Wolf Tracks: Tales of the Were (Grizzly Cove Book 17)

by Bianca D’Arc

  Jim studied the map and the accompanying aerial photos. The building was definitely of a bygone era and looked somewhat shaky in places, but there were also signs that someone had been fixing things in certain areas. There were a lot of tire tracks in and out of the place, and the paths into and out of the feed mill’s doors were showing signs of lots of recent activity.

  “How old are these images?” Jim asked.

  “About seventy-two hours. I have someone going up tonight to do some thermal imaging, to see if there’s anything new we can learn,” the Alpha replied.

  Jim looked up from studying the photos and met Joe’s gaze. “I’d like to see those.”

  “Sure thing. I figured you might want to do some recon tonight, and we can reconvene in the morning to compare notes and go over the results of the imaging.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Jim agreed. “And, yes, I do intend to do a little prowling tonight.”

  “I’ll inform Shane. He’s our new sheriff. Good fellow, from out West, originally. He’s out dealing with some youngsters who’ve been giving us a bit of grief lately, or he’d have come with me to meet you at the airport.”

  “I’ll try to drop by the sheriff’s office later,” Jim replied easily, not offended by the other man’s need to deal with Pack business. “I may need him in an official capacity, if things get interesting.”

  Joe chuckled. “I think you two will hit it off. He’s ex-military, too.” Joe started to roll up the big map since Jim was finished looking at it. “You can keep those photos. I have the digital files. If I need to, I can print up more.”

  Jim collected the photos and put them back in their folder. “Thanks, I’d like to study them a bit more before I go on my prowl.”

  “Now, let me get you two settled in the B&B. It’s in the center of town, and we only let Pack members and special guests of the Pack stay there,” Joe explained as he came around his desk, heading for the door.

  “We’re honored,” Jim replied. He would wait to see what kind of a reception the Pack gave Helen before he’d leave her on her own in this town.

  Joe was solid, and his Pack was allied with Jim’s, but Helen was human. Worse, she was a magic user from a long line of them, with a powerful family behind her. She might be a gentle soul and healer, but sometimes, werewolves objected strongly to the presence of human magic in their midst. If anybody had a problem with Helen’s presence, Jim would definitely have something to say about it.

  “The elder I mentioned earlier…” Joe said to Helen as he opened the door for her and waited politely, in the human way, for her to exit the office first, “…she lives at the B&B. Miss Felicity. She’s a typical old granny who takes care of everybody who comes into her sphere of influence. Her great-granddaughter, Felicia, runs the B&B.”

  Helen walked with Joe as they left the mayor’s office, telling him she’d be happy to see if she could do anything to help Miss Felicity’s aching bones. Jim watched how Joe interacted with Helen. He seemed very at ease with her, which was a good sign. Jim knew Joe’s Pack as well as he could know any Pack that wasn’t his own, but he didn’t know the nitty-gritty stuff about how they accepted—or didn’t accept—humans or mages or any kind of Others that might cross their paths.

  The B&B wasn’t far. It was just down the street from Town Hall. A charming, sprawling Victorian monster of a house that looked like it had a lot of history. Just at first glance, Jim could see at least four places where it had been added to, over the years. The face of it that fronted Main Street was tall and sported a turret and high-peaked roofline with just a little gingerbread trim and moderately ornate corbels. It was painted a rich cream color with burgundy trim, and hanging plants graced the wide front porch that wrapped around the bottom floor.

  The house looked deceptively normal—if very grand—from the front, but a glance at the side showed how far back it went. It was a truly massive building with plenty of room for guests and Packmates who needed a temporary place to live for whatever reason.

  As they mounted the steps, a young woman came out to greet them. She was short, for a shifter, standing around five-foot-seven or so. She had wavy dark hair with a playful streak of purple running through it and warm brown eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Felicia,” she said, her personality as bouncy as her footsteps. “You must be Helen and Jim.” She reached out to shake their hands, and Jim noted that Felicia gravitated toward Helen first.

  Felicia seemed very open and cordial, and Jim thought her welcome was a real one. He breathed an inner sigh of relief. This could have gone either way, and if the person in charge of the B&B had taken a dislike to them, it would have made their stay in Big Wolf, and the work Jim needed to do here, much more difficult. He had a mission, but he also had to keep Helen safe. She was too innocent and gentle a soul to be left on her own among a Pack of hostile werewolves.

  So far, the Alpha and the woman who ran the B&B seemed to be all right with her presence. If that trend continued—and with those two powerful presences already on Helen’s side—Jim would be able to stop worrying about Helen’s safety and get on with his work. Things were definitely looking up, and Jim started feeling very optimistic about his chances of going out and doing reconnaissance tonight while Helen stayed at the B&B, on her own.

  Joe was making conversation, telling Felicia to make sure she took good care of his guests, which Jim appreciated. Joe didn’t come inside, but left them on the porch, saying he had to see to town business, but he’d try to check in on them later. Jim shook hands with the Alpha as he left and then followed the women inside.

  What he found within was surprising. In the front parlor—and it really was an old-style Victorian front parlor, complete with frou-frou furniture and fussy lace curtains—an old woman sat in splendor. That was the only word for it. She was one of the oldest wolf shifters Jim had ever seen. Her hair had gone silvery white with age and was worn tucked up in a bun on the back of her head. She wore a dark dress with little flowers in the design of the fabric and black leather shoes with buckles, like something out of yesteryear.

  There was a cane at her side, as well as a well-padded basket with a little Westie dog sitting in it. The little pink tongue stuck out of its mouth, and its white fur shone with health, its ears pricking forward and its little black eyes watching the newcomers closely. It didn’t bark, but it did pant happily, watching everything with great interest.

  Jim approached cautiously, not wanting to give the little thing a heart attack. Dogs often reacted with fear to him because he was such a dominant wolf, but once they got over their fear and learned that he wasn’t going to try to eat them, they tended to follow him around, wanting to be part of his Pack. This little Westie, though, seemed to be made of sterner stuff than most. Sometimes, little dogs had big personalities, and it certainly seemed the case with this little white fluff ball.

  “Gran, please meet our new guests. This is Jim Hanson, younger brother of the Alpha of the White Oaks wolf Pack in Iowa, and his friend, Helen Richards,” Felicia announced.

  Jim was surprised that Felicia was aware of his lineage. Sure, he was the Alpha’s brother, but that wasn’t something most people knew or cared about. Most people cared more about his relation to his Uncle Arch than to his brother, the Alpha, but Jim supposed he’d been around mostly military vets for the past few years, and they all held Arch in very high esteem.

  “Helen, Jim, this is my great-grandmother. Most folks around here call her Miss Felicity,” Felicia told them with a twinkling smile.

  “I knew your uncle when he was a little boy,” Miss Felicity said to Jim without preamble. “How is young Archibald? Has he a mate? Pups?”

  Jim was floored to meet someone who thought of his uncle as a youngster. He tried not to stumble over his own tongue as he answered her questions.

  “Uncle Arch is just fine, ma’am. He and I work together, doing special missions for those in need. He never mated, I’m sorry to say,” Jim reported, keeping his voice
pitched to a gentle tone.

  “That’s a shame. He was a handsome lad, and so brave, too. He was in the Navy, as I recall. Which, I suppose, means you followed in his footsteps, if you work with him. He was on some kind of special team that called themselves after an aquatic animal. Otters? No. Walrus?”

  Jim had to laugh. “SEALs, ma’am. Navy SEALs. It stands for Sea Air and Land.”

  He’d have to remember to tell Arch when he got back home about the Navy Walrus. This old lady was just too funny. He could see from the wicked gleam in her eyes that she knew darn well what the teams had been called. She was putting him on, and he liked her all the more for it.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Navy SEALs. The frogmen. I always thought it was an odd occupation for a wolf. Did you work with any big cat shifters? I would think they like the water more than most.” Jim was utterly charmed by the old lady.

  “A few,” he answered. “I knew a couple of tiger shifters, but there were also actual seal shifters. Selkies, they call themselves. Some of those guys started the teams with my uncle, back during the Viet Nam War.”

  “Ah, yes. Archibald always had an attraction to magic, and selkies are more magical than most shifters. I can see where he’d befriend that type of person.” Those shrewd, twinkling eyes turned to Helen. “Which brings us to you, my dear.”

  “Me?” Helen practically gulped as the full force of that formidable personality turned on her.

  “You’re not a wolf,” Miss Felicity stated. It wasn’t a question.

  “No, ma’am. I’m human. A healer. From a magical family with a touch of fey in the bloodlines, from what I’ve been told.”

  Helen seemed nervous under that gimlet stare, and Jim didn’t blame her. He moved closer to her in an unconscious protective stance, and only realized what he’d done when Miss Felicity’s gaze followed his movement. She gave him a knowing smile.

  The little dog chose that moment to hop out of its basket and walk up to Helen, sniffing her foot before looking up at her. She looked down at the dog and her expression softened.

  “Who is this?” she said, bending to offer the pooch her fingers to sniff.

  “His name is Angus,” Miss Felicity told them. “He seems rather taken with you, my dear. That’s a good sign. Angus is an excellent judge of character.”

  “Hello, Angus,” Helen crooned as the dog allowed her to stroke his head and scratch behind his ears. “Aren’t you a handsome fellow?” Helen cocked her head to the side and seemed to study the dog for a moment. “There’s something wrong with his paws,” she said finally. “May I help him?” Helen looked to Miss Felicity for permission.

  “Certainly, you may try,” Miss Felicity replied, her eyebrows rising in apparent surprise.

  Helen put both hands on the little dog, stroking his fur. A little zap of her magic that Jim felt only as a slight tingle since he was standing so close to her, and she looked up again, smiling. The dog jumped upward, and she caught him in her arms as she stood, cradling him close as he licked her face. She was grinning as she moved toward Miss Felicity.

  “All better,” Helen pronounced, putting the dog on the couch next to Miss Felicity when she patted the cushion. The little fellow walked over to its mistress and looked up at her adoringly as she stroked his fur.

  Miss Felicity looked at Angus’s paws in minute detail, looking up at Helen with surprise. When she was finished with her examination, her expression had filled with approval and gratitude. Her whole demeanor softened.

  “Thank you, my dear,” Miss Felicity said to Helen. “That was kindly done. Angus hasn’t been himself since he got hurt. Our Pack healer couldn’t do much more for him. We just had to let him heal naturally. But you’ve returned Angus’s vitality to him, and for that, I thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Helen said, taking the chair at the side of the couch as Miss Felicity motioned for her to sit down. “How did Angus get hurt?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s an independent customer, is Angus, and he likes to prowl around during the day when I take my nap. He came back a few days ago with burns on his little paws, but nobody knew where he’d gotten them,” Miss Felicity explained.

  “Burns?” Jim asked, taking the chair on the other side of the couch, across from Helen. “Heat or chemical?”

  Miss Felicity shook her head. “I’m not sure. By the time he limped home, any chemicals he might’ve gotten into—if that’s what happened—were long gone in the dust and dirt of his travels.”

  Chapter Nine

  They spent a few more minutes talking with Miss Felicity, but before too much time had passed, Felicia reminded her great-grandmother that she had to leave for an appointment, and Felicia wanted to get their new guests settled in their room first. Helen hadn’t gotten a chance to broach the subject of Miss Felicity’s arthritis pain, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity to do so. She would try again later. For now, finding a few minutes to freshen up sounded really good. She was also curious to see what the guest rooms in this grand old house would be like.

  Felicia showed them to their rooms. It was a single suite with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom between them. The décor wasn’t nearly as dated as the fancy front parlor that seemed to be Miss Felicity’s domain, but it was lovely. Clean, crisp lines, and gentle earth tones in beige and cream with burgundy accents, echoing the trim of the house itself.

  Felicia left them after pointing out the amenities and showing them a binder with the house rules in it, along with menus from various town businesses. All the information any guest would need about the town and its offerings were within the pages of that binder, and Helen looked forward to reading it cover to cover.

  First, though, she wanted a shower. The flight hadn’t been that long—just over four hours—but it had been an eventful few days, and she was feeling a bit ragged.

  “I’m going to freshen up,” Helen told Jim, taking her bag and heading into one of the bedrooms.

  She was in a bit of a daze from all the excitement, but she’d never felt quite so alive before. Her life on the farm, with her family, was predictable. It had evolved that way over time as her gift became stronger and required her to separate herself from most of the human world and only venture into it in small doses so she didn’t end up burning out, or worse. She had known she was living like a hermit, but she hadn’t known what to do about it. It seemed the only safe way.

  Then, her mother had insisted she be the one to drive to West Virginia to help her sister, Kiki. That had been a surprise. Everyone in the family knew, though, to heed their mother’s suggestions.

  It was likely her mother had sensed that going to help Kiki would bring about all sorts of opportunities for Helen. First, she’d been on hand when Kiki and her new mate had found that poor, captive bear shifter child. Helen had been able to heal the little girl and return her in good health to her frantic parents.

  Helen had suspected that had been the reason her mother had insisted that she go to West Virginia in the first place, but maybe there was more to it than that. Helen had also met Jim there, and even though they’d parted ways, her mother had sent her back to him, to save his life and help him on this quest. Helen had the startling realization that maybe Jim’s life wasn’t the only one to be saved.

  This whole adventure had shown Helen some of what she’d been missing in her humdrum life on the farm. The farm was safe. Being out here, among people, wasn’t. Being among shifters, though, was something Helen had never expected. They didn’t drain her like other folk. They were all so rudely healthy and full of vitality. It was actually…refreshing.

  She was beginning to realize that she could have a life outside the safe confines of the family farm…if she dared. If she could find a group of shifters—like those in this town—or the ones she’d heard about in that bear town in Washington State. Grizzly Cove. That’s what it was called. A town built by bear shifters looking for mates.

  Kiki was going to Grizzly Cove, and Helen wondered if she
could wrangle an invitation to go there, as well. She already knew Kiki’s new in-laws, and they were great. Helen knew she could at least visit them, from time to time, and maybe not have to be so isolated on the farm anymore. It was a little ray of hope for a better life. Something she hadn’t expected in a million years to come of her mission to West Virginia. Helen had the feeling that her mother had known, though. Mom always knew.

  Helen smiled at that thought as she pulled the shower curtain closed and got under the spray of warm water. Boy, that felt good. Helen spent a good few minutes just letting the warm water work out the kinks in her muscles from all the traveling she’d done.

  All the while, she was very aware that Jim was just a short distance away, in the other room. He might even be in his bedroom, with just a thin door between the steamy bathroom where she was standing naked and needy, and his hard body. Damn. Thoughts of the sexy werewolf she’d been traveling with were making her hot. Helen dialed the shower temperature down a bit, hoping to cool off.

  A soft knock sounded on the door that led to Jim’s bedroom. “Helen? You okay in there?”

  “Fine,” she called back. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  Had she moaned? Damn. She bet she had, thinking about Jim of the Hard Body. Shifters had superior senses. She had to remember that and be more aware of her responses. How embarrassing.