—must have turned his or her head slightly. For a second, the reflection of green LEDs appeared in a pair of eyes.

I still had the gun and raised it, but I hesitated to fire at a human being who wasn’t immediately threatening our lives. For all I knew, that was some minimum-wage security guard who knew nothing of his boss’s nefarious doings and was simply paid to monitor the laboratory. Duncan hadn’t brought along the rifle he’d liberated from our attackers, but, since he could rip doors from hinges, maybe he didn’t feel the need.

The person, perhaps noticing us looking, vaulted the railing and jumped down from the catwalk. I gaped. That was fifteen feet above the concrete floor. The figure landed in a deep crouch, disappeared behind a couple of vats, and then reappeared, running down a center aisle toward a door on the far side of the building.

It was lit better than the catwalk, and when the person glanced back, I glimpsed brown hair flopping in the eyes of a boyish face. It was boyish, I realized, because he was a boy. Maybe eight years old.

I lowered the gun.

Not moving, Duncan stared after the kid. I thought I caught a hint of the lupine about the boy before he darted through the far door. If so, that could have explained the easy jump from a height that could have broken a leg, though it wasn’t a feat I would have tried.

“Is he the werewolf we heard outside?” I wondered.

Duncan stirred, as if pulling himself from a daze. He must not have expected a child spy either. “I think so.”

He led the way down the center aisle, advancing slowly and glancing into the alcoves and aisles along the way. More than once, he peered up at the catwalks.

The place had my gooseflesh stirred up. As we passed vats, the intensely floral smells almost enough to give me a headache, I sensed magic within more than one. Whatever was sold at the gift shop wasn’t all this company produced. I wondered if the alchemist Rue had heard of this place.

Surprisingly, we reached the door the boy had disappeared through without trouble. I kept expecting boobytraps or for guards to leap out.

This door wasn’t even locked. Duncan eased it open, revealing a wide, well-lit hallway with a couple of windows looking toward the fields. Timber posts and ceiling beams supported the plaster walls, and the floor was made from rustic Saltillo tile. The hallway had to lead into the adobe mansion.

A closed door between the windows led outside, but Duncan passed it by with only a glance. He, too, believed that what we sought wasn’t hanging out in the lavender fields.

We passed under another camera with a glowing red LED.

Nervous, I wiped my hands on my trousers. The wait for something to jump out at us was as stressful as if tanks with shell guns had rolled into the hallway and opened fire.

A door at the far end was made from wide-plank wood, and I trusted Duncan could force it open if he needed to, but when he tested it, it wasn’t locked.

“Other than the two garage attendants,” he murmured, listening at the door and not yet opening it, “it’s like we’re being invited in.”

I almost snorted at the term garage attendants , as if those guys had been positioned there to park cars and wipe windshields.

“The thugs at the apartment complex did want me to come with them,” I said.

“They didn’t have similar feelings about me.”

“True. Maybe you should be walking behind me.”

“A gentleman cannot hide behind a lady.”

“Against the rules of your old books, huh?”

“Precisely.” Duncan opened the door and peered into a large room with a fountain in the middle and a guest-relations counter at the far side. Nobody waited at that counter, but this area looked more like the lobby of a Southwestern-style hotel than a home.

Duncan stepped out, considering the options before us. There were multiple doors that exited from the lobby and also wide steps leading to the upper level. Perky yellow and blue sunburst tiles set into the risers drew my eye.

Duncan sniffed at the air. “Explore randomly or follow the boy?”

“You can track him?”

With the odors from the perfume laboratory clinging to us, I would be hard-pressed to track a rotisserie hot dog to its spit.

“He smells of the fields, fresh earth on his paws—feet.” Duncan pointed toward the stairs.

Despite his words about being unwilling to hide behind a lady, I marshaled my courage and stepped past him, intending to lead the way. Duncan glanced at me but didn’t allow it. He matched my pace so that we climbed side by side.

The wide hallway at the top was carpeted, a timber railing open to the lobby below and closed wood doors lining the opposite wall. Another wood door at the end stood open, office furniture visible inside.

As we walked together toward that office, I did catch an earthy scent, as if the boy had been out digging holes. If he’d been in his wolf form, and the howl suggested that, he could have been digging for moles or other critters that got busy at night.

Duncan paused well before we reached the open door, stopping me with a hand to my wrist.

“There are people inside,” I murmured, sensing more of the big brutes with magical potions flowing through their veins. I also thought the boy was in there, and I smelled a cigar burning.

“Yes.” Duncan looked like he didn’t want to continue, like we would be walking into a trap.

I withdrew the locket and rubbed it, as I had before going on the hunt with my cousins. That night, its magic had seemed to help me with the injuries I’d taken. I might need its help again.

My nerves tingled, and Duncan eyed me, probably sensing its magic. I showed him what I had. Since he’d been the reason we’d found it, he must have been pleased to see that I’d kept it. He nodded to me.

I held it out, offering it to him, in case he also wanted to draw upon the slight protection of its magic. He hesitated, glanced toward the office, and then shook his head. Something told me he knew more about this place, these people, and what was going on than he was letting on. I didn’t know how that could be possible, but a throat cleared in the office. This wasn’t the time for a discussion.

Setting my shoulders, I walked in ahead of Duncan.