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A woman looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes widened at the sight of the man, and she glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone to save her.
He ignored it. He knew how he looked. He couldn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He just wanted what was his. What he’d come for.
He knew it was here too.
He could smell it.
Faint, but still there.
He sucked in a greedy breath, tasting the last lingering scent.
The woman said, “Help you?”
The man said, “I think you have something for me.”
“That right? Don’t know what that would be. Never seen you before in my life. You’re not from around here.”
The man chuckled tiredly. “No. Definitely not. I’m not even sure where here is.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Bedford. Kentucky.”
“Huh,” the man said. “Never been to Kentucky before. How about that.” He took a step toward the counter and was surprised when he found he couldn’t move. He should have seen this coming. Stupid mistake.
He looked up.
Above him, etched into a beam on the ceiling, was a glyph he didn’t recognize, pulsing green.
“Wolf,” the woman whispered.
“Witch,” he replied. “I’m not here to hurt you. Or anyone in this town.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“You have something for me.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“A week ago, another wolf came in here,” he said. “Give or take a day or two. Left a message. Probably told you I’d be coming.” He sighed. “Probably bitched about it too.”
She stared at him for a moment.
Then she nodded. “I might remember something like that. I didn’t believe him when he told me who it was for. Name like that doesn’t come around these parts.”
“Lived here long?”
“All my life.”
He looked out the window. “There used to be a pack around here, right
? Probably before you. Who was their witch? Your mother or your father?”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Humor me.”
“My mother. She’s dead. Long time. Wolves are long gone.” She frowned. “I like it better that way. Don’t care much for wolves. You’d do best to move on.”
“I will. Just as soon as you give me the message.”
