Mitchell didn’t like the outside. He hid in his burrow most of the time, and getting him out of it after he ate would be impossible. I had tried before and gotten nowhere. “I’ll take tomorrow then.”

“Good. We’re done here, you are released, shoo, go, scram. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids.”

I started toward the cars.

“Wait,” Luther called.

“Yes?”

He trotted over to me. “Does the city feel different to you?”

“Different how?”

He dragged his hand through his hair. “Something happened in December. Something strange.”

Move along, nothing to see here, no city claiming people are on the premises. “Strange things happen all the time here.”

“No, this was different. It felt like a storm. A magic storm. It rolled through the city and now it feels different. Does it feel different to you?”

Lie, lie, lie. “No.”

Luther searched my face with his gaze. “I’m not crazy.”

No, you’re not. “That’s above my pay grade.”

“It’s like an itch I can’t scratch.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor for that,” Curran said.

Luther pointed his finger at him. “I don’t like you.”

“Bye, Luther.” I grinned.

He walked away. “I will figure it out! I’m not crazy!”

If he ever figured it out, I would have a lot of explaining to do.

•   •   •

“DOES EVERYBODY THINK I am an asshole?” Curran asked.

“Only people who know you or have met you.”

He looked at me for a long second.

“You were a zealous advocate of the Pack’s causes,” I said. “The Pack’s interests are often at odds with human interests. I still love you. Derek still thinks you’re the stuff.”

Derek was kneeling by the scrape on the pavement and inhaling deeply. “Three ghouls. One male and two females. The scent is about fifty hours old, give or take an hour.”

Fifty hours would be just about the time Eduardo would have come to respond to Mrs. Oswald’s phone call on Monday about the wolf griffin.

“Interesting timing,” I said.

“They came here and left along the same trail,” Derek said.

“How long were they here?” Curran asked.

“A few hours.” Derek pointed to a narrow spot between the side of the house and a wooden fence. “They hid there, behind the trash cans.”

Three ghouls just sitting there waiting while the residents of the house left for work. Don’t mind us, we’re just chilling here, behind your trash cans, rubbing our big sharp claws, while your delicious children leave for school. And that wasn’t creepy. No, not at all.

“Why?” I thought out loud. “If they were hiding, there are better places to hide.”

“Mm-hm.” Curran’s face told me he was thinking the same thing. “Bad place to hide but a good place for an ambush.”