EVERY CREVICE, NOOK and corner of the house held no scent other than the one I carried upon my body. Neither the dinner, nor any of the people occupying the house, reached my senses. And I would have been able to pick them up—if not for the potion excessively splashed about myself.
One step into the dining room told me my efforts had been worth it, though. The noses of the pack all turned to me like a Mexican wave at a rock gig. Within a second, their nostrils switched from twitching to full-out flaring, as though overcome by the need to get more.
Grinning, I lifted my sights to the five witches. From them, my attention circled the seating arrangement—Josh, at my end of the table, Sean to his left, Nathan, Ethan, Heather, and Stephanie who leaned back as though in a bid to remain conceal
