“And they call us the bad guys.”
He flipped to the very beginning of the spell, to the chant that launched the book. Every spell began with a chant, but while most invoked natural elements or talents, he could not make heads or tails of that part. Some of it made more sense after his studies; the rocks and the trees corresponded to talents, but the rest was an absolute mystery. Two, three, six, twelve?
It looked like one of his encryptions: legible data hidden in plain sight as gobbledygook. The good news was that to destroy the shifters, they had to start the spell, and that didn’t seem possible. The bad news was, even if they wanted to delete the spell, they also had to start it.
He sagged and came back to reality. To delete the spell meant witches, and right now, there was no witch in his life.
His fingers jerked when someone knocked on the door. That never happened. His admin always signaled…
He glanced at his computer to see the warning message flashing.
He saw the name Nico and scrambled, pulling a folder over the book at least three inches tall, so it sat perched like a huge and obvious mushroom in front of him as Nico burst in.
Many of his wolves worked for the business. It was a good deal for all of them. He had people he knew and trusted, and they had a job that would accommodate a wolf.
That took more work than people expected, with strict scent-free policies on top of amazing HVAC. It was remarkable how smelly a group of humans could get after eight hours in close quarters. Add metallic deodorants and gasoline perfumes on top of that, and it was entirely intolerable. His soundproofing was also the best in the world, and everyone got an office, not one of those cattle cars of cubicles. For a shifter who could hear a person chewing gum at fifty feet, it was essential.
Nico was not his employee. Mateo didn’t know what he did. As his alpha, he could’ve insisted, but it always seemed to cross a line with one of his closest friends. Well, they were as close as an alpha wolf could be with anyone.
Except her.
Don’t think about it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nico asked.
Mateo blinked.
He had been expecting a joke or a question, but never about his actions. That just wasn’t done.
“I work here?” Mateo said, feeling absurd.
“Why aren’t you in Colorado?”
His wolf howled in longing, but the human half of his soul felt a spark of genuine anger. “Not you too. There’s nothing magical about a forest.”
This was the biggest lie he’d ever told. There was something magical about the forest in Colorado. She had dark hair and piercing blue eyes and smelled like a rose.
“In the last two days, you’ve snapped at every single wolf in the pack, and when you’re not exploding, you’re staring into the middle distance with a look on your face like you just ate a lemon.”
“I have not.” Had he?
“Jackson hid under the dining room table until you left this morning.”
His mouth gaped. He didn’t know. He would’ve smelled him, right?
Did you know?He queried his wolf.
His wolf shrugged. Mateo didn’t know if that meant it knew and didn’t care or if it hadn’t noticed either.
“I will get it together,” Mateo said stubbornly.
“You hate this,” Nico said.
“I love Jackson,” Mateo said and had to spend another second pushing the wolf down in outrage at the idea that he could be bad for his nephew. Okay, maybe his wolf was a little trigger-happy right now.
Nico waved that away with a flick of a huge hand. “You love the family, we know. But you hate this. You haven’t been happy in years.”
“Bullshit,” Mateo said. It came out as a snarl.
