I had very low tolerance for people who tried to tell me what to do. Curran had even less. He’d lived in a cabin in the woods until he was twelve. Then loups killed his family, and he lived on his own for almost a year, starving in the forest, until Mahon found him. Two years later Curran became the Beast Lord. When he spoke, everyone in the Keep went silent. When he entered a room, all eyes were on him. If he wanted something, it was brought to him with apologies that it took longer than thirty seconds. Living among regular people wasn’t in his frame of reference, and today had done nothing to put him into a charitable frame of mind. The fact that Heather had sprinkled cayenne pepper on her lawn didn’t endear her to him either. Not that he would bite Heather’s head off, but I could see him putting it in his mouth and holding it in there for a bit.

“My turn,” I told him. “You did the last one.”

“Call for backup if you need me.” He got out and went inside. I stepped out and lingered by the car. I could do this. I just had to be cordial and not punch her. Piece of cake.

“Hi,” Heather said, stretching the word. She walked carefully, as if worried I’d bite her.

“Hi!” Kate Daniels, a good neighbor. Would you like some cookies?

“I’m sorry to bother you . . . What is that smell?”

Spider guts. “How can I help you?”

“Umm, the neighbors asked me to bring some issues to your attention.”

I bet they did and she bravely soldiered under that burden. “Shoot.”

“It’s about the mailbox.”

I could see the communal mailbox out of the corner of my eye. It seemed intact.

“You see, the mailman saw your husband during one of his walks.”

“He’s my fiancé,” I told her. “We are living in sin.”

Heather blinked, momentarily knocked off her stride, but recovered. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“It’s very nice. I highly recommend it.”

“As I was saying, he saw your fiancé when he was in his animal shape. How to put it . . . He became alarmed.”

That was generally a normal reaction when encountering Curran for the first time.

“We are not sure if they will deliver mail again.”

“Did you receive any official notices from the post office?”

“No, but . . .” Heather tried a smile. “We were thinking maybe your fiancé could not do that anymore.”

“Do what?” I had a sudden urge to strangle Heather. I was so tired of people acting like Curran was an inhuman spree killer who would murder babies in their sleep.

“Walk around in his animal shape.”

No strangling. Strangling would not be neighborly.

“It would also be nice if he limited the range of his walks.”