Wolf Hunted, стр. 38

I shrugged. I didn’t pay attention to the world’s mega-corporations.

Ed pulled out his notebook again. “It sounded nefarious.”

I was about to agree when headlights swept through the remaining morning shadows. Everyone looked at the driveway—Ed, me, Axlam, and the crew—as a black Tesla whine-hummed its way toward the Admin Complex buildings.

Sal called out from my truck as if all the annoyance she felt about the hidden magic she’d been sensing since her awakening made her extra excited in a sort of itching-to-fight kind of way.

“That’s the Tesla I saw last night,” I said to Ed.

Axlam glanced at me as if she, too, felt Sal’s call. “Stay here,” she said to the crew, who were now halfway to the Admin Building entrance, and walked back toward me. “That’s new,” she said.

I moved closer so the crew wouldn’t hear me. “No protection spells or extra magic.” I peered at the Tesla as it slowly crept forward, moving in small, semi-halting rolls. Its nose turned toward the main Admin building, then the vehicle backed up slightly as if the driver was putting considerable thought into how best to park in the middle of a row of spaces so as to cover not two, but a full four.

Ed’s lip twitched. He pointed at the camera crew. “You three. Go inside.”

The sound guy immediately started for the door. “We only dealt with him via email,” he called.

The reporter, Scotty, did not look happy about his sound guy talking to Ed.

“Go on,” Ed said.

The crew quickly made their way inside.

Ed snapped a photo of the Tesla’s plate, waited a second for the little beep indicating that the photos had been texted to someone, then tucked away his phone. “The desk will run the plate,” he said.

Sunlight danced over the car’s exterior, and even though it made me squint, it also pushed enough light through the blackout windows for me to see movement inside the vehicle. “He just dialed his phone,” I said.

Axlam stared at the car. “What do you see, Frank?” she asked.

“With the sun, only an expensive paint job.” No shadows, though apparently her magic sensed something. Her wolf had almost solidified around her body.

“I’m surprised he’s not asking us to pose for selfies.” Ed placed his hand on his unsnapped service weapon and walked toward the Tesla. “You know, for local color.”

Inside the Tesla, the driver held his phone to his ear. He gestured with his free hand, then laughed.

He could just be a rich kid who was clueless about how the non-Tesla-and-yacht contingent of the world lived. Or he could be playing power games.

The driver continued to speak into his phone and, so far at least, wasn’t moving around in a way that indicated he had a weapon.

“Ed,” I said, just in case. I’d survive getting shot. Ed, probably not.

He stopped at the rear of the vehicle, but didn’t look at me. He continued to watch the car.

I walked toward the passenger window and tapped the glass. The window rolled down.

“Frank Victorsson.” I recognized the voice. Our interloper had returned.