She meets my eyes and raises a brow like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
And my Wolf—naturally—starts frothing at the mouth again.
BITE.NOW.TAKE HER.
No.Stop it.You’re embarrassing both of us.
“Um, that was Guy,” Delilah says, shifting awkwardly as she presses the phone against her chest.“He says the shit’s hit the fan.”
“Be more specific,” I grunt, tearing my eyes off Megan.
“You might wanna check out the old Crypt Mansion,” she continues.“Says we’ve got unwanted, uh,squattersagain.”
“Squatters?”Megan asks as she walks over, curiosity lighting up her face.
I sigh and stand, grabbing my gear from behind the front desk.
Glock.
Salt pouch.
Silver chain.
Iron spike.
And a few other odds and ends we don’t keep on record.
“What’s all that for?”Megan asks, watching me pack it all like I’m suiting up for a paranormal apocalypse.
“You never know in this town,” I mutter.
And that’s the God’s honest truth.
Could be a harmless coven of runaway witches trying to vibe in a haunted attic.
Could be a revenant.Or a pissed-off vampire who forgot Crypt Mansion was condemned for a reason.
Could be worse.
Either way, she’s coming with me.
And if anything even thinks about touching her?
My inner Wolf snarls.
Well, let’s just say they’ll learn real fast just what kind of monster I really am.
Chapter6
Owen
We take the cruiser—more of a suped up AWD SUV with a magically armored exterior.
She insists on riding shotgun, even though she clearly doesn’t trust my driving.
The minute I take a hard turn out of the lot, her hand flies to the dash like she’s bracing for impact.
“Do they not teach defensive driving in Sheriff school?”she asks, deadpan.
