Cry Wolf

It was clear the other wolf hadn’t expected A

Something sizzled past A

“Are you all right, honey?”

The sound of Charles’s cautious voice made her head spin with sheer relief. She’d hoped that it had been him who’d thrown the rock, but it might have been Mary’s missing partner, too. She dropped the remains of the rifle on the ground and ran to him.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “It was only a dog-a damned big dog. But you’re fine now.” Though he was clearly playing to the human, his arms were fiercely protective as he pulled her against his coat-which was a dark red that suited him better than the brightly colored coat the wolf had ripped up.

It was a good thing, she thought, that he could clothe himself when he changed. Otherwise, they’d have something of a problem explaining why he’d been ru

“That was some stone throwing,” she murmured to him, stifling an inappropriate giggle.

She’d done it, she thought. She’d defended herself against a monster and won. Safe in Charles’s arms, exhilaration rapidly eclipsed everything else she’d been feeling. She had not only kept it from hurting her, but she’d defended someone else, too.

“Old skills,” he told her. “My uncles taught me when I was growing up. I can do better with a slingshot. Any distance weapon is better than trying to drive off a ravening beast with a broken rifle. Who’s your friend?”

She took a last sniffly breath, and then stepped away from his warmth. The woman was crouched, wide-eyed, with her back against a tree. “Mary, this is my husband, Charles. Charles, this is Mary…”

“Alvarado,” said the woman in a shaken voice. “Madre de Dios, what was that?”

A

Samuel always said it was scary seeing the jovial expression and knowing what lurked behind it-but most people weren’t as perceptive as his brother.

“Pleased to meet you.” Charles let his grin reach his eyes until they lit up as he looked at the woman.

She was bundled up against the cold, so he couldn’t get a good look at her-but that didn’t matter. His memory for scent was better than faces, and his nose told him he’d never seen her before.

He kept in mind that there were two werewolves somewhere nearby, but he’d deal with the monster at hand first.

He let go of his mate and took two long strides forward, two strides that not so incidentally put him between A

“-that stupid bear.” A

Was that what he was supposed to be doing? He shook his head. “You know what they say about not being about to outrun a bear? They’re right. Especially since it tore up my snowshoes, and I had to wade through the snow.”

That wolf had been as clever a prey as he’d ever chased. He hadn’t heard it or seen it before it attacked, and it had disappeared as thoroughly as if it had never been. He might be persuaded that A

As soon as he realized he’d lost the trail, Charles hadn’t wasted time trying to pick it up again. He headed back, not wanting to chance the wolf swinging back to attack A

Mary Alvarado straightened, then stumbled forward, as if she’d lost her balance. The move left her just in front of him, resting a hand on his chest. He felt the weave of her spell as it slid off his protections.

The scent of A

“There shouldn’t be bear up here this late in the year,” said the woman, sounding shaken. He couldn’t decide if she knew what he was or not.

“Bears don’t sleep straight through the winter, ma’am,” Charles said, looking down at her as if he didn’t mind her hand on his chest, which he did. Would have minded even if she didn’t make his skin crawl. Not fae, he decided. Not a spirit or ghoul-both of those he’d met up here a time or two. Something human. Not a sorcerer, either, though his wolf reacted to her that way; something evil then. “They don’t go into a true hibernation. They’ll get up now and then. It isn’t usual, but you’ll see ’em sometimes even in the dead of winter. Our bad luck we ran into one. But that dog that attacked you two was really strange.”

Black magic, that’s what he smelled on her. A witch, then, a black witch. Damn it. He’d rather face a dozen ghouls than a black witch.

“Aren’t there wild dogs?” A

“This is pretty remote for that,” Charles told her, without looking away from the witch. “Sometimes you’ll see a dog loose-but most domestic animals can’t survive a Montana winter without help.”

Something stirred behind the woman, and he let his eyes go unfocused to make seeing the spirit clearer. The shadow of a wolf showed him its teeth, then dashed away-as if he needed more warning than his nose to see that there was something dangerous about this woman.

Perhaps it was time to bring some things out into the open-before A

He let his mask slide away and smiled gently at Mary. She wasn’t observant enough to see Brother Wolf peeking out-either that or she liked a little danger, because she leaned into her hand while she looked up at him.

“But knowing that a domestic animal would not have survived this winter doesn’t matter, does it, Mary Alvarado? Because you know quite well it was a werewolf.”

A blank look fell over the other woman’s face. If he hadn’t known what she was, he might have mistaken it for bewilderment. “A what? There’s no such thing as a werewolf.”

Her act fell apart when she tried to meet his eyes-she’d been avoiding that. But a woman who was used to batting her eyes at men sometimes forgot not to do it to a werewolf. She didn’t take a step back, but she wanted to; he saw it in her face.

“No? Then there is no such thing as a witch, either.” Charles’s voice was even softer.