The door to one of the cabins closest to the pathway leading to the fire pit opened and a pale, dark-haired man stepped out. He was wiry, short, and couldn’t have been much older than his early twenties. He froze when his gaze landed on me.
I started walking toward him without even thinking about what I was going to do.
“You’re Harris,” the man said, watching me as I approached. His voice was soft and low. Not quite a whisper, but hushed, as if he was almost afraid of being heard at all. His arms were crossed over his chest, hands on his elbows. My detective brain noted it as both closed-off and self-soothing. Weird.
“Good guess.”
“Reed asked me to check on you before he left.” He flashed me a shy smile. “We don’t exactly get a lot of visitors here.”
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. Changing into wolves under the light of the moon would probably freak out the tourists.”
“It’s definitely not on the brochures.”
“There are brochures?”
“Figuratively. I’m Daniel, by the way.”
I noted that, while he smiled, he didn’t offer me his hand.
“Harris. But we’ve already established that.”
“Right. So, um… do you need anything?”
“A tour would be good.” An explanation would’ve been even better, but I doubted Daniel could provide one.
“Oh.” Daniel lifted a hand and gestured around us vaguely. “Right. Um. Well, this is kind of it, I guess.”
It was probably a trick of the light, but the air around his hand seemed to shimmer and crackle. Just for an instant, then it was gone.
“Everyone stays in the cabins, mostly,” Daniel went on, as if oblivious to what had just happened. “And there’s a fire pit, where we all gather when we have to talk as a group. If the weather allows it.” He paused, as if thinking about it. “And… um… we sometimes eat together or hold meetings in the mess hall.” Then he pointed at the largest structure, right in the center of the line of cabins, also made of logs, its roof covered in moss. “We do pack breakfasts every week. But mostly, everyone eats in their own cabins.”
“Is there running water?” I hadn’t checked, though I ought to have. “You guys clearly have electricity.”
“Yeah, we’ve got running water here.” He cracked a smile. “We’re not total heathens.”
“Just animals.” I smiled to let him know I meant it as a joke. “But only sometimes.”
“Not all of us.”
That caught me off guard. “You’re not a wolf?”
“I do other stuff for the pack.” He hesitated. “I cast spells, mostly. And I sometimes help Emma and Sarah with the research.”
“You cast spells? So… you’re a witch?” The only witch I had ever seen in action was Poppy, the redheaded witch who had helped foil Magnus, an ancient and very nasty vampire, when he had attempted to destroy Cole and Thierry, his progeny. She had been… formidable. Capable of turning bloodthirsty vampires into stone statues with a few spoken words.
The crackle of power I’d seen around Daniel’s hand made sense, then. Strange how I hadn’t seen it around Poppy when we first met.
“Are you a really powerful witch?” I blurted out, without thinking.
“Not really.” He looked uncomfortable. “Male witches are usually called warlocks, by the way. But it’s pretty much the same thing.” Then he paused, flushing red. “And I’m not as strong as some, but I guess I do okay most of the time.”
“Do all werewolf packs have witches and warlocks as members?”
Daniel gave me a curious look. “You ask a lot of questions for a human. I would’ve figured you’d be more freaked out.”
“You guys aren’t my first experience with supernatural creatures.”
“That’s probably a good thing, I guess,” Daniel said slowly. “And to answer your question, I wouldn’t know. This is the first pack I’ve ever seen firsthand. And I’m not even technically a member,” he added. “No one has ever initiated me or anything.” Then he paused, biting his lip, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sort of a consultant, I guess. It’s not that big of a deal.”
