Written in Red

seconds because you were too cheap to put five dollars in the jar the last time.”

Now Monty didn’t try to hide the smile. “You are a font of information, Officer Kowalski.”

Kowalski slanted a look at him.

Laughing, Monty got out of the car. Despite the wind, which was still cold enough to cut to the bone, he left his topcoat open so that his holstered gun showed. Then he pulled out his leather ID holder so it would be in his hand when he walked into Howling Good Reads.

“After the shooting two years ago, all the windows in these stores were refitted with bulletproof glass,” Kowalski said.

“A gunman could walk into the store and start shooting,” Monty countered.

“He could walk in, but he wouldn’t get out alive.” Kowalski tipped his head slightly as he pulled the door open.

Monty looked in that direction as he walked into the store—and froze.

Amber eyes stared at him. Lips lifted off the teeth in a silent snarl as the creature lying in front of a bookcase rose to its feet. The damn thing was big. Its shoulder would be even with his hip if they were standing side by side, and he was sure it outweighed him.

The girl he’d rescued had looked like a rough version of the wolf puppies he’d seen in documentaries. But there was no mistaking this for the animal. There was something more primal about its body than the animals that lived in the world now. The first humans to set foot on this continent must have used the word wolf as a way to lessen their fear of what stared at them from the edge of the woods—or hunted them in the dark—and not because it was an accurate description.

Kowalski quietly cleared his throat.

Aware of how everyone was standing still—and trembling while they did it—he held up the leather holder that contained his ID and walked over to the counter.

At first glance, he thought the man behind the counter was human. The dark hair was a little mussed but professionally cut. The shirt and pullover sweater were workplace casual and equal in quality to things he’d seen in the better shops in Toland. And the wire-rimmed glasses gave the handsome face an academic quality.

Then the man looked at him with eyes that were the same amber color as the Wolf’s.

How could anyone look into those eyes and not understand that a predator was looking back at you? Monty thought as he took the last steps to the counter. How could you not know that there was nothing human behind those eyes?

“Mr. Simon Wolfgard?” Monty asked, still holding up his ID.

“I’m Wolfgard,” he replied in a baritone that was pleasing if you couldn’t hear the growl under the words.

Pretending he didn’t hear the growl, Monty continued. “I’m Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery. My officers and I have been assigned as your police contacts, so I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce myself.”

“Why do we need police contacts?” Simon asked. “We handle things on our own in the Courtyard.”

The Wolf snarled behind him.

Several girls who had been hanging out at the front of the store squealed and headed farther back where they could hide behind the shelves and peek out to watch the drama.

“Yes, sir. I’m aware of that,” Monty replied, lacing his voice with quiet but firm courtesy. “But if you know we will respond to any call for assistance, I’m hoping that you won’t feel you always have to handle things on your own. Take shoplifting, for example.”

Simon shrugged. “Steal from us, we eat a hand. But just one if it’s a first offense.”

Nervous titters from behind the nearest shelves.

“What if it’s a second offense?” Kowalski asked, moving closer to the counter while keeping an eye on the Wolf that was in Wolf form.

The predatory look in Simon’s eyes sharpened, just like the smile sharpened. “For a second offense, we don’t bother with a hand.”

Threat understood.

He could see the effort it was taking for Wolfgard to assume the mask and body language of human shopkeeper—which he assumed was the purpose of the glasses and clothing.

Not quite pulling it off today. Not quite able to hide the predator.

Or maybe this was as much as it was ever hidden.

“Why don’t we go next door for a cup of coffee,” Simon said, making the words less a question and more of a command. “Police officers like coffee. Don’t they?”

“Yes, sir, we do,” Monty replied.

Simon wagged a finger at a black-haired, black-eyed girl who hadn’t bolted to the back of the store with the others—had, in fact, been eyeing them all with a bright intensity that made Monty want to buy her some popcorn to eat while she watched the show.

“Jenni,” Simon said when she hopped onto the counter and then over it. “Can you watch the register for a few minutes?”

The smile she gave Simon had Monty reaching for his wallet to make sure it was still there.

“If someone wants to buy something, they will give you money and you will give them change,” Simon said.

“But not the shiny,” Jenni said, cocking her head. “We keep the shiny.”

Simon looked like he wanted to bite someone, but all he said was, “Yeah, okay, you don’t have to give anyone the shiny.” Then he looked at the Wolf, who came over and sat in front of the register—a large, furry deterrent to anyone who wanted to check out before Wolfgard returned.

He led them to the adjoining store.

Not a lot of customers, Monty thought as he looked around. A couple of people were working on portable computers while sipping from large mugs, but that was all.

“Tess?” Simon called to the brown-haired woman behind the counter. “Three coffees here.”

They sat at a table. Monty tucked his ID in his pocket when Tess set three mugs and a plate containing slices of some kind of cake on the table. When she returned with the pot of coffee, napkins, and a little pitcher of cream, Simon introduced Monty and then waited for Monty to introduce his partner.

Simon studied Kowalski. “Have I smelled you before?”

Kowalski turned bright red and almost dropped the mug. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You carrying another scent on you?”

A head shake. Then Kowalski paled and whispered, “My fiancee.”

“She likes books?”

“Yes.” Kowalski took a sip of coffee. His hands shook when he set the mug down. “We both do. We read a lot.”

Simon continued to study the officer in a way that made Monty want to knock over the table or start shouting just to break that focus.

“Polite,” Simon finally said. “Smells good. Doesn’t screech when she talks. Asked about books she couldn’t find in a human store. Should have that shipment tomorrow. She can pick up the ones that are available.” A teeth- baring smile. “Or you can.”

Kowalski looked Simon in the eyes. “I’m sure she would rather pick up her order personally to make sure the books are what she wanted.”

“Books weren’t the only thing your fiancee was interested in, but HGR doesn’t sell music discs, and the music store isn’t open to anyone but Courtyard residents.” Simon smiled at Monty. “But we could arrange a tour of our Market Square for our new friends in the police department. You could each bring a guest, even do some shopping.”

“As long as we don’t expect the merchants to give us the shiny?” Monty asked, struggling to remain calm and polite—and hoping Kowalski would do the same.

Tess, who had been about to top off their mugs, jerked back. “Ah, Simon. You didn’t let one of the Crows watch the register, did you?”

“It will be fine,” he said tightly.

“Say that when you’re trying to balance the cash drawer tonight.” Shaking her head, she walked back to the