wolfsbane. The things we can’t.”
“Wolfsbane? That actually exists?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Monkshood, people usually call it. Might even be some around here, I think it grows this far north. It’s kind of pretty. I can touch it—it’s not like silver—but you feed it to a werewolf, they’re gonna have problems.”
“Oh, Ian called. You better tell him you’re okay. I…I told him you had a headache, because I wasn’t sure—”
“It’s cool,” he said, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Thank you.”
“So what did you find at the house?” she said, as he sent his text to Ian. “When you were ‘Remus’?”
“A bunch of muddled smells,” he said. “Basically it was to get a baseline. Something happens, we’ll know where it’s coming from, where it’s going.”
“This is a lot to take in,” she said.
“I know.” He reached out to take her hand. “Most of the time, things just get passed down through families. So everyone grows up knowing. Your uncle said that when your mom died, he couldn’t figure out what your dad knew, and he just…put it off, for too long. He was hoping the two of us could find the best way to tell you, but then he….”
“He had a heart attack,” she said. “That’s…normal. Like, a human thing. I thought werewolves were super healthy and strong and all that.”
“We are,” he said. “But we’re not immortal. He was eighty-seven, that’s not too unusual for a werewolf. Cancer, heart disease—we don’t have every disease, but we can get sick like anyone. I can stay here as long as you want me to, answer any question I can.”
“We have to drive out to my uncle’s house this afternoon,” she said. “We’re meeting with the lawyer at four.”
“Well,” he said. “Maybe I should come with you. I can say I’m looking for anyone who might be looking out for your uncle’s money. It might give me a better idea of if there was any trouble in the pack about the clans.”
“Yeah,” she said, though she wasn’t wholly on board.
“I could take you to lunch,” he said. “We can talk. And then we’ll drive up together, Ian can keep an eye on the house.”
“I don’t—I don’t need a babysitter,” she said. “None of us do.” She grabbed the bracelet with her free hand. “I can do a little research.”
“That’s just mean,” he said.
She looked at the silver. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess you’re right. How do you hide it? Don’t people notice when you…cry out in pain or whatever?”
“People don’t wear that much silver,” he said. “When they do it’s usually a necklace or earrings. Easy to miss. And….” He might as well say it. “I’m usually more careful with people I’ve just met.”
“You’re…you’re coming on pretty strong.”
“I can’t believe you’re not feeling what I’m feeling,” he said.
She didn’t answer him. Did that mean she wasn’t? Or was she just not ready to admit it? He had to be patient. This was a lot to take in all at once. The money, the animals, and now the whole werewolf thing. Only an asshole would want to push her, and he wasn’t an asshole.
“Let me take you to lunch,” he said. “We can just talk. We don’t have to talk about the werewolf thing, or anything you’re worried about. We can just be two people out at lunch. Maybe two friends?” He squeezed her hand a little. “And then if you don’t want me to come, I don’t have to.”
She looked at him for a long time. “Okay,” she said. “Lunch. Between friends.”
It was just lunch, but it felt like a triumph.
***
Richard St. Clare, Uncle Oliver’s lawyer, was a tall, thin white man, with skin so pale he looked unhealthy. He’d always reminded Lucy of Ichabod Crane. Now she wondered if he was a vampire. Why hadn’t she asked Jason if vampires existed? She could ask him later.
Right now he was looking up the stairs. Sniffing? She couldn’t tell.
“I’m glad you got him to
“Wolfsbane? That actually exists?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Monkshood, people usually call it. Might even be some around here, I think it grows this far north. It’s kind of pretty. I can touch it—it’s not like silver—but you feed it to a werewolf, they’re gonna have problems.”
“Oh, Ian called. You better tell him you’re okay. I…I told him you had a headache, because I wasn’t sure—”
“It’s cool,” he said, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Thank you.”
“So what did you find at the house?” she said, as he sent his text to Ian. “When you were ‘Remus’?”
“A bunch of muddled smells,” he said. “Basically it was to get a baseline. Something happens, we’ll know where it’s coming from, where it’s going.”
“This is a lot to take in,” she said.
“I know.” He reached out to take her hand. “Most of the time, things just get passed down through families. So everyone grows up knowing. Your uncle said that when your mom died, he couldn’t figure out what your dad knew, and he just…put it off, for too long. He was hoping the two of us could find the best way to tell you, but then he….”
“He had a heart attack,” she said. “That’s…normal. Like, a human thing. I thought werewolves were super healthy and strong and all that.”
“We are,” he said. “But we’re not immortal. He was eighty-seven, that’s not too unusual for a werewolf. Cancer, heart disease—we don’t have every disease, but we can get sick like anyone. I can stay here as long as you want me to, answer any question I can.”
“We have to drive out to my uncle’s house this afternoon,” she said. “We’re meeting with the lawyer at four.”
“Well,” he said. “Maybe I should come with you. I can say I’m looking for anyone who might be looking out for your uncle’s money. It might give me a better idea of if there was any trouble in the pack about the clans.”
“Yeah,” she said, though she wasn’t wholly on board.
“I could take you to lunch,” he said. “We can talk. And then we’ll drive up together, Ian can keep an eye on the house.”
“I don’t—I don’t need a babysitter,” she said. “None of us do.” She grabbed the bracelet with her free hand. “I can do a little research.”
“That’s just mean,” he said.
She looked at the silver. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess you’re right. How do you hide it? Don’t people notice when you…cry out in pain or whatever?”
“People don’t wear that much silver,” he said. “When they do it’s usually a necklace or earrings. Easy to miss. And….” He might as well say it. “I’m usually more careful with people I’ve just met.”
“You’re…you’re coming on pretty strong.”
“I can’t believe you’re not feeling what I’m feeling,” he said.
She didn’t answer him. Did that mean she wasn’t? Or was she just not ready to admit it? He had to be patient. This was a lot to take in all at once. The money, the animals, and now the whole werewolf thing. Only an asshole would want to push her, and he wasn’t an asshole.
“Let me take you to lunch,” he said. “We can just talk. We don’t have to talk about the werewolf thing, or anything you’re worried about. We can just be two people out at lunch. Maybe two friends?” He squeezed her hand a little. “And then if you don’t want me to come, I don’t have to.”
She looked at him for a long time. “Okay,” she said. “Lunch. Between friends.”
It was just lunch, but it felt like a triumph.
***
Richard St. Clare, Uncle Oliver’s lawyer, was a tall, thin white man, with skin so pale he looked unhealthy. He’d always reminded Lucy of Ichabod Crane. Now she wondered if he was a vampire. Why hadn’t she asked Jason if vampires existed? She could ask him later.
Right now he was looking up the stairs. Sniffing? She couldn’t tell.
“I’m glad you got him to
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