Cry Wolf

"Looks like you had a mess on your hands,” said a friendly voice. “Did you run into a bear?”

She sounded friendly enough. A

Like A

A

“A bear. Yes.” A

The other woman threw back her head and laughed. “Isn’t that the way it always works? I’m Mary Alvarado. What are you doing out here in the middle of winter if you’re not used to the wild country?”

“I’m A

“Search and Rescue, that’s me,” said Mary.

“Isn’t everyone supposed to go by twos?” A

Mary shrugged. “I have a partner around here somewhere. We had an argument, and she took off in a huff. But she’ll get over it soon and let me catch up.” She gri

The woman took a step closer to A

Something growled.

NINE

In his hothouse, Asil trimmed dead blooms from his roses. They weren’t as glorious as the ones he’d had in Spain, but they were a vast improvement over the commercially grown flowers he’d started with. His Spanish roses had been the result of centuries of careful breeding. It hadn’t bothered him to leave them at the time, but now he regretted their loss fiercely.

Not as fiercely as he regretted losing Sarai.

He hoped that someone had taken them over, but the state he’d left his property in almost ensured his flowers had died before anyone figured out what to do with the estate. Still, he’d been exchanging cuttings and rootstock with other rose aficionados for several decades before he’d been forced to leave, so his work had not all been in vain. Somewhere in the world there were probably descendants of his roses. Maybe if Bran made him live a few more years, he’d go out looking for them.

Someone knocked briskly at the i

“Hello, hello?” she called out, though her nose certainly told her exactly where he was.

It was her usual greeting-he thought that it was to make sure that he wasn’t feeling homicidally reclusive that day. He’d had a few of those right after he’d come to Aspen Creek. When she first started showing up, he’d wondered if the Marrok wasn’t sending her to make sure he was still sane enough to leave alive. If so, it had been only prudent, and he’d long since quit caring one way or the other.

“I’m here,” he told her, not bothering to raise his voice. She’d hear him if he whispered, and he was finished pretending to be human.

He didn’t look up from his work when she walked up behind him. His standards of beauty had broadened over the years, but even if they hadn’t, Sage would have hit every chime he had.

Sarai had often thumped him soundly on the head for looking at other women, though she’d known he’d never stray. Now that she was gone, he seldom even looked. Flirting didn’t make him feel disloyal to his dead mate, but he’d found he missed that thump too badly. Of course, given the opportunity to irritate the so-composed Charles, he had happily dealt with his memories.

“Hey, ’Sil. You’re smiling-someone die?” She obviously didn’t expect him to answer that, but continued, “You have something I can do?”

“I’m deadheading,” he told her, though she could see that for herself.

Sometimes he was so impatient with all of it-meaningless conversations that mimicked ones he’d had a thousand, thousand times. Just as he got tired of people who had to work out the same issues over and over.

He wondered how Bran kept his air of bemused interest at his people’s petty problems. Still, thought Asil with a thread of self-directed, bitter amusement, I must not be so tired of life, because I grabbed at the ring when Bran offered a chance at it, didn’t I?

Sage ignored his shortness with relentless cheer. It was one of the things he liked about her, that he didn’t have to constantly apologize for his volatile mood swings.

She took off her coat and settled in just to his right to start on the next row of bushes, so he knew she was in the mood for a good talk. Otherwise, she’d have started on the other side of the bushes, where she wouldn’t get in the way of his work.

“So what do you think of Charlie’s mate?” she asked.

He grunted. It had been wicked of him to tease Bran’s boy, but he had been unable to resist; it wasn’t often Charles was off balance. And A

“Well, I like her,” Sage said. “She has more backbone than you’d think given the way her old Alpha abused her.”

That shocked him. “Abuse an Omega?”

She nodded. “For years. I guess Leo was a real piece of work-killed off half his pack or let his crazy mate do it. He even ordered one of his wolves to force the Change on A

“If Leo ordered them not to, they wouldn’t be able to call,” Asil said absently. He’d known Leo, the Chicago Alpha, and liked him, too. “Not unless they were nearly as dominant as Leo-which is unlikely.”

Leo had been a strong Alpha, and, he would have sworn, an honorable man. Perhaps Sage was mistaken. Asil clipped a few brown-edged roses, then asked, “Do you know why Leo did these things?”

She looked up from her own task. “I guess his mate was going age-crazy. She killed all the females in the pack out of jealousy, then went out and turned a bunch of good-looking men, just for fun. Apparently Leo hoped that having an Omega like A

Asil paused, a cold chill ru

“Brutalized how?” he asked hoarsely, suddenly remembering the rare rage he’d left Charles in when he’d brought A