Wolf Landing (Alpha Underground Book 3)

by Aimee Easterling

  “Am I interrupting anything?”

  The words pulled me out of the warm haze that had engulfed me. And when I stood on tiptoes and peered over Hunter’s shoulder, the unusually pinched face of the familiar one-body returned me to the present with a jolt. So that was what had set my mate off.

  Greeting Robert with quirked lips, I couldn’t help thinking that this was not the best possible time for the FBI agent to appear. Because I’d never gotten around to explaining why I’d left so many details out of my earlier explanations of shifter politics, a fact that my human partner clearly resented. My only excuse—that life had been busy for the last couple of days—seemed to pall in the face of the fire in Robert’s eyes.

  “I was just about to call you,” I said, deciding to play it safe by pretending nothing between us had changed. Perhaps if I bluffed hard enough, I’d get lucky and be allowed to put off the tricky conversation until a day when I wasn’t juggling way too many volatile lupine tempers.

  Unfortunately, Robert wasn’t so easily appeased. “What a coincidence since I’ve left about twenty voice messages for you this morning and backed them up with several emails.”

  Okay, now I was confused. Yes, his part in my meeting with Byrd and Franklin meant my partner deserved an explanation of the All-Pack undercurrents. But twenty voice messages? Wasn’t that a bit excessive?

  Taking in my crinkled brow and ignoring the way Hunter’s body continued to stand between us, Robert elaborated. “About the killer. I think we know who he is. But I didn’t want to apprehend the subject without your input since you suspected he might be furry.”

  Despite his annoyance, Robert was polite enough not to add that this was the entire point of my place on the FBI’s payroll. As a liaison, my job didn’t only consist of sniffing out potential werewolf offenders. I was also supposed to get in touch with the appropriate shifter authorities and make sure defenseless one-bodies weren’t harmed if a perp decided to escape by going full-on wolf.

  The second responsibility had been easy to agree to when Hunter was the Tribunal enforcer and could do the dirty work for us. Now, though, the shifter in charge of taking out the killer appeared to be...the killer.

  I swallowed down a strangled laugh, which made both of my companions look at me like I was crazy. “Right,” I said inanely, attempting to decide whether Robert would allow me to send him away for his own safety or whether he was bound and determined to meet the killer with badges out and guns blazing.

  Too stubborn to run, my wolf countered. As usual, she was right. I was going to have to suck it up and manage two unwieldy male egos, all while hunting down the strongest uber-alpha I’d ever met, saving two human children, and ensuring Arborville didn’t toss our lupine members out on their ear.

  Oh, yeah, and did I forget to mention—it was now only thirty-two hours until All-Pack?

  Time to be a team player. Stepping out from behind Hunter’s protective arm, I trailed my fingertips across the exposed skin of my mate’s wrist to soothe his ruffled lupine temper before joining my work partner in the open. “We just figured out how he did it,” I offered, accepting the inevitable and pacifying the second grumpy male with what he craved most—information.

  “He put charcoal on his feet to mask the scent,” I continued. “Wolfie’s tracking his car now, so we should have a lead on his location shortly.” Well, at least I hoped so. “We were going to call you as soon as we pinned down a general search area.”

  And that last part was an outright lie. Behind me, Hunter snorted, which I took to be a good sign. At least it had sounded like a human snort.

  Now it was Robert’s turn to look confused. “I’m not going to ask how your friend is tracking the subject’s car since I’m pretty sure I’d have to arrest him if I saw him in action. But I would like to know why?”

  “So we can find him before he kills again,” I responded slowly. I felt like the one-body and I were talking at cross purposes, and not just because we’d gotten off on the wrong foot. Wasn’t it obvious that finding Grey was our top priority at the present moment?

  “But that was the point of my calls and emails,” Robert answered after a short pause. “We know exactly where he is. We’ve had him under surveillance since early this morning. He’s at home, alone. We’ve just been waiting on your presence before we move in.”

  Chapter 19

  The suburban neighborhood where we ended up was alive with holiday cheer. The kids were out of school and busy concentrating handfuls of snow into projectiles. Distant Christmas melodies drifted through the chilly air. And the scent of spruce needles and baking cookies pointed to the priorities of the resident adults.

  In contrast, the uniformed officers fanned out around me were so tense I expected the air between us to catch fire at any given moment.

  All told, two shifters and a dozen one-bodies stamped cold feet and blew on hands as we put the finishing touches on our upcoming plan to take out a killer. We’d gathered in a park two blocks away from his home, close enough to allow us to arrive with alacrity if Grey decided to flee but distant enough so he wouldn’t realize the size of the surveillance team arrayed across his formerly quiet neighborhood if he happened to go on a morning run.

  Now we just had to figure out how to take out an uber-alpha werewolf without one-bodies being harmed...or clued in to the reality hidden beneath the surface of this unassuming little town.

  “No movement from inside the residence since dawn?” Robert asked now, his gaze carefully failing to meet mine as he debriefed his crew. I’d chosen to ride down with my work partner while my mate followed in my car, an effort to give Robert and me time to mend rickety bridges. But my companion had been all business during the drive, tossing a dossier into my lap that sent my mind spinning and sidetracked me from my original goal.

  The alleged killer, Samuel Goodpasture, didn’t resemble Grey in the least. Maybe the fit, young enforcer could disguise himself as a paunchy, middle-aged one-body. But why go to such trouble setting up and maintaining a human residence if he was as welcome within Stormwinder’s pack as his position suggested?

  All told, I had a sinking suspicion we were barking up the wrong tree. And the reply of the other agent supported that hypothesis.

  “Nothing,” a woman about my age agreed. “We don’t have definitive confirmation that the subject is present yet, either. Our surveillance team only surrounded the property at four AM.”

  I opened my mouth to suggest that perhaps we should know who we were hunting and where they were located before moving in. But then hot, humid breath warmed the unclad nape of my neck. Hunter.

  “I smelled him,” my mate said quietly enough so only Robert and I heard. Despite our difference of opinion earlier, Hunter had become all business as soon as he’d insinuated himself into our mission. He’d gone to scout the site while I peeled off to greet the crew, and I now dismissed my doubts about the upcoming operation as quickly as they’d arrived.

  After all, I trusted Hunter’s nose. If he said Grey was present, then Grey was present.

  The question became—how to pry the killer out of his den without producing casualties?

  “And the p...babies?” I asked my mate, remembering at the last moment to use one-body parlance in case one of the agents overheard.

  This time, Hunter shook his head by way of reply. But we both knew the twins were unlikely to produce a scent trail. It wasn’t as if they would have been crawling around outside, leaving traces of their passing in the snow.

  No, we’d just have to assume that Grey still had the pups under his control and plan accordingly.

  At the mention of hostages, my work partner did finally meet my eye and nod decisively. We’d managed to discuss the pups in transit even if each attempt at wiggling back into my partner’s good graces had failed miserably.

  “We have to assume there are two infant hostages present,” Robert said now, raising his voice to expand our quiet discussion out to the rest of the crew. Anyone
unfamiliar with the agent would have considered his confident tone a sign of professional distance, but I caught the twitching cheek that revealed his inner annoyance. The twins were yet another data point I’d failed to reveal in a timely manner, and I had a feeling it was now a stretch to call the man by my side “partner.”

  Doesn’t matter, my wolf countered. The pups matter.

  She was right, as usual. So I ignored my floundering relationship with the one-body and hoped that my mate at least would back me up when I offered the only plan that made sense. “Hunter and I will sneak in the back to locate and apprehend the suspect. The rest of you should fan out and ensure he doesn’t slip between our fingers.”

  Cold eyes, possessive eyes, and confused eyes met mine in tandem. I expected complaints from all and sundry—agents pointing out the fact that I appeared to be a young, untrained civilian who had no right to give them orders; Robert taking offense at the way I’d pulled leadership of the operation right out from under his feet; and Hunter angry that I was willing to once again place myself in harm’s way when his far more powerful wolf could have done the trick alone.

  But, instead, my mate and Robert both nodded easily while the other one-bodies shrugged and split off to find their duty stations. Finally, together, Hunter and I jogged toward the alley backing Samuel Goodpasture’s residence.

  It was time to bring Stormwinder’s pet enforcer back to heel.

  ***

  Even before we set foot inside, though, I got the distinct impression that the house was empty. I heard the ticking of a clock, the humming of a refrigerator, but not much else. Perhaps our target was sound asleep?

  And, sure, I could see how the enforcer might have considered himself safe enough to nap in this haven far removed from all of shifter-kind. But what about the twins, who would be hungry and wet and screaming for their mother by this point in time?

  No matter how you sliced it, the lack of noise was an ominous sign indeed.

  Still, I took strength from the way my mate and I had so easily slipped back into sync despite the former’s bout of over-protectiveness that morning. Now we didn’t even have to speak as Hunter jimmied open a window then gave me a leg up before clambering in after. Next, while he stripped and shifted, I stuffed his clothes into my backpack for safekeeping and pulled out the sword Wolfie had gifted me when I struck out on my own.

  I didn’t send my inner wolf to bed, though, as I might once have done. Instead, I trusted her to know how and when to flee if imminent danger should arise. In the meantime, I embraced my lupine half’s enhanced senses and instincts, sniffing the air before following Hunter away from the window and deeper into the heart of the dimly lit house.

  The scent of one-body was strong in the kitchen, but no uber-alpha aroma was evident beyond that of my mate. Once again, questions rose up in my mind in the face of the accumulating evidence...or lack thereof. Why would Grey hide his tracks inside while walking freely through the yard? Was Samuel Goodpasture a disguise or an accomplice or something else entirely?

  Trap, my wolf suggested. Her urge to flee was intense, and I had to plant my feet to keep from scooting back out the window I’d so recently come in through.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t think my wolf was right, either. Still, someone had to trip the trigger and find out what was going on in this seemingly innocuous residence. Better us than any of the one-body agents waiting outside.

  Before me, Hunter drifted down the tinsel-lined hallway as silently as a ghost, and I did my best to make minimal noise as I followed in his wake. The gentle ticking of a vintage wall clock was louder now, permeating the space until an abrupt chiming of the hour made me jump in place.

  Hunter paused and peered back over one furry shoulder in response. Calm, he offered succinctly, his wolf form making his inner dialogue even less glib than normal.

  I nodded to show that I was fine, but I couldn’t help counting the number of bell tolls anyway. One, two, three. I shivered—only twenty-seven hours left until All-Pack.

  Shaking away future worries, I allowed my wolf to slip up into my human brain and center us back in the present. Here and now, she reminded me, and Hunter huffed out his agreement.

  The hallway was even dimmer than the kitchen, with no nearby windows bringing in light. Still, I could easily make out two doors along either side, plus the opening on the end leading to a living room at the front of the house.

  Without needing to speak, Hunter and I eased toward the most obvious danger first—the arched entranceway that terminated the hall. Beyond, heavy draperies covered the living area’s windows, but by now I barely noticed the lack of illumination. Instead, I flicked my head rapidly from side to side, taking in the new landscape stretched out before us.

  It wasn’t particularly inspiring. Holiday decorations—a Christmas tree and far too many plastic Santas—only barely brightened the sparsely furnished room. Beyond that, the room was bare save a smattering of beer cans on the coffee table plus the wall clock that had given me such fits hanging just inside the front door.

  I did smell a hint of Grey lingering in this room, but there was nowhere for either wolf or one-body to hide. Instead, now that we’d ensured danger wouldn’t spring at us from the rear, we could turn back toward the more likely den sites opening off the hall.

  Left? Hunter asked, offering me the choice of where to search next. I nodded easily, padding back down the hallway toward the two doors that marked the left-hand wall. Like the others, these portals were firmly closed, which meant we’d potentially alert our prey as soon as my human fingers touched a knob. Best work smart if we didn’t want the pups to turn into bargaining chips before we were ready to make our move.

  Luckily, we had a bloodling on the job. In lupine form, Hunter sniffed beneath the sill of the first door, dismissed it as uninteresting, and moved on. And even though my own nose wasn’t as well-endowed as his in my current form, I still caught a hint of disinfectant wafting through the air. The door in question led to a bathroom—not the most likely place for Grey and his hostages to hole up.

  The second room smelled of drier sheets and we dismissed it as well without bothering to look inside. If all else failed, we’d come back to these potential hiding places. But it was better to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible...although I couldn’t see how an uber-alpha as strong as Grey could have missed the lupine scent Hunter and I brought in with us out of the winter cold.

  Perhaps he’s sleeping, I told myself again. Drugging one-bodies. Kidnapping babies. Surely a nap was an obvious choice after such a long night?

  I didn’t believe a word of my own lies, though. No, if Grey was here, he was waiting, fangs bared and ready to attack. My fingers tightened on my sword and I itched to ease a throwing knife out of its boot sheathe to double my protection.

  But I needed my second hand free because Hunter had halted in front of the first door on the right, his body frozen in the lupine equivalent of a hunting dog’s point. Here, he offered, the single word brimming with excitement and fear.

  The fear, I knew, was on my account. We’d worked together as a team many times before, but never while facing down such a powerful foe as the uber-alpha who lay in wait on the other side of this closed door.

  Down the mate bond, I could feel Hunter’s urge to send me back to safety, to take on our enemy alone. The jumbled emotions clogged both of our brains despite his best attempt to hold them in check, and my legs twitched yet again with the urge to flee.

  But that was the wolf speaking on both of our parts. Hunter’s human half knew that our partnership would never stick if he swaddled me in cotton batting and hid me away like a crystal ornament too precious to risk scratching. So he didn’t complain as I reached toward the door, smelling the other uber-alpha’s musky scent lingering on the handle even as I depressed the lever.

  Then, working in tandem, Hunter flew through the widening gap created as I flung the door open and stepped out of the line of fire.
<
br />   But there was no growling, no gun shots, no struggle. And when I came out from behind the jamb and peered into the bedroom, I saw only a rumpled comforter half falling off the bed and my mate sniffing intently at the floor.

  Otherwise, the room was entirely devoid of life.

  Chapter 20

  FBI agents streamed past us into the house the second Hunter and I stepped outside to sound the all-clear, but I grabbed Robert’s wrist before my partner could join his co-workers. “Wait. I need to talk to you.”

  For the first time in months, my one-time friend twitched away from my touch, and I dropped his arm like a hot potato. Now I knew how Hunter felt when he first joined our pack—being treated like a monster definitely didn’t do the ego any favors.

  But Robert followed my lead anyway, his acrid scent the only evidence of roiling emotions as we exited the mass of scurrying bodies and headed in the opposite direction. “I need to talk to you as well,” he said as we rounded the corner and left the other officers behind. “It looks like this isn’t a werewolf-related case after all, so I believe you can enjoy your holiday in peace. Thank you for your assistance.”

  His words were stiffly cordial but were equally clearly an effort to brush off an unwanted companion. Immediately, my inner wolf’s hackles rose despite my efforts to rein her in.

  “Enjoy my holiday?” I countered. I knew I should instead be talking about the fact that Robert and I were currently working at cross purposes—his confidence that Goodpasture was the killer clashing with the evidence I’d found to point the finger in the opposite direction. Still, Robert’s words hurt and I couldn’t let them pass by unchallenged.

  “Yes, enjoy the vacation time you made a point of asking for weeks ago,” he said, his cheeks beginning to redden with the effort of repressing his emotions. And when he continued, his words had bite. “I’m sure your holiday is unrelated to the shifters who waylaid us in that train tunnel. After all partners have each others’ backs. They don’t keep their own counsel about secrets that could potentially lead to a cold slab in the local morgue.”