Linda O. Johnston

Undercover Wolf


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again. Now—” She faced Quinn and Kristine. “May I take your order?”

      “At least we have a general idea of the position of townspeople and tourists,” Kristine said later as they walked along the sidewalk, past souvenir, clothing and other shops still open for visitors’ pleasure. It was dark outside, but the narrow street was lined with lights.

      “Yeah, and fortunately no one we spoke with has claimed that the killings could have been done by shapeshifters,” Quinn responded. He reached over and took her hand. At her glance, he prepared to remind her of their cover.

      But she didn’t pull away. In fact, she grasped his hand even harder.

      Which almost made him smile. At least until her next words.

      “Even if there are any suspicions like that,” she said, “no one’s about to admit them aloud without any evidence. Not unless they want other people to doubt their sanity.”

      He stopped and looked at her. “Right. Sane people don’t believe in shapeshifters, do they?”

      “Looks like there’s a lot of insanity going around,” she said, and smiled. She raised her chin a little. He’d already begun to appreciate that as a characteristic gesture, a statement of challenge and determination. “But we still haven’t gotten any clue about where Simon and Grace might be,” Kristine continued. “You’re the investigator.”

      “Yeah, I’m the professional investigator,” he agreed, “but I heard from Grace how much she relied on your ideas to help in Alpha Force assignments.”

      Kristine’s grin looked proud but she shrugged her shoulders modestly. He liked her unassuming nature despite her obvious drive and intelligence.

      “We’ll work on it more tomorrow,” he said. “Take the same tour they did, for starters. I’m also working on some other ideas.”

      “Sounds good.”

      They walked on for a while in silence. Kristine halted outside one small shop that sold pet supplies. “I’ll bet that Grace stopped in here. She’d have wanted to bring something back for Tilly.” That was Grace’s cover dog. All of the shifters had one that resembled them in shifted form.

      Quinn hadn’t gotten one yet, and neither had Simon. They were too new to Alpha Force. But he had seen how Kristine had lovingly said goodbye to her own assigned dog, Bailey, who had traveled with her on her last assignment along with Grace and Tilly.

      Another admirable trait. The woman liked dogs. Real dogs. And apparently she also cared for shifters.

      He was going to have to watch himself around Staff Sgt. Kristine Norwood. He was coming to like her too much.

      And that could be a mistake.

      “So what’s your next idea?” Kristine finally asked, breaking the growing silence between them. Not that Quinn had found it uncomfortable—but he had been using it to think. And to plan.

      “The night’s still young,” he said. “Why waste it? I’m ready to prowl.”

      He knew, of course, that Acadia was a national park with established entrances. At least this first time, before they had oriented themselves about locations, he didn’t want to be seen driving in so late in the evening. Not many tourists were likely to be around, even though the park was open—or at least the campgrounds were.

      As a result, he drove them both in the rental car along one road at the park’s outer perimeter, and then another, until he spotted a turnout surrounded by lots of vegetation, right beside a sheer cliff.

      Insurmountable for mere humans. Not for a shapeshifter.

      “Let’s do it,” he said.

      “Here?” Kristine looked both puzzled and skeptical. He enjoyed watching the expressions play across her unconventionally pretty face.

      “Here,” he confirmed. He parked at the end of the turnout closest to the thickest shrubbery. “It’s fairly isolated and I doubt we’ll see many cars at this hour.”

      “Okay.” She opened her door. He popped the trunk open and she extracted her ubiquitous backpack—once more filled with the equipment he needed.

      In only a few minutes, he had drunk a dose of the elixir and stripped—enjoying Kristine’s attempt to appear nonchalant and disinterested while sneaking peeks at his bare body. Which only made said body react the way he knew it would. But only for a minute—until the light she trained on him began its job.

      He felt the usual tugging and pulling … and then his shift continued.

      This was as much bliss as a shapeshifter could experience. No full moon. Complete mental sharpness.

      If only his leap onto the mountainside five minutes ago, and his initial stalking into the park, could yield useful information.

      Unlikely, though. It was a distance from where he thought he’d heard the mauling of the tourists had occurred.

      He inhaled the complicated and intriguing scents of other wildlife—the coyotes and bobcats he had anticipated, as well as smaller, unimportant creatures.

      This was merely an initial foray, a more-than-pleasant test. He would accomplish more with future shifts around here, but at least he had gotten his first wild taste of Acadia.

      For now, he would simply revel in the freedom and ability to enjoy it. Not to mention his current, undoubtedly brief independence from the military, its structure, its orders.

      He had wondered long before enlisting if the elixir Simon had told him about would be enticing enough for him to give up his life, his freedom, his sanity.

      If all had gone well, perhaps it would have been more than enough to experience this amazing kind of shift as often as possible.

      But all was not going well, with his brother, and now with him—while he was, in some respects, AWOL from his official assignment.

       What would happen if he found Simon and Grace?

       What would happen if he didn’t?

      He had to find them, of course. Alive and well, and with a full, logical explanation of where they had been, and how they had not been involved in the park killings.

      And then he would not have to wonder whether he could continue to immerse himself in a life that required him to follow the orders of strangers, some of whom he despised.

      But a life that included this marvelous elixir.

      And an aide like Kristine. For now.

      Kristine, the dedicated and permanent soldier. Attractive, smart and sexy … but a nonshifter.

      A scent blew toward him—a coyote. Drawing closer. It must have smelled him, too.

      He paced farther into the forest. Not even a hint of the aromas of Simon or Grace, shifted or not.

      His frustrations mounted.

      No answers tonight.

       Chapter 5

      Kristine sat alone in the locked, dark car. Waiting.

      She hated waiting for anything.

      But she had taught herself patience while staying behind as her shapeshifting charge Grace dashed about the countryside in wolf form after Kristine helped her shift.

      She had worked a lot with Grace. Learned her habits. Helped her not only as a shifting soldier, but also in the solution of a problem that could have put the entire world at risk of unleashed biohazards.

      Kristine had gotten shot in the process. But she was fine now, physically.

      Mentally, too, she reminded herself—although she was damned worried