The Case of The Wicked Wolf by Amber Kell and RJ Scott
Now released in one volume with The Case of the Cupid Curse.
Naiads, humans, sirens and a challenge for Alpha make up the intricate story in the race to rescue the missing children.
Sam and Bob have more than just the case of one lost child to handle. Not only is Shelby Hartman missing, but other paranormal children have disappeared. The race to rescue the children is hampered by naiads, humans, sirens and a challenge for Alpha.
Hartman Hunter is desperate to find his daughter. He turns to the demon Danjal Naamah for help. The problem is that Danjal is the only person Hartman has ever loved—the man he let go for the sake of the pack…
Sam Enderson sat back in his desk chair and looked at his notes with annoyance. The strip of ribbon Hunter had sent him sat in the corner. As long as he didn’t touch it he couldn’t hear the girl crying. Despite what Bob said he knew it was the missing werewolf girl. Who else would be crying out in pain? Unless the abductor who sent the ribbon knew Hunter’s daughter Shelby had vanished and was taking advantage of that fact. The only thing that made Sam question his judgement was Bob’s statement that he didn’t sense any shifter scent on the ribbon.
"It’s a puzzle."
"Yes it is," Sam replied to Smudge, the black cat familiar, curled on the pillow beside his chair.
Smudge flicked his long tail as he groomed his black fur in long, languid strokes. When he spread his legs to lick his privates Sam turned away. "Can’t you do that elsewhere?"
"You’re just jealous because I’m bendy." Smudge taunted.
Searching for a distraction he turned his attention back to his sparse notes. Nothing made sense. Where had Shelby gone? Bob had talked to his contacts and the witch was still complaining to everyone she could find that Sam hadn’t lived up to his uncle’s promise. Since word had also travelled that she’d cursed Sam and he’d recovered the missing fae, his name was beginning to become rather well known among people he’d rather avoid.
Sam wished he could interrogate the werewolves and especially, Constance, Shelby’s ex-wife. From the little Hartman told Sam about her she seemed a prime suspect. Hartman kept insisting none of the shifters would do that to a little girl but Sam had his doubts. Shelby’s mother had two sons from a previous marriage both old enough to challenge for Alpha. Even Hartman admitted she was power hungry. What better way to bring down the Alpha than to crush his spirit? Even if Hartman denied his pack had anything to do with Shelby’s disappearance Sam noticed the Alpha didn’t ask for his pack’s help in locating his lost girl.
He sighed as he looked at the miniscule amount of information he had to work with. If the case hadn’t involved a little girl Sam would’ve passed on it, however, he couldn’t refuse to help out an obviously broken-hearted person even if he was a werewolf.
Unfortunately this new job didn’t do anything to help foster a good reputation among the human population. So far paranormals were the only ones interested in Sam’s services.
A knock on the door drew Sam’s attention away from his futile endeavour.
"Yes?" Sam called out.
A large hulking man with hair popping out of every visible crevice stomped into Sam’s office. He wore a surprisingly stylish suit but Sam figured if you were that large everything was probably custom made.
"Are you Sam Enderson?" he asked in a voice so deep Sam thought he felt the floor vibrate beneath his chair.
"Yes." Sam stood up to greet his guest. The man-creature-being whatever the hell it was towered over him even when standing. Sam’s confidence raised a few notches when he realised he could probably flee the building before the visitor reached him. "Can I help you with something?"
Smudge hissed from his perch.
Sam had never met a troll before. Fascinated, he watched his visitor with open curiosity. He hadn’t known trolls ever left their bridges. Of course what he knew about trolls could be stuffed in a brownie’s pocket.
"I need something removed." The troll spoke in slow drawn out syllables as if each word had to be dredged from his soul.