A long moment passed, then a fox-colored wolf trotted into view, a small, taupe bag attached to his collar. He paused, gave them a brief doggie grin and disappeared behind a bush. Ari let out her breath, and she felt Andreas relax. She recognized that grin, even if the wind at their backs had pushed away his familiar scent. A few seconds later, a redheaded man in his early thirties stepped out of the woods and walked toward them. He shrugged into a gray T-shirt that matched his faded jogging shorts.
“That’s the only real inconvenience about this werewolf thing,” the man complained, clipping the collar and empty bag to his shorts. “Having to carry your damn clothes around with you.”
“Good evening to you too, Steffan,” Andreas said. He smiled broadly at the local werewolf leader.
Steffan returned the grin, throwing his arms out in an all-encompassing gesture. “It is a super evening, isn’t it? Do they still call it Indian summer in October? Or did that stop in September?” He scratched his head. “I called the Club, but they said you were training in the park. And I tried both cells. When no one answered, I decided I’d let my nose find you.”
“That’s rather persistent,” Ari said. “Not that I’m sorry to see you, but is something wrong? Has something happened?” When people went out of their way to look for her, it usually meant trouble.
“Uh, nothing. Not really.” He flipped his red curls out of his eyes. “Mostly it was a good excuse for a run after being cooped up in the office and attending meetings all week.” Steffan stretched his shoulders, still adjusting to the sudden shift from wolf to human form. Only the strongest lycanthropes could shift back and forth at will. Lesser wolves required a lengthy recovery time to avoid the debilitating consequences of muscle weakness and nausea.
“Are you going to explain the ‘not really’ part?” Andreas prompted.
“Oh, uh, sure. An unknown pack of wolves blew into town. Only five or six of them, at least that’s all we’ve seen, but they’re acting too much like that bunch a year ago for me to be OK with it. They haven’t reported in to any of our leaders and are keeping to themselves. Sound like a familiar pattern?”
“Not Sebastian’s wolf assassins again.” Ari frowned and looked at Andreas. Hadn’t they killed most of that pack last year?
“I can’t prove it.” Steffan shook his head. “No one’s even talked to them. They’ve been running in the park three nights in a row. I thought maybe I could spot them tonight and have a chat, but no such luck. I made a complete circuit before stopping here.”
“They could be strangers just passing through,” Ari said. “It doesn’t have to be an enemy pack.”
“Yeah, anything’s possible. I’m just saying.” Steffan’s voice was tight, defensive, more than was warranted by her comment, and concern narrowed his brown eyes. “I’m still wary of newcomers who don’t follow protocol by making themselves known to pack leaders. It’s an insult. If we had responded more quickly last time, maybe we could have prevented some of the deaths.” He glanced at them. “Are you sure there are no other signs of trouble?”
Andreas gave his characteristic shrug. Ari shook her head, but stayed focused on Steffan’s face. Tension rolled off the werewolf leader out of all proportion to his words. That alone was enough to put Ari on alert.
“No premonitions,” she said slowly, “but sometimes the beginnings are subtle.” She replayed events of the last week in her head. Had she felt anything unusual? Unexplained tingling of her skin, portentous dreams? Nothing stood out. She’d been rather distracted by her relationship with Andreas since July. Maybe too distracted. Lovers could have that effect. “I’ll pay closer attention and ask around about new wolves in town. Have you talked with Martin?”
“I just did, earlier this evening,” Steffan said. “He didn’t even know they were here.”
“That’s not good. He’s usually the first person to notice new lycanthropes. They have to be in hiding.”
Martin was her counterpart, the Guardian for the eastside of Riverdale, the modern city and the suburbs, where many of the werewolves lived among the human population. Because of the risks from constant interaction, Martin kept close tabs on them, especially strangers.“It doesn’t feel right,” Steffan said. Tired lines etched his face, as he scratched his chin. “You both should be careful. Maybe I’m over-reacting, imagining trouble, but I don’t think so.” Even the long breath he released was weary. “Ah, dammit, I’ve been involved in some difficult negotiations the last few weeks. Could be that’s affecting my perceptions.”
“What negotiations? Anything I should know?” she asked, immediately interested. If negotiations meant disputes, she didn’t want a wolf feud erupting without warning.
“Just some tricky wolf issues,” Steffan answered vaguely. “You know lycanthropes, we can’t agree on anything. It’s making all of us a little jumpy.” He gave a short bark of laughter, as if ridding himself of an unwelcome load. He put his nose in the air, sniffing the wind eagerly. “Weather is changing. Could be a good omen. Race you to the fountain if you give me a minute to change.”
“You’re on,” Ari said. She hadn’t missed his vague explanation, his eagerness to drop the discussion, or his shuttered look that said he wished he hadn’t brought it up, but his reaction wasn’t enough to alarm her. Otherworlders were private. Hell, Andreas was downright secretive. Steffan was better, but he rarely shared pack business, unless it was necessary. If she needed to know, he’d tell her in time.
“Don’t try to claim any handicaps for this race,” Andreas called to the wolf, as Steffan disappeared behind the bush again. “I do not want to exert myself.”
“Not bloody likely to need any concessions from you,” Steffan shouted back. Like many lycanthropes that interacted frequently with humans, he didn’t shift physical forms in front of others, if he had a choice. It was personal. From experience, Ari knew the sight of metamorphosis—the stretching and tearing, the shedding and growing of fur—was disconcerting to an observer.
Andreas’s smile faded as he turned to Ari while they waited. “Our friend is tense. He is concealing something.”
Before she could respond, Steffan emerged from the brush in wolf form and pricked his ears in their direction. Without warning, Ari took off running. Surprise was her only chance. The three of them streaked through the park, a wildness racing through her blood. As Ari’s long hair streamed behind her, she welcomed the cool breeze on her face. The wolf and the vampire caught her within the first seconds and could have pulled ahead, but Andreas matched her stride for stride. Steffan dropped into a steady pace beside them until the fountain was in sight. Andreas and Steffan suddenly sprinted ahead, the vampire claiming a close victory.
Even a Guardian witch couldn’t beat a master vampire or an alpha werewolf in pure speed. The outcome was ordained from the beginning, but the run was exhilarating. When Ari pulled up, both men grinned and razzed her about running like a girl. Old joke. She wouldn’t let just anybody get away with that, but these two had special dispensation. At least until she figured out how to beat them.
Steffan parted from them at the fountain and headed for his home in the suburbs. Ari and Andreas continued through the park. She sent soft tendrils of magic to absorb the sounds and smells of the evening. Dried leaves rustled in the breeze. An apple tree’s fallen fruit emitted a cider scent. A night bird called. Something slithered over the pine needles near the path. Goshen Park, which separated Olde Town from the modern portions of Riverdale, was closed to humans after sundown. Otherworlders, including the more predatory races, were allowed to run free once dark descended, but its current inhabitants were simply wild creatures foraging for supper or seeking shelter for the night.
When they exited the park gate and turned onto Ari’s street, Andreas broke the silence. “I think we should trust Steffan’s instincts. This pack will warrant watching. I will inform Prince Daron at our court meeting tomorrow. If it does not run too late, I will join you on patrol afterward so we can discuss any precautions we should take. Perhaps there will be time for another training session.”
“Good idea. And I’d love a re-match. Be prepared for anything,” she warned, giving him a teasing glance. “I have other secrets up my sleeve.”
“Do you now?” His tone changed, deeper, richer, and she felt the subtle touch of his magic curl around her. “Perhaps I should search you and see what I can find.” His hooded gaze briefly ran over her, and Ari suppressed a shiver of anticipation.
“That was just a figure of speech. A body search is not necessary,” she said loftily, then flashed him a grin and broke into a sprint toward her apartment. “But you’re welcome to look if you can.” Andreas grabbed her around the waist within a half dozen steps of her door. Swinging her around, he covered her mouth with his. Ari’s pulse spiked, but she shoved him away, nipping his lower lip as they parted. She tugged on his arm, dragging him with her, and they entered the building laughing.
Dawn was fast approaching when Andreas left to seek his own sleeping quarters for the day. As Ari curled under the covers, her thoughts returned to Steffan’s visit. Surely it was too soon for Sebastian’s wolves to be back. Most of the rogue pack had been killed last year, including their leaders, and the authorities had deported the rest. Of course, wolves reproduced in litters, and the young grew up quickly. It wouldn’t be hard for four-legged creatures to slip unnoticed across international borders.
* * *
Despite her late night, Ari was up shortly after 8:00 a.m. Dating a vampire interfered with her normal sleep hours, but her witch constitution was strong. It was also handy that her bosses at the Magic Council tolerated, even expected, an irregular schedule.
During her morning shower, she’d decided to bring her human cop partner up to speed on the werewolf threat as soon as possible. The pack might not pose a danger to the human population yet, but if something happened, she didn’t want to deal with an outraged Lt. Ryan Foster over not being forewarned.