“Not much for tech, is she?” I asked. Jeff offered the arrogant grunt of an IT whiz kid. “Not even slightly. And she’s stealing wireless from her neighbors. But that’s neither here nor there.” Damien stepped forward. “Did you find anything that is here or there?” “As a matter of fact,” he said, typing with the heavy, plastic clack of ancient keys, “I did.” He pulled up a browser window that showed the pixelated image of a receipt—for a flight to Anchorage that had left at eight o’clock this morning. My brows lifted in surprise. I hadn’t actually expected him to find evidence Aline had skipped town. She seemed the naive and complaining sort, the type to gripe about irritations but not actually attempt to fix them. I looked back at Jeff. “I presume you fly into Anchorage if you’re going to Aurora?” The North American Packs’ ancestral home was in Aurora, Alaska.
What do You think about Wild Things: A Chicagolands Vampire Novel (Chicagoland Vampires)?
