A TOUCH OF HARRY
 
By Susan Sizemore
 
 
 
 
 
Dedication
 
For Matthew Krause, who
 
introduced me to Mission Wolf.
 
 
Chapter 1
 
"Was that a coyote?"
"Coyotes don't come in black," Marj Piper answered the man in the seat beside her, as the ghostly dark form disappeared from the blaze of her headlights. "That thing is fast!"
She followed the creature's movements across the moonlit Arizona desert before darkness completely swallowed it. It was some kind of dog; its outline was beautiful and sleek.
"Marj! Look out!"
She swung her gaze forward, just in time to slam on the brakes as another large animal raced in front of her truck.
This creature was as black as the first, but much larger and more muscular, with denser fur. As the animal gave a quick glance toward the headlights, its eyes glowed with a blue sheen. It bared its fangs in a snarl, then bounded away, following the other animal almost faster than the eye could see.
"That's a wolf!" Patrick shouted.
"Yeah," she agreed, her heart hammering in her chest. "That was a wolf."
In the backseat of the cab, her chocolate Lab, Taffy, lifted his head and whimpered his agreement.
Marj drove the truck at a near crawl as the hard-packed dirt road ascended a steep, curving hill. The first animal had been terrified. The wolf had been furious. And it had looked at her, almost in outrage, as if it was demanding that she help.
Help with what?
Pat touched her arm. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
Reverend Patrick Muller was new to Kennedyville, and Marj was giving him a ride home from a dinner party where friends had tried to hook them up. She supposed Alice meant well in trying to draw her out of the shell she'd been in since her father died. She wasn't sure she really appreciated it, though.
The one person who'd understood her was gone, and it would take a miracle to cure the loneliness that had closed in when he was gone. Still, because Alice had accused her of trying to be a Scrooge and ignore the Christmas season, she had made the effort to be sociable through dinner at Alice's house. It had drained her incredibly, and she was glad to be heading home.
Reverend Pat was nice; he'd made intelligent conversation over dinner, even persuaded her to participate in a charity function at the high school in a couple of days. And he wasn't at all bad-looking. No doubt he was going to be an asset to the community.
As agreeable as he was, though, she certainly wasn't going to tell him about her "special" ability.
When she was a kid, she'd assumed everybody could do it. It had taken her painful years to realize that it was anything but normal, and to learn to control it. It had taken even more years to learn how to hide it from the rest of the world. Most of the time.
"I can't believe I almost hit a couple of animals," she told Pat, after she'd been silent maybe a little too long.
"They ran in front of the truck. It wouldn't have been your fault," he said comfortingly.
"But the animals would still be dead." The truck was laboring up the steep rise, and she put her foot on the gas.
"And we could have been injured, as well. Even as large as this truck is, hitting something as big as that wolf could have caused a lot of damage."
They rounded the curve and reached the top of the hill, and all hell broke loose.
There was a big white van parked sideways across the road, its headlights shining out onto the landscape. A pair of men stood in front of the van. One held a rifle up to his shoulder and fired twice, just as the second man saw Marj's truck.
She slammed on the brakes and came to a stop inches from the van, just as a wave of pain hit Marj in the back.
NO! Run! Save yourself!
Her spine arched, and dizziness shot through her, even as the wolf's voice inside her head faded.
She might have fallen forward, unconscious across the steering wheel, if Patrick hadn't grabbed her by the arm and shook her. She heard his concerned voice. She couldn't respond to it, but she did react to Taffy's barking in her ear and the nudge of his wet nose on the back of her neck.
That was her, all right. She didn't respond much to people, but animals…
There were animals in trouble out there. One was terrified, the other was hurt.
Can't move. Getting dark.
Marj knew she had to do something, but for a moment she had no idea where she was.
As she looked up, the second man grabbed the shooter by the arm. He shouted something, and pointed at them. The man with the weapon whirled around, the rifle still poised on his shoulder.
For a second, she thought she was going to be shot again. Again?
But the other man grabbed the shooter's arm and pushed him toward the van's open sliding door. The second man got into the driver's seat and barely took the time to slam the door before he roared off up the road.
Marj was out of the truck before the van's taillights disappeared around the next curve. Taffy jumped out after her. It was a few seconds before Pat Muller followed. She was pacing along the rocky edge of the road by the time he reached her, Taffy trotting beside her, his nose to the ground.
"What are you doing?" Pat asked. "I don't think it's safe to be out here." He plucked at the sleeve of her shearling jacket. "That man was shooting at something."
"Not us," she answered.
"What if they come back?"
Marj stared off into the cold, clear December night. "There's something out there."
Pat peered into the darkness, then looked worriedly at her. "What?"
"Whatever he was shooting at."
He'd hit it, too. She'd felt it; more than felt it, for a moment. She'd been the animal. Its thoughts had been hers. The awareness had been so strong that, for the first time in her life, the emotions and images she normally picked up had been experienced as words. Words from a —
"The wolf!" Pat exclaimed. "He must have been shooting at the wolf."
"Yeah."
Pat rubbed his jaw. "Maybe they were trying to shoot it as a protective measure. It wouldn't be good for a wolf to be running loose in the desert."
"Why not? There used to be Mexican red wolves running around here all the time." She glared at him. "Until we humans came along and hunted them to extinction in the wild."
Pat backed a step. "Yes, but — you saw that animal. It was huge! It would be irresponsible to allow that thing to run loose."
"Yes, it would," she agreed. "That's why I'm looking for it."
"You?" He sounded horrified, and looked around anxiously. "Marj, I think we better get back in the truck." He took a cell phone out of his jacket. "We should call animal control."
"I am animal control in this neck of the woods," she told him.
"You're a vet, and you run a shelter, but you're no match for a wolf."
"An injured or dead wolf."
"What if they didn't hit it?"
The wolf had been hit. She couldn't tell Pat how she knew because she was aware of just how crazy it would sound.
"Why did they run off when they saw us?" she countered. "What were they up to?"
"I better call the sheriff."
"Don't bother trying. Your cell won't work out here."
She had to find the wolf; it needed her. But where to start? She couldn't feel it any longer. She prayed that it wasn't dead.
A lot of desert stretched below, where the hill fell into a wide valley. Even with the moon nearly full, she could barely make out nearby scrub brush and the silhouettes of boulders and a few cacti. Mountains loomed dark on the skyline in the distance. There was a lot of ground to cover.
Injured or dead, she needed to find it. But how?
Taffy began to bark. Startled, Marj jerked around and saw that he'd moved downhill. His stance was stiff and tense, and he was barking at a shadow lurking deeper in the shadows.
Out of long practice, Marj set her own emotions aside and concentrated. Though she couldn't make out the shape of the creature cowering in the darkness, she recognized the animal's fear.
"Poor thing," she murmured.
Pat looked wildly around. "What?"
"Shh. Stay here," Marj whispered, and moved cautiously forward.
She put a hand on Taffy's head when she reached him, silencing him instantly. The big dog sat, and stayed alert but still while she moved forward. Within a few steps, she made out the shape of the first animal that had crossed her path earlier. More importantly, she reached its mind with her own questing feelings.
She absorbed the fear and sent out calm. When the urge to run tried to take over her limbs, she suppressed it and managed to keep the animal from bolting in renewed panic. She went down on one knee and held a hand out toward the dark shape. She sensed that the animal was a dog, but one that wasn't that used to people. Domesticated, but not a pet?
"It's okay," she murmured. "You can come to me."
The dog whined piteously and bunched its muscles to run, the one thing it really knew how to do.
Marj tugged it toward her with a mental command, and reinforced her will with a stern, "Come."
The dog slinked closer, and she saw that it was a long, lean greyhound. It was as dark as the night, her coat black satin in the moonlight. Her sides were heaving with fear and exertion, but she let herself be touched.
She was worried, very, very worried; maybe even more worried than she was afraid.
Marj rubbed the greyhound's head, caressed its soft ears, and concentrated on finding out what troubled the animal. "You want me to help, don't you?"
She sent out a gentle mental probe, and was soon flooded with images and sensations.
After a few seconds the dog bounded off. Marj surged to her feet, knowing that the dog knew exactly where to look.
As she turned to follow the greyhound, she ran into Pat. He reached out to steady her, but Marj dodged around him and raced downhill after the dog, Taffy loping at her side.
After a few seconds, she heard Pat working his way through the brush behind her. "Where are we going?" he called.
She couldn't answer and still concentrate on following the greyhound's mental trail. Fortunately, she didn't have far to go down the hillside before she literally stumbled onto the wolf.
She tripped and landed on a big body; hard muscle covered with thick, soft fur. She rolled off the prone animal as quickly as she could and knelt beside it. The dogs kept their distance. Taffy barked, not liking the smell of the wolf and unhappy at her being so close to it. The greyhound settled down on the ground to rest, exuding satisfaction in having performed its duty, along with continued nervousness.
Marj sat back on her heels, took a deep breath, and closed the barriers of her mind to the dogs. Now she had to concentrate on the wolf.
"Is it dead?" Pat asked, coming up behind her.
"No." She knew that in her bones. She ran her hands expertly over the big, warm body, probing through the heavy fur for signs of injury. "Ah," she said, when she found what she was looking for.
"It has been shot, hasn't it?"
"Yep." She tugged one of a pair of darts out of the wolf's back. "Tranquilized. He's not dead, but he is sound asleep."
"Good. That's one huge, dangerous animal."
There was nothing wrong with being dangerous if it was part of your nature.
She patted the sleeping wolf on the head. "He's not dangerous now. Isn't he beautiful?"
"What are you going to do with him?"
"Take him home." She was glad that it wasn't too far to her truck. "Fortunately, my biggest kennel cage is still in the back of the truck. Come on, Pat — help me carry this big boy up the hill."
 
 
Chapter 2
 
Harry supposed he was dreaming. Either that, or the mattress truly was stuffed with cedar shavings. The aroma overwhelmed his sensitive nose, but wouldn't have been nauseating if not for the hangover of monumental proportions.
He couldn't remember feeling like this since college. He'd been smart enough never to get drunk since then; it wasn't healthy for the rest of the world when his kind lost control.
In fact, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten this way. Had he been drinking? He'd been feeling lonely, especially at having to be away from home so close to Christmas. He had gone into the only bar in the one-horse town to check out the locals, but… ?
He groaned. This wasn't just a headache. He had aching, strained muscles, and he was cold. He was naked, yes, that was it, and the room wasn't heated. He was naked, facedown on a thin mattress that smelled of cedar.
At least there wasn't a woman in the bed beside him, so whatever he'd done —
But there had been a woman.
An image of wide eyes in a heart-shaped face flashed across his memory. A small woman behind the steering wheel of a big truck.
And he was naked because… ?
He'd been in wolf form, he remembered now. He remembered being changed, and sensing the woman through his werewolf senses.
And there'd been a dog, right? The poor thing had been in trouble.
Okay, yeah, now he remembered. He'd been out for a four-legged roam after being in town. Intending to get to know the territory, he'd come across this dog being chased by a pair of guys who didn't smell right. The dog hadn't felt any connection to them but fear. So Rin Tin Tin had come to the rescue, getting between the dog and the men.
Then he'd gotten shot? Harry remembered the impact, but felt no pain. Drugs, then. He'd gotten all woozy, and the last thing he'd done was think something at the dog like, Go get help, Lassie.
And maybe that was just what the fool critter had done.
Despite the drug hangover, Harry lifted his head and took a deep breath. Without the aroma of cedar masking other scents, he could make out animals, medicines, cleaning fluids, and disinfectants. It smelled like a vet's office. He'd been in wolf form, and the dog had gotten the woman to bring him somewhere safe. Now he'd morphed back to human. When he took his attention off the headache, he became aware of the deep ache in his limbs, spine, and ribs. It was much easier on the body when the change was under conscious control.
He opened his eyes and saw that he was surrounded by a metal cage.
"Oh, good God," Harry muttered.
It was a good thing the wolf had been asleep when he was captured. Even now, anger roared through him at the bars between himself and freedom. But he was in man form, and a man thought — even with a headache from hell.
And what did the man think? That he was on a case, and didn't want complications and questions that might interfere with his work. Or, worse, threaten his carefully guarded secret.
He reached out and touched the cold metal, fighting the urge to mindlessly shake and tear at the bars. While his animal part swore vengeance on whoever had done this to him, he looked around, found the cage door, and the simple latch that kept it closed.
Harry laughed.
Though his inner wolf was having a hissy fit, he was only being held in a kennel box, though thankfully a big one. He supposed he was lucky he wasn't wearing a flea collar.
He flexed his fingers. "The man thinks that he has thumbs, and getting out of here isn't going to be a problem."
Except that he heard footsteps approaching.
He was still too groggy to make the change back to wolf quickly. He fell facedown onto the cage floor, pretending to still be out, and thought, Go away, go away, go away.
That and, You really don't want see a naked man's backside. Or at least be polite enough not to look.
Marj's steps slowed as she approached the back door of the building. There was a voice in her head warning her to go away. The sensation wasn't frightening, but it was very compelling. It took some doing, but she brushed the strange impulse aside, not about to ignore the needs of an injured creature.
She'd spent much of the night tending to the greyhound. Its injures hadn't been accidental. The poor thing had several small but deep cuts, one on the back of the neck, one on the left ear. Marj figured that the beautiful animal was stolen, and the thieves had removed any identifying markings — a tattoo on the ear and an implanted ID chip in the neck.
She'd been worried about the wolf all night. Yet here she was, standing out in the December cold, hesitant about checking on the animal. The drugging could wear off at any time. The wolf would be agitated, which wouldn't be good for it, her, or the other animals. Besides, it was her back storeroom, she'd go in if she wanted to.
Maybe she should have left the wolf in the back of the truck, or in the barn or the kennels, but she wanted to keep the wild animal away from the cats, dogs, and other animals she sheltered on her property. Fortunately, she'd had Pat to help her wrestle the cage into her dark, narrow storeroom, even though he'd worried about her having a wolf on the premises.
"He'll be behind bars, in a locked room," she'd pointed out, but she'd thanked the minister for his worry. She wasn't used to having anyone worry about her, and she didn't like it. She appreciated having his physical strength, but when it came to emotional strength, she was used to going it on her own.
Marj concentrated on opening the door. The very act of turning the knob was tiring, as if she were pushing against some invisible barrier. Pushing the door itself open was almost an act of courage.
What, she was afraid of the big bad wolf?
Go away, go away, go away.
Marj shook her head and stepped inside.
It was barely dawn, so there was little light coming through the small window set high in the back wall. But there was enough to make out the sight of a naked man's bare buttocks.
"Good Lord almighty!"
He was asleep in the wolf's cage, his legs drawn up beneath him, and he was naked. Big and broad-shouldered, with a hell of a fine ass, muscular thighs, and — naked. Really, really, made-to-be-looked-at, built-like-a-god naked.
"Ohhh, my."
It had been a while since she'd been this close to a naked man, and never to one this impressive. Though the sight was shocking, she came to her senses, and demanded, "What the hell are you doing in there?"
The man didn't move. An arm covered his head, blocking his face. She took a step closer to the cage — and heard the phone ringing in the office in the front of the building.
Answer the phone!
She let it ring only twice before crossing the storeroom and hurrying to answer the call. She had a sleeping man where the wolf was supposed to be, which made for some serious questions that needed to be answered — but there might also be a veterinary emergency on the other end of the phone line. She'd deal with the caller first. The naked man wasn't going anywhere.
The instant the woman left the room, Harry sat up and turned to the cage door. He had to make his escape quickly, while she was occupied. He shivered. The temperature in the already cold room had dropped like a rock when she opened the door. It was also a reaction from all the energy he'd just burned clouding her mind. It annoyed him that she'd blocked most of what he'd sent her way; her resistance made his headache worse.
That wasn't supposed to happen!
While his stiff fingers worked the latch, he heard her voice in the distance, her tone calm and professional.
It only took seconds to open the door, then he crawled out and stretched his cramped muscles as he stood. Harry was not a short man, and being able to stretch out to his full height caused him to let out a sigh of relief.
Though he couldn't believe she'd heard him, suddenly the woman became silent. He could feel her listening, feel her stillness. It was like there was some kind of connection between them.
A connection Harry certainly didn't have time to explore. What he had to do was get out. The extra few minutes had given him more energy, even if he'd paid the price in embarrassment, and he was turning back into wolf form even as he leapt out the back door.
Now covered by a thick, warm coat of fur, Harry was delighted to be out in the brisk early-morning air. All his senses had shifted and sharpened along with his shape. Colors took on new depth, scents sparkled in the air, and his hearing became far more acute. It was good to be a werewolf, and he wanted to throw his head back and howl in delight. Impulse control could be tricky while in were-form, but that was because the impulses were good, strong, elemental ones. Control, however, was essential to survival.
A howl would bring the woman running, and he needed to get away cleanly before she even realized he was gone.
But one deep breath stopped him. There was something lingering — a faint, old scent — maybe. There were a great many animals in this place, which would make it harder to ferret out a trace of what might be there. But he had the best nose in the business.
Harry padded silently forward. Might as well have a sniff and snuffle while he was here.
"Just bring the kittens over, Mrs. Braem," Marj said when she couldn't take any more of the woman's complaints about strays and how bad animals were.
Mrs. Braem had found a mother cat with a trio of kittens in a shed in her backyard and wasn't at all happy about it.
"All right, then. I'll come pick them up," Marj said when the woman protested bringing them in.
"When?"
Marj thought about the mystery of the wolf, the greyhound, and the man in the storage room. "Later on today."
"Oh, no, you're not getting out of this. I want them off my property right now, or I'll drown them."
Fury shot through Marj. "Where's your Christmas spirit, Mrs. Braem?"
"What's Christmas got to do with animals?"
"Oh, I don't know — the manger and the stable, perhaps?" Don't get sarcastic Marj warned herself. Don't jeopardize the animals' safety. "Never mind, I'll be over as soon as I can."
"This morning, Marjorie Piper."
Mrs. Braem had been her fifth-grade teacher and would just call her sassy if Marj reminded the old woman that she was Dr. Marjorie Piper these days.
"Yes, Mrs. Braem," she said.
She hung up and hurried back to the storeroom. When she saw the empty cage she skidded to a halt.
She hadn't known what she was going to do about the naked man in a cage in the first place — although her libido had suggested a few erotic things before she could stop it. The whole situation was worrying and confusing, not to say downright bizarre.
She'd had a lot of questions — like what had happened to the wolf, and why had he taken its place? And now he was gone.
How the devil did he escape?
Marj laughed. She definitely spent too much time with animals if she was surprised that a human had simply unlatched the door and crawled out.
But… where had he gone… undressed like that?
She walked to the open back door and looked around. The numerous buildings of Piper Ranch were perched on the crest of a hill. The land stretched out below in a long, barren slope down to the flat valley of a little river that was dry this time of year. She couldn't see any movement. The man must have bolted as soon as she'd left to answer the phone, and was long gone. She had a lot of dogs, so if he was snooping around the place, there'd be an unholy racket of barking to warn her.
Now both the man and the wolf were gone. She supposed she better call the sheriff and —
Her train of thought was derailed as the ringing phone startled her once again, and she swore silently all the way to her office.
"What?" Marj demanded when she picked up the phone.
"Did we get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"
It was her friend Alice.
"I've barely been in bed," Marj answered.
"Oh?" The small word held a very loaded question. "Veterinary emergency? Or did you and Pat — "
"The Reverend Muller is a gentleman."
"I know, I talked to him this morning. But I have hopes for you two."
Don't. Marj looked at her watch. "What do you mean, you've already talked to him? Do you know how early it is?"
"He called me. He said he was worried about you being alone with a wolf. Are you alone with a wolf, when I set you up with a perfectly nice minister?"
Marj laughed. "Not that kind of wolf." An image of the hard-muscled stranger flashed through her mind and warmed her all over.
She pushed her erotic reactions aside as Alice continued, "You have no business being alone with a dangerous animal. Are you going to be okay? How did you end up with a wolf?"
"Didn't Pat tell you?"
"Something about men in a van and tranquilizer darts, and you acting really strange. Marj, you've got the man thinking you're Dr. Doolittle."
She'd heard the comparison before. She tried to be careful, tried not to give any evidence of being a crazy woman who talked to the animals. It wasn't so much that she talked to them, but that they talked to her. And it wasn't even really talking, but a kind of emotional communication.
Except the wolf. The oddest thing was, the wolf had actually spoken to her. That had to be her imagination.
"Promise me you won't tell anyone about the wolf, okay?"
"Why not?"
"Because — " Marj started to explain that it had escaped, but quickly thought better of it.
People had a lot of misconceptions about wolves. The chances were quite good that the locals would mount a hunt for the animal if the news that it was roaming free got out.
A wolf was a predator, and there was genuine reason for concern for livestock, but only if the wolf was desperate and starving. A wolf without a pack would be far more likely to go after prey like rodents than attack someone's cattle.
But her neighbors weren't going to listen to an educational campaign when it was easier to get out their rifles. Better safe than sorry, they'd say.
Better cautious, than a dead wolf on my conscience. Marj didn't know what had happened to the animal, or how the naked stranger was involved. She figured she'd better find out, and quickly, and keep quiet about it while she did.
"I have to go," she told Alice. "Mrs. Braem is threatening to drown some kittens. You'd think a widowed retired schoolteacher would take in a basket of adorable kittens, but will our Mrs. Braem succumb to the cat lady stereotype? No."
People could be so cruel to animals. Marj saw it all the time, and it soured her on her fellow human beings.
Alice knew this, but Alice was an optimist. "Bring the kittens to the Holiday Fete," she suggested. "Bring a bunch of your critters."
"Why?"
"You could set up an adoption booth, and you can auction them off or something. People are bound to want pets as Christmas presents."
Marj wasn't sure she liked the idea, but Alice was a force of nature not to be argued with. "I'll think about it. But right now I have to get over to Mrs. Braem's."
Then spend the rest of the day wolf- and naked-man hunting, she added to herself.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
Kennedyville's small grocery store smelled strongly of fresh paint and sawdust. Marj nearly coughed when she stepped in out of the crisp winter air.
"Don't make a face like that, Marjorie Piper," Sam Murphy called from behind the counter directly across from the door. "I know it stinks, but it's a clean stink. Remember what the place was like a few months ago."
A wildfire had roared through during the summer, but the resilient people of the small town were putting their town back together. The high school, where tonight's celebration was being held, had been the first building restored.
Murphy's store was one of the last businesses to reopen. It was just four aisles of shelves, with freezers and cold cases along the walls. Not much, but having a local grocery store cut out the long drive to bigger towns to buy supplies.
Alice said that it helped make Kennedyville home, trying to remind Marj that she was part of the community. Marj hadn't been in town much for a while, and wasn't sure she even wanted to belong. She did take pride in being useful to the town, though, even if she did it more for the animals than the people.
She forced herself to be cheerful, and told Sam, "You could keep the door open to let a little fresh air in."
"There's probably a Health Department rule against it," he answered.
"Why would you have to worry about the Health Department?" she asked, closing the door behind her.
"I wouldn't," Sam answered, a little too loudly.
He glanced toward the freezer cases along one wall. Marj followed his glance to see a tall, dark-haired stranger in a brown leather jacket in front of the small dairy section.
Marj noticed that he had a strong, square jaw, and a high-arched, elegant nose. The man stood with his head cocked to one side, studying the milk selection. But the store owner looked with narrow-eyed suspicion on the man. It seemed he thought the man was listening to them.
Marj couldn't help but smile. Okay, maybe the folk around here were a bit insular, and most strangers were of the passing-through sort. Outsiders generally didn't go beyond the motel on the edge of the town or the truck stop diner across the road. For an outsider to come in for a few groceries was unusual.
Which aroused her suspicions, since she'd had some pretty weird encounters with strangers recently. There wasn't anything particularly familiar about the man by the milk case, but she hadn't seen her intruder's face. Any distinguishing marks that might identify this man as him were covered by clothing. Besides, he looked too tall to have been stuffed inside the kennel.
She guessed that the stranger had tried to strike up a friendly conversation with the shopkeeper, not knowing that Sam Murphy was the most taciturn person alive with anyone he hadn't known for at least a decade.
"Are you going to be at the high school tonight?" she asked Sam as she stepped toward the dairy case herself.
"Not if there's going to be animals there."
"Murphy, you are such a grump." She noticed that his only concession to Christmas decorating was a string of tiny multicolored lights hung on the front counter. "I'm giving away kittens."
"I thought I heard something about that. Heard about the wolf, too." He did not sound at all happy. "Did you bring it for show-and-tell?"
"No," she answered quickly. "The wolf is — safe."
She hoped that wherever it was, it was indeed safe. She hated that the news had spread, and she'd had a few worried, and rude, phone calls. But so far no one had driven up to her place and demanded a look at the "dangerous vermin."
Well, there'd been a few demands, but she could be as stern and forbidding as they came. And she hadn't hesitated to point out that as the only local vet, they needed her.
"You better get rid of that animal," Murphy said.
"You sound just like Mrs. Braem."
"That's because we're going steady."
Before she could answer, the door opened again, and the store owner greeted another customer. Marj reached the dairy case, and tried to step around the stranger in front of it. He was lost in thought and seemed totally unaware of her.
"Excuse me," she finally said.
The man didn't move, but focused intensely arctic blue eyes on her. "What's wrong with him?" he asked. "Doesn't he like animals?"
So the outsider had been eavesdropping! Looking into those bright, curious, compelling eyes, Marj couldn't be annoyed, and she was shocked by the flash of attraction that went through her.
She wasn't known for being outgoing and friendly, but she couldn't help but answer in a confiding whisper, "You can't blame Sam. He's been bitten by just about everything — snakes, scorpions, dogs. Scratched by cats. He even got pecked by a dove once. My Taffy's about the only critter that's ever liked Sam, but he's too lazy to dislike anybody."
The stranger smiled, which added to his attractiveness. He had deep dimples, and lines around his eyes crinkled. This gave him a mischievous air. "Taffy sounds like a gentleman."
Complimenting her favorite pet was a good way to get into Marj's good graces, and she smiled at him. It didn't hurt that the stranger exuded confident masculinity, was good-looking, and had a deep, sexy voice.
As they smiled at each other, they shared a long, lingering look.
"You like animals, I take it?"
There was now a distinct twinkle in his eyes. "You could say that. At least none have ever bitten me — unless it was consensual," he added, looking straight at her.
A zing went through her, and Marj went hot all over.
Which made her feel guilty, since she had a date with Pat tonight to go to the Holiday Fete and potluck dinner, and she was a firm believer in dancing with the one that brought ya.
Pity.
Not that she and the stranger were really flirting, but they were standing awfully close together. And his smile was making her feel all tingly and warm.
She hadn't been involved or even vaguely interested in anyone in a long time, and now she was going to a party with one man and having a hormonal rush over another. Not that she was was going to do anything about it; the rush simply proved she wasn't dead.
Suddenly she found herself wondering how long they'd been staring at each other, and why the tingling was stronger and the room warmer. And were they even closer, almost touching? The world seemed to have just gone away.
"The world does that, sometimes," he said.
It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and Marj wasn't prepared for this, at all. Even if she was used to this sort of thing going the other way — but not with people. She'd probably spoken out loud, and the embarrassment of having done that shot a bolt of irritability through her.
"You're in my way."
Marj took a step sideways, but he moved with her, still blocking the dairy section. She ducked around him when he opened the case. She saw what she wanted, and there was only one; a yellow quart carton sitting between rows of chocolate milk and lactose-free milk.
She and the stranger reached for the eggnog at the same time. Their hands met inside the cooler.
The electricity that arced between them was as tangible as lightning. All of Marj's nerve endings short-circuited. Her head went haywire, and she jumped back with a gasp.
The man looked stunned as well and cleared his throat. Then he reached for the eggnog again, and Marj got her senses back.
"Excuse me," she said, "but I need that."
"So do I," he said. "I have to go to a party tonight, and I'm told I should bring something."
"Me too."
He looked down at her from a height of at least six-foot-three. She generally wasn't aware of being only five-foot-one, but this man made her feel small. She didn't like it.
"You're hogging my eggnog."
"And you're expecting me to be a gentleman and let you have it." He shook a finger at her. "I touched it first."
"You distracted me."
"I touched your hand." He gave her a cocky grin. "I admit I'm devastating, though."
She didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed at this masculine self-confidence.
She turned her head and called to the storekeeper. "Do you have any more eggnog in the back, Sam?"
"With the Holiday Fete at the high school tonight?" Murphy called back. "What do you think?"
"Everybody can't be bringing eggnog."
"Take some chips and salsa," the stranger suggested. "Or potato salad. That's always a hit at a party."
"Eggnog is more festive. And I brought cookies to go with it."
"But not everybody likes eggnog."
"Taffy does."
Marj winced, realizing that she'd just admitted to catering to the tastes of a big, slobbering retriever.
The stranger laughed, and handed her the last quart of eggnog. "I'm a sucker for animal lovers."
She smiled her thanks and hurried to pay Sam. She found it oddly hard to walk away from the stranger, and was sure she felt his gaze on her the whole time.
Harry liked her. He wasn't sure if he should, and he wasn't going to let liking her get in the way of solving his current missing person case, if she was involved in any way. But he liked her — and he desired her.
He liked the way she walked; he liked the way she talked. He liked her dark red hair, her big brown eyes, and her heart-shaped face. He liked the way her shapely bottom was nicely molded by the khaki slacks she wore. He liked her voice, and the way she smelled, and the roundness of her breasts beneath the teal sweater, and the way she had hips like a real woman and a slender waist.
That sharp chin indicated a lot of stubbornness, and there was sorrow deep in those brandy brown eyes. She was a human, but he didn't hold that against her. He was human himself most of the time. And Dr. Piper had a little extra psychic energy that definitely appealed to the animal in him.
He was certain that he was going to bed her before he left town.
Though she didn't know he knew it, he knew a lot about her. Along with his nose, and an ability to ask questions, he had a laptop, and knew how to use the Internet.
After catching the scent of one of the missing kids at her ranch, he'd done a little digging with his laptop. Dr. Piper was single and wealthy. She'd been born and raised here, though she'd gone to school in California and practiced there for a while. Then she'd returned home and lost both parents within several years of each other. First her mother, to heart failure, then her father to cancer a year ago. She ran her animal shelter with private funds and kept to herself.
What was her connection to one of the missing teenagers Harry was hunting? And why hadn't she told anyone about him — in either his wolf or human form? Not that she'd recognize him in either form, since he'd spent a lot of energy projecting you've never seen me before at her in the store.
He also wondered how soon he would see her again and how soon he could get her alone. He'd like touching Marjorie Piper, and wanted to do a much more thorough job of it the next time.
But for now, it was time to get to the party at the high school. He'd told his kinsman he'd meet them there, as soon as he bought something for the potluck. And it looked like it was to be salsa and chips.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
"May we join you?"
Marj was surprised at shy Annette Fennick's request.
Terry and Annette Fennick made her look like a social butterfly. They kept to themselves, home schooling their teenaged son, Phil. Over the years, Marj had seen far more of Phil than she had of his parents. It was from Phil that she'd learned about a new baby sister arriving six months ago. They must have found a sitter tonight, because here they were, with Terry standing diffidently just behind Annette, his hand on her shoulder.
Marj had been sitting alone with Pat for nearly an hour, and the conversation wasn't getting any more interesting, no matter how hard they tried. She smiled at the couple, and said, "Sure, join us."
She didn't look at him, but she could practically feel Pat Mutter's frown at the intrusion. Well, maybe he'd been more entertained than she was, but she didn't think she'd been exactly scintillating.
The Holoday Fete was being held in the gym, with round tables and folding chairs set up in one half and a line of long tables for the auction of crafts and such on the other side of the room. Red paper tablecloths alternated with green ones and there was a potted poinsettia as a centerpiece on each of the dinner tables. The food for the potluck meal was heavy on decorated cookies, fruitcakes, and boxes of candy. She wasn't the only one to have brought eggnog, and there was also a bowlful of punch and an urn of coffee. Fortunately, Pat and Alice had made sure there was turkey, mashed potatoes, and other real food, so the guests weren't subsisting solely on a sugar-and-caffeine buzz.
Marj had left Taffy, the black greyhound, a pair of mixed breed puppies, and the rescued kittens in kennel crates behind one of the tables across the room. A sign reading name the greyhound hung over the black beauty's crate. Taffy was there to keep the greyhound company. And Marj had hopes of finding homes for the kittens and puppies before the evening was over.
Unfortunately, many of the dinner tables were only half full, or even empty. Not a lot of the population of Kennedyville had shown up for this holiday event. It was sad, really, and Marj was beginning to think that maybe there was something to Alice's repeated statements about how they were a "town in crisis."
"The fire should have brought us together; instead it's torn us apart," Alice's had proclaimed, and they organized this get-together with the new minister's help. Though she'd badgered everyone within fifty miles to come, the turnout was pretty disappointing.
Across the gym, Alice was now frowning furiously at the Fennicks for interrupting Marj and Pat's tête-à-tête, and Marj had to grin. Alice was seriously into matchmaking mode.
Marj's smile disappeared in surprise as the tall stranger from Murphy's store strode up behind the Fennicks.
"Hey, cousin," he said, putting a big hand on thin, sharp-featured Terry's shoulder. Then he held a chair out for Annette.
Quite the gentlemen, Marj decided.
Annette blushed and looked quite flustered at this gallantry. Terry took a seat beside his wife, and the stranger settled into the folding chair next to Marj. He reached a big hand across the table toward Pat, and said, "I'm Harrison Blethyin, but everybody calls me Harry. Nice to meet you."
The whole time he spoke, Marj couldn't help but notice that he was looking at her. And she couldn't help but look back. She wasn't sure what to make of it, and the amused twinkle in his blue eyes was — disconcerting.
It made her want to snuggle up close to him, unbutton his shirt, and start doing things that it was best not to think about while sitting across from the minister. She also had the feeling that Harry Blethyin knew exactly what she was feeling, and it was exactly what he wanted from her.
"Hello, Marjorie Piper," Harry's smile widened and his eyes turned hot. "It's good to see you again." His look implied that he definitely hadn't seen enough the first time.
Marj went hot all over but managed to say calmly enough, "It's only been an hour."
"You two know each other?" Pat asked.
"How's Taffy?" Harry asked, as though it was the most urgent thing in the world. He put his big hand over hers on the tabletop. "Did he enjoy the eggnog?"
"We do not know each other," Marj answered Pat. Yet she didn't pull her hand away, though there was no reason for allowing Harry's familiarity.
"It was the eggnog that brought us together. And Sam Murphy, of course."
"You are being inane," Marj told Harry. She looked at the Fennicks as Harry's fingers twined with hers. "How's the baby? And how's Phil? I haven't seen him for a while." And who is this man, and why is he with you?
"I'm a distant cousin," Harry said. "I've come for the holidays."
Marj didn't believe him. She didn't know why. Maybe because it felt like he'd plucked the words out of her head. It was as if they could silently speak to each other, which shook her. This was an intimacy far different than the empathy she'd always shared with animals.
"Welcome to Kennedyville, Mr. Blethyin," Pat spoke up.
"Call me Harry."
You should be called dangerous, Marj thought. She could sense it, beneath the good looks and the easy charm. He shrugged out of his brown leather jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to bare muscular forearms, and sat back in his chair, looking like he was simply enjoying this small-town social function.
But there was something watchful about him. An aura that said he owned whatever space he was in. Everyone was looking at him. He knew it, expected it, and paid it no mind. The man filled the room, and this being a gym, that meant he took up a lot of emotional space. He was alpha to the max, even just sitting there, smiling.
Marj didn't think she liked his overwhelming maleness, but it certainly was compelling. She'd bet every woman in that room felt a bit flushed and more female because of Mr. Blethyin's charisma.
The deep, inner wolf part of Harry didn't like it that Marjorie Piper was with another male. He must be more attracted to her than he'd thought, or he wouldn't be having this reaction. And he wouldn't want to be touching her above all else. Touching was a very important part of the mating ritual.
He was here to work, he reminded himself, not to start a ruckus with another male over the right to possess a mate. Especially a male like Patrick Muller. It was beneath his dignity; it wouldn't be fair to pick on someone who was so obviously a beta.
The first thing he'd noticed when he entered the gym was Marjorie Piper sitting alone with the man, looking bored. He'd been tempted to cross the room and take her away immediately. But since he was here on business, he'd sent his kinfolk to make sharing this table seem ordinary. He hated having to use the Fennicks. They were worried parents and wary of being around their human neighbors for any length of time. But they'd volunteered to do anything they could to help, so he took them at their word.
"So, you know my young cousin, Phil," he said to Marj, getting down to business. "He's grown a lot lately, don't you think?"
"I don't know about lately," she answered. "I haven't seen him for a couple of months."
The scent he'd encountered at her ranch had been an old one, and it hadn't been just the scent of a young were-fox. There'd also been a werecat of some sort, cougar, maybe. The scent had been faint, and carefully masked. The kids had used the animals on the ranch to cover their own trail, and he hadn't been able to follow it, even though he had the best nose in the business. He didn't like being thwarted. Surely, this woman had some information that could set him on the right trail.
He felt Annette Fennick straining to ask about her boy, and he put a hand gently on her shoulder for a moment, letting the quick touch both reassure her and remind her that he was in charge.
"A couple of months? What was he doing at your ranch?" he asked Marj.
She gave him a suspicious look. "Did I say he was at my ranch?"
Her challenging tone made him bristle, instinctive alpha behavior, but he didn't let it show. She felt it though. He could tell by the way her brown eyes dilated and her body chemistry shifted, that she was aware of him, as a female. Across the gym, he heard a faint growl from her protective dog.
"I assumed," he said to Marj. "Perhaps I shouldn't have."
"Phil did stop by back in October," she said, looking at Annette. "He showed me a photo of the baby. She looks a lot like Terry, doesn't she?"
"A lot," Annette agreed.
"Was his friend with him?" Harry asked.
"Clark?" Marj nodded.
So, it was the werecougar. He was the ringleader of the crazy, little runaway group.
"What do you do for a living?" Patrick Muller spoke up.
"I'm a private investigator," Harry answered. No reason not to be honest with these people, but lots of reasons to be very cautious.
"That's a pretty macho profession," Marj said, not admiringly.
"I was a police detective in San Diego." he said, looking at her sternly. "Now I work on my own, specializing in missing persons cases." He touched the arch of his nose. "I've got the nose for it."
Annette gave him a worried look, as though he'd just given something away about his olfactory talents. She and her husband were werefoxes, and they had no sense of humor about the way weres and humans could interact.
It's a silly joke, he thought at the werefox woman.
Marj blinked and shook her head. Then gave him a very suspicious look.
That she was picking up on his thoughts was very disturbing. And sexy. This touching on many levels was deeply sensuous, but it wasn't the time or place to explore it. Later, when minds as well as bodies could share, the experience would be explosive. He'd heard it could be addicting, too. He'd have to watch out for that.
Before he could say anything else, a pretty blond woman came up to the table. She was smiling, but there was disappointment in her eyes as she looked from him and the Fennicks to Marjorie and Muller.
"Hello, Alice," Marj said. "This is Harry. Alice organized all this," she told Harry. And you've spoiled her matchmaking, and she's probably really pissed.
But there wasn't really anything to spoil, was there? he thought back at her. She'd just pretend her imagination was being overactive, because humans always looked for sensible, logical explanations when weird stuff happened to them.
"I'm sorry." Marj gestured around the sparsely populated gym. "I know you hoped more people would come."
"But it was an almost spur-of-the-moment celebration," Pat added. "Next year we'll plan it better."
Alice sighed and pulled up a chair. "This is not going too well," she conceded. "Maybe you should have brought the wolf, Marj. People would have shown up to see that."
Angry, Harry had to look down sharply and make a conscious effort not to let his fangs grow.
"I don't exhibit dangerous animals. They don't belong in cages," Marj said sternly.
Her words went straight to his heart. He almost kissed her then and there. As it was, he was barely able not to give her a grateful look. He wasn't here to fall in love, but to find some missing teenagers.
If those teenagers had been human, this wouldn't be such a hazardous assignment. But he had to be more than doubly on guard to protect the secret of all his kind. Involvement with a human could be a costly, dangerous distraction. Oh, he intended to have sex with her; he was too alpha to deny himself that pleasure. He just had to watch out for emotional involvement.
But right now the most important question was, what was her emotional involvement with the wolf?
"What are you going to do with this wolf?" he asked.
"Where did the wolf come from?" Alice asked at the same time. "You said it was shot by the men in the van, but — "
"Does the sheriff have any information about them yet?" Muller wanted to know. "Was the greyhound stolen?"
Harry willed Marj to answer him first. He got the strong sense that she didn't want to talk about it at all.
 
 
Chapter 5
 
Marj held up her hands, and said, "I don't know where to begin."
The group around the table waited. She was intensely aware of Harry watching her, willing her to concentrate only on him. She fought off the almost overwhelming urge to do so and deliberately addressed Pat. "I'm fairly certain that she's a racing greyhound."
"How can you tell?" Pat asked.
"She's a gentle princess, but she doesn't have a lot of social skills."
"Never been housebroken," Harry said.
Marj nodded, without looking at the P.I. "And she has no concept of how to go up and down stairs. A track dog wouldn't know how to live in a house." She glanced over to where the greyhound lay, with Taffy resting beside her. "I figure she was stolen from a track, since the bastards cut her to remove all identification marks."
"Why would anyone do that?" Alice asked.
Marj shrugged. "I've made calls and sent e-mails, but I haven't heard back from anywhere about a missing racer yet."
She rather hoped she didn't. She knew it was selfish of her, but Taffy and the black lady had bonded instantly. She hated the idea of her dog finding the love of his life, then losing her to the hard world of dog-racing tracks.
"They had the dog and the wolf in the van, and the animals somehow got away," Pat surmised. "What do you think they were doing with a wolf, too?"
"They were probably going to sell it," Harry spoke up. "Wolves might be endangered in places in the wild, but there's a huge trade in them as pets."
Alice gasped. "You're kidding!"
"He's right," Marj concurred. "People actually breed and sell wolves."
"They're dangerous animals."
"That's right, Alice," Harry answered. "And when people who buy wolf pups to raise as pets find out that their adorable puppy grows up wild at heart, things generally don't turn out well for the wolf."
Marj heard his bitterness and absolutely agreed with it. "You know whereof you speak."
His gaze caught hers. "I've done a lot of volunteer work with wolf rescue and rehabilitation at a wolf center in Colorado."
"Really?"
Marj tried hard to hide her sudden eagerness as an idea occurred to her. But she was sure he recognized that a lightbulb had gone off over her head, by the look in his eyes, and the slight smile that lifted the strong curve of his lips. That look also told her that whatever she wanted, it wouldn't come for free.
Fair enough.
She needed to talk to Harrison Blethyin, and she needed to talk to him alone.
Marj stood, and said, "Alice, it looks like everyone's finished eating. Why don't we get on to the craft fair and raffle part of the evening?"
"Wolves mate for life, you know."
A chill went through Marj at Harry's words, followed by a swift, hot, confusing rush of longing.
Mating for life. With who? Him? God, what a thought!
She gave her head a swift, hard shake.
He loomed above her, looking dangerous and unpredictable. There was a wild glint in his eyes. He'd unbuttoned his shirt collar, rolled up his sleeves, and a strand of black hair had fallen across his forehead, adding to the undomesticated look. He brushed it back with a quick, graceful gesture. For a moment she couldn't breathe, staring at his large, capable-looking hand.
"What?" she finally asked. She could barely get out the word.
Those eyes told her he was perfectly aware of her stunned, visceral, reaction to him, but he pointed behind where she sat. "And what are dogs but wolves that know they have a good thing? Those two are in love."
She'd been playing with the basket of kittens set on the table before her, dangling a green Christmas ribbon for them to bat at. Now, she turned to look where Harry was pointing, knowing that she'd see Taffy and the greyhound lying side by side. The old black metal folding chair creaked as she moved.
She'd let the dogs out of the big cage so that they could stretch their legs, and so that everyone could get a better look at the elegant greyhound. She had no trouble keeping them quietly well behaved. Being able to communicate with the animals was also calming for herself after spending several hours in the company of people.
She just wasn't used to humans anymore. Being around the locals she'd known all her life was hard enough, and Harrison Blethyin was downright disconcerting. Being with the dogs and cats, and having the slight distance of the table between her and others, soothed her.
She had found a home for one tabby kitten, and a brown-and-black puppy of dubious ancestry. She'd urged children to write down a suggestion for a name for the greyhound and put their slips of paper in the fishbowl on the table. She was going to draw one of the folded pieces soon and award the winner of the Name the Greyhound contest a prize.
The greyhound was sitting on her haunches, her huge eyes gazing upward. She looked something like the image of an ancient Egyptian statue of Anubis with velvety furled ears.
Taffy was lying next to the black dog, and he had eyes only for her. His tongue was lolling out, and he was drooling, which wasn't something he did very often. Never dignified, right now he was downright ridiculous.
"Yep," she said. "It must be love."
"He's totally smitten."
Marj jumped in surprise and realized that Harry was now standing beside her. And it was at Harry that the greyhound's worshipful gaze was directed.
Marj could feel the waves of emotion the animal directed at the man. The feelings weren't complex, but strong, and hard to put into words — gratitude? Love? Something that wasn't quite fear, but close — wary respect?
"I think Taffy might have competition for her affections," she said. "Are you thinking of taking her home?"
And I think she recognizes you, but from where?
Harry laughed. "Oh, no, not me."
For a moment, Marj wasn't sure which of her questions he was answering. There were more important questions that she wanted to ask him, too.
"Have a seat," she offered.
He'd already pulled up another of the folding chairs and set it very close to hers. He settled his big form onto the seat, then leaned close to her.
"All right," he said, affable, but hard-eyed. "What exactly do you want from me?"
Anger bubbled through her. She had the temper that went along with her red hair, and she fought not to let it get the best of her now. She couldn't afford to snarl at this man, to tell him he was arrogant and far too sure of himself.
A lost animal needed help, and it was up to her to provide it.
So she whispered when she wanted to shout. "I'm looking for a wolf, Mr. Blethyin."
"You've found one," he whispered back.
She sighed and looked around to make sure they were not overheard. "I did find a wolf — but I lost it."
He lifted one dark, heavy eyebrow. "Lost?"
"It escaped," she corrected. "And I'm afraid it's not going to survive out there on its own."
Harry wanted to take Marj's hand and tell her, There, there, the wolf's just fine. Actually, he wanted to take her hand, then take the rest of her. Her concern for his were-self touched him, and it turned him on.
"What makes you think your wolf won't survive?"
"He doesn't have thumbs. Which means he can't shoot back when ranchers shoot at him. He probably doesn't have a license to carry a gun, either."
Oh, I wouldn't bet on that.
She blinked. "What?"
"Wolves don't carry concealed weapons," he said. "Claws, fangs, and muscles have served them well for thousands of years."
"They're endangered now," she reminded him. "They don't exist well in the same areas that people live."
"That's right," he agreed. "And you're telling me you have a wolf loose in the environs of Kennedyville?"
She nodded and gave him a very anxious look. "Please don't tell anyone."
"And you haven't informed the local authorities?"
She gave him a faint smile. "Of course I have."
"Meaning — that you are the local authority." She nodded. "And why are you asking for my help?"
He was half-tempted to tell her that to find her big black wolf, all he had to do was look in a mirror. This was scary, because being tempted to reveal anything to a human was far more than was safe or sane for his kind. Such honesty was only possible when a were took a human mate, which rarely happened these days.
At least, it wasn't supposed to happen these days. He believed one of the reasons the teenagers had gone missing was because someone in the group had trespassed that unwritten taboo.
"I want to hire you to find the missing wolf for several reasons," she answered, once again looking around furtively.
"We're alone," he said. He moved closer to her, reveling in her warmth and scent. "Your boyfriend is glaring at us, but he's stuck dancing with that little old lady." Somebody had brought in a boom box, and instead of Christmas music, some of the townspeople were dancing to an OutKast CD. "Life is truly strange," he murmured.
"And Pat's a long way from being my boyfriend," Marj answered.
"I know."
He took her hand and experienced that electric contact between them once more. He managed to pull away from her just in time — before taking the kiss he desperately wanted.
Harry cleared his throat and forced his mind back to business. "You have other reasons for wanting to hire me?"
Blushing, she got back to business. "You're a professional investigator, and you said you've done volunteer work at a wolf sanctuary." She touched his arm. "Will you help?"
That jolt went through him again, but Harry had himself under control. "For a price."
"Of course I'll pay you."
"That's not what I meant. I want to make a bargain with you."
Her suspicion soared. The emotion was strong enough to attract the attention of her dog. Harry gave Taffy a hard look, and the dog grunted and put his head back down.
"I should explain why I'm visiting the Fennicks," Harry told Marj. "We are distantly related, and that's why they called me when their son ran away from home."
"Phil ran away from home?"
"Three months ago."
"But — I saw him — back in October."
"So you said. For helping you with the wolf, I want your help finding him."
It was a one-sided bargain, but who said a werewolf had to play fair protecting his kind from humans? If he didn't find those kids soon, humans were going to catch on to what they were. They were too young, stupid, and idealistic not to give themselves away.
"How can I help you?" Marj asked.
People were heading their way. "I'll let you know," Harry said.
Feeling wary and puzzled, Marj put on a smile as Alice shepherded all the kids up to her table.
"Time for the name drawing!" she announced.
Marj put on a wide smile. "Sure."
Harry brought the greyhound forward. It jumped up on the table for him, while Taffy followed and bumped his big head into the back of Harry's legs. Marj stuck her hand into the fishbowl and brought out one of the folded scraps of paper.
"Dennis Cooper wins the prize!" she announced. "And our greyhound princess's new name is — Noel."
 
 
Chapter 6
 
"Noel's a good name," Marj told the greyhound, which was lounging on the green-and-black plaid dog bed in one corner of her huge kitchen, Taffy lying nearby on the tiled floor.
She poured herself a fresh mug of hot chocolate and sat at the table, her thoughts returning to earlier in the evening. "But I don't know why Dennis's mom wouldn't let me give him a kitten as a prize."
They settled on ten dollars for naming the dog, instead.
There'd been a scattering of applause, then everybody began to quickly pack up to go home. Alice looked very unhappy, disappointed that her effort in bringing the community together had been a lukewarm affair, at best.
Before Marj could say anything to comfort her friend Harry took her by the arm, and said, "I'll help you with the critters."
Marj was riveted by his gaze, which concentrated intently on her. She was drawn to his large, very masculine presence. Her throat tightened, heat pulsed through her, and she licked her lips. She found herself staring at his mouth and wanting very much to be kissed.
Stunned, she pulled herself together enough to say, "Sure. Thanks."
She moved in a daze as she put the kittens and puppies back in crates and took them out to her truck. Harry followed her out to the rapidly emptying parking lot, carrying the larger cage. Noel and Taffy trotted along behind them and hopped into the back of the cab.
Then it was just the two of them, and Harry moved very close to her as she stood by the truck door, her keys dangling in her hand. Their breath frosted the winter-night air.
He put his hand up to cup her cheek and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. The touch seared her, burning away any trace of cold. Their gazes locked. Her knees went weak, she dropped the keys, and his other hand settled on her hip.
Harry started to pull her closer.
And the Fennicks walked up behind them. Annette gasped, which drew Harry's attention. He glared, and Terry cleared his throat.
"We have to go now," Terry said.
Harry growled, then walked away with the Fennicks without saying a word.
It took Marj a few seconds to get herself together. When she did, she wondered why the Fennicks had looked so disapproving. Maybe because Harry was supposed to be looking for their son? No doubt they wanted him to keep his mind strictly on business.
They were right, she told herself an hour later in her kitchen. Harrison Blethyin did need to keep his mind on business first.
"Too bad."
Not only had she looked forward to being kissed, Marj also wanted to talk more with Harry. But he'd been swept off by the Fennicks before she had a chance to get a cell phone number. And the Fennicks didn't have a telephone. She and Harry needed to discuss when he'd look for the wolf, and how. Even more importantly, she was worried about Phil Fennick. Of course she wanted to help. Why had the Fennicks kept the news about their son quiet?
Well, they were very private people, and they had called in professional help. But Phil was only sixteen, seventeen at most. Didn't the authorities have to be notified about a runaway minor?
She knew a lot more about animals than she did about people. Maybe, sometimes, that wasn't such a good thing.
A disturbing hint of longing and loneliness threaded through her. Not only did she want to see the handsome, confident stranger again, she desperately wanted to. There was something challenging about him — and, oh my, he was so very sexy.
"Sexy, which can be defined as trouble. What do you guys think? Do I want that tall, dark, and dangerous kind of trouble?"
Oh, yes, her body responded.
Marj wasn't exactly alone in the room, so technically she wasn't talking to herself. Besides the newly christened Noel, Taffy lay on the white tiled floor munching on a chew toy, and the puppies and kittens slept in boxes in opposite corners. There was a relaxed buzz of animal contentment, but right now the emotional background noise didn't soothe Marj's restive mood.
She felt suddenly weary, and a glance at the digital dock on the microwave showed her it was later than she thought.
Late or not, she had chores to do before she could get to bed. She was glad that she didn't have any sick animals in the clinic, so she only had to check the kennel building. The animals had been fed hours ago, but she always made sure they had plenty of water. And she always took the time for some petting and to communicate with her rescued animals.
She grabbed a worn old pea coat off a hook by the back door, and went out into the December night. Stars burned brightly overhead, and the cold, dry air was crisp and tangy in her lungs. Though the outside lights weren't on, the long, low kennel building next to the barn was easy to make out in the silvery moonlight. She could have found it simply by following the emotional charge surrounding the place though. All the animals inside were waiting for her evening visit.
There was a soft and sentimentally sloppy part of her that was always tempted to move all of her rescued animals inside, to let them have the run of her home. But that way lay disaster. Then she'd be tempted to make every abused, lost, unwanted dog, cat, llama, ferret, and whatever else landed on her doorstep into a personal pet. The goal was to find homes for the rescued animals, not to turn into an eccentric old lady with dozens of "babies" underfoot. To adopt them herself would be to deny a lot of fine animals homes with people who needed to love them and to be loved by them.
So, Taffy was her only official pet. She shouldn't have let Noel inside — especially since the racer was undoubtedly used to living in a kennel — but Taffy had insisted.
Not that he was spoiled, or anything. And he wasn't the one dealing with housebreaking his newfound love.
Sometimes it was not such a gift to be able to talk to animals.
She was almost to the kennel door when all the dogs inside began to bark. And not the scattered barks of welcome that always accompanied her visits; they were baying a warning, and she heeded it.
She ran for the switch inside that would turn on all the floodlights. Coyotes came around at night sometimes, and if the light didn't scare them off, she had a rifle stored in the building.
Just as Marj reached the light switch inside the door, and the night turned bright, a heavy body plowed into her. She went down hard on the concrete stoop. Pain shot through her hip and her head, and the breath was knocked out of her.
"Where is it?" a voice asked from inside the kennel. "Is it in here?"
The man who'd tackled her dragged Marj to her feet on the stoop. Her ears were ringing, and she was dizzy. The dogs were barking wildly, and their concentrated excitement hit her even harder than the blow on the head had.
Her attacker held her close to him, her arms forced behind her back. "I don't see it," he replied.
"She'll know," the other one said. "The animal couldn't be anywhere but here."
"Move." Her attacker pushed her toward the interior of the building.
Just then, the dogs stopped barking.
There was a moment of tense, expectant silence.
Then a deep snarl rumbled outside.
Marj's captor twisted around, taking her with him. And a huge, dark body came rushing through the doorway. She caught a glimpse of fangs. And eyes. Ferocious eyes that glowed bright blue neon.
There was a shout. Someone screamed.
And the wolf leapt.
Soft fur brushed her cheek as the wolf jumped at the man behind her. The hands gripping her let go. Marj stumbled forward and fell, her head hitting the concrete again. She was vaguely aware of a struggle behind her, and a pair of boots flashed by close to her face as the world faded to darkness.
"Taffy, you're a hero."
The dog thumped his tail on the kitchen tiles when Harry spoke to him. Harry patted the chocolate Lab's head, watching out the open back door as the sheriff drove away with the two prisoners.
The last couple of hours had been nothing if not interesting, and Harry felt a certain satisfaction at the way things had gone.
He'd been sneaking around Marj's ranch for perfectly innocent reasons when the ruckus started. After he'd dropped the Fennicks off at their place, he'd gathered several sets of clothing and taken them to leave at various out-of-the-way places on Marj's property. The one disadvantage in shifting from human to animal shape was that nakedness was required. Oh, one could go were while fully dressed, but then you'd have to claw your way out of the restrictive cloth. That was uncomfortable, took precious time that could prove dangerous, and ruined the clothes in the process. Better to strip down and have clothes waiting in a convenient spot when it was time to become human again. To maximize one's options, more than one spot was best.
He'd been upwind of the kennel on the farthest side of the property when the dogs began to bark, and his reaction had been stronger and more visceral than he'd ever experienced before. He had instinctively responded to threat of danger to the woman by morphing and racing to the rescue in wereform.
And she'd seen him!
As had her attackers. Once he'd secured the men and made sure Marj was safe, he went to work on them. He called the sheriff, as well. By the time she arrived, bringing the local nurse practitioner with her, Harry had used his kind's hypnotic gift to convince the intruders they hadn't seen a huge black wolf. They believed that the animal that rushed out of the night to protect Marj was her brown Labrador retriever, that's what they'd told the sheriff. At no point in the evening had anyone mentioned anything about any wolf.
Thus, Taffy was the hero. People were far more likely to accept a logical explanation.
The men had also admitted they'd broken into the kennel, and attacked Marj, to find a racing greyhound they'd stolen that had escaped from their van. Having gotten their confessions to several crimes, the sheriff packed them into the back of her SUV and drove away. Harry hadn't used his hypnotic talent to coerce the truth out of the men. The pair were none too bright and had babbled their story freely, each trying to implicate the other more deeply than himself.
The nurse, who turned out to be Marj's friend Alice, was still in Marj's bedroom.
Harry closed the back door and headed toward the bedroom to see how Marj was doing. Alice met him in the hallway that led to the front of the house and put a finger over her lips, to tell him to be quiet. Then she took his arm, and escorted him back to the kitchen. Harry disliked being led around by anyone, but for the moment he curbed his alpha urge to do exactly what he wanted to do.
Once they were in the kitchen, Alice asked, "What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Blethyin?"
He'd realized at the high school that Alice was one of the community leaders, and he figured what she knew, the town knew. It wouldn't hurt to circulate a story about his and Marj's connection that had nothing to do with wolves, or werewolves.
But first, Harry asked, "How is Marj? Will she be all right?"
"She's asleep."
"Is that good, if she has a concussion?"
"I don't think it's a concussion. But I'll take her to the clinic in Paloma tomorrow to have her checked out."
"Can I see her?" he asked, to make it sound like she was in charge and he was cooperating. He fully intended to have a look in on Marj, but he'd wait until he'd gotten Alice out of the house.
"She needs to rest." Once again, she gave him a curious look. "What are you doing here?"
He could tell she would have preferred it if the mild-mannered Reverend Muller had been the man standing protectively in Marj's kitchen. It made him wonder how well Alice really knew her, for if ever there was a woman who needed an alpha male, it was Marjorie Piper. Like called to like, and she called strongly to him.
He made sure Alice was looking into his eyes, and bent all his will on making her believe him when he said, "Marj and I were — together — back when she lived in California."
"She never told me about — "
"Of course she told you about me. I'm the cop she dated for a long time. We broke up, then she moved back home before we could reconcile. I don't want to go through another Christmas without her." He willed her to believe that he was in Kennedyville solely to win Marj back.
"But — I thought you were visiting your cousins…"
"I am. One of the things Marj and I discovered we had in common is our connection to this area. I used the visit to Annette and Terry as an excuse to see Marj."
She blinked slowly. "Oh." She sighed, and looked pleased. "That's so romantic. Marj has been so lonely since her father died. And — "Her expression grew a little suspicious again. "But why are you here now?"
"To be with Marj, of course. She shouldn't be alone on this big place. She needs a man. She needs someone to take care of her." He said each word firmly, placing them into Alice's thoughts. "You want her to be happy. You know I'm the one who'll make her happy."
After a short silence, Alice nodded. "You'll make her happy. I'm so pleased for her."
"It's late," he said. "You're tired. I'll see to it that Marj gets to the clinic tomorrow." Give us privacy, he thought at her. Besides, Alice did look tired.
Duty warred with his persuasiveness for a moment, then she said, "Okay."
He could also tell that she was also eager to spread the word about Marj's newfound long lost love. He used that eagerness.
"And now you want to go home." And you have calls to make. "It's late," he added. He took her arm and guided her to the door. "Good night, Alice. Merry Christmas."
As soon as she was gone, Harry went to wake up Marj. After all, he had to tell her all about Taffy's heroically rescuing her — and make her believe it.
 
 
Chapter 7
 
Maybe it had been a dream, but when she woke up Marj couldn't stop thinking about the wolf. She looked up at the ceiling as morning light poured in her bedroom window, and tried to ignore her aches and pains. She remembered that she'd been tackled and manhandled, and bumped her head when she fell — and that Taffy had come to the rescue.
She could feel him lying next to her now, his big, warm body stretched out along her side. He was taking up more room than usual in the bed, but she figured her furry hero deserved a little more spoiling than usual. She fumbled a hand out from under the twisted covers, and reached over to pet his flank. All the while she was thinking about the wolf.
In the dream, the wolf had blue eyes. Which proved that it was a dream, because wolves didn't have blue eyes. Maybe some Arctic wolves did, but she didn't think so.
Well, she couldn't lie abed much longer. A shower would help the aches, and she had chores to do. Besides, Taffy was scratching on the door to get in, so —
So, if Taffy wasn't in her bed… who — or what — was?
Marj cautiously patted the body lying next to her again.
"That feels good," Harry Blethyin said, his lips close to her ear.
Marj would have shot up off the bed if his hand hadn't held her down.
"Careful, you might have a concussion. I'm here to make sure you're okay," he added. "Don't worry; Alice knows I'm here to look after you and that my intentions are mostly honorable."
If Alice knew it, everybody knew it. She glared at him. "Mostly?"
Even as she spoke, she noticed that he was lying on top of the covers, fully dressed in a black turtleneck and jeans. Only his shoes were off. She was wearing plaid pajamas, and remembered Alice helping her into them the night before. It was all very — chaste. She slapped away a feeling of disappointment. A smug glint in his blue eyes told her he was aware of it, anyway. He kissed her on the cheek, then his lips brushed very gently across hers.
She almost groaned in frustration when the brief contact ended.
Out in the hallway, Taffy whined loudly. Harry got up and let the dog in, then leaned against the door frame.
She remembered that he had told her about Taffy's saving her last night. Funny thing was, she had no memory of taking Taffy to the kennel with her. Still, she hugged the dog when he jumped up on the bed and let him lick her face a few times. Before she could push the Lab away, Noel came in and jumped on the end of the bed. Taffy immediately stretched out beside the languid and imperious greyhound, his big pink tongue lolling foolishly.
"He is so in love," Harry said.
"I know — and he looks so stupid."
"Yep. Love'll do that to a man."
"To anyone."
She and Harry shared a quick glance, then looked away even as sparks flew between them.
Marj sat on the edge of the bed, while Harry crossed his arms, looking composed but for his tousled black hair. "I suppose I should thank you for last night…but what were you doing here?" she asked.
"I came to talk to you about my case," he answered.
"And finding the wolf?"
He nodded. "How's your head? Alice wants you to go to a clinic."
"I have chores."
He smiled. "Already done. All creatures great and small have been fed, watered, and petted. You'll find I'm useful to have around."
She eyed him critically, from his smiling, handsome face to his broad shoulders, lean hips, and farther down. She liked the scenery. "Coffee made?" she asked.
"Not yet."
"Well, then — "
He turned toward the hall. "Take a shower. It'll be done by the time you're dressed."
"What about that clinic visit?" Harry asked, when Marj joined him in the kitchen.
She had one bruise in the middle of her forehead and another on her left temple. It infuriated him all over again to see her injuries; made him wish he'd bitten and clawed up her assailants. Sometimes he regretted that his kind imposed such restraints on their animal natures these days. Sometimes it was just no fun being a werewolf.
Marj thanked him for the mug of coffee he offered and the plate of buttered toast. She looked good despite the bruises. Her auburn hair was still damp from the shower, and slicked back it revealed the angles of her heart-shaped face. He caught the warm, female scent of her, along with almonds and cinnamon from her soap and shampoo, and he thought he could spend the whole day breathing her in. Desire for her curled inside him.
"I'm fine," she asserted, after taking a gulp of coffee.
You sure are.
"Are you sure?" he asked quickly.
It was really odd, how their thoughts connected so easily. He wasn't used to this kind of connection with a human. Marj wasn't like anyone he'd ever met, shape-shifter or not. She did things to his emotions, made him want to protect her, almost as much as he wanted to make love to her.
Have sex, he corrected. Lots of sex. The word love implied an emotional commitment he couldn't afford.
Harry poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and sat down opposite her. He noticed that she was looking past him, and turned his head to see that she was looking at the battered and scratched-up back door.
"Thinking of leaving?" he asked.
Marj brought her gaze quickly back to his, and he caught a flicker of suspicion before she managed to mask it. "I have to get to my office soon." She ate a piece of toast.
"You need a lot of help around here."
"I have a part-time hand who comes in once a week. Except he took December off. And my vet tech quit. The local teenagers know I'll pay them for help."
"Phil's mom told me that he used to do chores for you sometimes. He'd already left home when he was here in October with his friend."
She absorbed this for a moment. "His friend's a runaway, too."
He nodded. "I've traced a connection with Clark and four other missing teenagers to Phil Fennick. It looks like they hooked up in an Internet chat room and decided to run off and start a commune in the mountains around here."
This was essentially the truth, leaving out the part about five of the kids being shapeshifters of one kind or another.
She looked worried. "They're living up in the San Jagos in December?"
He nodded. "From everything I've found out, that little mountain range is rugged, inaccessible, and exactly what this little back-to-nature group is looking for. They want an isolated, peaceful place to live together in harmony."
"Do the authorities know about this?"
"Of course," he lied, then added truthfully, "but the authorities' missing persons resources are always spread thin, and at least two of these kids are legally adults. I'm the best there is at finding people, and I've got a personal stake in this hunt. These kids' families want them home for Christmas. I plan to see they get their wish."
She glanced at a wall calendar that featured a photo of kittens. "Then you've got fourteen days."
"It'll be sooner than that. In fact, I figure Christmas is what's going to bring the kids down out of the mountains. And it's going to be easier for me to find them outside the wilderness than in."
Normally, that wouldn't be true — at least with tracking humans. But shapeshifters knew lots of tricks to mask their presence. These kids were deliberately hiding from their own kind, and at least one of them was a genius at disguise. Harry was actually thinking of hiring the kid once he got past the rebel-without-a-clue stage and made it to reasonable adulthood. The fact that Harry had picked up a faint scent of the werefox and werecougar at Marj's had been his only lucky break recently.
"Christmas?" Marj asked.
"Christmas presents," he clarified. "Christmas food. Christmas parties. These kids are going to want to celebrate the holiday. I figure Phil and some of his friends will show up here, to earn money for presents for their girlfriends."
"So, you're going to hang around here waiting for them to show up?"
He nodded. "That's a big part of the plan."
"What if they don't have any Christmas spirit?"
He shook his head. "Who can resist Christmas?"
"Me " she answered.
He didn't believe that for a minute, but her expression told him that she didn't want to talk about it. She also seemed skeptical of his plan.
"And while I'm waiting for the kids to show up at your door, I'll also find your wolf."
This drew a smile from her. He liked making her smile.
"More toast?" he asked.
She shook her head, and winced when she did. "I need to get to the office." She stood. "You go wolf searching."
Three hours later, Marj's headache was finally gone. She had two e-mail responses the to the ad she'd placed for a vet tech three weeks ago, one response the first week, and one just yesterday, and she'd sent off e-mails setting up appointments. She'd also answered several phone messages, and was catching up on a recent professional journal.
The whole time she'd been doing these tasks, her thoughts had been on Harry and the wolf.
Sometimes when she looked into Harry's eyes, she thought she saw the wolf looking back at her from them. An odd thought, but then, she could communicate with animals. Certainly there were things in the world odder than that, weren't there?
And she just couldn't get the dream about the black wolf rescuing her off her mind. She knew that the dream was somehow about Harry. When she tried to remember exactly what had happened when she was attacked, she got a confusing double image of Taffy superimposed over the black wolf. When she thought about it too hard, the headache began to throb in her temples again. So she put it out of her mind for now and went back to wondering how her kitchen door had gotten so badly scratched up if Taffy was outside with her, rather than trying to get out to help her.
Taffy couldn't have opened the door on his own.
Before she could pursue this thought further, the phone rang and the outside office door opened. Harry came in as Marj picked up the phone.
The call was from the sheriff.
Harry perched on the edge of the desk during the short conversation, and asked, "What was that about?" as soon as Marj was off the phone. "Yes, I'm nosy," he added. "It's one of the reasons I'm a detective. That call was about Noel, right?"
She nodded.
"Her owner's been found? Does she have to go back to the dog-racing track? Are you going to break Taffy's heart like that?"
"Will you let me get in a few words?" she countered. "Yes, her owner's been found," she said, after Harry grinned and mimed zipping his lips closed. "Sort of."
He tilted up an eyebrow in question.
The gesture made Marj laugh as she tilted back in her chair. It gave her more distance from Harry, but also a better angle to look up at the big man who towered over her, even while sitting down. The look of eager curiosity made his features even more handsome.
"The thieves told the sheriff what track they stole Noel from. They wanted to use her as breeding stock with another racer they just happened to acquire. I get the impression they're involved in some sort of illegal racing circuit. When Sheriff Murchison contacted the track the greyhound was stolen from, she found out that Noel's owner died of a heart attack a week ago. So, then she hunted down the guy's heirs."
"Who are coming to pick up Noel any minute now?" he asked anxiously. "You aren't going to let her go are you? She deserves a better life than living in a cage."
His passion on the subject was touching. For all that she agreed with him, Marj had to be practical. "I wouldn't have a choice." His look of disappointment pained her. "Fortunately — well, unfortunately, considering that the man who owned her is dead — we don't have to worry about turning her over to his heirs. They have no interest in racing greyhounds and have already turned his other dogs over to a greyhound rescue group. The sheriff was told that they don't care what we do with Noel."
Harry bounced up off the desk, looking as happy as if he'd just been given a marvelous Christmas present. "You're going to keep her!"
Marj rose from her chair. "I didn't say — "
Just then, a car pulled up outside, and Marj had to go to the door. Karen Montgomery and her two kids got out of the car as Marj came out of her office. Harry followed her out and walked across the yard toward the house.
Karen Montgomery's gaze followed him for a moment, and she grinned and briefly fanned herself when she turned back to Marj. "Hi," she said. "The kids have decided they want a pet for Christmas. Is that greyhound you had at the Fete available?"
A proprietary shriek silently went through Marj — both at the question and at the way the woman had looked at Harry. She put a professional smile on her face and briskly stepped forward. "She's not housebroken yet," she said, guiding the family toward the kennel. "Why don't I show you all the well-behaved, adoptable dogs that are available?"
An hour or so later, the Montgomerys drove away with a happy German shepherd in the back of their SUV, and Marj headed for the house.
Harry put his arm around her waist when she reached the porch. "I see you didn't give Noel away. You're going to keep her. Taffy will be pleased."
She relaxed against him. Despite the difference in their sizes, they fit together very well. "I didn't do it just for Taffy." She gave a resigned sigh. "Once I let something into my house, I have trouble letting it go."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, then turned her toward the door. "Come on, I have something to show you."
 
 
Chapter 8
 
"Have you been wolf hunting today?" she asked, as he closed the door behind them.
"I'm saving that for tonight," Harry answered. "Today I worked on my case. Come on, I'll show you." Keeping his arm around her, he led her down the hall to the living room. Taffy and Noel tagged along behind them.
When he'd explored the house that morning, he'd found that the living room had a very unlived-in feel to it. In fact, but for the kitchen and Marj's bedroom, the whole place felt abandoned. Everything was clean and neatly in place, but there wasn't any life to this house. Maybe it was just too big for one person. Maybe Marj's office and the animal shelter were the places her heart called home.
"Now, you're going to wonder what relevance what you're about to see has to luring the kids out of the mountains. I'll explain, but first close your eyes."
He watched to see that she obeyed, then put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the center of the living room. He positioned her so that she'd see the corner between the living room window and the fireplace.
"Okay. You can look now."
Her body stiffened beneath his touch when she opened her eyes. He'd suspected that she be briefly annoyed at his presumption, but he hadn't expected such deep anger. Or the almost physical wave of pain and grief that washed over her and into him.
"Marj?" He pulled her back against him to wrap his arms protectively around her.
"What have you done?" she demanded. "What right did you have — ?"
"It's Christmas," he pointed out. "A house needs a Christmas tree."
He'd found the boxes in a closet. One contained the pieces of an eight-foot artificial pine tree. Other boxes had held Christmas ornaments, candles, lights, and decorations. He'd spent an hour moving some furniture and assembling the tree in the best place to be seen through the window. He'd placed gold and red candles on the coffee table and mantel, then lit them and a fire in the fireplace.
"I put a few of the ornaments on the tree," he told her, "so it would be pretty when you first saw it." She continued to stay stiff and very still in his arms. "You don't like it, do you?"
"You had no right." She choked on a sob. "No right."
"I didn't think you'd mind."
"I hate Christmas!"
"That's not true. You wouldn't have been at the Holiday Fete if you did."
"Alice made me."
"Nobody makes you do anything," he scoffed. "You're too alpha to do as you're told."
"Christmas is okay for other people," she conceded. "I wish them well."
"You give your Taffy eggnog. You named the greyhound Noel."
"That was luck of the draw. I'm indifferent to the holiday for myself. Please take down the tree."
"I want to use it to lure the kids out of hiding."
That stopped her. "How?"
"They'll see it through the window when they come looking for work, and it'll be a reminder of what they're missing."
"That's cynical."
"No. It is a reminder of what they're missing. And it's a reminder for you, too. You need to come back from being so alone and aloof — or you wouldn't be reacting so strongly."
"Let me go."
He cradled her gently instead. Sometimes people needed contact, whether they thought they did or not, whether they were psychic or not.
The connection between him and Marj was stronger than he'd thought. Her grief, and her effort to bury it, rocked him. He turned her, so that they were facing each other, he cradled her head, and guided it to rest on his chest. "Cry if you need to."
"I don't want to." Her words were muffled in his shirt.
"Then tell me all about it. Do whatever helps."
"I hate Christmas." She lifted her head to look up at him, tears bright in he eyes. "I just do."
"Because your father died this time last year."
"He died at the end of November," she answered, a catch in her voice. "How do you know about it?"
"Research. I've read over a year's worth of the town's newspapers since I started on this case, including obituaries."
She accepted the explanation with a grudging nod, and a tear spilled down her cheek. "I don't want to go through — the memories. Christmas — it just reminds me — last year was — Christmas sucks."
"Christmas sucked last year," he said. "This year it's time to start over. Christmas is about birth, beginnings, hope, light in the darkness — all that good stuff. And presents. Don't you want presents? And parties? And lights and music, and trees and all the good stuff."
"You sound like Alice."
"She's a soprano, I'm a baritone. But if she's trying to get you back into the world, she's right." Harry loved life, he loved the world. He ached to show Marj that the world was beautiful again. "Hiding is only a temporary refuge."
"Who says?"
"Me. You need to remember you're alive."
Then he kissed her. There was simply nothing else he could do. What surprised him was the passionate hunger of her response and the way her mouth opened eagerly beneath his. The salt taste of her tears was on his tongue, her lips soft. The heat of her body and the scent of her skin went to his head.
His hands moved down her back, caressing and drawing her nearer. He sensed her surprise at her own reactions, that a part of her was fighting to gain control.
Oh, no, what this woman needed was a good loss of control.
What he needed was her.
He broke the kiss long enough to literally sweep Marj off her feet. She was so much smaller that holding her in his arms was easy. And cradling her against his chest was the most natural thing in the world.
"What the — "
He swung around and started out of the living room. "I'm not making love in front of the dogs," he declared.
Taffy and Noel were standing nearby, gazing at them with the sort of enthusiastic doggy attention that said they wanted to play, too. He almost regretted leaving the living room, with the romantic holiday air he'd created with the tree, the soft candlelight and cozy fire. But they could make love there later. Right now, he wanted the comfortable intimacy of her big, wide bed.
Harry carried her all the way to her bedroom, and Marj was shocked at herself for not protesting once. This man was little more than a stranger! Yet his kiss did something to stem the aching loneliness. She desperately needed his kisses, and more.
She's spent a year in hell, and somehow, Harry held out the promise of heaven.
She shouldn't want him so badly that her body ached with the need. But she'd wanted him since she'd first seen him in Murphy's.
Everything female in her had woken up and caught fire at the first sight of his eagle-nosed profile, the heavy lock of hair falling across his forehead, the sexy slash of his mouth, the wide shoulders and narrow hips. His smile, his confidence… his hands. Good God, what gorgeous, big, competent hands! She'd noticed them from the start. And wanted them on her from the start.
She wanted them on her now.
When he closed the bedroom door and set her on the bed, she pulled him down beside her. He came with a smile, and a burning kiss that left her breathless.
"Touch me," she said, placing his hand on her breast. "Here. Everywhere."
"I will," he promised.
He stroked her then, and slowly peeled her clothes away. His lips followed where his hands explored, and she caressed him. His hard-muscled body was a wonder to her. It was a long time since she'd been with anyone, but even if she'd been more experienced, Harry was still a revelation. She was amazed at how bold she could be with him, how greedy she was to touch and taste and claim every inch of him. She took great pleasure in exploring his body, loosening his clothes as she went. His turtleneck came off first. She liked his chest, with its well-defined muscles and pattern of dark hair that arrowed down in a vee to his flat stomach.
"You work out," she said, and traced her hands over him.
"Nope," he answered. "You are so beautiful," he told her.
"I work out. Well, I lift a lot of bags of animal feed."
Then they kissed for a long time, bodies and mouths melded together for a long, arousing time.
When Harry got up to shed his trousers and underwear, she leaned up on an elbow to watch him strip. It felt deliciously decadent, really, watching a big, gorgeous man taking off his clothes for her.
He turned around, and she had the pleasure of studying his bare backside while he searched through his dropped clothing.
"Ah," he said. When he came back, he was holding a condom packet.
Marj moved beside him and stroked his erection, loving the weight and heat filling her hand, wanting that same feeling inside of her.
Within moments, Harry leaned her back on the bed. He caressed the insides of her thighs, and higher. His fingers danced and teased over her inner folds and clitoris. When she moaned and arched her hips upward, his mouth came down on her. His tongue drew more than moans from her; an orgasm pulsed through her almost instantly. She cried out, and her fingers stroked through his hair.
He moved up her body, sliding skin on skin, then he came inside her. His hardness filled her, the fit completely perfect. They moved together slowly at first, setting up a gentle rhythm, savoring each other, letting the pleasure rise and build.
It wasn't long, though, before his strokes became deeper, faster, and she rose to meet them with a hard-driving need of her own.
The passion building to overwhelm her was more than just physical. He was inside her, their bodies joined, but there was another joining, something wonderful between them that went far beyond physical release. They were —
Mated.
She felt it as well as thought it, and the word and the feeling belonged to both of them. This was a passion that was deeper, richer.
Roaring, rushing sensation overtook her, an explosion so wonderfully intense that she was consumed in long, lingering brightness that faded slowly back into the real world.
"Whoa," was the most coherent thing she could manage after she finally came back into herself.
"Ditto." Harry was a hot, heavy weight on top of her, and his lips were near her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe, sending little lightning flickers of renewed desire from her head to her toes.
"You're good," she said.
He gave a satisfied sigh. "I know."
What might have seemed arrogant and irritating to her before just made her laugh now, a low, breathy, downright dirty laugh.
He kissed her throat just beneath her ear, then moved slowly down her neck, her cheek, her eyelid, her jaw, her shoulder. Each quick, tender touch sent pleasure through her. His hand found her breasts, and her nipples were instantly hard and sensitive against his palm. His lips soon replaced his hand on her breast, and his hand moved down between her legs.
She'd thought herself completely satisfied, sated, melted with happy exhaustion. But within only a few moments, she was alive with desire all over again.
"I'm good " he said. "You're better."
Then they made love all over again.
 
 
Chapter 9
 
"You hungry?" Harry asked, as they shared the shower. He was washing her hair and taking great pleasure in the fact that Marj was practically purring.
"Hmmm?" She sighed in utter contentment. Her back was pressed against his chest, and he felt the sigh all the way down his body. Just that small movement was enough to arouse him again.
"Hungry?" he asked over the rush of warm water. "For supper?" Not to make love again; not just yet.
He had to keep his head. The night was young, and he still had work to do.
"I'm starving," Marj said, slowly coming up out of the fog of sensual pleasure. She sighed, with resignation this time. "And the animals need taking care of."
"You need to hire some help."
"Don't think I haven't tried."
They maneuvered around so that she could duck under the showerhead and rinse the cinnamon-scented shampoo out of her hair. Cinnamon was perfect for her, Harry thought, with her dark auburn hair.
They climbed out of the shower, and within a few minutes they were dressed. He helped her with chores, and when they went back to the house, he rummaged in the pantry and the refrigerator and made a cheese omelet while Marj sat on the floor, playing with puppies and kittens. Taffy and Noel demanded her attention as well, and Harry took great pleasure in the amount of affection Marjorie Piper had to give.
The more he knew about her, the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know, and the more he wanted to be with her. Which was terrifying.
He had to find those kids soon and make his escape, or this was only going to get worse. He was werewolf, she was human. It hardly ever worked out. There were physical risks to consider, cultural problems. Family pressure alone kept most matings between were and mortals from really having a chance.
One of the reasons the adolescent group was missing was that a werecougar boy had hooked up with a human girl. Of course his parents, and his entire clan, were utterly opposed to the relationship. Harry's job was to bring the boy home.
He's just a kid, Harry thought. He'll get over her.
Just as Harry would get over Marj. They had something special, something he feared he'd miss terribly. But he'd get over it.
Marj looked up, sniffed. "Is the omelet burning?"
Harry quickly turned his attention back to the stove. A few minutes later the meal was on plates, and she'd put the tired puppies and kittens back in their crates.
"Hope I find them homes by Christmas," she said as she took her plate from Harry.
"Speaking of Christmas…" he said, and led the way back to the living room.
The candles and fire had burned down a bit, but the place still had a nice holiday glow to it. She gave the tree an almost tolerant glance. She did smile, at last, at the array of candles, and turned that smile on him.
His head was reeling from it as they sat down next to each other on the couch. This position left them vulnerable to two tall dogs, but they fought off Taffy's and Noel's begging, and laughed together while racing to finish eating before the dogs wore them down.
"Do they get to lick the plates?" Harry asked when they were finished.
"No."
"They should, because it's almost Christmas."
"Don't spoil my dogs," she admonished. She got up, and he followed her back to the kitchen. "You cooked; I'll clean. Want to dry the dishes?"
This domesticity was far too much fun. "I'd love to, but I have to go wolf hunting now." Harry took his leather jacket off the coat rack by the kitchen door and shrugged into it. "I think it's best if I conduct this search mostly at night. Not only will the animal be more active at night, but the less the locals see someone skulking around the area, the less suspicious they'll be."
She accepted his explanation and offered him a kiss before he left. He enjoyed the kiss so much that he almost confessed that he was her wolf, so that he could keep on kissing her and wouldn't have to leave.
In the end, it was Marj who nudged him toward the door. "Good hunting," she told him.
The words caught at his heart. She didn't know it, but she'd just said the same words a werewolf's mate did when sending him out into the night.
He had to swallow hard around the tightening of his throat before he could say, "Thanks," and walk out the door.
I know that butt.
The thought came to Marj as she was reaching toward a cabinet to put away a plate. The memory was vivid, and overwhelming. The dish crashed to the floor out of her numbed hand. Taffy yelped, and jumped away.
Marj was so stunned that she had to hold on to the edge of the counter with both hands to keep from sinking to her knees as the memory washed up out of her subconscious. She'd only encountered the naked man a couple of days ago, yet all thought of him had been pushed out of her mind.
It felt like it had been deliberately nudged away, overlaid, covered. Her awareness of the process was almost tactile. As if someone as psychic as she was had used his mental ability to rearrange her thinking. Or at least to try. She knew how strange this seemed, but she didn't doubt the truth of it.
He had done it.
"I know that butt."
She closed her eyes, and the memory of watching him move around her bedroom in all his glorious nudity was superimposed over the image of the naked man lying inside the wolf's cage.
They were one and the same.
She remembered thinking that Harry was too big to have been trapped in the cage, before she stopped thinking about the naked man at all. Had Harry put the thought about his size into her head as a diversion?
She settled cross-legged on the tiled floor, amid the debris of the broken plate, and rubbed suddenly aching temples. With her eyes closed, she once again called up the memory of how Taffy had rescued her from her two attackers.
Once again, the image of Taffy superimposed itself over the sight of the wolf's glowing blue eyes, the softness of its fur brushing her face, its solid weight bearing her down.
The image of the loyal Labrador retriever made perfect sense. But she knew in her gut, and in her extra senses, that that wasn't what had happened.
As Taffy came up and sat down next to her, Marj reached over and put her arm around his neck. She felt his concern, and the constant love for her that was so much a part of him. Becoming aware of his emotions made her realize that Taffy might have his own memories of what happened that night.
What good was having the ability to talk to animals, if she didn't call upon it when needed? She didn't normally try to pick up more than an animal's current emotional state. Actually, she didn't generally try, it just happened. But she could pick up images and memories if she concentrated hard enough and the incident was sufficiently traumatic to stick in the animal's mind. She could only hope that the attack registered deeply in Taffy's mind.
And when she was finished with him, she had an entire kennelful of witnesses that she could interrogate.
Harry was aware of the cougar's scent on far western side of the ranch even before he made the shift to wolf form.
He took deep breaths of the cool, dry night air as he took off his clothes, folded them, and tucked them between a bush and the base of the large boulder at the entrance of Marj's long drive.
The cougar prowling out in the darkness was no ordinary one, either: there was another shapeshifter in the vicinity. Harry hoped it was one of the missing kids, but somehow he doubted it. Because he thought that the reason he was having so much trouble tracking down his quarry was due to the camouflage talent of the were-cougar youth.
Harry stretched his hands over his head and arched his back before dropping down onto hands and knees. He ignored the sharpness of the winter wind on his bare skin and let the change come slowly, let it be a sensual pleasure rather than a rush of necessity. Making love with Marj had put him in the mood for all the sensual pleasure he could get.
The distant scent became even more obvious when Harry was in wolf form, and easily recognizable. Harry was annoyed at the delay in his search, but he couldn't put off tracking the other were, since it was his client, Mr. Losimba.
He was glad that the trail led quite a distance across the rocky valley, away from the buildings on Marj's hilltop. The last thing he wanted was the Losimba kid's family marking up the territory Harry was using as bait.
When he found Losimba, the werecougar was perched regally on top of a rock outcrop, his gold fur frosted by moonlight. Harry came to a halt and took a moment to appreciate the pose.
Then he switched from wolf to human form. All were-folk were telepathic, but it was easier to communicate mind to mind with humans than across forms. Wolf to wolf, or any other canine type, was natural for him, but canine to feline was just — wrong.
Harry ignored the sudden blast of cold, along with a natural distaste for cats, and said, "You're lovely. But if a rancher gets a look at you up there, you're going to get shot."
The Losimbas were as urban as most shapeshifters these days. Normally, when werefolk went out into the wild to take on their animal forms, they did so on large tracts of wilderness property owned and guarded by the Council of Clans. If you wanted to run free, you paid an annual fee for the privilege.
Losimba snarled at Harry, then shifted in a blur of gold from cat to human form. He remained seated on the flat rock perch, looking no less proud and regal as a man than as a mountain lion. Instead of snarling, he sneered.
"There are many reasons I have no use for humans. Their lust to murder all predators, including each other, is only one of them."
Losimba was very much a political animal, and an arch-conservative one, at that. The last thing Harry wanted, especially since it was freezing out here, was to get into philosophical discussion.
"Yeah. Well. Whatever. What are you doing here?" Harry asked. "Other than interfering with my investigation."
"I want results." Losimba jumped down, light and graceful, from his perch. "I want my son back."
"And the other kids?"
"Yes. Of course." Then he sneered, "Except for the human. Something has to be done about her."
Harry disliked the ominous tone. "The Council asked me to find them, that's all. No violence is intended toward that girl."
"She can be made to forget, if enough pressure is applied."
"If the boy's mated with the human — "
"It doesn't bear thinking about," Losimba cut him off sharply. "My breed doesn't associate with that kind." He sniffed disdainfully, "while you obviously enjoy wallowing in the human sewer. There's human stench all over you."
Harry caught himself growling deep in his throat and longing to rip the werecougar's throat out. He didn't let himself rise any farther to the bait, though. Losimba was famously old school in his attitudes. Except that the anti-human attitudes were really only the product of the last couple of generations. What had started out as a way to avoid extinction had turned into prejudice and snobbery in many werefolk. Those were games Harry didn't play.
"Why aren't you searching for the children?" Losimba demanded. "What progress have you made?"
Harry understood a parent's worry, but he didn't like Losimba's arrogance. He also didn't like the fact that the other were was here. When he took on a case, the area of the hunt became his territory. There wasn't room in his territory for another alpha, never mind the other shapeshifter's breed.
"Did the Council send you to oversee my methods? Or are you trying to screw this up on your own?"
"Why aren't you doing anything?" Losimba demanded. "You've had weeks — "
"And in those weeks, I've tracked the kids down to this area." He pointed back toward the buildings far away on the hilltop. "To that place. All I can do now is watch and wait. If this was a human missing person case, I could use these more." He tapped his nose, then touched an ear. "Our kind are harder to track than humans."
"We're better than humans."
"Our senses are slightly different, and some humans come close to us in their physical and psychic abilities. And this isn't the time or place to discuss breed differences. I don't know about you, but my balls are freezing off."
"You damn lobos are sentimental fools. You'll let the humans domesticate you and drag the rest of us down with you."
Once again, Harry fought off the urge to mix it up with this guy. He reminded himself that Losimba was worried about his kid. People under that kind of stress often lashed out because it was the only way to deal with their frustration. Or, Losimba was just a jerk.
"Stay out of my way," he told the werecougar. "Even better, go home."
"I want action! I want news."
"I've told you all I know, and all I'm doing. This kind of hunt takes patience."
Losimba suddenly looked sad, and tired. "I promised his mother I'd have him home by Christmas."
Harry didn't bring up the fact that Christmas was a human holiday, even though the celebration was one of the things that united werefolk with their shape-challenged cousins. Harry wondered what kind of miracle it would take to get that peace on earth, goodwill toward others thing going between the different sides of the evolutionary divide.
He was tempted him to ask Losimba if he'd welcome a human daughter-in-law into his home for Christmas dinner. But the answer might be a not-too-flippant as Christmas dinner; and then Harry really would go after the werecougar, tooth and claw.
"Go home," he said to Losimba. "Don't interfere. I will get those kids home."
Still tense, Losimba glared at Harry for a while out of tawny eyes. Then he shifted from man to cat with such graceful fluidity that even Harry had to admire his shifting abilities. All admiration was off, however, when Losimba then snarled at him once more and stalked proudly away.
Harry studied how Losimba managed to fade his scent to barely a trace as the other were disappeared from sight. Any information he could get would help in his hunt for the kids. The blocking was of a psychic nature, sending out a mental camouflage signal aimed specifically at the thought processes of other shapeshifters. It was a variation on how shapeshifters mentally influenced humans not to notice anything out of the ordinary they witnessed.
"He's good," Harry acknowledged. "But his son's better."
Then he changed back into a huge black wolf and went for a run, reveling in the power, the speed, the sharp senses of his animal form. Most importantly, he took huge pleasure in being warm.
But after a while, a new sensation caught hold of him and made him turn his steps toward the hilltop. Something called him back toward Marj. After only a few hours away, he was already lonely for her. Instinct told him he was going home — and that bone-deep belief scared the conscious part of him to death.
He found the boulder on the edge of the drive with no problem. He also had no problem detecting Taffy's scent, or Marj's. She and the dog had been here while he was gone. He supposed that she'd taken the dog for a walk, maybe hoping to spot the wolf, or him in human shape. Maybe Taffy had gotten a whiff of the clothing left by the boulder and come over to investigate. It was probably all perfectly innocent… and it filled Harry with dread. His misgivings grew worse when he couldn't find his stashed clothing anywhere near the boulder.
The instinctive part of his mind told him to Run! Now! Any little breach of normal safety precautions triggered a fight-or-flight response in his kind. But the logical part, which should have been agreeing with the instinctive part, was telling him he needed to talk to Marj. That he needed to explain to her. That he just needed Marj.
Okay, he needed her. But he wasn't going to show up at her door either as a wolf, or naked as a jaybird. He had left two other sets of clothing, identical to the ones he'd lost, secreted around her property in case of any emergency. The first thing he was going to do was head to the barn, to don the clothes he'd left under a stack of feed bags.
He crossed the yard silently, clinging to shadows. The area was full of the crisscrossing scents of animals and of Marjorie, of himself, and other people from many different days and times. He could detect no immediate danger.
He was at the barn door and getting ready to change to human so he could open it, when he realized it was a trap. He felt Marj's anger and whirled around. Following the direction of her emotions, he spotted her sitting on top of the cab of her pickup truck. With a tranquilizer rifle aimed at him.
She fired even as he sprang toward her, then fired again.
Two spots of pain blossomed along Harry's side. He went down hard on the cold ground. As the world went dark, his last thoughts were, Oh no, not again!
 
 
Chapter 10
 
"Tranquilizer darts."
"Yep," Marj answered.
"That's the second time this week, dammit."
Marj watched warily as Harry sat up from where he'd been lying on the concrete barn floor, wrapped the red blanket around his chest, and glared at her. She was sitting on top of an old trunk, her legs tucked beneath her and an old quilt covering her lap. All the overhead lights were blazing, and the wide doors were closed and locked. It was just the two of them, as she'd left Taffy and Noel locked in the house. There was no way she was risking her dogs' safety around a wolf.
She also noticed that he gauged the distance between them and looked at the rifle she cradled on her lap. Harrison Blethyin was not a happy camper.
"How's your head?" she asked.
"Pounding. Brutally, viciously pounding."
"I can do something about that."
"You've already done quite enough."
She guessed she had, but she'd dragged the wolf in out of the cold and kept him warm with a blanket while he slept off the drugs and turned slowly back to the shape of a man. And she hadn't used as strong a tranquilizer as the men who'd shot him. She had questions about those men, and Harry's involvement with them. But there was another matter to deal with first.
"You're a werewolf," she said.
At first his expression was a mixture of wariness and anger, but gradually he began to look a little bit annoyed. Maybe it was just the headache. Eventually, he said, "Don't get all hysterical about it, or anything."
Well, at least he didn't try to deny it. What did he expect from her? Did he think the appropriate response would be to scream, to panic? To call the tabloids?
"I could exchange the darts for silver bullets, if it would make you feel more threatened," she suggested. "Besides, I had hysterics when I first figured it out. Should I have videotaped it for you?"
"You sound bitter," he said, as though it concerned him. "I don't know what you have to be bitter about."
"You lied to me."
He rubbed his jaw, dark with stubble at the moment. He slowly got to his feet, still wrapped in the blanket. He kept his gaze on the rifle, and moved slowly toward a shelf stacked with twenty-pound bags of animal feed. "I'm going to get dressed now."
"Your stuff's not there."
He dropped the blanket as he turned around, looking annoyed.
She just looked. She already knew he was gorgeous. After all, she'd seen him naked in a cage, and in her bedroom. She'd watched the slow, graceful transformation from wolf to human form while he was unconscious. Perhaps that should have disturbed her — but it had been beautiful; like a kind of art. And here he was naked again, and looking at her with angry sparks in his blue eyes. Sparks went through her, as well — she couldn't help it when she was around him. She wasn't going to try to deny how much physical attraction she felt for this — man? For the man-shaped part of him?
"You found my clothes in here, too? How?"
His angry question refocused her attention. "Taffy found the clothes out by the drive. Then I showed them to Bailey. He's a beagle/bloodhound mix. Once I told him what to look for, he had a ball."
"Once you told him?"
She found it odd that he sounded suspicious and skeptical. Then, again, why did she assume he knew everything about her? It seemed like she'd known him forever, but that wasn't true at all. And most of what she did know was false.
"Are you going to let me stand here and freeze to death, woman?"
"Are you going to turn into a wolf and attack me?"
"Of course not!"
His indignation slapped against her psychic senses, and she believed that he believed what he said. Which would have to do. His folded clothes were lying next to her on the trunk. She nipped back the quilt and tossed shirt, pants, socks, and shoes to him.
She continued to watch him closely while he dressed, and when he pushed aside some of the bags and perched on the storage shelf.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Now you tell me what's really going on."
He stared at her, his expression blank. But she could feel his thoughts teasing and tickling around hers, trying to get into her head and change what she believed and remembered. She didn't like his reasons, but she welcomed the connection. She'd never shared this kind of communication with a human before. Heck, if there wasn't a wolf part of him, maybe she wouldn't be able to do it.
Stop that! she finally told him, and conjured up a mental image of her smacking the big, black wolf on the nose.
Harry blinked. Then he threw back his head and laughed. "You're not afraid of me, are you? Not one little bit. I'm a werewolf, you know," he added seriously.
"And I'm Dr. Doolittle," she answered.
She's not scared, Harry realized. And she's not freaked. She was, in fact, incredibly accepting of the fact that he was a very different type of being than she was. It didn't bother her that he could turn into a dangerous animal. She accepted him for who he was, and knowing that she did filled his heart, and his head, with — her.
He could also tell that her knowledge and acceptance of his otherness did not stop her from being really pissed off at him.
"You want explanations," he said.
She settled the rifle back across her lap. "How can you tell?"
As he was faster and stronger than a human, he could take the weapon away from her at any time. But he wasn't going to strip away a prop that made her feel safe. He didn't blame her for not trusting him just yet.
Harry rubbed a sore spot over his ribs. "I really hate getting shot."
"At least I only use tranquilizers. My neighbors wouldn't be so humane."
"You were worried that a rancher would take a shot at me?"
"Of course. That's why I hired you to find — you," she finished with an annoyed grimace. "I suppose you found that really funny?"
He shook his head. "No. I found it sweet. And useful," he admitted. "I have been using you, but for the very best of reasons. I really am a missing persons — "
"Werewolf."
"Which gives me the perfect skills for the job. But it's my being a werewolf you want to know about first. I can feel your curiosity. You want explanations, assurances, background — all that stuff that's supposed to be secret. Stuff that has to be secret," he added. "We only have two choices in dealing with humans that learn it."
He waited for her to ask what those two choices were.
"Tell me about werewolves," was all she said.
She was not paying attention to consequences. Harry didn't understand that, because Marj struck him as the sensible sort. He supposed that learning that the myths and legends of the supernatural world were real could shake even sensible people into reckless behavior.
She knew he was a real shapeshifter, and had proved that he couldn't make her forget. That left him with those two choices — and he already knew that he wasn't going to kill her.
He sighed. "Okay. You know all the ancient tribal stories about shamans taking on animal forms?" She nodded. "Well, a long, long time ago those shapeshifting abilities were a well-known and accepted part of the world. I'm talking prehistoric times. We evolved as humans, among humans. We were people with psychic gifts that could also be manifested with the physical ability to take on the form of certain totem animals — wolves, bears, foxes, tigers — just about any mammalian predators. The ability to turn into wolves has always been the most prevalent. But as humans stopped living in small tribes of hunter-gatherers and settled into farming communities, they didn't have any need for predators in their midst anymore. The were-folk were driven out. We ended up banding together into our own tribes and mating only with our own kinds. So, what was originally a rare mutation for a specific psychic gift turned into dominant traits in our offspring."
"So, you have to be born a werewolf? What about the legends of people being becoming werewolves by being bitten by one?"
Harry shrugged with discomfort. "Yeah, well, unfortunately that can happen. None of our scientists have been able to figure that out yet. But we've only really had the ability to study the infectious properties of — "
"Werewolves have scientists?" she interrupted.
This was not the time to explain to her that most of the real research into the scientific aspects of supernatural phenomena was being carried out by vampires. Information about his own kind would do for the time being.
"There are werefolk involved in the research. We go to college," he added. "We're not animals, you know."
Marj laughed. "Don't get your tail in a twist. Go on."
He laughed, too, delighted to hear such a common werewolf joke from this human woman. Of course, it was probably a common sort of joke for a vet who ran an animal shelter, too. Either way, it reinforced the connection between them.
"I wonder," he said, "if you would let me make love to you right now, knowing what I am."
That wasn't what he'd meant to say, but suddenly it was very important for him to know. He was almost scared to look at her, afraid of seeing disgust openly on her face. Or, even worse, her trying to hide it.
But she looked at him steadily, thoughtfully. Her emotions rippled around her. He picked up brief, overlaying shades of surprise, curiosity, anger, impatience, and lust. Harry especially liked that deep, rich ribbon of lust that wound through everything else Marj was feeling.
"So, you still like me," he said. "I can feel it, even if you won't answer my question."
"Because it's not a relevant question for the moment. It's a matter of trust," she said. "Liking has nothing to do with whether or not I should trust you."
"I'm very trustworthy."
"You didn't tell me you were a werewolf." She made a face at her own words. "Okay, if I were a werewolf, I wouldn't spread the news around, either. The world isn't safe for the radically different. I'm not forthcoming about my own — peculiarities."
"There is nothing at all peculiar about you, lovely Marjorie."
She waved off his flattery. "Tell me more about werewolves — or should I say werefolk?"
"Werefolk. We are separate breeds, but we all answer to rules set up by an elected group Council. The Council is very conservative. For the last fifty or sixty years they've made it the priority for all memory and belief in werefolk to be wiped out of human consciousness. It'll be safer for us if people don't believe we exist."
"People don't believe werewolves exist."
"See, it's working."
She didn't even crack a smile. "It would be dangerous for your kind if you were discovered. Everybody knows the legends, and the horror movies and books about how people get bitten and turn into bloodthirsty monsters during the full moon. That sort of bad publicity could get real werefolk killed."
"Precisely."
"Do you turn into a ravening monster during the full moon?"
Harry curbed his indignation. "Not my style," he told her. "But the legends have a basis in reality. People who are bitten by weres do change physiologically. What's normal for someone born as a were manifests more like a disease — at least initially — with someone who's been bitten. While a natural-born werewolf can change almost anytime, without pain or difficulty, a bitten develops a monthly cycle that forces the change. The process is not only painful, but it makes them crazy. The animal self takes control, and it's vicious, hurting, and terrified. Eventually, most bittens will get control of their minds and bodies and blend in to normal shapeshifter society. If they're protected and cared for from the first, the transition is an easier process."
"So, you're saying that the stories of werewolves as monsters are strictly about people who've been bitten and gone on a rampage?"
"There are good and bad people in every society. I will say that most of the legends of violence come from the bittens. We're trying to kill the legends, which is why the council has encouraged closing off our society to outsiders. There's been a long moratorium on taking human mates. Biting has been forbidden." He shook his head. "It's helped keep our secrets, but it's been hell on our gene pool. Some of the younger people are getting rebellious about it. Which brings me to why I'm looking for the runaways."
Good Lord, what had he just said? It was all very right to tell Marj some basic stuff. But he had no right to give away information about anyone else. Confiding in her came way too naturally.
Marj heard Harry's mental OOPS loud and clear. She believed he was searching for something, and he claimed it was runaways. Runaway what? Werefolk? If that were true —
The realization came to her with a start. "Phil Fennick's a werewolf!"
"Werefox." Harry gave a deep sigh. "I've already told you too much, but I do want your help to get the case closed safely, and soon. The kids I'm looking for are a pretty mixed bag of radical hippie kits, kittens, and cubs."
"Radical hippies? Uh, the sixties were over about thirty years ago. Hippies have grandchildren now."
Her parents had actually met at some rock concert back in the sixties, and they'd traveled around the country in a VW Beetle. She'd seen photos of them in long hair, bell-bottoms, and fringed vests. They had ended up as very successful lawyers, then retired young to raise the only child they had late, out in the clean, open, independent West. And they'd raised her to be independent, to respect the environment, to celebrate rather than to fear the differences among people, to follow her love of animals wherever it led her. They'd certainly encouraged her to develop her psychic gift and never to fear it.
Marj supposed that qualified them as clinging to their original hippie ideals. And how she missed them! It was a pity that they'd never lived to see grandchildren. Not that she was likely to produce any, in any case. Because the one man she was insanely attracted to had turned out to be werewolf. And Harry had already told her that werewolves didn't take human mates.
One-night stands, as she already knew. Brief liaisons. But not lifetime partners.
Damn.
"You know the generation problems humans went through back then?" Harry asked, drawing her out of her reverie.
She pulled her attention back to the present, because moment to moment was all she was going to experience with Harrison Blethyin. "Yes."
"That kind of upheaval is what's going on among my people now. I have to find the kids before they do something stupid — like out themselves. Or freeze to death up in the mountains."
"Freeze to death? Can't they stay in animal form and survive in the wild?"
He threw back his head and laughed. "Modern kids? I don't think so. I meant what I said about their being lured out of hiding for Christmas presents and parties. Everything I told you about my methods of finding them is true." He tapped his long, elegant nose. "This is not much good in trying to track down my own kind."
They sat across from each other in silence as Marj absorbed everything he'd told her. She couldn't help but believe that he was essentially telling her the truth. But she was still confused and suspicious.
"What about Noel?" she asked. "What about the men who stole her? Why did they shoot you? What have you got to do with them?"
"Not a damn thing," he answered. "I was just out for a run that night. The same way you were just coming home from a party." He hopped down from his perch on the shelf, stretched, and yawned, then held his hand out toward her. "Look at it this way: without those jokers, we never would have met. It's late. Let's go to bed."
Marj considered how easy he was about continuing to fit into her life. What should she do? Tell him to go? Where, back to the Fennicks? To the motel in town? It was too late for him to go banging on either door.
"There are four bedrooms in the house besides mine," she said, getting to her feet. "Go pick one while I lock the rifle back in the kennel."
 
 
Chapter 11
 
Harry woke up the next morning feeling resentful at being exiled from Marj's bed, no matter how comfortable the one he'd chosen was. He'd slept in a second-floor bedroom at the back of the house, directly over Marj's first-floor bedroom.
At least she hadn't made him sleep in the kennel. Or brought the rifle into her room with her. She wasn't afraid of him, and that was heartening. He'd tried to bolster her trust by keeping away from her, when he wanted to do anything but. He'd been aware of her nearby while he tried to get to sleep, like any male could feel his mate, and it had been difficult to stay all platonic and safe.
Alpha called to alpha, dammit! And that woman called to him, even while she slept. When he finally got to sleep, she called to him in his dreams. He hoped she hadn't slept any better than he had.
The dogs were waiting outside the bedroom when he opened the door. Taffy's tail thumped enthusiastically on the floor as Harry appeared. Noel stepped forward and butted her soft head against his thigh.
Harry paused to give them a friendly pat and scritch. Then he suddenly recalled some things Marj had done and said about her own relationship to animals. His curiosity piqued, he settled down on the worn hallway carpet, the dogs surrounded him. He continued stroking Taffy and Noel while he connected with them on a deeper level, asking their opinions of Marjorie Piper.
"You really are Dr. Doolittle."
"You've been talking to the animals — about how I talk to the animals," Marj answered.
She was standing by the sink with a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. She hadn't heard him enter the kitchen, but she'd felt his presence, had anticipated his arrival more with each step he took. She was looking out the kitchen window at a faint dusting of snow covering the landscape below. She loved the view down across the valley. The jagged peaks of the San Jago Mountains rose in the distance, densely covered in pine and aspen below the snowline.
It was a beautiful, sunny winter morning, yet her usual pleasure in the view was tinged with loneliness. The world was so very wide and empty to her today.
Then Harry spoke, and her heart sang.
He put his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. For a moment she lost all awareness of everything but his warmth, his size, his presence. The world stopped being lonely, or empty, and she leaned back against him. She closed her eyes on a heartfelt, contented sigh.
"You listened in on our conversation upstairs?"
"Not exactly. I felt a kind of buzzing excitement coming from Taffy's direction. It's hard to explain."
"I know. Do you know how wonderful your talent is? How special it makes you?"
His words went to her heart, but she answered, "I know how weird it makes me to other people."
"Not to me. That smells good."
She didn't mind when he reached up and took the coffee from her hands. It was her second cup, anyway. And she wasn't weird to him. That was worth far more than a cup of coffee.
She couldn't, and wouldn't, let the moment last. But she let it go on for a while. He smelled good, and he felt good, very male. She felt very protected. She told herself that enjoying this sensation was detrimental to her independence, but didn't try to deny the arousal that built second by second, with sweet, steadily growing heat.
"I'm making your bones melt, aren't I?" he asked after a few minutes.
She tilted her head back to get a look at his face, but mostly got was a view of his strong, square jaw. "You are so very sure of your effect on women, aren't you?"
He set the empty mug on the counter and turned her to face him. "Yeah."
"Animal magnetism?"
"I'm just a hot guy."
"Yes," she agreed.
He grinned, and for the first time, she noticed he had dimples. He was so attractive that it hurt, which was why she decided that the moment was at an end, even as he bent his head to kiss her.
When she moved sideways, he straightened and let her go.
"I made oatmeal," she said. "Do you eat oatmeal? Or are you strictly a carnivore?"
"Oatmeal's fine. I don't do the Atkins thing." When she reached into an overhead cabinet for a bowl, he stepped up behind her. "Let me get that."
She sat at the table while Harry served his own breakfast. After setting his bowl down at the table, he went back to the counter and brought mugs of coffee back for both of them.
When their hands touched as she took the mug, he said, "You know I'm going to kiss you eventually, don't you?"
"Eat your breakfast." She glanced at the cushions in the corner, where Taffy and Noel were now lying side by side. "Or I'll feed it to the dogs."
"Okay," he said, and pulled her up and out of her chair.
The next thing Marj knew, they were holding each other tightly, and their mouths were pressed hungrily together.
The kitchen, her worries, all the world went away. All that existed was where they touched, and where they touched they blended in a flash of shared desire.
Marj had no idea how long they'd been kissing before she became aware of Taffy barking.
The dog's excitement finally got through to her, his emotions translating to Here! Here! Someone's here!
Just as this registered, a loud knock sounded on the back door.
Harry spun away from her, and swore.
Marj leaned her hands on the kitchen table to steady herself. Her body raged with need, her head spun — and the knock sounded again. She pulled herself together enough to psychically tell Taffy to shut up. Then she crossed the kitchen and flung open the door.
A pretty, nervous-looking girl stood on the back porch. "Dr. Piper?" she asked.
Marj stared at her. "Yes?"
"I'm Heather Adams. You had an appointment to see me this morning. About the vet tech job?"
Marj had completely forgotten about the job interview. She forced a smile now. "Of course. My office is just across the — "
"Come in, Heather," Harry said, stepping up behind her. He put a hand on Marj's shoulder. "I think Heather would be more comfortable talking to you in the living room." He maneuvered Marj away from the doorway and ushered the young woman inside. "Here. Let me take your coat."
Marj didn't think the young woman noticed him holding the fleece jacket close to his face and taking several deep breaths before he hung it on the coatrack. Marj was briefly surprised, then she remembered who he really was and what he was here for. He was barking up the wrong tree, though, if he thought a job applicant would be one of his runaways.
Then she almost laughed at the look he gave her, realizing that he'd caught her barking up the wrong tree thought.
Living room, he thought at her. Christmas tree. Warmth. Coziness. Longing for home.
"Come on into the living room," she said to Heather. She smiled at Harry. "Why don't you bring us some tea and cookies?"
"That went well," Harry said, after Marj returned from showing Heather around the property. When Marj gave him a slightly annoyed look, he gave her a reassuring smile.
"Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do," she replied.
He heard the girl's car start and drive away, and fought down the hunter's urge to start the pursuit immediately.
He held his hands up in mock confusion. "What?"
"Why were you in the living room while I was talking to Heather?"
"I finished decorating the tree," he answered. "It needed to be done. Besides, did you see how wistfully she looked at it? That girl is going to go back to her boyfriend and tell him she wants a real Christmas."
"That girl isn't a werewolf — a werefolk."
"Oh, and how can you tell?"
"Because the dogs barked. I've noticed that animals stay quiet when you're around. Heather's one of the people who e-mailed me about the job."
"You're an observant woman, Dr. Piper," he said proudly. "But do you think werefolk don't use e-mail?"
"Not if they're hiding out in the mountains."
"We live in a wireless society, Marjorie. Modern kids might want to live free and furry, but they're going to have their laptops and PDAs with them. Or maybe she saw your ad pinned on the bulletin board at Murphy's store when she came in for supplies and used the Internet connection in the motel lobby to apply. I didn't expect them to let their one human member come into town."
"She seemed quite independent to me," Marj said. "I don't think anyone lets her do anything."
"We werefolk males are always attracted to strong women."
"Why wouldn't they want Heather to come into town? And are you really sure she's involved with your runaways?"
He chuckled. "There's werecougar scent all over that girl. You know what cats are like when it comes to claiming what's theirs. Like this." He drew her close to him and rubbed his cheek against her throat and shoulder.
She leaned into his touch. "Keep that up, and I'm going to start purring."
"We'd be more than purring," Harry said, and reluctantly made himself step back. He did stroke her face with the back of his hand one more time, enjoying the way they so easily aroused each other. "I have to go."
He felt her wanting to reach for him. But she also understood that he had a duty to perform and a need to hunt.
"Where?" she asked. "Following Heather? I thought you said you couldn't — "
"She's human. I can follow any human scent, and she's leaving me a trail that will lead straight to her boyfriend and all the others. Gotta go." he said.
He gave her a swift kiss, and was out the door.
It was only after he was miles away from Marj's place that it occurred to him that she hadn't asked him if he would be back, and he hadn't told her that he would be.
He hoped that wasn't a big mistake.
 
 
Chapter 12
 
"How does he think he's going to get those kids home?" Marj said as she rubbed the ears of Bailey, the bloodhound/beagle mix. They were long ears on his short body, and helped make him look silly, and funny, and cute. She couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to place him in a home yet — though she'd miss him when he was gone.
She was going to miss Harry when he was gone, too. She missed him already.
That was one of the reasons she was in the kennel, giving the animals some TLC. She had affection to give, and these lost, unwanted animals were quick to appreciate it. A more practical reason for spending time holding, petting, and playing with them was to socialize them, of course.
But she wasn't feeling practical right now. She was upset, and being with the dogs and cats was comforting. She'd taken them out of the pens one by one for exercise and play. She was sitting on the concrete floor in the center of the kennel, with the excellent tracker Bailey on her lap.
Marj had been worrying and wondering about Harry's dilemma since he left a couple hours ago. It was all very well and good for him to track the kids down to their lair, or commune, but then what?
Not that it was any of her business, she supposed. She had her own worries, her own responsibilities.
But —
What was Harry going to do when he found those kids? Talk them down out of the mountains? Handcuff — or possibly leash — them? And what would being rounded up like that do after they were carted off home? Why, make them want to run away again, of course.
"You can catch more flies with honey, can't you?" she asked Bailey, who was more interested in her continuing to scratch his belly than in inane questions from a human. "I bet those teenagers would rather have honey than lectures."
An idea occurred to her, and she turned the dog back onto his feet. "Bailey, old boy," she said, thinking what she wanted at his doggie brain as she spoke. "Remember how you helped me find Harry's things before? You know his scent. He can't track werewolves, but you can. You and I are going to find Harry."
But first she was going to go to Murphy's store to do a little shopping.
"Hi, there "Marj said.
Still in wolf form, Harry had heard her and the dog coming, but he'd kept his gaze on the shack, tent, and SUV occupying the hollow below this stand of trees. He was very glad that to be upwind of the hollow, especially when he became aware of the approaching human and dog.
Since he couldn't do anything but growl or howl at her in his current form, Harry closed his eyes and willed himself back into his human shape. He could have used telepathy, but it was so much more satisfying to vent annoyance vocally.
He turned his glance briefly to her when she came up beside him, and whispered, "What are you doing here?"
She had a large pack hoisted on her back and was carrying a canvas bag. "Brought you some stuff, including some clothes," she said, looking over his naked form.
It was cold up here, with an icy wind already cutting into his naked skin. His feet sank uncomfortably into snow-covered pine needles. Marj was wearing a heavy parka, heavy boots, and gloves. She was obviously comfortable in the winter climate.
"Thanks," he said, and quickly put on the clothing she'd brought in the bag. When he was dressed, he asked again, "What are you doing here?"
"This was your idea," she answered. "I'm just here to help execute it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He was both irritated and surprised that she'd followed him, and happy to see her. He looked at the dog she'd brought with her. Not her trusted Taffy, but a short mutt with loose skin around its head and long ears. "Don't tell me you used that mutt to find me?"
She nodded. "You can track humans, but not werefolk. Did it ever occur to you to use dogs to track werefolk?"
"Of course I wouldn't use dogs to — !" He almost sputtered with indignation, and had to struggle to keep his voice low. "That's insulting."
"Even Taffy picked up your scent. And Bailey, here, is much better at it than Taffy."
"But — "
Harry was an expert tracker, and being stumped by the runaways had hurt his professional pride. But if he stopped taking it personally, he saw how Marj's actions made sense. Marj's actions had worked. And hers was a solution that wouldn't have occurred to him because, well, because he was a werewolf.
He chuckled softly and touched her cheek. "Okay," he said. "You found me. But you still haven't told me why you're here."
"To help you lure them back to the real world," she said.
She peered down the hill, shrugged out of the pack and handed it to him, then set off down the slope toward the cabin. The dog ran ahead of her. Neither of them were moving quietly. Upwind or not, the young people down there were bound to notice Marj soon. There was nothing for Harry to do but follow after.
He caught up to her quickly, and they heard the shouting coming through the thin walls as they got closer.
"I am so taking the job!" The voice was Heather's.
"No, you're not! You're my mate, and you do as I tell you!" a male voice shouted angrily.
"Don't take that tone with her!" another woman spoke up. "We didn't come here to be dictated to by males."
"We came to live the old ways," another male said. "That means the males of the pack — "
"Do what the females tell them," the second woman cut him off.
"Maybe in your home pack, Alison, but — "
"We need the money!" Heather overrode them. "And this is our home pack."
"What do we need money for?" yet another male asked. "We can survive in the wild."
Marj turned to Harry and whispered, "The last one's Phil Fennick."
"I want — things," Heather declared. "I need — "
"You want to go home," the first male declared.
"No! I love you, Clark. I want to be with you!"
"Then what is it you need?"
"Christmas!" Heather shouted back. "I need Christmas."
Harry grinned at Marj. "See? I was right."
She nodded. "And that's our cue."
With that, she stepped up onto the creaky porch, and knocked on the door. Harry, close behind her, realized that she was humming "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" under her breath.
The door was flung open dramatically by Heather. She stared at them for a moment, while the other people in the cabin gathered behind her. Finally, she said, "Dr. Piper? What are you doing here?"
"See what you've done?" Alison accused Heather. "She followed you here."
Clark stood behind Heather with his hands on her shoulders, protective as he glared at Harry. "Interesting company your Dr. Piper keeps."
"I like to think of her as my Dr. Piper," Harry said.
He moved forward, nudging Marj ahead of him, but not taking his gaze from Clark Losimba's the whole time.
He'd been playing the dominance game for twice as long as the werecougar boy had been alive. Besides, he was an Alpha lobo, which was the top of the food chain in the werefolk world. Harry didn't think Clark was even aware of stepping back as he advanced into the shack with Marj at his side.
Once he and Marj were inside, Harry kicked the door closed behind them. That didn't help the temperature much, as the small woodstove in one corner wasn't any defense against the frigid air let in through the thin walls. The place had only one room with a small window, a bare floor, and no visible amenities. The room held three cots and an assortment of cardboard boxes. The mingled scents, physical and mental, of fox, cougar, wolf, and human was strong, with all six of the runaways crowded into the one-room shack. With Harry and Marj inside, too, there wasn't much room to move.
"Not exactly five-star accommodations."
"We don't need to live like humans, lobo," Alison spoke up. She was werewolf, as well.
He sensed that this young female was trying hard not to be alpha of this communal group and welcomed being able to turn the aggression she tried to suppress on someone who could stand up to it.
"I do," Heather chimed in.
Clark broke eye contact with Harry to turn a challenging look on the other woman.
"Which is why we let you have all the blankets," Alison said. She smiled at Clark. "We take care of each other."
Clark swung his attention back to Harry and Marj. "We don't want you here."
"We won't stay long," Marj answered.
Harry was aware of how determinedly cheerful she was being, and that she wasn't going to be intimidated by a bunch of teenagers, no matter how tough and dangerous several of them thought they were.
"I brought you some things." She gestured to the pack, and Harry handed it to her. She, in turn, put it down on the nearest cot. "I saw your parents the other night, Phil." she went on. "At a Christmas party at the high school. It was a lot of fun; too bad you missed it. There was dancing." She continued to speak as she took items out of the pack and placed them one by one across the cot. "Pattie Corbett brought her whole CD collection. Didn't you used to go out with Pattie, Phil?"
"Yeah, but — "
The kids were drawn to gather round her as Marj laid out her treasures.
"What's all that, Dr. Piper?" Heather asked.
"I smell chocolate," Alison said.
"Candy. Some cookies. There's hot chocolate mix. I brought fruitcake, too. What's Christmas without fruitcake?"
"Better for everyone," one of the kids spoke up. There was laughter.
"I like fruitcake," Alison declared.
"I'm sorry I couldn't carry too much with me," Marj said. "But I thought you'd like a taste. There's plenty more to be had at my place. I'm in the mood for baking a lot of Christmas cookies this year."
"I remember your baking cookies," Phil said. "I could smell them from miles away — but you didn't make any last year."
She smiled at him. "I'll make up for the lack this year." She gestured at all the teenagers. "It's going to take a lot of baking to fill up a crew this size."
"What are you talking about?" Clark demanded. "Who is this human?"
"You did some chores for me back in October, don't you remember?"
"She's my friend," Phil spoke.
"Your parents' friend," Clark said.
"No," Marj said. "I know Phil much better than I do his folks. If you'd like to come back to work for me, Phil, I could certainly use the help. You too," she added to Heather.
The dog had staked out one of the kids for attention, and was being held in the arms of a girl, who was looking wistful. Marj was handing out candy and other treats to the runaways, one by one, and talking to them about how she planned to spend Christmas in her big, warm house. Most of them were listening avidly. The kids were really homesick, Harry concluded happily.
"What's going on?" Clark demanded, his attention fully on Harry while the others concentrated on stuffing down candy bars and fruitcake. "Did my father send you?"
"Are you from the Council?" Alison spoke up.
Harry noticed how she was regarding him wolf to wolf, and told her, Don't think about it. I already have a mate.
Alison glanced between him and Marj. A human? Far from being appalled, she suddenly looked at him with respect. "Then you can't be from the Council."
"But I am," he said. "I'm also not completely on their side. I've been looking for you, but to see that you're okay." Harry took a step back, and said, "Listen up." When their attention was on him, he went on, "My name is Harrison Blethyin. Some of you might have heard of me."
Alison and Clark exchanged a quick glance, which told him they knew who he was. These two were the oldest of the shapeshifter group, not technically runaways. At nineteen, Heather Adams was also legally an adult, and human — so, technically, none of Harry's business. But seeing how they were living in this isolated icebox of a shack, he was determined to get all of them back to a more civilized and safe place.
"You're the tracker," Alison said.
"You work with humans," Clark Losimba said. "Helping them. My dad thinks you're a freak," he added, but he was smiling at Harry when he did. "My dad's a jerk."
"Jerk or not, he misses you, Clark. And Council or not, no one can make you go home or back into our world."
"It's not our world," Alison asserted. "We left because everything's messed up with werefolk. All werefolk do is hide from the humans. We're told we can't mate with humans, that we can't bring humans into the breeds. They don't even like us to associate with breeds other than our own. That's not living!"
"I agree with a lot of your complaints," Harry said.
"But you can't change a world by hiding from it," Marj said. "And your parents and grandparents aren't always going to be the ones who make the rules. If you really want to change the system, work to get the power to do what you think is right."
"You don't know anything about it!" Alison shouted.
Marj calmly faced the young werewolf female without a flicker of annoyance or intimidation. Though she didn't realize it, Harry knew that Marj was asserting that she was the alpha female.
"You're right," she said. "But I do know that Phil's family misses him. And so do all the other families you've left. Even if you don't go home immediately, you could at least let them know you're safe. And while you're thinking over what you want to do, why don't you come stay at my house?"
"What?" Phil asked, with a betraying eagerness in his voice. He looked around hopefully at the others. Even though he'd been the one arguing for living off the land when Harry and Marj came up to the shack, a taste of home had quickly changed his mind. "Could we do that?"
"I've got plenty of spare bedrooms," Marj said before anyone could call for a vote. "And plenty of work if you're looking for jobs. So don't feel like you're being offered charity."
"And there's the Christmas tree," Harry said. "And decorations and lights, and music, and a big, warm fireplace." Get them off this mountain first; then work to get them home. "And you'll love Marj's cooking," he persuaded. "You probably miss decent food."
"Christmas," Heather said, looking pleadingly at Clark. "We could at least stay at Dr. Piper's for Christmas." She placed her hand protectively on her abdomen.
"I'd be delighted to have you," Marj told them.
Harry had known Heather was pregnant the moment she appeared at Marj's door. And Marj wasn't at all surprised by the girl's revealing gesture. Smart woman, his Marjorie.
So smart that she came to him, took his hand, and said, "Why don't we leave them alone to talk it over?"
He nodded. "The decision is yours," he told them. He took the dog from the kid's arms, and they turned to leave.
They hadn't even gotten to the door when Alison called, "Wait. Maybe we could come down to your house. For a night or two."
 
 
Chapter 13
 
"It's a beautiful evening," Marj said, when she heard the kitchen door open.
She was gazing up at the sky from the back porch as purple dusk faded, and the stars came out, but she was more aware of Harry coming up behind her than of anything else.
She wanted his company. She wanted it more than anything in the world, but she'd deliberately walked out of the kitchen to be alone while the kids cleaned up after supper. She needed to be alone, to prepare herself for his leaving.
She'd known Harry only a few days, but it seemed like a lifetime, and everything had changed and…
"Your job's over," she told him.
"Not quite yet," he said. He came up beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. She automatically leaned into his warmth and strength. "But it's a good sign that Clara called her family the minute we got back. And that Phil trotted off to visit his folks."
"He did?"
"Yep. He changed to fox form and snuck off a few minutes ago. I don't think he wants Alison to know how homesick he's been. Not that that crush can ever come to anything."
"Why not?"
"She's a wolf, he's a fox."
"And it's forbidden for them to — "
"Not as long as they stay in human form. But we can't stay in human form — not permanently. Besides, Alison hasn't even noticed his interest."
"Poor Phil. Then again, he's sixteen," she added. "Very few people find true love at sixteen."
And what about those who found true love in their thirties? A love as impossible as a fox falling for a wolf? With the death of each parent a bit more feeling had been drained from her, but since meeting Harry, feeling had rushed back. She was fighting not to drown in the flood.
She wasn't prepared for the desire that shot through her when he leaned down and kissed her cheek. It was a simple, affectionate gesture, yet it ruined her.
"You're a good woman, Marjorie Piper."
Marj made herself get her breath back and her emotions under control. She thought her voice was quite calm when she answered, "I seem to have an ability to take in strays."
"It's a gift," he answered. "One that I — Who's that?" he asked, as a vehicle's headlights came into view up the long drive.
"Somebody with a sick animal, maybe," Marj answered.
She wasn't in the mood to deal with a patient, or someone bringing her an unwanted animal, but she didn't exactly have a choice when duty called.
She tried to shrug away from Harry, but he wouldn't let her go. "I have to get to my office," she said.
"I don't think so," he said, and touched his nose. "I only sense humans. And two more cars just turned off the road."
"That's Alice," Marj said, as the first car pulled up.
Harry came with her, as though they were attached at the shoulders, when Marj moved off the porch to greet her friend. Behind them, Taffy and Noel began to bark, and Marj was aware of Taffy's joy at seeing Alice. The usual racket began out in the kennel as more and more vehicles parked in the yard and people began to get out. Greetings were called, and food aromas began to perfume the air.
"What's going on?" Marj asked, when Alice approached with a large casserole dish in her hands. Alice's husband, Mark, carried another large dish, and Pat Muller got out of the backseat. He came up holding a huge cookie tin.
"We're having a celebration," Pat announced. "Congratulations," he added to Harry. "I do believe the best man won."
"Thanks," Harry answered. "I appreciate that, coming from you."
Alice leaned close to kiss Marj's cheek, and Marj got a delicious whiff of Alice's famous macaroni, cheese, and ham casserole. It wasn't that long since she'd had supper, but suddenly Marj was hungry all over again. And more than hungry, she was totally puzzled.
"Alice, what — ?"
"I've been thinking about those kittens." Mrs. Braem came up holding a tray of her equally famous candied apples. The scent of warm cinnamon was like perfume in the air. "Maybe I was hasty to give them up so quickly. I like cats."
"I'm glad to hear it," Marj answered. "But what are you all — ?"
"I'll be taking them and their mother off your hands when I leave tonight, Marjorie. But right now, let's party. You! Young man, come help me with these."
Marj turned her head to see that Mrs. Braem had spoken to Clark. He and the others kids had come out onto the porch to see what was going on. Taffy had come out with them and was weaving around people's legs as the citizens of Kennedyville made their way into the house.
"I'm so happy for you two," Alice said, when Marj looked back at her. "Not just for you, either, but for all of us." She risked spilling the casserole when she used one hand to make an extravagant gesture that took in the crowd. "Since the fire we've gotten so insular and inward, just worrying about our own problems. I thought the holiday party at the school would pull us together, and you saw how that flopped. Then, when everyone I told was so happy at the news about you and Harry, I realized that what we really needed was a new beginning to celebrate. Your coming marriage is a symbol that we all survived, that we're moving on, that the community is growing. So we're having a combination Christmas and engagement party. Surprise!"
"This is a Christmas present for all of us," Pat added.
"It is?" Marj managed, overwhelmed by Alice's assumptions.
"It is." Harry squeezed her shoulders, then kissed her temple. "Marj is the best Christmas present I've ever had. Believe me, Reverend, I'm grateful."
Tears blinded Marj's eyes, and tightened her throat. Stop that, she thought at Harry. Don't make this worse.
Make what worse? He thought back. You've given these people something to be happy about, and I love you for it.
You what? You can't —
Can't you feel it?
"We need to talk," he whispered, "but let's get this party started first."
Fine for him to say. He wouldn't have to live with them once they discovered there was no engagement.
How had Alice gotten the idea she was engaged?
When I hypnotized her, Harry confessed. I must have implied more than I intended. I think a lot of it was her own wish fulfillment.
"Let me help with that," Harry told to Alice, taking the large dish from her. "Let's get inside and get warm."
Harry hustled everyone inside, and Marj followed.
It was several hours later before he took her hand and led her back out onto the porch. The pleasant company had lulled her sense of dread and confusion, but it rushed back again once they were alone. Inside there was more laughter than she'd heard in a long time, and people were singing Christmas carols.
Harry put his arms around her and drew her close. Being near him was delicious and heart-wrenching at once. "Harry…"
He cocked his head to one side, and listened for a moment. "They're having a good time."
"At our expense," she muttered.
"Nice and noisy," he went on. "Gives us a chance to talk without being overheard." He drew her to the porch steps, and they settled down side by side at the top. "What's your problem, sweetheart?" he asked her, when they were huddled close together.
She wanted to cry. "I've finally met the one man in the world who understands me, the one man I'm comfortable with, the one man I need in my bed — and I can't have him."
"Would that one man be me?"
She glared at him. "Of course it is!"
He kissed her. After her bones had just about melted, Harry said, "I'm not going anywhere."
"But — your people don't mate with humans."
He put a finger over her lips. "Sure we do," he whispered. "Look at Clark and Heather."
"Yes, but, you said… Didn't they run away because it's forbidden?"
"It's not forbidden, and they ran away because his dad's a jerk."
"Harry, I got the distinct impression that your Council forbids fraternization between you kind and mine."
"It's never been forbidden, just strongly discouraged for a couple of generations. Besides, you can't forbid people to marry their true mates. And you're mine."
Hope flared to life. "I am?"
"Didn't you recognize it the moment we first touched? We found our life partners at Murphy's dairy case. I didn't want to recognize it at the time, but it happened. And here we are."
"What do you mean, you didn't want to recognize it?"
Harry laughed softly. "We guys get notions in our heads about not giving up our carefree bachelor days. It's a macho crock, really. I'm no lone wolf, Marj. I need to mate, with you, for life. I'm not saying it's going to be easy," he went on. "My people can't forbid it. We don't have laws so much as guidelines. They can strongly discourage human and werefolk unions, and certainly do. Our people have gone along with this policy, but you've seen how dissatisfied the younger generation is. But times are changing, and you and I can live here, away from all the Council politics."
"You can't abandon your own kind. Not for me."
"I don't intend to abandon anyone, but a mate is always more important than anyone else. My family will accept you into our home pack, though we're going to have some trouble with your in-laws at first."
"I'm going to have in-laws?" Even if they didn't want her, she liked the idea of having family again.
"Besides, if anyone complains about our mating, there are traditions I can call on to counter any protests. Remember when I told you that there are only two ways to deal with humans who find out about shapeshifters?"
"No."
"I did bring it up. Actually, there are three ways to handle humans knowing about us. One is to make the human forget the knowledge permanently. But that won't work on someone with your psychic gifts. The second is, and I'm sorry to admit this, to kill the human. But we only do that if the persons intends us harm, and after a trial. And the third…" He kissed her again, then repeated. "And the third — "
And once again they were interrupted by a car pulling up to the house, an expensive sports car that Marj didn't recognize. This time, the dogs didn't set off their usual racket.
"Werefolk," Marj said.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, as he and Marj rose to their feet.
A handsome, platinum-haired male got out of the car and strode arrogantly forward. There was something very familiar about his looks.
"Lucius Malfoy?" Marj asked Harry.
"Clark Losimba's dad."
She recalled Clark's comments about his father. "That could be worse."
"Yeah."
She wondered if she should get the tranquilizer gun from the kennel. Harry must have caught the thought, because he gave her a smile.
Then he turned to the newcomer. But before he could speak, the back door opened and Clark came rushing down the stairs.
"Dad — "
That was as far as he got before his father swept him into a fierce hug. Clark hesitated, stiff with tension, but only for a moment, before he hugged back just as fiercely.
"I missed you so much, Clark."
"Me too."
Then Heather came out of the house and walked toward the men. Clark broke away from his father and held his hand out to her.
When she joined him, he said to his father. "This is my mate." His tone and look dared for there to be any argument. "And the mother of your grandchild."
A number of expressions crossed the elder male's proud features while the young couple stood before him with their arms around each other, completely calm and sure of themselves. Finally, his features settled on stiff resignation.
"I see it's a fait accompli. Do you expect me to be gracious about it?" he asked Clark.
"Yes, we do," Heather said. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Losimba."
Losimba looked at his son, then at Heather, and smiled. "A grandchild." The couple nodded. Losimba's shoulders slumped, but he kept smiling. "That is quite a Christmas present."
Heather held a hand out to Losimba. "It's cold out here, come in with us and join the party."
He gave a stiff nod. Marj could tell he wanted his son back, even if it required compromise. Compromise was a good beginning.
"All right," he said, and went along with the young couple.
"That went well, I thought," Harry said. He whirled Marj around, and back into his embrace. "Where were we?"
"Could we get back to kissing? It warms me up."
"Me too. I'm going to more than warm you up, when everyone's gone and the kids are tucked in. Anyway," he went on. "I was about to tell you the third way werefolk keep our secrets safe from outsiders."
She smiled. "How?"
"Why, we marry them, of course."
Marj's heart soared, and she held Harry even tighter. She never wanted to let him go, and she didn't intend to. She threw back her head and laughed. "I love you, Harrison Blethyin!"
"I guess that means you accept my proposal."
"I have to. We're already having an engagement party."
"Then it will be a very merry Christmas." And he kissed her.
 
SUSAN SIZEMORE is the author of I Burn for You, I Thirst for You, and the upcoming novel I Hunger for You, a trilogy of vampire romances published by Pocket Star Books. She has also written historical romances and other vampire fantasy books. Susan lives in Minnesota.