Undercover Wolf

by Paige Tyler

  It hadn’t been that difficult to figure out which of the six active monasteries Boc and his crew were planning to use for the auction. The whole city of Kalambaka was buzzing with rumors about a production company—which was fake, of course—that had taken over the entirety of the huge Holy Trinity site to film a movie. Some people claimed it was for the follow-up Game of Thrones series, while others insisted it was for the next James Bond movie. There was word that hundreds of actors would be coming in over the next two days to film an extravagant party scene.

  The monastery seemed like an over-the-top kind of place to hold an illegal auction, but Harley had to admit it was also brilliant. Boc and his traffickers could be seen hauling nearly anything up that mountain, and the locals would assume it was part of the movie set.

  She glanced at one of the monitors on the backside of the mountain, watching a crane lift huge metal framework into position before a crew of workers clambered all over it.

  “I can’t believe Boc is constructing an aerial tram to get the buyers to the top of the cliff,” she said. “That’s got to be ungodly expensive for a one-time use.”

  Sawyer gazed out the window at the mountain and the buildings at its summit. “I guess if you expect people to come to your exotic supernatural auction and spend millions of dollars, it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask them to climb up the side of a mountain.”

  “I suppose.” Harley frowned. “It still seems like a lot of money simply to put his buyers in the right mood.”

  “I doubt he had to spend that much,” Sawyer said with a snort. “The locals are so thrilled with the idea of having a tram to the top of one of their monasteries, they’re probably paying for most of the construction cost themselves. The tourism boost the thing will bring will more than cover the cost.”

  Harley prayed the locals who’d been part of this deal didn’t know the kind of people they were getting involved with or what Boc intended to do up there on top of that mountain.

  “I read on the flight that there are a few monks in residence up there,” she said, glancing once again toward the monitors and all the people scurrying around up there. “Do you think they’re still alive?”

  Sawyer considered that. “Probably, if only to maintain the facade for as long as possible. But after the auction is over? That, I don’t feel so good about.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Which meant when they finally got up there, they were going to need to save not only the kidnapped supernaturals, but also a handful of monks. Without any backup.

  Beside her, Sawyer went back to staring at the monitors, but from the expression on his face, it was obvious his mind was a million miles away. Considering the call Sawyer had gotten when they’d landed in Athens, she supposed he had good reason to be distracted.

  “How did your teammates take the news when you told them what happened?” she asked quietly.

  Sawyer leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest, a frown creasing his brow. “About as well as you’d expect. Erin is ready to say the hell with everything and head straight back to London. Rory agrees with her. And Elliott thinks we don’t have enough information to decide anything one way or the other. It doesn’t help that the local police still have no leads on who killed Sarah and Cedric.”

  Weatherford had called while they were standing at the airport rental-car counter and even though Harley hadn’t been trying to listen in on their conversation, it was impossible to miss the man telling Sawyer that his former teammates, Sarah Parker and Cedric Abbot, were dead. Harley immediately recognized the names, even if it had taken a few seconds to remember them from the conversation they’d had back in Paris, when Sawyer had told her about the mission in Odessa and the two agents who’d decided to get out of the covert-ops world for good.

  The former MI6 agents had been found dead in their home in Alberta, Canada, with their throats slit late last night. There’d been no signs of forced entry, much less a struggle or even defensive wounds. Weatherford said the attack had been so sudden, the couple didn’t even have time to realize what was happening.

  “I knew Sarah and Cedric were a thing the moment I met them,” Sawyer said softly, not looking at her. “Even though they kept their relationship secret, everyone knew they were involved, so no one was surprised when they both decided to leave MI6. Everyone knew they had to quit if they truly wanted to be together. They got four years. I guess that counts for something.”

  Harley hurt for the couple even though she’d never met them. To leave the danger behind and be murdered in their own home was beyond terrible.

  “Is MI6 going to get involved in the investigation?” she asked. “I know it happened in Canada, but they can still do something, right?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Weatherford says MI6 refuses to jump to conclusions and connect Sarah’s and Cedric’s deaths to Silas’s yet, even though all three died from knife wounds. As far as they know, Silas was killed on a mission, and until someone proves differently, Sarah and Cedric lost their lives in a home invasion.”

  It was Harley’s turn to frown. “But you aren’t buying that?”

  “No. Neither is anyone else on my team,” Sawyer said. “And with three of his former teammates dead, Weatherford has to realize he could be next. It might have been years since he’s been in the field, but he’s still smart enough to recognize someone is settling old scores. He’s already digging through every mission the team worked before I joined them, looking for likely suspects.”

  “What about after you joined them?” she asked.

  The thought of whoever murdered his teammates coming after him made it suddenly hard to breathe and she had to force herself to calm down.

  He shook his head. “Everyone we took down in Odessa is either dead or locked away in a Turkish prison, which is the next worst thing to being dead. Hell, for all I know, Yegor Shevchenko might be dead.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “Do you think the person who killed them might be behind the ambush in Morocco? To get to Erin, Rory, and Elliott?”

  Sawyer looked at her in surprise. “That’d be a hell of a coincidence. Besides, that doesn’t explain how Boc’s crew knew our every move.”

  No, it didn’t.

  Unfortunately.

  She’d hoped that theory might help defuse the tension that had been growing between STAT and MI6 since that damn vampire had revealed the mission in Morocco had been compromised before it started. That there would be an obvious bad guy they could point to instead of blaming each other’s support teams for leaking the plans for the raid. Whatever little goodwill there’d been between them was essentially shot to hell by the knowledge of a traitor among them.

  For a while there, Harley’d been sure McKay was going to shut down the whole thing and tell her and her teammates to come home. He’d understood why Jake wanted to leave the support team behind and also why he was so intent on keeping a close hold on the information they’d gotten from the vampire, but their boss hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of continuing to work with an MI6 team they might not be able to trust or going on a rescue mission without backup. Jake had barely managed to talk their boss off the ledge, swearing he still felt comfortable working with MI6. Even with that assurance, McKay had been quick to tell them if there was one more screwup that even suggested MI6 couldn’t be trusted, he was going to pull the team back and cancel the joint operation for good.

  For some reason, that thought terrified Harley more than she wanted to admit. Because that would mean never seeing Sawyer again.

  “How hard would it be for someone to get their hands on Sarah’s and Cedric’s new identities and the location of the mission Silas was on?” she asked, changing the subject before her mind could go too far down that particular path. “Who would have access to info like that?”

  Sawyer scanned the monitors. “Anyone with a high en
ough clearance would be able to get details on an active mission like Silas was on—supervisors, branch chiefs, senior support personnel. But Sarah’s and Cedric’s identities would be more difficult to dig up. Few people, even at the highest levels, would have access to that information.”

  Harley thought that was what he’d say. “What if someone had access to the MI6 records repository? Would they be able to find everything there?”

  Sawyer swiveled his chair toward her with a sigh. “I know you’re trying to find a connection between their murders and the guy we followed to Mexico City, but like I said before, it’s a huge leap to think someone who has a grudge against my old team just happens to work for Boc.”

  “Maybe,” she replied. “But coincidence or not, we can’t ignore the fact that a man associated with Boc broke into the MI6 records repository where all kinds of personnel and agency records are kept, then a couple weeks later, your old teammates start showing up dead.”

  Harley thought Sawyer would argue that point, but after a long silent pause, he nodded. “Okay, I’ll admit you might be onto something, but there isn’t a lot we can do to prove your theory. Even if we trusted our support teams, what would we have them look for? The guy who broke into the records repository died in Mexico City and we don’t know enough about Boc to connect the two of them. The best I can do is tell Weatherford our suspicions and see what he can dig up.”

  Harley appreciated Sawyer said our suspicions, instead of hanging her out to dry on her own. It was a little thing, but it still meant a lot to her.

  They both fell quiet as they turned their attention back to the monitor. The silence should have been uncomfortable, but sitting there with him watching the construction team working on the mountain was relaxing.

  “You hungry?” Sawyer asked a little while later. “It’s been hours since we had dinner at the hotel restaurant.”

  “I could eat,” she said.

  Getting up, he walked into the kitchen and turned on the small lights underneath the upper cabinets, bathing yellow walls and a colorful tile backsplash in a soft glow. Opening the fridge, he took out two bottles of orange-flavored soda, then set them on the counter so he could rummage through the paper grocery bags there. Without the support people to set everything up, Caleb had volunteered to stock the villa with food. Knowing her teammate as well as she did, Harley wasn’t holding out much hope for quality snacks.

  “We have bags of something called Drakulinia, which look like cheese puffs,” he said, holding it up so she could see before reaching in for another. “Next we have Tsakiris Chips with oregano flavoring.” He grimaced. “I was good until I saw that. I am definitely not a fan of oregano.”

  She didn’t mind oregano but wasn’t sure she wanted potato chips doused in it. “Anything chocolate in there?”

  He dug around in another paper bag and pulled out a small red cylinder. “Chocolate wafers filled with chocolate cream. That work for you?”

  Her mouth was already watering. “Definitely.”

  Coming back into the living room, he handed her the cardboard canister of cookies and a bottle of soda. Harley eagerly pulled the plastic lid off the canister, then popped the metal lid underneath. The delightful scent of chocolate immediately reached her nose, along with something that smelled a little like a waffle cone. She couldn’t resist holding the container up close to her face to take an extra deep sniff.

  “Mmm,” she breathed.

  Sawyer chuckled. “Should I leave you two alone for a while? I could step outside for a bit. Maybe go for a walk around the block.”

  Unable to resist the urge, Harley stuck out her tongue at Sawyer, who snorted and made a teasing comment about her maturity before ripping open the top of his bag of Drakulinia snacks. While he attempted to figure out what the twisted cheese-puff shape had to do with Dracula, Harley tried one of the chocolate-filled rolls from the can. The cream inside the rolled-up tube wasn’t as sweet as she expected, but it was delicious anyway. Something told her she’d eat the whole can before their shift was over.

  “How’re those things working for you?” she asked as he crunched on a handful of the strangely shaped cheese puffs.

  “They taste like Cheetos with a hint of tomato soup mixed in. I could definitely get addicted.”

  She reached over and shoved her hand in the bag trying to grab a few.

  “Hey,” he laughed, pulling his bag away with one hand while making a shooing gesture with the other. “These are mine.”

  She held out the canister of Caprice cookies and flashed him a smile. “I’ll share if you will.”

  “Deal,” he said, offering access to his bag at the same time he reached out and took one of the chocolate-filled wafer rolls out of the can.

  Reaching for more of the powdery orange snacks, she popped them into her mouth, then bit into a cookie. “Cheese puffs and chocolate…who knew?”

  He chuckled as they both went back to eating, sharing from their packages and occasionally taking a sip of the soda that tasted like orange soda and lemonade mixed together.

  “So, is now a good time to talk?”

  Sawyer’s voice was so casual, Harley barely took note of the question until she looked up and realized he was regarding her expectantly.

  “Talk about what?” she asked, taking out another chocolate cookie and biting into it as she tried to figure out what Sawyer meant by that. She thought they had been talking.

  “About how you became a werewolf?” he prompted. “You didn’t think I’d forget you promised to tell me your story, did you?”

  Her heart suddenly beat faster. “I thought the deal was that I’d tell you the next time I found a place to repay you with dinner.”

  Sawyer held up his bag of cheese puffs with a grin. “We have dinner, and since I saw you give Caleb a handful of euros before he headed out for food, you therefore paid for dinner. So, start talking.”

  Harley opened her mouth to argue but then gave up. What else would they do for the rest of their shift if they didn’t talk? And she had promised him her story.

  She only wished it weren’t so hard to talk about it.

  Sawyer rolled his chair closer, tossing his bag of cheese puffs on the table with the monitors and taking her hand. “Hey, calm down. Your heart is thumping out of control. You don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to, okay?”

  While she appreciated the offer, she still shook her head. “I want to tell you my story.” She took a deep breath, trying to get her heart rate back under control. “I just need a second.”

  “Take all the time you need.” Relieving her of the canister of cookies, he set it on the table so he could take both of her hands in his and give them a squeeze. “We have all night if you need it.”

  That wasn’t quite true. Their shift here at the villa finished in a few hours. But she knew what he was trying to say. They had time. She could do this.

  “I was home on winter break from the University of Colorado Boulder,” she said slowly, figuring she’d start with the easy stuff and work her way into the more difficult part later. “I wanted to make some extra money, so I joined the ski patrol at Silverton Mountain. It was close to my home in Montrose, so it was a perfect setup for me.”

  “What did you study in uni?”

  She smiled at the question, knowing he was asking simply to help her relax. “I was working on my education degree. I was going to be a middle school teacher like my mom.”

  “Nice.” His mouth curved. “Mum always wanted me to go to uni. She tried to talk me into it even after I got out of the army. She’s pretty much given it up as a lost cause these days.”

  She tried to picture him in a classroom environment, a big alpha werewolf surrounded by hipsters and the party crowd. “What kind of classes did she want you to take?”

  He gave her an embarrassed look. “She always wanted me to be
a dentist like my dad. And before you ask, no, I’m not kidding.”

  Harley tried not to laugh, but the thought of him sitting on a stool, fingers shoved in someone’s mouth while he talked about the importance of proper flossing was an image she simply couldn’t resist. It didn’t help when he pretended to be offended, telling her he’d looked good in a white coat and rubber gloves.

  “Okay, I know absolutely nothing about Colorado,” he said when she finally stopped giggling. “I know it’s somewhere in the middle of the United States and it has mountains, but that’s about all. What’s it like?”

  Harley smiled. In actuality, she didn’t know much more about the UK. Yeah, she knew about London and all its major iconic buildings, even some of its history—mostly the stuff on wars, since that was all her history classes ever seemed to care about—but that was it. She definitely couldn’t hold his lack of knowledge of Colorado against him.

  “It’s beautiful,” she told him, glancing down at their clasped hands as she thought about the last time she’d been there. “Montrose is in the western part of the state, close to the border with Utah. It’s surrounded by mountains and national forests, which makes it a wonderful place to live, especially if you love skiing. Heck, I learned to ski before I even learned to ride a bike.”

  “That explains the job on the ski patrol.” Sawyer absently rubbed his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand. “Were you skiing when you became a werewolf?”

  She nodded, a little distracted by the memory. “Silverton Mountain has a few traditional runs, but mostly specializes in backcountry excursions that take skiers in by helicopter and drops them at the top of some of the toughest slopes in the country. The chance to shred fresh snow in places few people have even seen, much less skied, is a lure that draws a certain kind of person.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Sawyer murmured.

  “It can be,” she admitted. “The slopes are steep and rugged, and with no marked trails, there’s always the chance of skiers getting lost or going over a cliff. Avalanches are always a concern, too. They try to make sure the people they take there know what they’re doing and that they stay to routes they suggest, but sometimes…well, a few bad decisions and it’s easy for people to quickly get in over their heads.”