Authors: Tara Lain
Ollie glanced around nervously. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He hightailed it toward Lulu with Ollie behind him. Winter smiled at her, and she smiled back. He flicked his eyes to the side and then widened them and gave a little nod. He probably just looked nuts. “Hey, Lulu.”
“Hi, handsome.”
“Remember that guy I was with the other night?” He made another face.
Please don’t say too much. Please.
She frowned a little and glanced at Ollie. “Yeah, I do.”
Whew.
“Well, I’m supposed to be meeting him tonight, but something else came up.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. “Could you tell him I won’t be meeting him? Just say I’m sorry and I’ll see him later or tomorrow or something.” He glanced toward Ollie again. “Just tell him it’s real important or I never would have stood him up, okay?”
Lulu looked toward Ollie and nodded. “Sure, doll face. I’ll tell him as soon as I see him.”
“Good. So he won’t wait around for nothing.”
“Glad to help.”
“Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “By the shed.”
She whispered, “Be careful.”
He stood. “Thanks again.” He turned and followed Ollie out of the club. Maybe Matt would figure out what happened. At least he wouldn’t sit there thinking Winter had bailed on him. That would be bad. Of course, that was assuming Lulu could even find Matt. What if he saw her coming and hid?
Shit!
He climbed back in Ollie’s vehicle, trying to look enthusiastic. This would be a breakthrough. He’d learn who the top guys were, tell Matt, and then move on to the bigger issues of saving his father and brother from a pack of wolves.
Ollie started to drive. “When we get closer, I’ll have to blindfold you, you understand?”
“Sure.” Made no difference to him as long as they didn’t close his nose, and even then he could probably find his way on hearing alone.
Ollie supplied the cowboy music that kept them from having to talk. As they approached New York City, Ollie handed Winter a ski mask he pulled out of the side pocket of the car. “Here, put this on.”
Winter dragged the thing on. The eyeholes had been closed with black cloth. He could make out some light, but not much else. “Should I duck down? It’s a little early in the season for skiing.” He laughed.
Ollie chuckled. “Nah. This is New York. Nothing much surprises people here.”
He could actually feel his other senses sharpening. Ears prickled, nose twitched. The general smell of mildew and garbage that seemed to characterize most old cities gradually became fishier. The sounds of multiple languages all speaking at once overrode the clanking of chains and the occasional splash of water.
Near the docks.
Though he’d never been to the city before, he knew he could duplicate the left and right turns exactly from the point when he put on the mask.
The SUV turned sharply right and slowed. The crunching under the tires and the reverberation of sound suggested an alley. The car stopped. Winter heard the door open and smelled wolves. A set of strong hands grabbed his arm and started pulling him from the car. He pulled back. “Hang on. I can get out on my own.”
“Don’t give me a hard time, buddy.”
Winter hauled the guy across his body, brought a knee up into his gut, and slammed his chin with a fist.
“Ooof.” The hands released, and Winter ripped the mask off his head.
Two other big wolves were coming at him. He stepped forward with a hand up. Could be placating or threatening. “This is supposed to be a friendly visit, but I’m willing to change the RSVP.”
Ollie ran around the car. “Hey, wait, you guys, Winter’s a friend. He’s here to see the boss.”
Both wolves stopped. The third guy picked himself up from the ground and started toward Winter, but one of the other two, a mammoth Asian wolf, stopped him. “Hold up.”
A voice came from behind the three guys. “Ah, wise, my friends. You didn’t do too well against Mr. Thane when he was blindfolded. I’d hate to see what might occur when he has his sight.”
Winter glanced toward the speaker but didn’t want to take his eyes from the three idiots, since idiots were known for their unpredictability. He got a quick impression of a tall, well-muscled wolf with steel gray hair. “I came here because I was invited. You should train your doormen better.”
“Yes, obviously I should. Please come in, Mr. Thane. Too many prying eyes out here.”
Winter walked up the set of concrete stairs leading to what appeared to be a warehouse. The smell of fish still informed the air. Inside, the gray-haired wolf led him down a narrow hall and into a larger room where two other males sat at a table, working on computers. A desk stood against the far wall, and the wolf walked toward it, then indicated Winter should sit in one of the desk chairs. He glanced up at Ollie with a faint sneer that might have been undetectable to him, and motioned him to sit in the other chair. The gray-haired male extended a hand. “I’m Ivan Kubelik.”
Winter shook his hand. Power, charm, control, but oddly, not quite what he expected. “Winter Thane. I’ve heard your name.”
“May I ask from where?”
Make this convincing. “I think from Marshal Freedman, or maybe that FBI guy who comes in sometimes.”
“Ah yes. The FBI and I are acquainted. They insist that I’m not a legitimate businessman but fortunately are unable to prove their assertions.”
Winter grinned. “So I gathered.”
He sat back in his desk chair. “I’ve heard consistently impressive things about you.”
Winter cocked his head. “May I ask from where?”
Kubelik laughed. “Ollie, of course.” He steepled his hands in front of his face. “I also understand that you’re thinking of leaving Connecticut.”
“Possibly. I guess it depends on the opportunities that come up.”
“Ah yes, perhaps we can talk about those.” He stood. “Walk with me.”
Winter rose and Ollie followed, but Kubelik flicked a hand. “Please stay here, Ollie. I need to speak with Mr. Thane alone. Negotiations, you understand.”
“Oh, sure, sure, Mr. Kubelik.”
Winter followed Kubelik across the room to another hall. As they walked, he smelled the acrid and sweet odor of drugs processing. Faint. The doors must be heavy metal. Maybe even underground. No wonder the FBI hadn’t been able to find anything.
They walked to another room set up more luxuriously with a mahogany desk, Persian rug, and art on the walls. The smell said this was really Kubelik’s office. Other fainter but more familiar scents made Winter stop.
Interesting.
Kubelik closed the door—also metal. It muted sound and smell. Not Winter’s favorite. Still, Kubelik must have felt safe, because he didn’t lock it.
Kubelik crossed behind the desk. “Please sit, Winter. May I call you Winter?”
“Of course.” He perched on the edge of the leather couch that occupied one wall.
“What would you like to achieve, Winter? What incentives would keep you in Connecticut?”
He shrugged. “I’m already pretty interested. Some things happened today that made the possibility of settling there more, shall we say, promising.” Kubelik might know nothing about the pack business, but Winter had a feeling—
The wolf’s lips turned up. “Glad to hear it.”
Confirmed.
“Perhaps I can add an excellent source of employment revenue to your resume.”
Winter nodded. “That sounds very promising.”
“As you may have observed, Ollie is a loyal servant but not altogether, shall we say, inventive or creative?”
Winter nodded vaguely. No use appearing less than loyal himself. “He’s done right by me.”
“Yes, and I’m glad to hear it, but he only has the skills to take that promising territory so far. I could use a more capable manager.”
Winter frowned. “I don’t think it would go over well with Ollie, and loyal men are hard to find.”
“Excellent observation. But I would not supplant Ollie. I’d give him a new title that sounds impressive and continue to employ his services elsewhere.”
“Got it. That might work.”
“I understand you know bookkeeping.”
“Yes.”
“And are excellent with all forms of firearms.”
“Also correct.” An odd, muffled sound came from the direction of the main room. Kubelik didn’t respond. Perhaps his hearing wasn’t alpha quality? Winter glanced toward the door. Should he say something?
“I also understand you can shift at will.”
“Yes.” Some shuffling and a bump, all really faint. No regular ears—even regular wolf ears—could have heard it.
“That I would like to see demonstrated.”
Don’t look distracted.
“Uh, okay. I can shift body parts. Will that suffice?”
Kubelik frowned. “I know it’s supposed to be harder and show more control.”
Obviously he couldn’t do it himself.
“But I’m interested in your ability to shift and disappear should it be required. Or even to fight in wolf form. So I’d like to see a total transformation.”
“Ollie’s seen me do it.”
Kubelik frowned. “Is there a reason you don’t want to demonstrate?”
“No. It just takes energy.”
“Which I will expect you to expend in vast quantities on my behalf.”
He sighed. “Of course. I have to strip if I’m going to have clothes to go home in.”
“Be my guest.” Kubelik smiled.
Winter pulled his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, toed off his sneakers, and then slid down his jeans. Kubelik’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make any snarky remarks. Winter threw back his head, accepted the shift energy, felt the tingling though his limbs as bones reconfigured and fur manifested, then took a deep breath, and—oh shit,
no!
The door to Kubelik’s office flew open. Matt pushed around the corner with semiautomatic in hand. “FBI. Don’t move. Put your hands up, and—holy crap! What’s happening?”
Winter tried desperately to stop the shift—pain flowed like acid through every cell, but no use. Too far gone. He had to transform one way before he could go back and—
Fire. Heat! Wolf. Humans. Staring at wolf.
Human fear. Human want to run. Human—love.
Kubelik threw himself across the room, weapon pointed at Matt’s head.
Noooo!
Every fiber of the great white wolf’s being screamed. He leaped, slammed into Kubelik’s body in midair, and brought him hurtling to the ground with wolf on top. He snapped his fangs onto Kubelik’s throat and forced himself to stop.
No eat.
Matt somehow gathered himself up and pointed his gun at Kubelik, then kicked the other weapon away. He eyed the wolf like he didn’t know whether to shoot it or kiss it, but rationality won, sort of, and he began to read Kubelik his rights as he snapped on handcuffs. With the prisoner partly bound, he pulled some plastic ties from his pocket and tightened them around Kubelik’s ankles.
The wolf unhooked his jaws and backed up, trying not to smell the rivulet of blood dripping from the wound he’d left in Kubelik’s neck. He stood against the wall, muzzle hanging.
N
OT
POSSIBLE
.
With Kubelik bound, Matt stared at the white wolf, staggered back two steps, hit the wall, and fell flat on his ass.
Not possible.
He clutched at his chest and tried to breathe. He hadn’t seen it.
My mind.
Gone. Totally gone.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed, never taking his eyes from the wolf. “This is Partridge. I’ve got Kubelik. Send backup right away, please. I—I’m alone. Need help.”
The wolf cocked his head and whimpered.
Matt clicked the phone off, his eyes still bugging. “I know you’re not real. Too much shit has gone down. Zakowsky and the kid and their fucking wolf stories. My father. Jesus, I thought I had longer.” He shook his head. Lights swam in front of his eyes.
Kubelik stared at him like he was nuts, which was total confirmation that he was. The drug lord sneered. “No one will believe you, Partridge. You might as well just let me loose. You have nothing on me. I’m just a law-abiding citizen conducting a legal business. I’ll be out of jail before nightfall, if I’m even put in.”
Matt stared at Kubelik, who stared back. Did the man see the wolf at all? No. He couldn’t. Matt sighed. Kubelik was right, of course. Matt had found nothing incriminating on his way through the warehouse. He’d just leaped into action when Lulu told him the news, and he’d run to save Winter from the bogeyman. Now, here he sat—no Winter. Staring at a wolf hallucination. Maybe he should let Kubelik go. He could call off the backup. No one was guilty of anything except him—operating as an FBI agent while insane.
He dragged himself to his feet and took a step toward Kubelik.
The wolf growled, and he stopped. Could hallucinations eat you?
The pale blue eyes of the wolf gazed at him. Hypnotic. It whimpered again, then suddenly leaped to its feet and ran out the door.
Matt’s whole body shook like he had a disease. He did. Mental illness. Sounds came from the hall, and he looked up to see John Caruthers come through the door with two other agents behind him. “Partridge, you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. How’d you get here so fast?”
“One of our agents spotted you coming to the warehouse. We’ve had men watching for weeks.” Caruthers looked at Kubelik, then back to Matt. “Man, you cut quite a swath out there. I counted five tied-up gangsters.” He nodded at Kubelik. “This makes six.”
“Yeah.”
“What you got?”
Matt sighed. “I thought they’d kidnapped one of my informants, but it didn’t prove to be true.”
Kubelik tossed his head. “He’s got nothing. Nothing! He came in here and rousted my staff, got everyone upset, for nothing. The man is crazy. Ranting about seeing some wolf. Tying up honest people.”
Caruthers frowned. “What does he mean, wolf? Like the mysterious Zakowsky wolf?” One of the agents laughed, and Caruthers shot her a glance.
Matt shook his head. “It’s nothing. But he’s right about what I found—”