Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Big Bad Wolf)

by Charlie Adhara

Cooper leaned forward and kissed Park quickly, light and affectionate. “You’re incredible. The good kind of incredible. And I appreciate how much—” he gestured with his free hand “—work you’ve done on this, for us. I know how hard it’s been, trying to figure out what I want on top of the problems with the job—”

  Park glanced away, a flash of discomfort on his face. “There’re no problems,” he said quickly.

  Cooper let that drop. Another hurdle, another time; it was becoming a bit of an overused motto for him these days. “Okay. My point is we’ve both been busy...adjusting. To everything. But I’ve been using that as an excuse not to have this conversation and I think—I know it’s gotten out of hand.”

  Park’s breathing hitched, very slightly. “What are you saying, exactly? You don’t want...”

  “I’m saying I can’t afford this. Not even close,” Cooper said frankly. “You know I can’t afford it.”

  “But I can.” Park frowned. Slowly he said, “Cooper, I don’t expect you to contribute anything financially.”

  That...didn’t feel good. But Cooper wasn’t sure if it stung because of some outdated, toxic bullshit of a man’s role in a household or if he had legitimate reason to cringe at the idea of giving up his apartment, his beloved neighbors, his security, to bunk rent-free in his boyfriend’s mansion.

  “Look,” Park said, when Cooper was silent too long. “If I want to buy you a big house and can afford a big house, what’s the problem?” He ran a hand through his hair and seemed to force himself to say, “Unless there’s another reason you’re not comfortable with this?”

  Cooper shook his head. “I just... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to spend a bunch of money on me,” he hedged.

  “Cooper, I’m the one who needs the space. If it wasn’t for me, would you even be moving?” Park asked.

  “Well,” Cooper said. “Eventually. Probably.”

  “The way you’re eventually, probably going to buy a bookshelf where the books aren’t the ones holding up the shelves?”

  “Last winter you said they were charming,” Cooper grumbled. “Like being back in college. Where’s your loyalty?”

  “With you. You have all my loyalty and there’s none to spare for DIY home deathtraps.” Park sighed and pulled Cooper toward him. He pressed a kiss to his temple. “Look, if you let me worry about the money, I promise to look for something with less staircases. And then maybe you can stop clutching your pearls if the toilet can be flushed more than once an hour.”

  “No pearls. I draw the line at pearls,” Cooper said, recognizing when he was being distracted but lacking the energy and breathable air to do anything about it.

  Park laughed into his hair, and one hand trailed very lightly down his spine. “But you’d look so, so pretty...”

  Cooper felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and reluctantly pulled out of Park’s arms to give him a mock “how dare you” look.

  Probably for the best. If Park’s thoughts were going anywhere near the same direction as Cooper’s, poor Josh might have returned to something incredible, indeed.

  Cooper pulled out his phone and glanced reflexively at the screen, then paused.

  “What?” Park asked, studying his reaction. “Who is it?”

  Cooper showed him the phone.

  Santiago. His old boss at the BSI. Both their bosses, really. At one time Cooper had even considered her...something. Not a friend—no, they were nowhere near close enough for that—but someone he liked, respected. Someone he sometimes suspected might like and respect him, too. A rare occurrence in his last job. She’d had a legendary career in the FBI and was part of the reason Cooper had even agreed to join the BSI. That and the promise of answers about the man who’d grown claws and ripped his gut out. It was a busy year.

  Then when a cold case at his dad’s house turned hot and his relationship with Park had been revealed, she’d gotten distant, fast. Cooper hadn’t spoken to her at all since officially leaving the BSI to join the Trust.

  “Dayton,” Cooper said, answering the call.

  There was a pause, long enough that Cooper checked they were still connected. Then, “Dayton. This is Santiago.” Another pause. “You’re doing well?”

  “Yeah. Yes. And you?”

  This time he heard a shuffling sound and a door closing from the line. As if Santiago was moving around. She ignored his question. “Are you available to meet? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. In person.”

  Cooper glanced at Park, who was staring intently, head cocked slightly to the side. “Um, yes. All right. When were you—”

  “Today,” she said. “Now or...as soon as possible.”

  “All right,” Cooper said. “Where?”

  She named a residential address surprisingly close to where they were.

  “I can be there in twenty.” Park made a face and Cooper rolled his eyes. “Ol—Agent Park is with me. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Santiago sighed. “No. I was hoping he would be. This concerns both of you.”

  * * *

  Well, he would have made it there in twenty if it weren’t that meddling DC traffic. As it was, they turned onto a leafy, residential street over half an hour later and parked in the shade.

  “Do you think it has something to do with Dr. Freeman?” Park asked as they got out of the car.

  Cooper startled. “What?”

  Dr. Emily Freeman was not a name he’d heard in a while. It had been his and Park’s first case with the Trust. After she had disappeared with biological samples proving the existence of werewolves in her pocket and blood on her hands—well, accessory to murder on her hands, anyway—Cooper and Park had tracked her clean across the continent to the West Coast, but had lost her somewhere in British Columbia. Jurisdiction issues with the Canadians had eventually sent them back home. For the next month the Trust had been on high alert waiting for Freeman to reach out to her old contacts, but there was no sign of her and eventually her case had slipped into the unsolved files.

  It was not an auspicious start to their new careers. But thankfully every case they’d taken on since then had been successful. He and Park made good partners. Well, they had known that almost from the start. But recently, since moving in together, they seemed more in sync than ever.

  And it wasn’t just Park that Cooper enjoyed working with. He’d been worried joining an agency consisting almost entirely of wolves would be isolating, that he’d hold Park back from making connections. But if anything it was the other way around. For the first time in a long time, Cooper was happy with his job and even getting along well with his colleagues. And now this mysterious call from Santiago.

  “What makes you think it has anything to do with Freeman?”

  Park shrugged. “Don’t know. She’s been on my mind lately. Something Cola said.”

  Cooper hummed questioningly as they crossed the street.

  “She thinks if Freeman’s smart she’ll play the long game. Work on forming a new alliance with another wolf who wants to go public, rather than reaching out to any of her old human contacts.”

  “We know Freeman’s smart,” Cooper said absently.

  Down the street he saw Santiago pacing the sidewalk outside a muted blue row house and fanning herself with a folder. Short, Latina and dressed in half a pantsuit—jacket missing—at first glance she looked exactly the same as always. But as they got closer Cooper could see dark shadows under her eyes that weren’t there before, new spidery lines around her mouth and an involuntary flexing of her fingers when she ran them through her hair, like she was one more bit of bad news away from ripping it out.

  “Dayton.” She caught sight of them and visibly collected herself. “You’re late.” It was so reminiscent of their years working together that Cooper stumbled slightly on the sidewalk. Santiago seemed to notice it, too, and her eyes ti
ghtened for a moment before looking behind Cooper. “And Agent Park. I appreciate you coming. Both of you. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble getting here.”

  Park inclined his head slightly in that way of his that always made him look like some kind of benevolent god accepting a loving sacrifice. When Cooper tried the same he looked like he’d suddenly dropped food down his shirt. “We were only in Foxhall.”

  Santiago made a face. “Christ, what in the hell were you doing there?”

  Cooper heroically resisted the urge to look smugly at Park, but felt his inaudible sigh regardless.

  “We were surprised to hear from you,” Park said. “Is there something wrong?”

  Santiago wiped her shoulder-length hair away from her neck. Another flex of her fingers. “Missing person. White male. Age forty-seven. Two weeks ago, in North Carolina. He was working as the groundskeeper at a retreat down there.”

  “And the BSI thinks this is wolf related?”

  Santiago laughed. “Oh, it’s wolf related. Our missing man is a wolf.”

  Cooper frowned and glanced at Park, seeing his own confusion reflected there. “So it’s a Trust case?”

  “There is no case. Not officially.” Santiago’s eyes shifted between the two of them. “Our missing man started working for this retreat in March. Last week he abruptly put in his notice and not a single soul has seen or heard from him since. There’s no sign of a struggle. No friends or family to report him missing. He just dropped off the face of the earth and nobody cared.”

  “You care,” Cooper said, and Santiago shot him a sharp look. “You noticed,” he amended.

  Santiago started fanning herself again and looked toward the house windows, impossible to see through with all the glare from the sun. “His disappearance was brought to my attention. But there are complications.”

  “You’re the Supervisory Agent in Charge of the BSI,” Park said mildly. “What kind of complications prevent you from opening an official investigation? Or from passing it along to the Trust?”

  “You’re Trust agents, aren’t you? Here. Here’s me passing it.” She held the folder out, but when Park grabbed the other end, Santiago didn’t let go. “Listen, I know why you left the BSI. I get it. But know bias is everywhere. Even when you don’t recognize it at first. Even if it’s coming from you.” She looked specifically at Park. “Remember that.”

  “I—” Cooper started, and the door to one of the houses opened behind them and Santiago cursed quietly, spinning in place to face the interruption.

  “Len?” A tall Latina woman was standing hesitantly on the threshold, hands still wrapped around the door’s edge as if ready to slam it shut again. She was about Cooper’s age, had strikingly long hair in a sloppy braid and was wearing loose, well-loved shorts and a T-shirt. She wore no shoes and she stood poised on the balls of her feet in a way that reminded Cooper a lot of Park. There was no real way to know when someone was a wolf—not unless they shifted in front of you, wholly or partially—but living with Park and working on a team that consisted almost entirely of wolves, he had started to notice little tells. Stance was one of them.

  Sure enough, when Cooper glanced at Park, he was staring at the woman in the doorway with an intent sort of recognition. But no. That wasn’t right. This was more than the soft, warm recognition of a shared identity.

  Park looked pale. Drained. Slapped. This was personal.

  “Oh,” the woman said. “It’s you.”

  Park blinked, then jerked his head in agreement, a caricature of the smooth nod of minutes before. “Ms. Muñoz.”

  “You remember me.” She nodded to herself. “There was a time I prayed the Shepherd would forget my face. But today I’m glad you have not. It saves us time.”

  Santiago sighed. “We should finish this inside.”

  Chapter Two

  The living room had floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves. Cooper liked built-in bookshelves. He’d always dreamed of having some of his own. Floor-to-ceiling ones that could house an extensive collection. In his more fanciful moments, there was an attached rolling ladder to go with them. Now all he had to do was voice the dream out loud and he knew it would be bought for him, ladder and all. That knowledge didn’t bring him quite as much pleasure as he’d have thought.

  These bookshelves had a good number of books on them, too, but there were other things tastefully arranged along the shelves that gave Cooper clues as to who lived here. Gorgeous handmade pottery with rough glaze. A couple of photos too far away to see clearly. A spherical desk light wrapped in wires and cut metal shapes he eventually realized were there to cast picture shadows over the walls when you turned it on.

  More than any other reason, he liked looking at these particular shelves because it was the perfect position to keep a subtle eye on Park, seated in a chair right in front of them, and track the emotional breakdown he may or may not be on the verge of.

  “Elena didn’t think you’d recognize me,” Ms. Muñoz said, indicating Santiago, who had stayed standing in the doorway to the living room. Muñoz herself was seated across the room from Park, about as far as she could get. She had her knees pulled up to her chest in a defensive posture, and though her hands were curled loosely beneath her raised thighs, Cooper had glanced a hint of claws. “But the Shepherd isn’t exactly known for forgetting a face.”

  Park was sitting very still in his own seat. “I remember you,” he said. “Sofia Muñoz. Connecticut, fourteen years ago. Kreuger’s pack.”

  “It was once. Not anymore. You made sure of that.”

  “Kreuger broke the rules,” Park said evenly.

  “Whose rules?” Muñoz laughed. “Yours? He just saw what your family had and wanted it for himself.”

  Park frowned slightly. “He conscripted the most vulnerable people into his pack. He cut off support and watched and waited until they were at their lowest and had nowhere else to turn, and then swooped in acting like he was some kind of savior. Like they should be grateful for whatever scrap of dignity he allowed them. Like he wasn’t the one systematically cutting off every other option they had but to kneel at his feet.”

  “Don’t make it sound like Thomas was some unique kind of monster, like what he did was different from any rebel pack or, hell, human government assistance.”

  “No,” Park agreed. “But we’re not human, are we? And when he’d grown as big as he could absorbing desperate lone wolves, he started attacking other packs.”

  “So the gods up on the hill sent the Shepherd down to put an end to him.”

  Park glanced at Cooper and then quickly away, but not fast enough that Cooper didn’t see the fear in his eyes. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “No, you didn’t. You broke him.” Muñoz’s voice had quieted, but the words somehow felt stronger, hit harder. Like they carried with them an anger and pain that had done nothing but fester and grow in the dark all these years. “You fought him and you broke his soul. Reached inside and snapped the very thing that made him who he was.”

  Muñoz’s gaze grew distant, remembering. “I suppose someone like you doesn’t understand what it’s like, seeing your alpha hurt, defeated. But I felt it in my bones. A creeping, sick feeling. The wrongness of him weeping, curled up on the floor. The fear that he’d never get up again. What that meant for me, for our pack, my family.”

  “You and Kreuger were...involved.” Park stated it, didn’t ask.

  “I loved him. Well, he was my alpha, how could I not love him?” Muñoz said matter-of-factly, and Cooper shifted slightly. “But yes, we were mates, too. And then one day he was gone. Different. Ruined.” Muñoz smacked her lips in disgust. “And there you were. Just standing by, rebuttoning your shirt cuffs like you’d seen it all before. Like you were...bored.”

  She put her feet down to the floor and leaned forward, voice going even quieter. “Do you remember what happened next?” />
  Park looked bored now as well. But Cooper had long since realized that the blanker his face, the more he was hiding. “You attacked me as I was leaving.”

  Muñoz leaned back and spoke to Santiago without looking at her. “See, Len? I told you he’d remember. Though attack is a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it? I’d barely landed on you before you’d plucked me off like an irritating bug. No. That’s all you said. No. But I’d never felt dominance that strong. I had no choice but to obey.”

  There was a deep, uncomfortable silence before Muñoz continued. “Kreuger was never the same, you know. He ran south. Somewhere out of the Park pack’s reach. And I was too scared to go with him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Park said, and Muñoz shrugged and shook her head as if knocking the apology away with her shoulders.

  “For months I was terrified you’d be back and no one could stop you. It changed me, too. Changed the whole course of my life,” she whispered. “I was twenty-one then. A baby.” She looked critically at Park. “Seeing you now, I guess you must have been young then yourself. But to me you were as ageless as El Cucuy and twice as frightening.”

  Park blinked slowly, the barest acknowledgment that he was even listening, but to Cooper it was as obvious a reaction as if Park had begun to weep with pain.

  Enough. Cooper stood abruptly and all three people in the room startled, looking to him. Feeling awkward, he jerkily crossed the room and stood behind Park. Trying to look as casual as possible, he positioned his forearms on the back of chair, letting the fingertips of his left hand rest lightly on Park’s shoulder. Park immediately leaned into the touch.

  Ms. Muñoz watched the interaction with undisguised curiosity, and Cooper met her eyes defiantly.

  You’re not allowed to hurt him. The thought came to Cooper with unexpected ferocity. He wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but he saw Ms. Muñoz’s eyes widen slightly.

  He cleared his throat. “Not to be insensitive, but perhaps we could get to the point.”

  Santiago spoke from her position in the doorway. “Thomas Kreuger became untouchable after that. Forbidden from rebuilding his own pack. Unwelcome in another’s. He became a pariah. And now he’s disappeared.”