Chapter Seventeen
Matt
Three hours later, I’m standing in front of Moonroot Apothecary with Nick. It looks like the fire started around five hours ago and was put out pretty much right away. The fire department had tried to contact the owners but couldn’t reach them.
It’s quite clear that the attempt was to burn the place down. They would have succeeded if we didn’t have an agent staking the place out.
Meena informed us that Dalton’s daughter and her husband didn’t return to their home after they closed up the shop.
With the agent tailing them distracted by the fire, they’re officially in the wind.
We’re still not sure if the fire was just a distraction or if they have something worth hiding inside. Now that the place is quiet, we sneak inside to look for ourselves.
Nick scrunches his nose. “I don’t know how you stand this smell so often. It’s making me dizzy.”
“I guess I’m used to it,” I comment absentmindedly, trying to find something in the black soot and shards of glass covering the shelves and the floor. Besides, it isn’t even that bad in here. The fire couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes.
Then again, it was supposed to destroy the shop, wasn’t it? I closely inspect the shelves, littered with broken bottles.
“Definitely not just a distraction. They wanted to destroy evidence,” I say.
He comes and stands beside me. “Yeah? Why do you think that?”
“I mean, even if we assume everything they sell is highly flammable, the fire still shouldn’t have spread this quickly,” I explain, gesturing at the damage in front of us.
Nick nods. “So, let’s find out what they didn’t want us to find.”
We walk around the perimeter of the shop, flashlights in hand. The only noise is the crunch of glass under our boots.
I scope the shelves again, carefully looking for anything out of place.
“There’s a storeroom back here. I’ll check it out,” Nick says from behind the counter.
I nod, continuing my inspection. I move on to the next set of shelves, right next to a patch of empty wall. I turn the light towards the wall—
There’s a slit. I walk closer, my flashlight trained on the small gap.
It almost appears to be a door. I try pushing it open, but it doesn’t budge.
“Nothing unusual, I think. I’ll still get a warrant— What have you got there?” Nick walks over.
“It’s a locked door,” I tell him, still pushing.
“Of course, it is,” he sighs. “Wait, don’t break it, not until we absolutely have to,” he says, taking out the set of keys he carries everywhere.
“Why didn’t the LAFD check in here?” I complain, already thinking of the lecture the on-duty firefighters will get the next time I see them. Casually, of course. Can’t really tell them I broke into one of the fire scenes. That’ll dampen the effect of the lecture.
The lock clicks, and Nick pushes the door open. I’m immediately bombarded by the sickly sweet smell of flowers and incense.
“Fuuuck!” I damn near shout.
“What?” Nick urgently asks.
“Oliver was here,” I whisper. The smell I got from him when I was too close. When I was trying so hard to figure out what happened to him. The same one that blocked our senses when Nick and I tried to surveil the shop.
What did these people do to my Oliver? Anger floods my veins. My claws snap out, and my eyes sharpen, focused.
A low growl starts from somewhere, and it takes me a second to realize it’s coming from me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nick puts his arms on my chest like he’s trying to rein in a wild animal. Well, he is. “Deep breaths, Matty,” his voice soothing.
I retract my claws. Oliver is safe. He’s back at my home. No one would dare to touch him there. I take those deep breaths.
“What the fuck, dude? You okay?” Nick huffs out, relieved. It’s not an overreaction, considering I don’t lose control. Like ever.
“Oliver came to my apartment, scared out of his mind. He wouldn’t tell me what happened, but he had this smell lingering on him,” I gesture around us.
Nick’s eyes go wide. “You think they told him?”
Fuck, did they?
“Wait, do you smell something else here?” Nick asks, walking to the wall opposite the door.
I follow him. It’s barely a hint, almost impossible to catch over the strong smells of the place. But it’s there, imbued in the walls and the floor.
“Rotten flesh,” I say.
“And the chemicals we got from the other bodies,” Nick adds.
“They were using this place for their sick experiments, too?”
“Dude, we need to get forensics here right now.” Nick is already taking his phone out, making calls.
Oliver was here with those dangerous werewolves. While they were storing bodies here. Just the idea makes me want to light this place like a matchstick again.
But at the bottom of all that boiling anger, there’s a feeling hard to ignore. Fear.
What if something had happened to him? How did he find this place? Why did I not know he was coming here?
In all my attempts to distract him, was I the only one really distracted?
“Do you know where Oliver is right now?” Nick hesitantly asks after he’s disconnected the call.
“He’s at my place,” I reassure him. But I need to check on him right now. In fact, I’m not letting that little menace out of my sight from this day on. Wait, did I just…
I look at Nick, and he’s grinning like we’re not literally standing in a crime scene. “Marcus owes me fifty, too,” he says.
“C’mon, dude!” I groan. “And why is Marcus so sure I couldn’t have seduced Oliver?” Is this what I should be worried about right now? Nope. But the mind wanders.
“Nah, he just thinks you’re too stubborn to actually try and be happy,” Nick assures me.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“At least he doesn’t doubt your sex appeal,” Nick points out.
Fair enough.
“But Oliver’s safe and well, right?”
I nod. “And he might know about us,” I groan.
“You feel whatever you wanna feel about that. I’m happy about this development,” he announces.
“Yeah, well, he might know about the existence of werewolves, but he doesn’t know I am one.”
“You gonna tell him?”
“Of course not!”
“Good god, Matt! You’re annoying,” he groans.
“Anyway, what did Meena say?” I ask, itching to leave. I need to be with Oliver now.
“She’s sending people,” he says, watching me fidget. “Fucking…go!” he waves, and I immediately book it out of there.
I drive like I have a death wish and run up the stairs. I’m in front of my apartment in twenty minutes.
His soft, even breaths and familiar scent immediately calm me down. I breathe a sigh of relief and lean my head against the door. I stand there until our breaths are synchronized, then open the door quietly.
My dramatics don’t need to disturb Oliver’s peaceful sleep. The guy barely gets much of it anyway.
I tiptoe into my bedroom and see his relaxed figure. The dark doesn’t affect my vision of the sweet, small smile on his slightly swollen lips. His mussed curls fan out over the pillow. Those beautiful eyelashes dust his cheeks.
My feet carry me to him without any prompting. I damn near fucking face-plant when I trip on the clothes strewn all over the floor.
I mutter curses and start picking up the clothes. I fold my jeans and our T-shirts. Oliver’s pants are on the other side of the room, but I pick them up like the nice boyfriend I am.
Guy. I mean guy.
I notice a colorful piece of paper almost falling out of his back pocket. A pamphlet, maybe? Since I’m not a snoop, I sternly remind myself, I push it back inside. But a word catches my eye. Superstrength.
Yeah, this needs some serious snooping. I immediately pull the pamphlet out.
My eyes bulge out of my head as I read the words. I rush out of the room, switch on the living room light, and take a picture of it. I send the photo to Nick, then forward it to the WRB chat, the one with the higher-ups.
I just figured out how these people found volunteers for their sick experiments.
Now, how did Oliver find it? That’s an answer I’ll need to wiggle out without causing suspicion.
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