“Does it look,” Scary Suit asked, “like we’re interested in cards?”
Adrenaline consumed me. Fight or flight. Unfortunately, neither was an option at the present moment. Not when I was penned in by shifters, each of whom boasted double my mass....
Reprieve came from an unexpected source.
“Are these men bothering you?”
The interruption materialized into an ordinary human. Museum security guard, if his uniform was any indication. Late fifties, chubby around the middle. Nowhere near a match for one of these werewolves, let alone all three.
Still, his official tone and the gun at his hip promised an authority that might just get me out of this mess. I grasped at the offered straw.
“Yes,” I answered, tarring all three shifters with the same brush. Never mind that Tank had been nothing but polite to me. I tried to ignore the bitter disappointment wafting from him as I continued, “They were.”
The guard lifted his walkie talkie, calling in backup. I slid out from between the trio of werewolves, expecting at any moment for a hand to slam down and pin me in place.
None did. No one stopped me. Not even the security guard as I slid past him, through the arch, and hurried down the hall.
Four museum patrons seemed to be too much for one security guard to juggle. So I didn’t have to use my backup plan—begging for a bathroom break then using the ladies’ room as a staging ground for escape. Didn’t have to give my name and address. Just slid away from the werewolves and the human authority figure like the burglar I was.
I did spare a hint of remorse for Tank. But I doubted he’d be held up for long. After all, security cameras would confirm the men had only spoken to me, never even touched me. The guard would have no reason not to let them go.
Which meant I needed to make tracks before they were released. My tennis shoes snicked softly against marble as I plummeted back down the main stairwell. The front entrance drew me, but a stray thought changed my trajectory. Scent trails. It had been a year since my last run-in with other werewolves, so I’d almost forgotten. I needed to think less like a human and more like a wolf.
I wasted thirty seconds spinning through the smelliest aisle of the gift shop. Scented candles were always good for overwhelming a lupine nose....
They certainly overwhelmed mine. I had to pinch my nostrils shut to prevent a sneezing fit as I inserted myself amid a large family exiting the museum. These humans were just as stinky as the space I’d rushed out of. Fruity shampoos and manly body washes. Helpfully foul. I let their forward momentum carry me two blocks in the wrong direction before peeling away to strike off on my own.
That should be enough. Or at least I hoped so. The benefit of a city—there were too many people passing to make it easy to trace a single scent trail for very long. Add on my evasions and any followers wouldn’t stand a chance....
Not that I really expected the trio to track me. They had no reason to. Yes, I was a female shifter, but I didn’t possess the enticing chocolate aroma of a pack princess. My half-blood heritage had provided that much for me at least.
And my wending route away from the museum had turned up an unexpected side benefit. A fleeting glance down an alley caught golden arches on the next street over. Perfect. I’d pick up another salt packet for Harper before heading back to my car....
I was halfway down the alley when the scent of wolves rose around me. Halfway down the alley when something leapt from above, landing on my back and bearing me all the way to the ground.
Chapter 4
I rolled while jabbing upward with my elbow. Someone grunted. The grasp on my shoulders relaxed just enough for me to wriggle free.
But whoever had leapt off the dumpster wasn’t my only problem. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of wolf fur that matched a warning growl. Meanwhile, the thud of boots on pavement promised there was at least one undamaged two-legger backing up the one swearing on the ground.
Then the wolf was upon me. Gray around her muzzle suggested age but her speed rivaled that of a teenager. She snarled. Snapped. Stopped one inch away from my skin.
I was on my hands and knees, lacking the leeway I needed to scramble upright. The wolf was providing just enough breathing room so I could scuttle backward. An attempt to herd me toward whoever I’d elbowed? I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him griping, the expletives loud and harsh.
He was the least of my worries, however. So was the wolf.
Or, at least, that wolf. My own inner animal was alert, angry, powerful. She grabbed at our shared body, doing her best to burst free of my skin and clothing....
And her instincts were good. Going wolf would help us escape this ambush. But I couldn’t afford to break the rules I’d agreed to when I accepted the card in my pocket.
Not now, I told my inner animal. Harper needs us.
Without the card, we couldn’t see our sister. Would be forced to leave this territory and beg for refuge in another. Or, more likely than begging, would be forced to make a deal we didn’t want to make.
My inner wolf was driven less by rational thought and more by instinct. But even she could see the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze in this instance. So she subsided...for a moment, until the gray-muzzled wolf snapped another offensive, her teeth cutting through my shirt and into my wrist.
Great. Just great. Wolves always responded so very rationally to physical challenges.
Not.
The growl rising out of my throat didn’t originate with my human self. Fur slid from the skin of my arms....
And I held my breath while scrabbling atop the greasy pavement in search of a weapon.
