Page 22 of Another Man’s Treasure

“I’m really good at reading monsters,” Willa says. “Like, scary good. When I meet this guy, I’ll be able to tell you everything about him. It weirds people out, so I don’t usually bring it up at first, but I love to use it on Wild so I can figure out what’s going on in his life. You know, if I waited for him to tell me, it’d take forever.”

He grumbles again.

Ginger leans over and licks Willa’s cheek, and Willa jumps but then holds still. Ginger gives her another tentative look while I watch.

“She’s never quite this friendly up front.” I reach back and scratch Ginger’s jawline. “But perhaps if you can easily read monsters, you knew that already.”

Willa smiles at me, this one a little softer.

I cock my head to the side. “What do you read about me?”

No sooner have I asked the question than Wilder starts shaking his head, looking at his sister in the rearview mirror. “No, Wills. Don’t go there. It’s too much too soon.” He shoots me a warning look. “You don’t want to know, Oz, you really don’t.”

Willa reaches forward and slaps Wilder’s beefy shoulder. “Aww, come on, Wild; I can go easy this first time. I don’t have to tell Oz all his deepest, darkest secrets.” She smiles at me. “What do you want me to tell you about yourself?”

I shrug. “What kinds of things can you glean from looking at me?”

She snickers. “When I said anything, I mean almost anything. Family history, feelings, desires, secrets.”

I lift both brows. “Seems like at least some of those things are find-outable on the internet, Willa.”

She grins. “So ask me about something that’s not, then.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Might as well tell me all about my family first.”

She cracks her knuckles and cants her head side to side like she’s prepping for a fight. “Think about them, and while you ponder them, I’ll just be looking at you, okay? Takes about a minute.”

Letting my mind wander, I think about my family while Willa stares at me, not blinking. It starts to get a little creepy around the minute mark, and I find myself glancing away.

“Okay,” she says with a chuckle. “Let’s see. You’re an only son. Your folks aren’t around for whatever reason, so you grew up with your grandparents. You haven’t been in Pine Gulch long, maybe six months, but you love it here. It brings out a wild streak in you that you’ve found you enjoy.” She waggles her brows. “How’m I doin’?”

My mouth is open. I’m blinking rapidly, staring at Willa. “That was one hundred percent factual. How do you do that?”

She rests back against the seat and scratches long nails down Ginger’s back. “No idea. It’s not a human thing, so I didn’t get it from our mother. It’s not a troll thing, so I didn’t get it from our sperm donor. I’ve just…always been able to do it.”

I glance from her to Wilder and back again. “I suppose it comes in handy if you’re a lawyer, huh?”

“Very handy,” she says with a devilish grin. “Very, very handy.”

Wilder

When Oz and I slide into the booth across from Saint Ashbourne, the elegant vampire flares his nostrils and looks between us. Crimson eyes fall to the matching sweaters, and he smirks. Before he can say anything, Willa drops into the chair next to him with a bright smile, offering her hand.

“Saint Ashbourne? I’m Willa Lane, Wilder’s lawyer.”

He looks from her to me and back, taking her hand and shaking it heartily. “Lane, hmm? Are you older or younger?”

Willa laughs but doesn’t answer. He’s underestimating her already, and I love that for me. Willa’s petite for a troll woman, although for a human, she’d be on the tall side. And fit, incredibly fit. Everything about her gets her underestimated.

The minotaur waiter swings by and grabs our drinks, and I remember to lay my arm along the bench behind Oz, my fingers nearly touching his shoulder. I don’t want to touch him in a way that makes him uncomfortable, but at some point, we’ll probably have to do some public PDA.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Willa slips a sheet of paper across the table to Saint. “I’ve reviewed the final sale documents, as well as all of the documentation available at the Auction House.” She winks at him. “Can you believe they keep records in that place? Anyhow, it actually goes back to the creation of this haven, and there are some, well, let’s say there are discrepancies in the data, all in the Sandovals’ favor, of course.”

Saint’s nostrils flare, and he takes the page, scanning it quickly. When his eyes darken, I know we’ve got him. He looks back at her, setting the sheet down. “I wasn’t aware of any of this, but I’ll look into it.”

She smiles as the minotaur returns with our drinks. Taking a sip, she rolls her eyes to the back of her head. “My gods, the wraith make a killer Manhattan. Rivals the best in Laporte, I swear, and that’s really saying something. Wild, remember that time we got that amazing Manhattan in the fourteenth arondi⁠—”

“Let’s move on,” Saint says smoothly, interrupting her.