2. Rudy
Rudy
T he witch refused to be intimidated—I had to give her that.
Most people cowered when confronted by a wolf my size. This one? She'd threatened me with a book on medieval medicine. Now she stormed around her aunt's shop like I was the intruder, picking up fallen volumes and returning them to shelves with movements that couldn't quite hide the tremor in her hands.
And damned if I didn't find myself following her.
"Stop hovering," she muttered, crouching to gather fallen books. Her scent drifted toward me—lavender and old paper mixed with something electric that made my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin. "If you're not going to help clean up, you can leave."
I should leave. I had leads to follow, evidence to track. The witch disappearances formed a pattern that stretched beyond Midnight Creek, and time was running short. But something held me here, watching her slender fingers trace the spines of damaged books with such care, her dark hair falling forward to shield her face. Something beyond the investigation.
"Who exactly are you?" I asked, ignoring her dismissal. "This is Rose's store."
She paused, a leather-bound grimoire held protectively against her chest. When she turned, those intelligent eyes examined me through her glasses, assessing and unimpressed.
"I told you, I'm her niece, Elowen," she said, as if explaining something to a particularly slow child. "Besides, you still haven't explained who you are and why you’re here."
I bit back a snarl at her tone, watching as she returned the grimoire to its shelf with practiced precision. Her movements were efficient, professional—but I could smell the worry beneath her composed exterior.
The truth was tangled up with my old pack, with blood magic corruption I'd been tracking for years – with my father's murder and my solitary mission since. Sharing that with a witch I'd just met wasn't my style. But those sky blue eyes behind her glasses held steady, demanding answers I wasn't ready to give.
"Rudy Kane," I finally offered, my name a reluctant concession. "I'm a private investigator. Supernatural cases." I reached for a fallen book, its binding cracked. "Rose's disappearance fits a pattern I've been tracking."
"What pattern?" The professional demeanor cracked slightly, hope and suspicion warring in her expression. "Do you know what happened to her?"
I didn't answer immediately. The truth was that Rose had practically engineered my arrival in Midnight Creek, leaving breadcrumb trails of evidence that led straight to her store. She'd offered the apartment at a suspiciously low rent, asking pointed questions about my investigation. The witch had been mapping blood magic corruption long before I arrived.
Instead, I lifted the grimoire Elowen had been reaching for, noting traces of foreign magic on its spine—tainted and wrong. "Someone went through these systematically. See this discoloration? Blood magic residue."
Her eyes narrowed as she examined the book. "Blood magic? Here in Midnight Creek?"
"It's been spreading." I kept my voice neutral despite the old rage rising. "Three witches disappeared from Shadow Valley last month. Similar traces were left behind."
"And you think that's connected to Rose?" She crossed her arms, studying me with sharp focus. "Why are you investigating witch disappearances?"
Because I'd seen what blood magic did to my father's pack. Because Rose had been close to exposing the corruption I'd tracked for years.
"It's my job." I glanced at the darkening windows. A pack enforcer passed by, watching too closely. "Look, this isn't the best place to discuss details. The Silver Flask has private booths with old protection spells. We can talk more there."
She hesitated, looking around at the mess of books and papers. "I need to secure the store first. Rose would never forgive me if anything happened to her collection."
I nodded. "I'll help. Faster with two."
For the next hour, we worked in focused silence, reorganizing books and fixing display cases. My wolf noticed things—how she didn't flinch when our hands brushed, reaching for the same text. How her scent shifted subtly when I moved closer, a sweetening that suggested awareness beyond professional courtesy.
More interesting was her magic—unpredictable, powerful in bursts then hesitant. Nothing like the steady control witches typically cultivated. When she murmured protection spells to strengthen the wards, power sparked around her fingers like lightning seeking ground, illuminating her face with violet light. Beautiful and dangerous.
"There." She stepped back, surveying our work. "That should hold for now."
The autumn evening had fully settled outside. I shrugged off my jacket, catching her slight shiver as the store's heating struggled against the mountain chill. "Here. It's cold out."
Her laugh surprised me—warm and genuine despite the circumstances. "I know the Silver Flask is wild, but there's no way they're letting you in without a shirt no matter how cute you are." She pushed the jacket back at me, though a slight redness crossed her cheeks.
My wolf huffed in pleasure. She thought we were cute . I mentally shook myself. Not the time.
"Besides, I have magic," she said, whispering a few words that made the air around her warm. The spell wobbled slightly before settling, and I caught a flash of frustration in her eyes, quickly masked. Interesting—the witch had control issues with her magic. "Lead the way, Mr. Private Investigator. Let's see what you know about my aunt's disappearance."
My wolf wanted to move closer, to guard against the darkness gathering outside. I held that instinct in check, maintaining distance as we headed for the door. This wasn't about attraction or protection. This was about finding Rose and stopping whatever corruption was spreading through the supernatural community.
But watching Elowen secure the final wards, power crackling around her like contained lightning, I had a feeling things were about to get complicated. She wasn't what I'd expected when I came to investigate tonight. Something told me she was going to challenge every boundary I'd carefully maintained since going lone wolf.
For now, though, we had a mystery to solve. I gestured toward the Silver Flask's glowing windows down the street. "After you." Professional. Distant. Safe.
My wolf disagreed, but I ignored it. One step at a time.
***
The Silver Flask hummed with subdued energy, the usual raucous supernatural crowd muted by recent tensions. The carved protection spells along the doorframe recognized us both, flaring briefly as we entered. Inside, species segregation was immediately obvious—witches clustered near the hearth, werewolves claiming the bar, fae keeping to shadowed corners. Nothing like the integrated crowd I'd seen when first arriving in Midnight Creek.
"Wow," Elowen murmured. "It's worse than I thought."
The bartender nodded to me, then did a double-take at Elowen. "Rose's niece," he said, surprise evident. "Haven't seen you since—"
"Since I was home for the equinox," she finished, her tone casual though I caught the tension beneath it. "Has my aunt been in recently?"
The bartender's expression closed immediately. "Haven't seen Rose in weeks." His eyes darted to the pack members at the end of the bar. "Your usual booth is open, Kane."
I guided Elowen toward a corner booth with ancient runes carved into its wooden frame. The moment we sat down, the ambient noise dimmed—one of the Flask's unique features, private booths that actually stayed private.
"You have a usual booth." Elowen raised an eyebrow, settling across from me. The low lighting caught in her dark hair, highlighting auburn undertones. "How long have you been in Midnight Creek?"
"Six months." I signaled for drinks. "Moved here tracking the blood magic cases."
"And you just happened to move in next door to my aunt's shop?" Her skepticism was palpable.
I shrugged. "Best vantage point to watch the town's magical hub."
"Convenient." She leaned forward, and I caught a stronger whiff of that sweet scent that made my wolf stir. "So what exactly do you know about my aunt's disappearance that you're not telling me?"
Directness. I could respect that. "Rose was investigating the same blood magic corruption I've been tracking."
Elowen's eyes narrowed. "And you know this how?"
"We... compared notes." Which was putting it mildly. Rose had practically strong-armed me into sharing my research once she realized we were investigating the same pattern. "Your aunt is formidable."
The ghost of a smile touched her lips. "You have no idea." She twisted her glass, studying the liquid as if it held answers. "What exactly is this blood magic doing? And why target witches?"
Before I could answer, a shadow fell across our table. Lola set down two drinks with practiced ease, arching an eyebrow at me before turning her sharp gaze on Elowen. "Didn’t expect to see you sharing a booth, Kane. New business partner?"
Elowen glanced between us, curiosity sparking. "Something like that. And you are?"
"Lola," I answered before she could. "She works with me—keeps an ear to the ground for anything useful."
Lola gave me a dry look. "More like I try to keep you from getting yourself killed. Midnight Creek’s politics are a minefield right now."
"So I’ve noticed," Elowen murmured, wrapping her fingers around her glass. "You hear anything about Rose?"
Lola sighed, crossing her arms. "Not directly. But something’s been shifting. The pack’s been more aggressive lately—Curtis, in particular, has been sniffing around places he never used to care about."
That got my attention. Curtis had always been ambitious, but if he was pushing beyond his usual reach, that meant trouble. "How aggressive?"
"Like he’s not entirely himself anymore." Lola’s lips pressed together in a thin line. "Blood magic doesn’t just make people stronger—it makes them... different. Twists their instincts. Curtis was here last night, watching. And if he saw you two together, word’s already spreading."
Elowen absorbed that in silence, her grip tightening around her glass. "You think the pack had something to do with my aunt’s disappearance?"
"I think they’re involved in something bigger than just pack politics," Lola said carefully. "And whatever Rose was looking into? It made her a target."
Elowen’s magic flickered at the edges of my senses—controlled, but simmering beneath her skin. "Then we need to find out what she knew."
Lola nodded, then leaned against the table, fixing me with a pointed look. "And you? You sure you want to drag her into this, Kane? Blood magic corruption doesn’t just disappear. Once it takes root, it spreads."
Elowen answered before I could. "I'm already in it. Rose is my family. I’m not backing down."
Lola studied her for a long moment, then let out a small, approving huff. "Good. Just don’t get yourselves killed before you figure this out. I like my informants breathing."
She straightened, giving me one last meaningful glance before disappearing back toward the bar. I watched her go, then turned back to Elowen.
"Blood magic takes natural inclinations and corrupts them," I said, returning to her earlier question. "Loyalty becomes blind obedience. Protection becomes possession. I've seen it firsthand—watched pack members I'd grown up with transform from family into fanatics."
Elowen’s expression darkened. "Then we have to stop it."
I nodded. "Yeah. We do."
A commotion at the bar interrupted us. A young wolf—barely past his first shift by the look of him—had backed a witch into the corner. I recognized him as one of the local alpha's newer recruits, his eyes tinged with the faint redness that signaled early blood magic influence.
"You witches think you're so special with your fancy college and your books," he snarled, eyes flickering with that unnatural reddish tint. "Maybe it's time someone showed you—"
I was moving before conscious thought, my hand closing around the young wolf's wrist. "Enough." My voice dropped to the alpha register that made subordinate wolves instinctively submit.
The young wolf's eyes widened, his head tilting slightly before he caught himself. "You're not pack," he spat. "You don't command me, lone wolf."
"He doesn't," came Elowen's voice from behind me, steady and calm. "But I imagine the Silver Flask's neutrality wards do." She nodded toward the ceiling where ancient runes glowed warning. "Unless you want to find out what happens when you break them?"
The young wolf hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. He looked at me, then at Elowen, nostrils flaring as he caught our combined scents.
"A witch and a lone wolf," he sneered, though he backed away. "How fitting. Both betraying your own kind." His gaze shifted to me. "The alpha knows you're interfering. He says to remind you what happened to your father."
My claws threatened to emerge. The young wolf smirked before backing toward the door, the witch he'd cornered already forgotten.
"Well," Elowen said as we returned to our booth, the privacy wards reactivating. "That was informative."
"How so?" I struggled to push back the rage the wolf's words had triggered.
"He confirmed the alpha knows about your investigation." Her eyes met mine, sharp and assessing. "And that something happened to your father. Something they think will scare you off."
I didn't answer immediately. My father's murder wasn't something I discussed—not with anyone. But those intelligent eyes held mine, waiting with unexpected patience.
"It won't," I finally said. "Scare me off."
She nodded, accepting the non-answer. "Good. Because if my aunt is involved with this blood magic corruption, we need to find her before they do whatever they did to your father."
We. The word hung between us, presumptuous and strangely right. I should refuse. I worked alone for good reasons. Getting close to others—especially a witch with unpredictable magic and eyes that saw too much—was dangerous. For both of us.
"This isn't your fight," I said, the words automatic but lacking conviction.
"My aunt. My fight." She leaned forward. "And based on what just happened, you could use someone watching your back. Someone they won't expect you to work with."
The logic was sound, even if every instinct warned against partnership. I studied her—the professional exterior that couldn't quite hide the fierce protectiveness beneath. Rose had mentioned her niece's powerful but untamed magic, how she'd left to escape the pressure of Midnight Creek's expectations. I hadn't expected the steel beneath the bookish appearance, or how much it would appeal to both man and wolf.
"Fine," I conceded, ignoring my wolf's pleased rumble. "But we do this carefully. These people are dangerous."
"I gathered that from the dramatic threats and glowing red eyes." Her sarcasm couldn't quite hide her relief at my agreement. "So where do we start?"
"Rose's research. The cave storage behind the bookstore." I lowered my voice further. "She kept her most dangerous findings there."
"How do you know about the cave storage?" Suspicion crept back into her tone.
"Your aunt showed me." Which wasn't entirely a lie. Rose had shown me the storage after I'd already found it on my own. The witch had been calculating, deliberate in what information she shared. As if setting pieces on a game board only she could see completely. "It's where we compared notes on the blood magic cases."
Elowen nodded slowly. "Then that's where we'll start. Tonight. We can't waste time."
"Hold on," I countered. "We’ll be more effective if we take a few hours to prepare. I’ll get and organize my notes, and you can check her letters, her calendar—there might be something there that changes our approach. And if we go in blind, we could miss something important."
She hesitated, frustration clear in the tight set of her jaw. "I don’t like waiting."
"I know," I said, keeping my voice steady. "But rushing in without all the information or sleep won’t help your aunt."
Her shoulders dropped slightly, tension giving way to reluctant agreement. "Fine. First thing in the morning."
I tossed back my drink. "I'll meet you at the bookstore at eight."
As I watched her walk back toward the bookstore, her posture straight despite the worry I knew she carried, something shifted inside me. My wolf recognized it before I did—the beginnings of respect. Of interest. Of something more dangerous than either.
Tomorrow we'd search for answers in Rose's hidden research. Tonight, I'd try to ignore how Elowen's scent lingered on my jacket, or how my wolf kept replaying the moment she'd stood beside me against the young pack member.
I had a feeling nothing would be the same after this. For better or worse, Rose's niece had just become part of my investigation. Part of my carefully isolated existence.
And my wolf didn't mind at all.