“I hugged her before we came in. She totally smells like me, doesn’t she?”

“Will you stop with the dog references? I might eventually take offense.” His light, relaxed expression made it clear to her she wasn’t actually in any danger of offending him. She’d seen him tense and pissed off. This wasn’t it.

“I saw you drive up together and get out of the same car. You’re not exactly stealthy, Super Spy.” He smiled warmly at her, maintaining eye contact for several seconds. Was he flirting with her?

No. Couldn’t be. And she felt silly for thinking it. Tired of always being caught off guard and far from displaying her best game, Lizzie responded a little more stiffly to his teasing than her usual good humor would dictate.

“If I was really worried you were a mass murderer, I would have been a little sneakier…or more likely, not come at all,” she said tartly. She was feeling a little snarky, so she added, “You’d better not ruin my day by actually being a psychopath.”

“Before you accuse me of chewing on the chair leg or being the next Ripper, let’s call a brief truce. Is that okay?” At her nod, he continued. “I’d like to invite you to visit the pack’s headquarters.”

The shift in his attitude toward her seemed to be sticking. Amused, rather than annoyed. Teasing, rather than bullying. She liked this John. Maybe having shared the whole werewolf thing made him more comfortable with her?

As for the goofy wolf comments, she couldn’t seem to help herself. When she was nervous, out came speculative werewolf comments better left to wander around inside her brain. She was allowed to be nervous. He was a werewolf.

Three heartbeats later…Wait a minute—meet the pack? Cool! Maybe dangerous? Hmm. This required a consult with Kenna. Lizzie couldn’t rely completely on her own judgment when making magic-related decisions. With this most recent revelation—werewolves were real, really real—Lizzie vacillated between thinking she was still the relatively rational person she’d always been, and thinking she was just a little bit out of touch with reality. That’s probably what made her pass out. Conflicting versions of reality were colliding and exploding in her brain.

“I need a consult. Be right back!” Lizzie was off to Kenna’s table before he could protest, or worse, make her sign some wolfy confidentiality agreement. She was sure he had one stashed in a back pocket just for her.

Approaching Kenna’s table, she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. Kenna grabbed her bag and her latte, linked arms with her, and headed out the door.

“Emergency consult was needed,” Lizzie said, “and for all I know he has super hearing. I just received an invite….” At this point she looked around checking for any accidental eavesdroppers. Seeing no one loitering near the coffee shop’s entrance, she continued. “I just received an invite to visit the pack’s headquarters. How cool is that! Or is it not cool and very, very dangerous? I can’t decide, so I need some advice.”