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“Chill man. I’m just saying . . . I thought you said we have a new shifter.” He chortled. “If I knew we were having a party, I would’ve brought—”
“We are not.” Just like me, James was a hybrid, and I expected him to sense Spencer at once. “Don’t you feel the wolf?”
“Barely. Where is he? Where’s the shifter?”
My look slid to the road behind him. To suppress my smile, I cleared my throat.
“You’re looking at her, you idiot. It’s not a he.”
James's grin vanished. “What the hell are you talking about? What is she, a rejected mate? Or a runaway from some pack? If so, you know they’ll come after her, Finn, and you know we can’t do that. We don’t want problems with them for many—”
“Would you shut up for a second? She’s neither, okay? She’s like us.”
“What? No fucking way,” he gasped, straightening up. “Holy—”
“Like I said. This is a complicated one. So get your shit together. We have work to do.”
“Finn, this isn’t a complicated one. This is a not-going-to-happen one. What did you say to that poor girl? Does she know the truth?”
I nodded. “She knows. They both do. But . . .” I heaved a breath. “I’ll explain everything when Liam is here. By the way, where is he? I thought you were coming together.”
“No. He was in Atlanta. But he’s on his way.”
“James,” I rolled my eyes, “You’re staring, and your mouth is still open. Shut it and follow me.”
“Right.”
“Clare, this is my friend I told you about,” I said as we climbed the porch stairs.
Clare put down her cup and held out her hand.
“James.” James beamed, shaking it.
Clare smiled. “Thank you for coming, James.”
I moved behind Spencer and rested my hands on the back of her chair.
“And this is Spencer.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Spencer leaned forward and took his offered hand.
“Oh no. It’s nice to meetyou. It’s an honor, honestly. I don’t think you realize how special you are. I could never—”
But before he could finish his sentence, he noticed my clenched jaw.
“Would you like some coffee, James?” Clare asked.
“Ya.” He nervously ran his fingers up his shaved temple and into his chestnut colored mane with blond highlights on top. “Thanks.”
I pointed at the vacant chair, and as James dropped down, I took my seat next to Spencer.
James’s eyes followed Clare as she headed to the kitchen.
“I can tell your mom isn’t the wolf,” he turned to Spencer.
“No.” She shook her head. “She’s a witch.” She stopped her eyes on him for a second, then asked, “How long have you been a wolf? Shifters age differently, and it’s hard to tell by just looking at you.”
“Only for three years,” James grinned. “But don’t fret, I’m as strong as—”
