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“Radical as the suggestion may sound,” Victor began, opening our motel room door. “Shall we focus more on not dying and less on Zodiac’s lack of body hair?”

Zee planted himself in front of the mirror and dabbed at a minor bruise on his chin. “Oh, I know, I’ll glamor one on.”

Victor rested his ass on the window sill, quiet in contemplation.

For some reason, it felt as though all of this was my fault. I had technically volunteered us to help. I scratched the back of my neck. “So uh . . . I guess we’re staying here for a while . . . at least until we find the killer who did that to their packmate.”

“It is rather unusual—” Victor began, but was promptly interrupted by Zee.

“I’ve never seen so much fluff in one room. They have no chill. We were minding our own business, eating the best pancakes, and then to just dump a body on us and claim we did it? So fuckin’ rude, amiright?”

I sat on the end of Zee’s double bed, aimlessly testing its bounce. “I guess they don’t like outsiders much.”

“May I continue, or are more random thoughts likely to fall from your mouth?” Victor asked Zee.

“No, I think that’s all of them.” Zee propped himself against the dresser and crossed his arms.

“As I was saying . . . it’s rather unusual for werewolves to invite outsiders into their personal altercations. As you noted, traditional packs such as this one, generally police their own pack.”

“They probably would do that, but I kind of volunteered us.”

“You did?”

“I guess it’s uh . . . actually what we’re here for. To help fix things. It’s what we do now, right? As heroes.”

“I see . . .” Victor said skeptically. “That somewhat explains our involvement.”

“Why don’t they just call the SSD?” Zee asked.

“The SSD is already stretched thin. Their agents would take days to get here, if they even arrived at all. Outside the cities, Lost Ones police themselves,” Victor explained.

“Fair. Nobody calls them much in the city either. So I guess we’re stuck here . . . unless Adam dragons all over them?” Zee faced me. “You could, now you’re not cursed.”

“It’s not that simple. In this form I’m stronger than I look, but to do more I’d have to shift, and if I did that . . . You’ve seen how big I am. I’d crush the bar, everyone in it, and you guys too. It’s too risky, and as much as I enjoy a good massacre, I’m not sure they all deserve to die-by-dragon just because they accused us of murder.”

Zee pursed his lips. “Valid,” he said after a moment’s thought. “At least we’ve got the nuclear eat-everything option as backup if this improvised murder mystery goes balls-up.”

“Werewolves can be managed with sensitive treatment, but Adam, why would they even want our help or your vow?”

“Because they know we’re awesome?” Zee asked.

“No, there’s more to it⁠—”

A knock at the door interrupted Victor.

I hopped to my feet to open it. “I guess we’ll find out.” Opening the door revealed a six-foot-high pallet of boxes on a delivery trolley, and a young woman peeking out from behind it.

“Hullo. Delivery for one Mr. Zodiac?”

“Uh, Zee?”

Zee poofed into the doorway, muscling me behind him. “Perfect timing. Thank you, delivery lady.”

The delivery woman wheeled the Victor-height pallet of boxes into the room, unhooked her trolley, and waved a goodbye, leaving the three of us staring at the stacks of unmarked packages.

Zee rubbed his hands together with glee. “Hello, my sweet, precious babies.”

“I fear I’ll regret asking, therefore I shall refrain from doing so,” Victor remarked dryly.