Page 49 of Finding His Fox

“Will you tell Nate?” Owen finally asked.

“I don’t know yet. Probably,” I admitted. “Nate has a right to know.”

“Good decision. My advice? Pay the magic store a visit and get a protective charm or two that Nate can wear,” Owen said.

As Owen drove away with John in tow, I realized Owen’s advice made complete sense.

I learned all I could about my ancient enemy years ago, just in case a time came when I would have to face it again.

Wendigos were vengeful creatures, and they could hold a grudge for a very long time.

Absolute certainty filled me that it was the same one that attacked Nate, Shawn and me when we were kids.

I only caught a brief glimpse of it in the trees, but I was sure it was missing an eye.

An eye Nate managed to take out. The wendigo didn’t return to Fox Haven by accident. It was here for Nate and me.

* * *

Cal: Are you busy tonight?

Nate: Why? (Depending on your answer, I might say yes or no.)

Cal: So you need an incentive to come by?

Nate: Convince me.

I paused, debating what else to tell Nate. Before he came along, I only used my cellphone to read important messages from Owen and my pack mates or make important calls.

Now, I was actually using this tiny infernal device more often. If I told my past self I would be flirting and texting with another guy in the future, my past self would’ve scoffed.

Nate: Just kidding. I’ll drop by your cabin later. What time?

Cal: Any time is fine. I’ll be home by 6 pm. If you’re staying for dinner, I can whip something up quickly.

Nate: Callahan Yates, are you asking me out on a dinner date?

Cal: I sure am.

Nate: Perfect. Then I’ll bring dessert. See you soon.

I tucked my cellphone in my pocket and entered the gaudy looking souvenir store.

The display window featured an assortment of tacky shirts, keychains and other paraphernalia tourists liked.

The bell above the entrance jingled, announcing my presence. Fox Haven’s paranormal residents knew the shop was a front.

In reality, the proprietor of the store kept the real merchandise in the back.

I walked past a box declaring keychains and stickers were 50% off this week. The shop owner, Oliver McGowan, spotted me and waved me over the counter.

The pack was one of Oliver’s frequent customers, so he recognized me on sight.

In the back of the store were shelves upon shelves of enchanted artifacts, spell books and even mystical ingredients. The variety Oliver had on display was almost dizzying.

“Welcome, Cal. How may I be of service to the Fox Haven pack today?” Oliver asked me with a smile.

“I’m not here on the pack’s behalf,” I quickly said. “I’m here because of a more personal issue.”