Alaskan Wolf

by Linda O. Johnston

  Mariah was enthralled. And even a little frightened.

  Patrick had driven them to an edge of the glacier field that she had not yet visited.

  She had a special reason for being there this night. She was to be Patrick’s backup.

  He had trusted her enough to tell her that he was part of a covert military unit: Alpha Force. Although he didn’t say much about it, she gathered he wasn’t the only member who was a shapeshifter. Amazing!

  She recalled that Emil Charteris had suggested that what was happening at the glaciers was being caused intentionally by the U.S. government. If so, why send Patrick to learn what was happening?

  Unless his mission was to ensure that no one figured out the truth.

  But he had trusted her, and for now, at least, she would trust him.

  And get as involved as he allowed her to with his astonishing ability to change into a wolf.

  The wolf. The one she had seen here before, which had so enthralled her.

  Had she recognized Patrick on some level?

  He had explained the shifting process as he’d driven. Sounded simple enough. Sort of.

  And now they were parked way off the road, yet not far onto the ice.

  “During daylight,” he said, “while I’m not out mushing, I talk to people around here as much as possible—civilians, cops, tourists—to learn who’s seen the calving and when and where. I just act like an interested new resident, make notes later, try to figure out some kind of pattern, though I haven’t been successful yet—or learning about who killed Shaun. At night, I go out on the glaciers whenever possible, shifted, so my senses are enhanced, trying to absorb whatever information I can. That’s what I’m after tonight. You ready?” The smile he shot her, in the vehicle’s faint inside light that he had turned on, made her insides somersault. Damn, but he was one sexy guy—even with the night’s incredible activities pending.

  Maybe because of them, although Mariah certainly had never considered that something as unbelievable as a gorgeous man changing into a beautiful wolf could be a turn-on.

  “Definitely,” she responded, realizing she meant it.

  Patrick turned and grabbed his backpack from the seat behind them. He pulled out the bottle of liquid that Mariah had found so mysterious only a few days before.

  The bottle that had led to such anger and mistrust between them.

  It had become a symbol to her of all that Patrick was.

  He grabbed a small plastic cup from the pack, unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured some liquid. “Here goes.” He drank it, then pulled the light from the pack, too, and opened the vehicle’s door.

  Outside, on the ice, he turned on the battery-operated lantern. Its light was bright—the intensity, Mariah knew, of a full moon. The nearby glacial ice shimmered beneath it, giving a surreal glow to the entire, craggy area.

  She bit her lip beneath the scarf she had wrapped around her face as she watched Patrick step into the light.

  “Keep close watch over me,” he said, still smiling. “But no pictures.”

  “Got it.”

  He began shedding his clothes despite the cold, although he kept his jacket over his shoulders.

  And then the expression on his face changed into one that suggested pain but apparently wasn’t. He’d already told her there was discomfort associated with the stretching and bending in his shift, as every part of him changed size and configuration. But it was a discomfort he had long ago grown used to.

  Mariah swallowed hard as she saw Patrick’s shape distort, even as his face elongated, the slight shadow of his beard lengthening into silvery fur.

  “Oh, Patrick,” she whispered, unsure whether to be enchanted by what she saw or sorrowful. They were very different, and yet he was so magnificent as, soon, he shook off the remaining clothing he had worn as a man and leaped away from them, a gorgeous wolf.

  He looked at her, his eyes clearly cognizant of her and who she was. Really amazing!

  “Let’s go explore the glacier, Patrick,” she said. “I’ve got your back.”

  Hours later Patrick once again sat behind the steering wheel of his car. Mariah was in the passenger seat. They were nearly ready to head back to the dogsled ranch, where Mariah would stay the rest of the night with Patrick in his small apartment.

  “No calving at all tonight,” he confirmed. “I didn’t see any, even when I went off on my own.”

  “Any sounds that weren’t normal?” she asked. She amazed him. Somehow she seemed to have accepted this night’s occurrences as if they happened every day.

  Which they could, for him. But for her…

  “Nothing this time.” He reached across the console and placed his hand behind her neck, drawing her closer.

  She seemed to hesitate for a second, staring inquisitively into his face.

  “You okay with everything?” he asked, suddenly uncertain, and not happy about it. What if she found being his backup acceptable—but not him?

  Her smile was radiant—and sexy as hell—as she said, “Much to my amazement, I’m more than okay with everything, Patrick.” And then she leaned toward him and gave him one hot, suggestive kiss—a harbinger of what he eagerly anticipated for the rest of this night.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, Mariah was exhausted. And exhilarated.

  Sure, she had always adored animals, especially wildlife. But who would have imagined that someone like Patrick even existed—or was so intriguing while in wolf form?

  Even better, he was incredibly sexy—a guy who was imaginative and sublimely energetic in bed.

  She was back at the B and B now. Speaking of bed, the one in her room looked appealing. After being with Patrick during his changes the night before, she had joined him in his apartment at the dogsled ranch—where they’d been in bed, sure. But she had gotten virtually no sleep.

  She had notes to enter onto her computer now, for her article. She couldn’t allow the opportunity to slip by to describe the wildlife she had seen last night, on the ice.

  The real wildlife. She would definitely keep her promise to Patrick and not mention the wolf who had so enthralled her last night. But there were other wolves that were appropriate for her to write about. She’d seen three of them who had apparently been attracted to a potential new pack member, and had stalked toward Patrick at one point.

  She had snapped their pictures, but none of the part-time canine they had come to visit.

  She had also seen a pair of grizzly bears, visible in the distance beneath the now-waning moon.

  Who knew what other wildlife wonders she might see tonight on the ice? Since, during daylight in human form, Patrick had experienced nothing vital in his quest to understand the decline of Great Glaciers National Park, he was going to change again, and she would once more be his backup.

  Incredible, how much she loved the idea!

  And might even love him…

  Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her bag. It was Patrick.

  “Hi,” she said, amused at her own breathless ness.

  “Hi. You doing okay?”

  “Sure am. You?”

  “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

  “Me, too.” She laughed. “We sound like a couple of shy kids who don’t know what to say to each other.”

  “Yeah. But like I said—”

  “I can’t wait until tonight,” she finished.

  They fell into a pattern over the next week. Mariah would take catnaps in the afternoon, then either show up at the dogsled ranch in the evening or meet Patrick at Fiske’s for a quick dinner first.

  And to help him, she, too, asked questions not only about wildlife but about who had seen glaciers calving and the circumstances surrounding the events. She’d passed on to Patrick the few snippets of information she’d gathered.

  Later, they would take her SUV and go out in the field, usually onto the glaciers. There, Patrick would change and prowl the area. Mariah would watch as he shifted, then fol
low to ensure his safety.

  She also got really great pictures of some of the area’s nocturnal animals, usually because the weather was clear and the waning moon provided enough light. Occasionally, she would bring Patrick’s magic light with her and set it up to help in her photography. She located more grizzly bears, some bats, flying squirrels and even lizards, as well as sea otters and sea lions in the bay.

  And had a marvelous time with her research.

  Several times, they were out on the ice when another horrendous calving occurred, although not, fortunately, nearby. The wolf that was Patrick would always lope off in that direction, but he told Mariah, once he had changed back, that he still hadn’t learned the cause.

  Most often, their time outside was uneventful.

  Out of curiosity, they headed once toward the area where Emil Charteris and his family had established their camp—found thanks to a hint from Flynn Shulster, who had previously sailed by it. It was located at a site containing remote tourist cabins, way out of town along the bay.

  Mariah didn’t get especially close to the camp, though she did see the area from a distance, including the pontoon craft along the dock on which the small submersible was mounted. She assumed everyone was asleep, so it seemed safe enough when Patrick prowled nearby in wolf form.

  But he found nothing useful there either, he told her later. No overt indication of how Emil was studying the glaciers. That remained a mystery to Patrick, which utterly frustrated him. Surely, if anyone had an inkling about what caused the glaciers to fall apart so rapidly, it would be the glaciologist who’d been studying them for so many weeks.

  Patrick remained determined to find answers, with or without input from Emil Charteris, although he told Mariah that his commanding officer had started talking about a time for him to end his quest and return to his base.

  Not something Patrick was pleased about. Especially since he’d hit a dead end as to who had killed his friend—and his official military backup—Shaun.

  Patrick kept Mariah apprised about how her security clearance was going, but since only a week had passed nothing was certain.

  He had obviously decided to trust her anyway, since he talked freely about his military unit, Alpha Force, and how its shapeshifters and the non-shapeshifting backup members, like her, worked together.

  That was sometimes what they would talk about long into the night, back in Patrick’s apartment after engaging in extended and delightful bouts of lovemaking. Other times, she would tell him how her article was progressing, and how she continuously parried her boss, friend and editor Harold’s inquiries and demands that she spend more time doing investigative journalism—like learning more about the official inquiry into Shaun’s murder.

  She did ask questions of the appropriate cops now and then, including Detective Gray and the talkative officer, Pilke. She reported to both Harold and Patrick that, if they were zeroing in on any suspects, they weren’t about to tell her.

  One thing she didn’t tell Patrick, though, was how much she argued with Harold about her assignment here. He wanted her to come back to Juneau with whatever photos and information she already had, and get her damned article written.

  She kept putting him off, wanting to remain in town as long as possible. Hinting she might be able to write a story on the murder if she hung out here a little longer—giving no particulars, because she had none.

  And, as with Patrick’s ongoing discussions about his own mission, she knew their idyllic interlude couldn’t last forever.

  They had been enjoying their routine for over a week now. Tonight, they would meet for an early dinner at Fiske’s. They’d dropped in there often, and Mariah relished their pending obscure discussion of where to head later that night, when Patrick would again change and scour the glacier field for clues about its destiny. It was fun to come up with ways to couch Patrick’s quest, and how he would engage in it that night, in vague references that no eavesdropper would be able to interpret.

  As always, when she arrived, the place was filled, and the roar of conversations filled the air. No piano, though. The musician must be on a break.

  Mariah looked around. No Patrick…not yet. She didn’t see anyone else she knew, either—not Emil Charteris or his family, or Flynn Shulster and his entourage of fans.

  Spotting a couple rise at the center of the room, she hurried toward their table to stake a claim, crunching her way on peanut shells. She sat on a chair facing the door to watch for Patrick.

  “Glass of wine?” Thea Fiske asked, her pen poised, as always, over the pad of paper in her hand. “Beer?”

  “Wine, please,” Mariah said. “The house red.”

  “Waiting for someone?” Thea’s wide grin was suggestive. Mariah knew the bar owner had noticed her with Patrick.

  “Could be.” Mariah smiled back—just as the loud conversations around her suddenly hushed.

  Confused, she met Thea’s scowl. Then the woman stared toward the door. Mariah glanced that way and saw Patrick. He met her gaze and started toward her.

  “Another one of those omens.” Thea shook her head so vehemently that her plait of gray hair seemed to vibrate.

  “But that superstition—”

  “Last time it happened that musher was murdered, right?”

  Mariah couldn’t argue with that.

  “Killer’s still out there,” Thea said. “Mark my words, something else’ll happen. Be careful.” Thea waddled off, her short, squat form disappearing into the noisy crowd.

  “Are you okay?” Patrick pulled the other chair out and sat, looking quizzically at Mariah. The room again buzzed with conversations. The omen—or silly coincidence—was over.

  “I’m fine.” Mariah aimed a sexy smile toward him. “And looking forward to our evening.” She felt her expression fade. “But did you notice the way the place got so quiet? I’m not superstitious, but—well, I’ve learned there are things in this world that people generally don’t believe in.” This time her smile was brief and wry. She described the silence the first time she had noticed him walk into Thea’s, and what the restaurateur had said about it. “She claimed this evening that it had been a harbinger of Shaun’s murder—and it just happened again.”

  “Interesting, but we’ve got other things to worry about.”

  “Like?”

  “Like what to order for dinner. And our plans for later this evening.”

  He obviously wasn’t worried. And if anyone believed in woo-woo kinds of stuff, surely Patrick would be among them. Mariah began to relax.

  But she was glad to sip her red wine when Thea brought it over. It might take some of the edge off her concerns.

  Patrick and she both ordered pot roast and potatoes, the day’s special. Thea served it fairly quickly, with a meaningful glance that Mariah interpreted to be an ongoing warning.

  She appreciated the woman’s concern, she supposed, but there were more things to worry about than superstitions.

  Like, would Patrick find any new clues about the glacier issues while prowling tonight, or anytime soon? Would she be able to help him learn anything new?

  And would she see, and be able to photograph, any as-yet-unseen form of local wildlife for her article?

  They soon finished eating, and Patrick paid their tab despite Mariah’s offer to split it. They walked out of the restaurant together, and Mariah immediately noticed both the chill and the silence as the door closed behind them.

  But Mariah didn’t have time to get cold before he bent down and set her on fire with a kiss that suggested all they would do much later tonight. “You ready?” he asked.

  “Always.”

  They were only partway down the block, heading toward Patrick’s car this time, when Mariah heard running footsteps behind them. Patrick turned as she did.

  Carrie Thaxton seemed frantic as she caught up with them. “I’m so glad I found you, Mariah. My father—I can’t believe what he’s doing with those poor animals. Jeremy is with him, trying t
o talk him out of it, but I never thought my own father…”

  “What animals?” Mariah asked. “And what’s he doing?”

  “Wolves. He’s killing them, or at least threatening to. I don’t understand why, but he says it’s part of his study about what’s going on with the glaciers. I think he must be going crazy, though, since he really hasn’t given me any answers. I can’t call the cops—they might arrest him. But maybe he’ll listen to someone else. I hate to ask, but could you come to our camp and help Jeremy and me?”

  Patrick got in his car to follow Carrie. He wished he had been able to convince Mariah to stay in Tagoga. Something didn’t feel right. But she had insisted on coming along.

  He would simply have to protect her. Only, it might not be so simple. In any event, his handy backpack was behind his seat. As usual, when he was outside his apartment, it held more contents than those he needed for shifting.

  As he drove, he made a couple of calls. Unable to reach Wes Dawes, he left a message. “Mariah and I are on our way to the research camp maintained by Emil Charteris and his family. His daughter, Carrie, asked for our help. Do me a favor, and put the local cops on notice that there might be something going on. Hopefully, I’ll be able to use this visit for some research, too. I’ll call again if we need assistance.”

  His next call was to his commanding officer. But since Major Drew Connell was thousands of miles away, at Ft. Lukman in Maryland, all he could do was report where he was going and why.

  “Just so you know, I’ve got someone on his way to act as your backup,” Drew told him. “Should arrive in a few hours. Can you wait till then?”

  “No way.” But he did give Drew what information he could about the location of Emil Charteris’s camp. “In case he gets here and can’t reach me immediately on my cell phone, tell him to head there.”

  “Roger that,” Drew told him. “And…be careful, Patrick.”

  “I’ll be fine. Mariah’s got my back.” He smiled at her, even as the silence at the other end of the phone shouted Drew’s dubiousness about how effective Mariah might be. Or even whether she could be trusted. “I’ll report in later,” he finished, and hung up.