her desk, peeking over the plastic rims of her reading glasses. Her silk blouse was the color of sun coral. She was never happy when I left someone else in charge of the agency, whether it was she or Rit. June, an older woman, had one of those attitudes that people often mistook for rudeness. She wasn’t rude. Well, okay…sometimes she was, but I didn’t take it personally. June was just very blunt. She could rip the bullshit out of anyone before they got a chance to start with her. Which is why she did an excellent job.
“Well, well, well.” She didn’t look happy. “Where have you been?”
I stopped just inside the doorway, trying to balance the tray of coffee cups in my hands. “Good morning to you too. I brought coffee.”
I rested the carrier tray on my left hip, retrieving a cup. June opened her mouth, but before any words came out, I stopped her. “It’s decaf. I promise. Where’s Rit?”
“Where do you think she is? She’s where she always is. In her office. By the way, it’s noon, not morning.”
I was wondering why I hadn’t spiked her coffee with Prozac when Rit walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of navy blue slacks with a white button-up blouse that accented her thick waves of black hair. Though it usually fell around her shoulders, today it was pulled back into a tight ponytail that made her coffee-and-cream complexion with its cinnamon highlights glow.
I held out the cup of coffee to her as a sort of peace offering, a way of apologizing for dumping everything into her lap.
“Coffee?” I asked.
Her dark gaze flicked to the cup as she took it. “Extra shot?”
“Yeah.”
She gave me a concerned look. “Have you been all right?”
“I’m fine.” I climbed the stairs and walked toward my office with her.
“I’ve been a little worried. The last time we spoke you sounded like there’s a lot going on…” It was her way of asking what was happening in my life. Rit was polite and respected my privacy. She wouldn’t demand I tell her everything. If I brushed the comment off, she’d drop it.
I decided not to. “I’ve been working with the police on another case, and it’s eating a lot of my time. I’m sorry I really haven’t given either June or you an explanation.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know there’s a reason you asked me to take care of things here for a few days.”
I plopped into the seat behind my desk. “How’s business?”
Rit was quiet for several moments. I glanced up and noticed her watching me. “You’re not wearing a gun?”
I hadn’t bothered to stop by my apartment before coming to work. I still felt naked without the gun, but I refused to tuck it in my pants, and well, guns don’t go in pockets, and purses are a good way to lose one, ask any woman. Somehow, we’re capable of losing elephants in our purses. It’s like magic.
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, again.
“I’m fine. My holster isn’t.”
“What happened?”
“The snap broke.”
I checked my desk calendar to see if June had written anything on it, but it was blank. Yay. The little full-moon symbol marked at the beginning of the month caught my attention. The last full moon, I’d gone out of town to shift like I did every full moon. Rosalin had told me I was welcome to go with the pack, along with Claire, a brand-new wolf she’d taken with her. The wolves gather on the night of the full moon to shift and run through the forest. In truth, we’re pack creatures. The only lone wolves are the ones that choose to be, or the ones that don’t have the connections to join a pack.
I spared a glance at next month’s calendar. The full moon would be on my birthday in November. Werewolves can sense the full moon like a woman can sense when she’s about to start her menstrual cycle. A few days before the full moon, I get restless. A lot of the time, I try to go running to burn off the restless energy, but the energy won’t dissipate until after
“Well, well, well.” She didn’t look happy. “Where have you been?”
I stopped just inside the doorway, trying to balance the tray of coffee cups in my hands. “Good morning to you too. I brought coffee.”
I rested the carrier tray on my left hip, retrieving a cup. June opened her mouth, but before any words came out, I stopped her. “It’s decaf. I promise. Where’s Rit?”
“Where do you think she is? She’s where she always is. In her office. By the way, it’s noon, not morning.”
I was wondering why I hadn’t spiked her coffee with Prozac when Rit walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of navy blue slacks with a white button-up blouse that accented her thick waves of black hair. Though it usually fell around her shoulders, today it was pulled back into a tight ponytail that made her coffee-and-cream complexion with its cinnamon highlights glow.
I held out the cup of coffee to her as a sort of peace offering, a way of apologizing for dumping everything into her lap.
“Coffee?” I asked.
Her dark gaze flicked to the cup as she took it. “Extra shot?”
“Yeah.”
She gave me a concerned look. “Have you been all right?”
“I’m fine.” I climbed the stairs and walked toward my office with her.
“I’ve been a little worried. The last time we spoke you sounded like there’s a lot going on…” It was her way of asking what was happening in my life. Rit was polite and respected my privacy. She wouldn’t demand I tell her everything. If I brushed the comment off, she’d drop it.
I decided not to. “I’ve been working with the police on another case, and it’s eating a lot of my time. I’m sorry I really haven’t given either June or you an explanation.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know there’s a reason you asked me to take care of things here for a few days.”
I plopped into the seat behind my desk. “How’s business?”
Rit was quiet for several moments. I glanced up and noticed her watching me. “You’re not wearing a gun?”
I hadn’t bothered to stop by my apartment before coming to work. I still felt naked without the gun, but I refused to tuck it in my pants, and well, guns don’t go in pockets, and purses are a good way to lose one, ask any woman. Somehow, we’re capable of losing elephants in our purses. It’s like magic.
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, again.
“I’m fine. My holster isn’t.”
“What happened?”
“The snap broke.”
I checked my desk calendar to see if June had written anything on it, but it was blank. Yay. The little full-moon symbol marked at the beginning of the month caught my attention. The last full moon, I’d gone out of town to shift like I did every full moon. Rosalin had told me I was welcome to go with the pack, along with Claire, a brand-new wolf she’d taken with her. The wolves gather on the night of the full moon to shift and run through the forest. In truth, we’re pack creatures. The only lone wolves are the ones that choose to be, or the ones that don’t have the connections to join a pack.
I spared a glance at next month’s calendar. The full moon would be on my birthday in November. Werewolves can sense the full moon like a woman can sense when she’s about to start her menstrual cycle. A few days before the full moon, I get restless. A lot of the time, I try to go running to burn off the restless energy, but the energy won’t dissipate until after
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