We hadn't been in Fairhaven ten minutes, when gunshots broke the silence.
"Bingo," I whispered, and climbed out of the car.
"Elise." Nic climbed out, too. "Maybe you should stay inside."
I shook my head and headed for the edge of town. Despite the darkness, I could see pretty well.
Enhanced nocturnal vision and superior sense of smell and hearing while in human form were a few bonuses of being a werewolf. No clouds and a three-quarter moon didn't hurt either.
I listened and heard nothing. Drew in a deep breath and caught... something. Too faint to tell, almost as if the scent were a memory or a ghost.
Lack of sleep, too much Nic, and the damned talisman had made me edgier than I'd ever been before. I blew the strange smell from my nostrils, inhaled through my mouth for several ticks of the clock, and tried again.
This time when I tested the wind, I detected humans. I heard their voices, even though they were whispering.
Shadows emerged from the trees. Five of them.
Nic joined me. At first hovering behind, then pushing in front, as the shadows became people and drew near.
"It is about time you arrived, Elise."
We'd driven almost nonstop, yet it wasn't fast enough. Which was as typical of Edward as his outfit - dark pants and dark shirt accented by a bandolier of bullets across his chest. He carried a rifle in one hand and a pistol on his hip. A black skullcap covered his fading blond hair.
When the others had teased him about his Rambo complex, Edward had no idea what they were talking about. Once I'd explained, he'd thought the reference a compliment. Go figure.
Edward took in my attire with obvious confusion. Sweats, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes were not my style.
His gaze became stuck on my hair, which hung loose to my waist. From his scowl, he didn't like the new me any better than the old one.
"Who is this?"
Edward had turned his faded blue eyes, as well as his rifle, toward our visitor. I tried to inch in front of Nic, but he shouldered me back. I was tempted to force the issue but settled for introductions.
"Nic Franklin." I pointed to the tall, lanky woman on Edward's left. "Meet Jessie McQuade."
With short brown hair and eyes nearly the same color, Jessie was attractive in an athletic sort of way.
She was a law enforcement officer by training, an award-winning deer hunter by hobby, and one of the newest and best agents in our werewolf division.
My gaze shifted to the man on Jessie's left. His high cheekbones and smooth cinnamon skin revealed his ethnicity, even without the golden feather swinging from one ear. With eyes that nearly matched the shade of his black hair, William Cadotte was a professor by trade, an Ojibwe by birth, and an expert in Native American totems and mysticism by choice.
I touched the plastic in my pocket as I introduced Will, making a mental note to show him the totem ASAP.
Both Will and Jessie nodded to Nic, then frowned at me. I was in big trouble for bringing a stranger here, and they knew it. In an attempt to stave off the inevitable, I continued to introduce people.
My arm swung to Edward's right. "Leigh Tyler-Fitzgerald and her husband, Damien."
Leigh was as short as Jessie was tall. Petite, with an almost blond crew cut, her pale skin and blue eyes gave her a doll-like appearance, which had fooled the enemy on countless occasions.
Her family and fiance having been murdered by werewolves, Leigh had taken to hunting them with a ferocity only Edward could love. She'd fallen hard for Damien Fitzgerald - the hunky, Irish-American drifter at her side - before she'd discovered he was a werewolf.
Nic greeted Leigh and Damien the same way he'd acknowledged Jessie and Will: a quick nod before returning his gaze to my boss. I had little choice but to introduce them.
"This is Edward Mandenauer."
"Sir." Nic stepped forward, hand outstretched.
Edward didn't retract the gun, and the barrel tapped Nic in the chest. The older man continued to stare at the younger one without expression.
"I repeat, 'Who is he?'"
Nic's eyes narrowed, but I gave him credit, he managed to hold his temper and ignore the gun.
"I'm with the FBI, Mr. Mandenauer. I have some questions about the J��ger-Sucher agency."
"Uh-oh," Jessie muttered.
"Nice meeting you," Leigh quipped. "Hope you've enjoyed your life so far."
The four of them moved back, away from Edward and Nic, away from me.
"Elise, have you lost your mind?" Edward murmured. "He could be anyone. He could be - "
"He isn't," I blurted before Edward said too much.
In Edward's mind, everyone was a werewolf until proven otherwise.
"Ah, well, it is easy enough to find out."
I threw myself at Nic, propelling him to the ground before Edward could shoot him with silver and see if he erupted into a ball of fire or merely bled.
The others hit the deck, too, just as the rifle discharged above our heads.
"Stay down." I shoved Nic into the grass. He was shaking, which was understandable. Edward scared the crap out of everyone.
I leaped to my feet. "Old man, you're pushing the boundaries of sanity."
He shrugged and aimed his gun at Nic again. I was tempted to yank it out of his hand, but I refrained.
"Leave him alone."
Interest lit Edward's eyes. "Who is he?" he repeated.
He was asking for more than a name, rank, and serial number. He was asking who Nic Franklin was to me, and why I was so concerned for his life. I wasn't going to tell him.
"He's FBI. You can't just shoot him because he annoys you. As much fun as that might be."
Edward's lips twitched. "You are sure he is who he says he is?"
I was sure he was Nic. Pretty sure he was FBI. Certain he wasn't a werewolf - or as certain as I could be with the damned lycanthropes changing the rules every chance they got.
Because there is one other way to distinguish a werewolf in human form. If we touch, skin to skin, we know.
I'd touched Nic in anger, in lust, even love. I'd felt emotions I hadn't thought to feel again, but I hadn't felt werewolf.
"Hold on a second." Damien crawled the few feet separating them and brushed his fingers against Nic's.
Frowning, Nic snatched his hand away. Damien's hazel eyes met mine. He shook his head. He hadn't felt anything, either.
Edward saw the exchange and put up his gun. Nic stood scowling at Damien, who had moved off to join Leigh.
She brushed his shoulder-length, auburn hair back from his face. Just under six feet, Damien towered over his tiny wife. Not only handsome, he had a body that would make a Chippendale jealous. Being turned into a werewolf just after the invasion at Normandy had given Damien a lot of years to work on his pecs.
He pressed his mouth to her knuckles, then rubbed his thumb over his mother's wedding ring, which he'd placed on Leigh's finger less than a month ago.
"Now that that's settled," Edward said. "Go away."
Nic glanced at Damien. "What's settled? Why did he touch me?"
"Damien's..." I wasn't sure what to say. Lucky for us, Leigh was a terrific liar.
"Psychic," she supplied. "He can tell all sorts of things just by touching a person."
"Bullshit," Nic snapped.
I couldn't blame him for his disbelief. Nic lived in the world we had created. A world where monsters didn't exist except in fiction. Our job was to keep things that way.
Edward sighed. "Believe what you will. Now come along."
He stalked toward town and Nic hesitated, looking first at me, then at Edward.
I trusted my employer's quick change - go away, come along - even less than I trusted myself. I cast my eyes heavenward, then hurried after Edward. "Wait."