Page 75 of A Lady’s Guide to Werewolves

He shook his head. “I assume it’s because he’s afraid we could track him, hunt him, without his spells. I nearly had him.” His eyes were the gold of death masks and cursed coins. “We have the Packs gathered and more Alphas on the island at one time than anyone can remember.” He smiled briefly. “And you’ve still done more than all of them combined on your own.”

She tried not to preen. Then her shoulders slumped. “But it hasn’t been enough.”

“You’ve saved more wolves than the wolves have, never mind your unicorn and your Minotaur and your satyr. That Red Cloak of yours…”

“Magic,” she admitted. “Powerful and very expensive magic.” She might have to sell all of Nettlestone Hall the next time it needed replenishing. Which would be soon. Too soon.

“You’re the magic, Sorcha.”

He said it so softly that she wasn’t entirely certain she had heard him completely. And she couldn’t exactly ask him to repeat himself. Could she? Excuse me, did you just say something nice about me? Might you say it again?

“You’re still looking for one wolf tooth in particular?” she said instead.

“Among other things, aye. He’s got the Arcadia tooth and we’ve got the Bisclavret. The Ossory tooth is the third, but no one has seen it in years. It was stolen from the tomb where it was buried. And we only have until the full moon.”

“How do you know?”

“There is no possibility that a spell using these wolf teeth in particular would not use the power of a full moon on the autumn equinox. The timing is too perfect.”

“Good point. Luckily, I know just where to look.” She tilted her head. “Although I’m afraid you’re going to need pants.”