Page 13 of Triumph of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #6)

“Looks like the problem of the ladies snooping on our affairs might resolve itself,” Duncan noted as the two ghost-hunters skittered back, one woman almost tripping where the sidewalk transitioned from cement to grass.

“If we do nothing, maybe,” I said.

“ Should we do something? A moment ago, you were speaking with longing about evicting them.”

“I said I couldn’t evict them. They’re good tenants.”

“Who are eager to out any werewolves or other paranormal beings in the area,” Duncan said, though he didn’t appear surprised when I plucked up my sword.

The men—the wizards —stopped by the tripods and other equipment, alternately eyeing it and the ladies.

“ This is what they used to ruin our business,” the bald man with the glowing hand said. Snarling, he grabbed a camera off its tripod, electricity flaring around his grip and crackling in the air.

“Don’t touch that!” One of the women halted her retreat. “It was expensive.”

A pop came from the camera, smoke wafting from it, and the guy hurled it into the grass. His long-haired buddy raised his tire iron toward the suitcase of equipment.

“No!” Now, both women surged forward in objection and sprang at the men.

The bald guy grabbed one of them before she could claw at his face. She screamed when his grip tightened around her wrist, white light flashing and magical electricity surging up her arm.

“Hell.” Sword in hand, I climbed out of the van and strode toward the group.

The ponytail guy dodged the second woman and smashed his tire iron into the suitcase, annihilating equipment.

Furious, she sprang onto his back and tried to snatch the tool from his grip.

But he was bigger and stronger by far, and spun, hurling her off him and into the parking lot.

She lost her footing as she landed hard on the pavement.

Anger twisting his face, the guy stalked toward her and raised the tire iron, as if he meant to smash her next.

“Knock it off,” I yelled, raising the blade.

The wizards glanced at me. At first, they looked like they would ignore me, continuing to take out their ire on the women, but they glanced again, then followed up with longer looks that took in me and the sword.

Since they had magical blood, they should have been able to sense that both the blade and I were dangerous.

“Knock it off,” I repeated, making my voice cold. “This is private property, and you’re trespassing, among other crimes.”

“These snooping little bitches ruined our business.” The one raising the tire iron over the woman’s head thrust it toward her chest. “They made up bullshit photos and put them all over social media, and you wouldn’t believe how many people follow their stupid sites.

We haven’t gotten any business since the word got out. ”

At his feet, the woman shook her head but didn’t otherwise deny the accusation.

Given my experience with these two, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had done something to harm the reputation of the men’s business, but I doubted it justified this level of violence.

The woman lay crumpled on the ground on her side, an arm up, fear contorting her features. He looked like he meant to kill her.

“Put that down,” I said. “You’re not beating anyone up—or worse—on the property I manage.” I glanced toward the street where the police, at Officer Dubois’s request, often parked a patrol car. It wasn’t there tonight.

I lifted my chin. That was fine. There wouldn’t be witnesses if I turned wolf to scare these guys off—or bite them in the balls.

The bald man on the sidewalk had released the other woman but had his glowing hand up to keep her back. With a defiant snarl at me, he kicked over another of the tripods.

I surged forward. He whirled, lifting a tire iron toward me, but I knocked it aside, as if I were parrying a sword. Just like in Lesson Number 5. Thank you, Yuto.

After deflecting the tire iron, I lunged in and rested the sword tip against his throat.

“Shit.” He dropped the tire iron, and his glowing hand extinguished, his magic fading.

Less cowed, the ponytail guy grabbed the woman and hauled her to her feet. “These two owe us thousands of dollars in lost business.”

“Take it to court.” I turned my glare on him while keeping the blade at the other guy’s throat.

“Oh, sure. We’re going to the mundane courts about our summoning business. We’ll explain to the judge about how we call up the dead so people can pay their last respects and make sure their spirits are at rest.”

“Your business is haunted ,” one woman said. “And the building it’s in is a harbinger of evil.”

“It’s in a strip mall across from the golf course. There’s no evil there.”

“There are dead souls all over it.”

“Because people pay us to call them.”

“Just go away,” I told the men. “Nobody attacks my tenants in their own home.”

The man with my sword on his throat spread his arms and didn’t look like he would cause more trouble, but the ponytail guy released his captive and tightened his grip on his tire iron while eyeing the remaining paranormal equipment.

She stumbled and dropped to one knee again, but he ignored her. And me.

He had to sense my power, but maybe he thought I was bluffing. That I wouldn’t stop him from enacting further mayhem?

I growled, feeling the cool air of the night and the magic of the nearly-full moon rising behind the trees.

Ponytail Guy squinted at me, then sprang toward the equipment with the tire iron. Abandoning the bald man, I surged forward to intercept him. He swung the tire iron at one of the cameras, but I batted it aside with the sword.

The air around him buzzed, magic crackling against my skin. It was intense, like it might cause an explosion. I punched him in the face, and the buzz halted.

Behind me, a growl sounded. Without looking, I sensed Duncan back there.

“Oh, shit,” the other wizard said.

The one I’d punched also swore. I pointed the sword at him, promising I would do more than flatten his nose if he didn’t leave. He glanced from me to the sidewalk behind me. Duncan had shifted into a wolf and stood there, lips rippling as he growled and showed off his fangs.

The men sent glares at the women but backed away, hurrying to their car.

“Stay away from our business,” one barked as they drove away.

One of the women surged forward, cursing and grabbing the damaged equipment as she threw wary glances at Duncan.

I offered a hand to help her friend up off the ground. Eyes round, the woman grasped it, looking at me and the sword but also at Duncan. He’d opted for the wolf rather than the bipedfuris, but he was intimidating in either form.

“Thank you for the help,” she said to me.

“I knew there was a wolf,” the other whispered to her. “A were wolf.”

“Did you see him change?”

“No.”

“He’s just a wolf,” I said firmly. “He helps me keep an eye on the grounds.”

Neither looked like they believed that, but they didn’t speak their objections out loud.

“He’s magnificent,” the one gathering their broken equipment whispered.

Duncan raised his chin, looking pleased by the statement.

“You have popcorn grease on your tail,” I told him.

His tongue lolled out in the wolf version of a laugh.

“Will you two do me a favor?” I put the sword aside and helped the women pack away their equipment. “And do your ghost monitoring elsewhere? This place is…”

“Reeking with chaotic energy and paranormal signatures?” one suggested.

“My home. And his territory.” I pointed at Duncan. Actually, it was my territory, but if they hadn’t yet figured out I was a werewolf, I wouldn’t give that away. “We’re not looking to have it featured on social media. We try to keep it a safe place.”

“But it’s already on social media. All kinds of cool stuff has happened here.”

Cool stuff? Like thugs burglarizing apartments and being killed in fights in the parking lot?

Her friend gripped her arm and gave a warning head shake as she glanced at Duncan.

“We get it,” she said. “We won’t ghost hunt here.” A mournful look at the equipment suggested that enough of it had been damaged that they would struggle to do so anyway.

I couldn’t be sad about that. It was possible I hadn’t reacted quite as quickly to defend the bashing of the equipment as I might have if something more important had been under fire.

“Thank you for helping us,” she added. “For protecting us.” She looked at her roommate. “I knew it wouldn’t be a mistake moving in here.”

They gathered their gear and headed back to their unit.

Still in wolf form, Duncan sat at my side and gazed into the woods. Unable to help myself, I licked my finger and tried to rub the glistening smear of grease off his fur.

He gave me a flat look, then pointed his snout toward the woods again. Was he trying to tell me that Lykos was out there? No, I realized as I sensed the presence of a werewolf. It wasn’t the kid but Izzy.

In wolf form? Or her human form? Probably the former. It was hard to imagine the wealthy real estate maven skulking in the woods as a woman.

Duncan’s head swiveled back toward the street. A noisy engine idled out there. The Corvette? Maybe we hadn’t successfully scared those guys away, and they were plotting their next move.

Arms full of their mangled gear, the women headed to their apartment.

“Lock your door,” I called after them.

They glanced warily back and quickened their pace.

Duncan looked toward the woods again. He growled in that direction.

Though he hadn’t met Izzy, and I hadn’t explained much about her or her former pack, the Cascade Crushers, he might have caught her scent on the premises before.

A few days back, Izzy had rather pointedly marked a rhododendron in front of my apartment.

Presumably in her wolf form, but one couldn’t be sure.

Duncan growled toward the street.