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“No. But I haven’t gone into the closet. I’m not brave enough.”
He chuckled. “Let’s start with the receipt and see how far we go.”
We walked back into the living room. “Have you ever been to the Crystal Inferno?” Connor asked Jude.
She snorted. “I’m not wasting money on hippie crystals and herbs. We’re already magic. Don’t need any of that nonsense.”
I guessed she wasn’t aware her son’s feelings were different.
“Then we’ll thank you for your time and get out of your hair.”
“Sure, chief,” she said, and lifted her bottle in salute.
***
We met Alexei in a plot of green between the Williams house and our cabin.
“Anything?” Connor asked.
Alexei shook his head. “Gone. Cabin’s a mess, small for the three of them, and needed airing out. It was disgusting, but they haven’t been there in a few days. Smelled musty. Milk’s spoiled. I dug around, didn’t find anything that indicated where they might be or how they’re making the transformation. You find anything?”
“Nothing about where they are or what they’re doing,” Connor said. “Zane’s a punk—and not in the charming way I was a punk,” he added for my benefit. “Family confirms he’s a troublemaker, gets fixated on things, and leads the others around.”
“We did find this,” I said, and offered him the receipt.
Alexei’s brows lifted. “Who spends four hundred bucks at a place called the Crystal Inferno?”
“Someone buying magic supplies?” Connor offered.
Alexei nodded. “That could work. You going to check it out?”
“Yeah. Maybe we can nail down their location. In the meantime, can you talk to Georgia? Presuming Traeger’s right about the ‘clubhouse’ being out in the woods, the clan needs to get people out there looking, searching.”
Alexei nodded. “Fat chance, but I’ll ask.”
“We’ll meet you back at the cabin,” Connor said. “Be careful out there.”
“Same to you,” Alexei said, then slid his gaze to me. “And be careful with that damn sword.”
***
We walked back to the cabin to get the bike for the drive into town. Connor rolled his neck and shoulders as we walked, as if fighting back tension.
“Are you okay?”
“Frustrated,” he said. “Shifters are allowed to live their lives without worrying about politics, drama. But there comes a point where it just seems they’ve stuck their heads into the sand. It makes me... punchy.”
“Would you like to spar? I’d give you a fighting chance.”
Connor snorted. “I’ve already seen what happens when we spar, brat. And we’ve got work to do.”
I couldn’t really disagree with that.
The drama notwithstanding, it was a beautiful night for a drive. Clear and just breezy enough. We took the old main road toward town, then veered away from the shore into the set of tidy blocks where the courthouse and post office stood. The Crystal Inferno sat at the end of the road, the slender bookend in a row of buildings that included a bar and a bank.
The store name blinked in neon letters, a crystal ball among them. It lit in stages: bottom, middle, top. Bottom, middle, top, the neon buzzing quietly in the darkness. It was late, but the store was still bright despite the hour, either for the thrill of humans dipping a toe into the occult in darkness or for the Supernaturals who apparently shopped here. Crystals hung from strings in the windows that flanked the door, and the shelves were well stocked.
“Ready?” Connor asked.
