Chapter 25

The Hattai looked at me for a moment, studying me, and responded with an “hmm” in the same way Ivan sometimes did. We stared at each other a moment longer, and Mirko snorted again. The man smiled at him, crossing his arms, and leaned against the counter in a more quarrelsome attitude, which somewhat made the little boy next to me angry.

Indeed, Mirko began to growl, low and between his teeth.

That amused the Japanese. He smiled more and commented:

“Son of your father! Don’t worry, we are friends,” he assured him, and although that made Mirko stop growling, the boy did not calm down. “How about I lend you my laptop and you take a look at my games? My son loves wrestling ones, he likes the noise.”

“I don’t like computer games,” Mirko said sharply.

“Okay, but are we at peace, then?”

The man uncrossed his arms and showed him the palms of his hands. He wasn’t much taller than me, and he was also quite thin for a werewolf. Maybe he was Ivan’s age or a c