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“She could have been lying,” Julian said as we drove back toward town.
“Why would she do that?” I asked, shocked.
“If she did it with magic, she wouldn’t want us to know it was possible.”
“Then why did you ask her in the first place?” But I put up a hand to stop him from answering. “It doesn’t matter. My senses tell me she’s okay.”
Julian grimaced but didn’t respond.
“Can you please take me home?” I asked, checking the time. “I’d like to rest up before I have to get ready.”
“For your date with the werewolf?” Julian bit out.
“Careful or you’ll wreck another steering wheel,” I said. “Yes. And even though I enjoy driving you crazy, the real reason I’m going is to see if I can get any information out of him about the victims that might help.”
“I suppose the fact that it’s a dangerous plan doesn’t matter?” he challenged, veering toward my house.
“Of course not,” I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “But I appreciate your concern.”
His answer was another low rumble. “I’d rather take you out tonight and finish what we started on the beach.”
The memory of those intimate moments had me adjusting the air vents toward myself.
“I want that too,” I admitted, unable to look him in the face. “But we agreed the job comes first.”
“I don’t recall agreeing to sharing you with other men for the sake of the job.” Julian pulled up to the curb by the house.
“And I don’t remember us being exclusive or even officially dating.” I climbed out of the car, sure I was red in the face, then slammed the door.
Julian blocked my path to the house, his windstorm messing up my hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I had no right to say that. It’s just difficult for me to remember that this is a different life for you than the one we shared together. You have every right to be with anyone you choose.”
My shoulders lowered along with my indignation. I supposed it would be hard to know someone more than once when your long life was the same. That hurt my head just to muddle through.
“I don’t trust the wolf, Charlotte. There’s something about him I don’t like, and it’s not just his nature. Be careful.”
I also understood hunches and intuition. “I will.”
“May I check on you after your date?” he asked, sounding like a nervous teenager.
I bit my cheek, trying hard not to laugh at his change of attitude. “Fine,” I relented. I may have information to share anyway when he called. “Bye, Julian.”
He nodded and remained still on the grass. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I knew he watched me until I entered the house.
* * *
Zoe insisted I borrow yet another dress, despite the fact my track record hadn’t been great. This time, though, I went for something a bit more…demure—meaning it covered all the necessities without my needing to tug it up or down constantly. It was a soft pink color, not her usual jewel tones. I left my hair loose, smoothed out and falling over my shoulders. Armed with my charmed jewelry, I fastened on my belt and left my room.
“Wow,” I said, coming to a stop at the sight of the house. The chairs and couches had been moved into a circle, and the table sported a plethora of appetizers and desserts. Mama was just setting down a platter of her famous dark chocolate brownies near a copy of the book they’d read, standing propped proudly in the center of the feast. On the cover, a muscular man’s bare chest glistened beneath the light of the moon as he clawed at the air with wicked sharp nails. Suspiciously hair-free for a shifter in my opinion.
“You can still change your plans and stay for book club,” Zoe said from the counter where she arranged a self-serve bar that had everything from fresh coffee to vodka and juice. “Maybe Sam can give us insight into an actual alpha werewolf.”
The doorbell rang, and instead of responding, I jogged to the front to welcome in an eclectic group of older women.
“You must be the psychic sister!” A bone-thin woman in a flapper costume, complete with feather and extended cigarette holder, threw her arms out wide. “I’m Fanny. And this is Agatha and Twiggy.”
A larger woman with stark white hair, green cat-shaped glasses attached to a chain around her neck, and a smooth, ebony face wiggled her fingers at me. The third woman, a slight woman in jeans and a T-shirt that read Show Me the Smut pushed past me.
