“About what?” I focus all my attention on the road. The streets are trying hard to bring in the Christmas spirit, but no amount of cinnamon scent, frosting on windows, and fake snow can help LA from looking like it’s borrowing the festivities.
Nick knows me too well to let me get away with it. “Why are we on this damn excursion at the ass-crack of dawn when we could’ve gone in the evening? And why do you look like you’re driving us to our early demise?”
“It's literally nine a.m.” I ease up on the gas.
“It's still dawn for me because I was working until morning,” he says confidently.
“What kind of stupid ass logic is that?”
“Matt, you seriously look like you’re being haunted by a medieval ghost,” he comments, ignoring me.
“Why a medieval ghost?”
“I think they’d just be more annoying, you know?” he says.
I nod. “The fact that I see logic in that tells me why it’s good for families to drift apart after a certain point.”
Nick laughs. “You wouldn’t last a day without me. Anyway,why the grim mood? I thought all that time with your human, sorry, Oliver, would have you skipping everywhere.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I mumble.
“Is it because Sloan's bringing Jell-O shots to the Christmas party?”
That gets me out of my haze. “She's what?”
“Maybe I can drop the entire tray by mistake? Oops!”
I snort despite myself. To be fair, a six-foot-two guy built of muscles pulling out a baby voice can make anyone crack.
“Okay, why do you want to be so involved in the case?” he asks, his voice sobering.
“It’s just…this shouldn't have lasted this long. Oliver is still nosing around, trying to understand what he saw that night. I just don’t like the idea that he was anywhere close to something this dangerous,” I admit. Saying the words out loud makes my fear more real.
“Do you think he suspects anything?”
“Not anything close to the truth yet. But I’m a little worried because he writes for that stupid werewolf show.”
“The Pack? He works forThe Pack?” Nick laughs out loud.
I glare at him.
“Dude, if he works forThe Pack, he’s never going to believe in us, even if you go full wolf right in front of him. That was the reason they decided to make it so accurate. People think it's so cringe it can't possibly be true.”
“I know, but he has so many questions,” I complain.
“His interest will die down. You just need to distract him. Although you know there are other ways to distract people than organizing a party on Christmas, right?” he teases.
“I don't know what you're implying.” I focus ahead. Road safety and all.
“Yeah, yeah.” He lets me have it.
When I park in front of the shop, we sit outside for a few seconds assessing the place. When I look at Nick, his eyes are closed, his face focused.
“Fuck, I can’t get anything over the horrible smell of herbs, flowers, and incense. Can you?” He turns to me hopefully.
My senses are already filled with the strong scent of beeswax, sage, and peppermint. I shake my head.
“Fuck, I hate these shops. I can’t even tell how many people are inside,” he huffs.
