“Why are you blushing?” Kenna perked up. “Did he flirt? Or try to get in your pants?”

“No! I’m just, well, it’s…it’s embarrassing. What grown twenty-first century woman faints? Who does that?” She pointed a finger at her way too calm friend. “And why aren’t you wigged out by the werewolf thing?”

“You’re telling me you passed out because you found out your hunky guy is a werewolf? There are other fish in the sea, so to speak. No need for such a strong reaction.”

“I passed out because apparently all of the blood rushes out of my head when supernatural weirdos show up on my porch.” Lizzie countered. Supernatural weirdo was a bit harsh and not entirely fair. John was actually turning out to be quite nice…

“Wait a minute. You were completely freaked out when I mentioned the word werewolf on the phone. How are you so okay with this?” Lizzie looked suspiciously at her friend.

“I’ve had a ten-minute car ride to get used to the idea.” Kenna looked incredulous. “How are you not? You’ve had two years with the whole ‘magic exists’ concept. I’d think that would be the big hurdle. If there’s magic, is it that big of a stretch to think there might be werewolves?”

“Or vampires or demons…” Lizzie muttered. At Kenna’s questioning look, Lizzie clarified. “No, I haven’t met any, and I don’t know if they exist. Just a random thought.”

“Not so random when we’re talking werewolves and magic books. But back to the story—you said you guessed?” Kenna had gradually moved them to the sofa in the living room during their conversation.

Lizzie told her about the two “wolf hybrid” sightings. How her dogs reacted the same way to the wolf and to John. And, finally, the weird vibe she got when he talked about his family.

“So John’s family is probably his pack. That’s how that works with wolves, right?” Lizzie paid a little attention to the nature shows on wolves. But only a little. She’d certainly be more attentive in future.

“Except he’s not a wolf. So who knows. He didn’t deny it when you told him you suspected?” Kenna asked.

“No. Just said he was, then I passed out. I’m almost sure he was coming over to tell me. After last night, I knew something freaky was going on with my stalker wolf. Now that I think back, I had this really strong impression the wolf was a ‘he.’ Not an ‘it.’”

“Looks like you were right. I’ve always said your intuition is good. Maybe it’s magic,” she said and arched her eyebrows. “So what has this John character told you about the book?”

“It’s a family diary—his family’s, and only people called Record Keepers can read these magic books. John thinks I’m a Record Keeper. There you go. You know what I know.”