Page 54 of The Wolfing Hour

Latin. Great. The official language of cranky scholars and uppity magicals. And, apparently, psychopathic demon hunters.

“So, Miles sees himself as a soldier in this esteemed order and thinks I did something to Mason? Does that mean he’s going to try to take me out? If so, I’m going to have to give him one of those vibrating restaurant pagers to let him know when it’s his turn.”

“Take him seriously, Betty,” Bronwyn said. “Mason and I’ve shielded you, but Miles still figured out what we were doing. That tells you how good he is.”

Somehow, I doubted Mason Hartman had tried hard to shield me from anything.

“When this Miles said thescorched earth, burn La Paloma and Smokethorn to the ground stuff, was he talking about an attack from him or the organization?”

“Pretty sure he means the latter. It’s how they operate. They foment fear in paranormal groups they believe to be harboring demons through intimidation, violence, and magic. I’ve heard stories of them razing entire towns.” She frowned. “It’s interesting he thinks you have Mason, though. Where does he think you’re hiding him? At your trailer park?”

There were worse hiding spots. “Is Miles one of us? A paranormal?”

“Yeah. He’s a truthseeker.”

“He’s a humanlie detector?” Margaux gave me a nervous glance. “That’s not good.”

“If he’s a truthseeker, I don’t understand why he doesn’t just walk up to me and ask where I’m keeping Mason.” I picked up a good luck charm shaped like a four-leaf-clover that had dropped onto the floor. Rubbed it with my thumb before returning it to the box with the others. “We could end this real fast.”

“He’s going to be cautious, because he thinks you’re a demon,” Bronwyn said.

“On a scale of one to ten, how pressing is the Miles threat?” I asked.

Her shoulders drooped. “If the pack is a hot nine, and a demon bursting out of you is a sizzling ten, I’d say Miles is a Mercury-level eleven, and the Org isn’t far behind.”

Thedemon bursting out of youpart felt like a low blow, but I didn’t dwell on it. “So now, on top of everything else, we have to track down Mason, who may or may not be in hiding with Floyd. Out of the frying pan into the fire, right?”

“Looks that way.” Margaux shook her head at me. “Why is nothing ever simple with you?”

“Hey, it’s not like I planned this, witch. Direct your annoyance at Rachel over here.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Bronwyn seemed genuinely upset.

Tough shit.I wasn’t going to apologize.Shewas the liar here. The apologies needed to flow fromhermouth, not mine.

“The pack is out of my area of expertise, but I can help with Mason.” She shuffled to the counter, took out a set of keys, and opened the display case, removing a tray of crystals suspended from leather strings. Beneath it was a panel, and beneath that, a small box.

“What’s this?”

Instead of answering Margaux’s question, Bronwyn opened it and showed her. “It’s a lock of his hair. For a location spell.”

“How’d you get that? I can’t think he gave it to you. The dude hates witches,” I said.

“Dude,” she repeated, and shook her head. “Mason is the leastdudesort of man I’ve ever known. And to answer your question, he did give it to me.”

“Are you two in a relationship?” Margaux asked. Delicately, I thought.

“No.”

“Are you having sex?” I asked, because I had the delicacy of a rabid raccoon in a restaurant dumpster.

“No. Mason likes me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Likes you? The guy’s in love with you. He’s not shy about admitting it.”

Bronwyn blushed. “I know.”

“Do you love him back?”