“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 Anna and the woman. “I’m sorry I was out chasing that-” He could have cursed his distraction-he didn’t want to admit to chasing after a werewolf at this juncture. Not that the woman wouldn’t know what it was that he and Anna had driven off, but if she didn’t already know that he and Anna were werewolves, too, he didn’t want her to figure it out. And if she did, well, then he didn’t want her to know that he knew that she was something preternatural-one that used magic. He’d give her as little information as he could manage. So he stopped midword, but before the pause was very long Anna finished his sentence for him.
“-that stupid bear.” Anna gave him a chiding glance as if she thought he paused because he had almost sworn. He hadn’t expected that she’d be so quick. “Did you find the pack with our lighter?”
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 Anna had distracted him so he hadn’t heard it approach-though nothing like that had ever happened to him before. But there had definitely been something uncanny about the way the wolf disappeared.
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 Anna. So he’d given up for the moment and returned-just in time, as it turned out.
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 Anna’s fury all but lit up the forest-was she jealous? This was far too dangerous a situation to let himself get distracted…but, didn’t Anna know he wasn’t interested in anyone but her?
“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?” Anna asked tightly. “I thought that sometimes they form packs just like wolves.”
“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 Anna decided to be hurt instead of just jealous.
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.
She let her hand drop away. “Who are you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I think you get to answer the questions first. Who are you?”
“I’m looking for the missing hunter,” she said.
That was truth as far as it went. He frowned at her a moment, trying to find some way to make that a half- truth. “To get him to safety?” he murmured. Or to use him for her magic?
She gave him a sad smile. “I doubt that there is a need for that by now. He’s been lost in the woods with a rogue werewolf. How likely do you think it is that he is still alive?”
“So you knew about the werewolf?”
She raised her chin. “The werewolf is why I am here.” Truth. “Who are you? And what do you know about witches and werewolves?”
It was possible she was exactly who she represented herself as. He knew that there were witches who regularly worked for the various law-enforcement agencies. He also knew that just because she was a black witch didn’t mean that she wasn’t actually out looking for the missing man. Witches often hired themselves out-and sometimes, even if only by chance, a black witch could find herself on the side of the angels.
She’d been careful in her answers, though, and he did not discount what the spirits told him. She was no ally of his. The spirit-wolf was usually his guide-though he’d always thought it would have been more ironic if it had been a deer or rabbit. That show of fangs might not mean she was an enemy, but it did indicate that she wasn’t friendly.
“You can leave the werewolf to us, now,” he told her. “It’s not your business.”
“It is,” she said calmly.
Truth. The full truth this time. How very interesting that a witch would believe a werewolf to be her business.
“You don’t want to get in my way,” she told him softly, her breath caressing his face in a sweet flow.
“No,” he said, taking a step back from her and shaking his head-but he couldn’t remember what he was objecting to.
“Now it is my turn for questioning.”
If he’d been capable of it, he would have cursed his own arrogance, which had kept him from grabbing Anna and running as soon as he realized what she was. All he could do was wait for the witch’s questions.
Witch, he’d called her-and she hadn’t denied it. Doubtless that meant something, but Anna had no idea what. Had the witch been following them? Or the werewolves?
Whatever she was, if she didn’t get her hands off Charles pretty damn soon, Anna would do it for her, using a method involving pain and maybe blood.
The violent urge caught her by surprise, and she hesitated just long enough for Charles to stagger away from the witch. Something had happened, some balance had shifted. The air smelled faintly of ozone, as if, despite the time of year, lightning was ready to strike.
The hair on the back of Anna’s neck rose helpfully-as if she needed any further evidence that something was wrong. Too bad the hair on the back of her neck didn’t tell her what it was and what she could do about it.
“I’m looking for a man,” said Mary, her voice still incongruously sounding like a cheerleader’s. “His name is Hussan, though he also goes by Asil or the Moor.”
