Moon Glamour by Aimee Easterling (books to read to be successful TXT) 📕

deal with bullies without resorting to fisticuffs.” His lips curled into a self-deprecating smile. “Which isn’t to say I always manage to remember to use my words.”

Harper glanced in my direction, and I got the distinct impression she didn’t want me to hear her next question. So I focused my eyes on the other girls’ juggling fiasco while straining shifter ears to their limit to pick out her opening gambit.

“Do you ever deal with custody cases?”

Tank nodded. “I do. They can be messy if there’s no clear evidence who should be a minor’s guardian.”

“How do you figure that out?”

I hesitated, wanting to be privy to the rest of this conversation. But Harper hadn’t wanted me to listen. All three girls were safe, and I had another engagement calling.

“Will you guys be okay if I catch up on emails?” I asked, rising off the log I’d chosen as my seat. My ankle didn’t twinge once.

“Sure.” Harper was too intent upon smashing hot marshmallows into melting chocolate to look at me, but Tank gave me his full attention. He glanced at the abandoned crutches, at me, then left whatever he’d been about to say silent. Offered a single nod instead.

He’d take care of Harper and Clara. He wasn’t hiding his face either.

So I left them there. One big, happy, temporary family.

Left them there and strode to the cabin on the end that Butch had come out of earlier. None of the doors here had locks, and Butch seemed like the sort who’d keep his car keys on a hook where they had no chance of getting misplaced.

I was wrong. A carved wooden shelf sat where I’d expected a hook to be. The shelf looked newer than the faded wall around it, intricate indentations turning what could have been simple braces into two trees holding up a cloud-shaped top.

The keys were right there, though. Easily accessible. Just what I needed since my own car was parked in front of my apartment where I’d left it before the museum gig.

It was stealing, but stealing was what I was good at. I grabbed the keys, borrowed the convertible, and headed back into the city to meet my boss.

Chapter 17

The streets stunk of wolves. I parked four blocks over from the museum but ended up veering out of my way when the first wave of fur hit me. Ducking down behind a hedge, I surveyed the dark and empty street.

Nobody was present, but the strength of the scent suggested werewolves had been here recently. Perhaps they’d passed by repeatedly? Best guess, these were Rowan’s henchmen, patrolling the city to ensure no one else made the same faux pas I had. I wasn’t so sure the safe-passage card in my wallet would be enough to get me off the hook a second time if I was caught.

So don’t get caught. I crept toward the darkened house the hedges surrounded, intending to cut through the backyard and find a less wolfy route leading to my destination. Only problem? The residents had installed motion-activated floodlights. The sudden flare of fluorescence was blinding. I jerked, twisting my injured ankle the tiniest bit and setting off a cascade of pain.

“It’s not that bad,” I muttered as I retreated. Back to the street and away from the backyard that was now fully illuminated. It was safer to risk Rowan’s scouts than it was to set off a burglar alarm and draw in human police.

Stepping back onto the sidewalk, I ignored the prickling of skin that promised I was acting like prey at a watering hole. The streetlight’s glow wasn’t as intense as that of the security light, but it was more wide-ranging. The open street made it impossible to guard my back and my front at the same time...

A yip made me jump. Wolf, not dog. And close, somewhere between me and the museum....

I hesitated, eying the path ahead where a streetlight had burned out and plunged the street into total darkness. I was going to be late if I didn’t keep walking.

But late was better than caught. Late was better than explaining myself to Rowan when Lupe wasn’t there to bail me out a second time.

I retreated to Butch’s car and eased the vehicle back onto the street.

IT TOOK TWO TRIES TO find a wolf-free parking space. Even then, I didn’t trust that patrols wouldn’t stumble upon my trail as soon as I rounded the first corner.

So I used an old dog trick, finding a patch of fresh excrement and step-smearing awfulness across the bottom of my tennis shoes. Marina was going to turn up her nose even worse than usual when she came within nose range, but shifters sniffing at my trail would think I was just a scent-challenged human. They’d never guess I was another wolf.

By the time I reached the museum, the lights were out and the steps were empty. No wonder—it was closer to 8 than 7:30. Still, I found a shadowed spot behind a Grecian column and settled down to wait.

And wait. And wait. When I’d arrived, I was panting from evasive actions and wincing at each step on my throbbing ankle. Now, the only sensation was chill from the marble beneath my butt.

Well, part of that chill may also have emanated from the questions running through my head. Why was I hanging out in such a dangerous spot when Marina looked to be a no-show? Did I have a death wish? Or—as seemed more likely—an inability to relax into a friendly gathering complete with bonfire and s’mores?

The image of Tank twirling Harper’s marshmallow stick over flickering flames warmed me ever so slightly. Warmed me enough that I was able to tamp down my indecision and rise, stuffing cold fingers into not-quite-so-cold pockets.

Whether Marina had stood me up or I’d missed her due to tardiness, we weren’t meeting tonight. I might as well ditch my stinky shoes, return Butch’s car, and hope he hadn’t noticed it was missing.

I took a