Page 82 of Crashing Tides

All of my instincts scream at me to hang up. To have Duncan or Jane come rescue me. But I can’t move. “OK,” I squeak.

“Good,” he says. “I want you to listen very carefully.”

“OK,” I repeat. When I look through the peephole, there’s no one there. An empty hallway stares back at me.

“I know all about Duncan,” he says, and my stomach drops. “I know he’s a wolf shifter. From a very prominent family. It would be a shame if someone took him away and…” A pause. Contemplative, conspiratorial, dark in a way that has my stomach twisting pre-emptively. “…sold him for a pelt.”

What.

I didn’t even know that was an option.

“Do you know what wolf pelts are used for?”

“N-no.” My hand tightens around my phone. The floor spins underneath me.

“Elite magical camouflage. They can go for hundreds of thousands of dollars. I have three potential buyers lined up.”

I envision Duncan in his wolf form, bound and snarling, staring down faceless men with glinting knives. Acid shoots up my throat. I gag.

“Do you know what we do with the bones?”

“Please,” I beg, pathetic.

“We grind them up into love potions. Wolves are famous lovers, but you already knew that, didn’t you? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Leave him alone.”

A low hum. It shakes my teeth in my jaw. “I could be convinced. But I’d need something from you.”

“Fuck off."

“Give me one measly scale. If you let me take one of your scales, I’ll leave him alone.”

One scale. That would require a shift. Would leave me in a vulnerable position.

If I say no, he’s going to hurt Duncan. I can’t live with that.

“I don’t know how to shift.”

“Oh, I can help you. All we need is a little time together at the beach. Then you can swim away and never think about me again.”

My shoulders are shaking. “I don’t want to.”

“Then Duncan dies tonight.”

Fuck. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“That’s the beauty of this partnership. You just have to trust me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I have someone he trusts outside of Dragoncrest Tower, ready to go inside and tell him that you’re in terrible danger and he needs to come out to the parking lot immediately. You won’t be able to intercept him in time. Can you live with that guilt?”

“He’ll pick up the phone if I call.”

The voice goes sly. I can practically hear the sneer in it. “Dominic, I have been planning this for weeks. Do you think you can stop what’s already in motion?”

Somewhere in the background, I become aware of the noise of a ticking clock.