"Can I try?" Gus asked hopefully. "If I manage to open it and you don't want it, can I have it? It looks valuable enough to fetch a pretty penny."
"Is money all you can think of?" I wondered. "This is an urn. What if it's full of ashes?"
"Mostly, along with beautiful women that are not you," Gus added impishly. "And ashes can be thrown away.
I rolled my eyes at his mercenary attitude. "Be my guest then," I said, passing the urn to him.
He caught it with one hand, the other still on the steering wheel. He gave it a cursory glance and raised his eyebrow.
"Oh, it's actually an urn." Gus winced, but he still tried to pry open the lid with one hand, with limited success.
I narrowed my eyes; Gus was handling silver very well for a werewolf. Lydia couldn't touch silver without it raising welts on her skin, but Gus was holding this pure silver urn as though it was made of wood.
