“At least the booze was cheap.” I couldn’t help but grumble at how little Adam was able to pace himself. It was all or nothing with that half-turn, and since I was buying, he didn’t mind running up the tab.
“Did you even drink?”
“Of course, I just know what moderation means,” I said, trying to turn the knob, which was locked. “Huh. I guess they went out somewhere.”
“Doubt it.” Adam hiccupped before letting out a squeaky belch. “Austin’s probably in the garage.”
“You need to go to bed.” I fumbled with my keys before unlocking the door.
“I’ll go to bed when I’m damn ready,” he said, stumbling forward. I caught him just in time. “I think I’m ready.”
I led the unstable half-turn to his room, set him on the bed, and then removed his sandals.
“Good night,” I said, turning to leave, but not before he caught my arm. “What?”
“Thanks for the drinks.” He let go and collapsed onto his pillows.
“Yeah,” I muttered as I left the bedroom.Disappointedwas an understatement. Every time I tried to carry on a conversation with him, he’d get another cocktail and disappear. Adam had no issues working the room, dancing and flirting with at least half the guys there, all the while leaving me to fend off every person with a thing for half-turns—which was just about everyone. Oddly enough, I was more popular with the women, and one of them in particular had creeped me out.
I checked each room of the house, but it was empty.
“Austin?” I called out. “Roscoe?”
No response.
After flipping on the light switch to the dining room, I eyed the door leading into the garage. Since Austin had taken over that space and made it clear he didn’t want anyone in there, we all obliged him. Tonight, though, I let curiosity get the best of me.
Upon opening the door, I noticed a large, conical tarp-covered device sitting in the middle of the workshop. Austin’s tools and raw materials were placed neatly on hooks and shelves, andseveral work benches lined the walls. He really took pride in this area; I smiled at the thought of him sitting on one of his benches, tinkering with something.
Tight straps secured the tarp to whatever was under it, so I carefully undid them and let the cover fall. The smile on my face shifted the opposite direction. My jaw clenched with rage.
“What the fuck, Austin?” It was a copper still surrounded by jars of what looked like moonshine. Sothiswas what he had been doing this whole time? Running an illegal booze operation?
My cell phone vibrated again, and I took it out to see the same unknown number. Shortly after I rejected it, the phone rang again, and I grew concerned. I accepted the call and held the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
A moment of silence before a very familiar and angry voice lashed my ears through the speaker. “Good evening, Dakota,” the mayor said with cheerful howling in the background. Was that Roscoe?
“Oh! I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know who it was.”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Um, okay.”
“Do you know where your werewolves right now?”
“They’re not my—”
“Answer the question,” he interrupted.
“I don’t know. I came home, and they were gone.”
“Meet me at 728 North Avenue. The gate will open upon your arrival.”
“Are they with you?”
The line went dead.
