Shades of the Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  With a nod, Anabel got out of the car and began to walk briskly up the sidewalk toward the building. Her jeans fit her well and she looked young enough to be a student here. He followed, unable to keep from admiring the utterly feminine sway of her hips and the perfect heart shape of her rear.

  Pulling open one side of the heavy metal door, she glanced at him quickly before stepping inside.

  The smells were a powerful combination of wonderful and confusing. He thought he could identify bacon and toast (mouthwatering) and cleaning detergent and cigarettes (nauseating).

  The interior of the cafeteria appeared pretty much deserted. Of course, they were too late for breakfast and just a bit early for them to start serving lunch. Most of the kids inside were either studying or hanging out, waiting for the workers to put the food out.

  Anabel eyed the room and then apparently made a decision. She went to the clean and empty counter and stood. “Excuse me.”

  Busy cooking or preparing or talking, most of the people working in the back ignored her. Only one person, a slender girl with straight dark hair and huge brown eyeglasses, looked up.

  “I’m sorry. We’re not open yet,” she said, smiling politely at Anabel.

  “I understand.” Anabel smiled back. “I’m looking for Dena Rogers.”

  That brought the girl over. “I’m sorry. She quit. Or something. It was really unlike her, to just not show up for work like that. We were friends, but she won’t answer her phone.” She shrugged, her expressive face unable to hide her hurt. “I’m hoping she’s all right.”

  “Well, that explains that,” Anabel muttered, managing to sound both shocked and disappointed. “I wanted to surprise her. I am—or was—a good friend of her brother’s. Before he died, he asked me to give her something of his.”

  “Oh no.” Brushing her hair away from her face, the younger woman grimaced. “She loved her brother. She was devastated when he was killed. I think that’s why she joined that church.”

  Church? Tyler barely restrained himself from demanding Anabel get more info. His sister had never been all that interested in religion.

  “Do you know the name of the church?” Anabel asked, smiling sweetly. “Maybe they’ll know how I can find her.”

  “Sure.” Turning, the girl grabbed a receipt book and a pen. “It’s called Everlasting Faith. It’s a nondenominational church in the old shopping center by the train tracks.” Handing the paper to Anabel, she pushed her glasses back up on her nose. “Do me a favor, will you? When you find Dena, ask her to call Lola. Tell her I’ve been worried about her.”

  “I will.” Anabel folded the paper and put it in her purse. “Thank you so much.”

  Once they were back outside, Tyler could barely contain himself. “She has to be wrong. Anabel wasn’t the type to go to church.”

  “Maybe not. But maybe after you died... Grief makes people act in strange ways,” she said, sounding unperturbed. “Let’s go check this place out and see if we can learn anything more.”

  A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of a shopping center that had been converted into a church. The sandstone-colored brick gave the place a mellow appearance, though if not for the sign out front, Tyler would have no idea it had become a house of worship.

  “I swear this used to be a grocery store,” he said, following Anabel as she headed to the smudged glass front door.

  “Shhh.” Finger to her lips, she glared at him. “Remember, no talking to me once I’m in there.”

  Inside, the place appeared deserted. It had been sparsely decorated, an inexpensive oak table with a vase, a mirror and a few chairs. A vibrant blue area rug was the only color in the monochrome room. Tyler supposed that since it wasn’t a Sunday, the church ran on a skeleton crew, but the pastor should be around here somewhere.

  “Can I help you?” A pleasant-faced, older woman with curly gray hair approached. She wore what looked like a seventies housedress and white Keds.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Anabel’s pleasant smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m looking for the pastor.”

  The older woman drew herself up, narrowing her eyes as she studied Anabel. “Don’t I know you? Weren’t you on the news? You’re the one—”

  “Is the pastor here or not?” Anabel cut her off.

  “He’s here.” Still staring at Anabel as if she’d brought the plague into the sanctuary, the woman—apparently the church secretary—spun around to go and then stopped. “His schedule is pretty busy, so I’m not sure he’ll be able to see you,” she said. “You might need to make an appointment and come back another time.”

  Clearly, the place wasn’t exactly a beehive of activity.

  From the rigid line of Anabel’s back, Tyler knew she had to be biting her tongue. “Tell him it’s an urgent matter concerning one of his church members and her deceased brother.”

  Deceased. Tyler suddenly realized he despised that word.

  Though she had to have heard, the secretary hurried off without responding.

  “Nice, wasn’t she?” Tyler commented. “So much for treating others like one wants to be treated.”

  “Shhh.” Anabel shot him a quelling look before turning to eye the hallway.

  A moment later, a tall, barrel-chested man with wire-rimmed glasses and a shiny bald head appeared.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice friendly as he held out his hand. “I’m Pastor Tom Jones. And you are?”

  “Anabel Lee.”

  He laughed as he shook her hand. “It’s great to finally meet someone who’s been burdened with a name as famous as mine. Do you get a lot of people mentioning the raven saying ‘Nevermore’ to you?”

  She grinned back. “Probably as often as you get people singing songs their grandmothers danced to, like ‘Delilah.’”

  “I’m surprised you know it.” He looked thoughtful. “Though you’re right. A lot of our mothers and their mothers loved that guy. Me, not so much.”

  Still smiling, she nodded. “I can imagine.”

  “Now, what can I do for you?” he asked.

  Her expression stilled and grew serious. “I’m trying to locate Dena Rogers. I went by the college cafeteria and was told she’d quit. Someone mentioned she regularly attended this church. I’m hoping you know where I can find her.”

  The pastor studied her, his expression unchanging. “Do you mind telling me what this is about? Lola—the young lady you talked to earlier in the cafeteria—called me. She said you’d brought Dena something from her deceased brother?”

  “Yes.” Anabel nodded. “I did. But that, I’m afraid, is private, for Dena only. Can you tell me where I might find her? Or, if you can’t do that, could you call her and ask her to meet me here?”

  Appearing lost in thought, he finally dipped his chin. “I would if I could, but Dena hasn’t been to church at all the last few Sundays. I can call the number I have on file for her, if you’d like.”

  “Yes, please. If you don’t mind, that would be very helpful.”

  “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  The instant Pastor Tom left the room, Tyler crossed over to stand in front of Anabel. “All we’ve been able to establish is that Dena’s disappeared. We already knew that.”

  “Give it a minute,” she hissed back. “The more people we talk to, the more information we might learn about where she went. I do find it interesting that Lola found it necessary to phone the pastor warning him we might come by.”

  Giving a slow shake of his head, Tyler crossed his arms and moved away to wait. A moment later, the pastor returned. “I called.” He grimaced and spread his hands. “The call went straight to voice mail, like she had her cell turned off. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

  Tyler didn’t think he sounded all that sorry. He reached out, trying
to unobtrusively test the limits of the man’s power. The pastor must have sensed something, because he swatted at the air near his face, as though a mosquito or fly circled him.

  “I’m really sorry,” he repeated.

  Anabel made a sound of disappointment. “That’s too bad. It’s not often I get to deliver something to someone from a relative who died serving our country.”

  “Ouch.” He grimaced again. Glancing at Anabel, he then looked past her. Tyler could have sworn the other man stared directly at him.

  Could Pastor Tom have magical ability? And if he did, could he be the man who’d captured Dena and even now held her hostage?

  Chapter 7

  Trying not to show her frustration, Anabel gave the pastor her number in case anything else turned up, and they left the church. Once in the car, she followed Tyler’s directions and drove to the apartment complex where Dena had lived. Her ghostly companion had gone oddly silent, probably because he found this painful.

  The apartment building, though older, appeared well taken care of. The brick had been painted a bright white, and the blue trim gave it a cheerful appearance. There were two floors, with all the doorways on the outside, and a set of steps at each end. In addition, each unit had one floor-to-ceiling window next to the blue front door.

  “Not too bad,” Anabel said out loud.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind the lack of landscaping.”

  After Tyler’s comment, she realized he was right. There were a few scraggly shrubs and no trees until the edge of the half-dead grassy area. Just parking lot and building. “I wonder what happened.”

  He shrugged. “As far as I can remember, it’s been like this ever since the place was built.”

  As they crossed the parking lot on the way to the stairs, Anabel stopped. An icy chill spread over her, originating in her solar plexus and radiating from there to the tips of her fingers. It wasn’t painful, more like uncomfortable. “Wow.” Placing her hand on her stomach, she took a deep breath. “Do you feel that?”

  Tyler frowned. From the perplexed look on his face, he didn’t. “Feel what?”

  She shook her head, unable to articulate. They continued on, and she’d just about begun to wonder if she’d imagined things when she felt it again. “There,” she gasped. This time, the cold felt like a fist aimed at her stomach. She nearly doubled over, trying not to panic. Dimly, she knew she needed to remember to breathe.

  “Anabel!” Tyler’s voice, sharp and decisive. The sound of him caught her, pulling her back from whatever edge she’d been about to tumble from.

  “That’s not good,” she said, her breath coming shallow and fast.

  “Do you think it’s the warlock?” Fist clenched, he appeared ready to do battle.

  “I don’t know.” She inhaled, forcing out the breath. “It could be. Probably is. But why here? You don’t think he’s keeping her prisoner in her own apartment?”

  “No. I’ve checked the place out thoroughly.” Tyler floated ahead of her. “Come on. It’s this way, up the stairs.”

  The energy’s icy grip on her dissipated after she reached the top of the concrete stairs. Following Tyler to unit 205, she paused in front of the door and tentatively reached out, using the method she’d been taught by Juliet. Focus, focus, focus.

  And nothing.

  Relieved, she exhaled. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

  Unable to tell if Tyler appeared disappointed or glad, she raised her fist and knocked on the door.

  A moment later, she knocked again. “Well, that was a waste of time. But then, since we both knew she wasn’t here—”

  She cut off as the door opened. A tall, slender girl with long, blond hair and heavily mascaraed eyelashes peered out at her. “Can I help you?”

  Stunned, Anabel closed her mouth. “Yes. I’m looking for Dena Rogers.”

  Affecting a bored look, the young lady began to close the door. “She’s not here.”

  Anabel thought quickly and stuck her foot in to keep the door from closing. “And you are?”

  After a yawn, which she didn’t bother to cover with her hand, the girl sighed. “Tammy. Dena’s friend. Roommate, even. She’s been letting me crash here.”

  “For how long?” Tyler demanded, forgetting she couldn’t hear him.

  Anabel glared at him. “Really?” Directing her attention back to Tammy, she narrowed her eyes. “How long has it been since you even saw Dena?”

  Tammy shrugged. “I don’t know. A week. Two weeks. It’s been a while.”

  “Did she tell you where she was going?”

  “No. I’m not her mother.” Scrunching up her freckled face, she grimaced. Despite this, she still managed to look pretty, fresh and innocent. An all-American girl next door, heavily made up. “Are you a cop or something?”

  “No. I’m—I was—a friend of Dena’s brother. He sent something to me and asked me to give it to her.”

  Interest flickered in Tammy’s bright blue eyes for the first time. “The guy who was killed in Afghanistan? I saw pictures of him. He was pretty hot.”

  Unable to help it, Anabel glanced up at Tyler to catch his reaction. To her surprise, he appeared unamused and unimpressed, still eyeing Tammy with apparent distrust.

  “Ask her how she knows my sister,” he demanded.

  “Did you work with Dena?” Anabel asked.

  “No. We both go to the same church.”

  “Everlasting Faith?”

  Surprise registered on Tammy’s face. “Yes.”

  “We just spoke to Pastor Tom before coming here. He didn’t seem to know where Dena was either.”

  “Look.” Tammy shifted her weight from foot to foot, clearly done with the conversation. “I don’t know what you want. I can’t help you.” Then, nudging Anabel’s foot out of the way with her own, Tammy closed the door. A second later, they could hear the sound of the dead bolt turning.

  Anabel sighed. “Another dead end.”

  “For you,” Tyler said. “Wait here.” And he swirled into mist, through the door and into the apartment.

  Great. Damned if she was going to lurk outside someone else’s apartment door while he did who knew what inside. Anabel headed back toward the stairs, bracing herself in case the chill came on. But she made it all the way to her car without reexperiencing anything and she got inside to wait for Tyler.

  A moment later, she shook her head. Tyler was a ghost. He could appear wherever he wanted. Since there clearly wasn’t any danger, he could just meet her at the house.

  She drove away. Still, misgivings plagued her. What had been that negative energy back at the apartment? Should she have waited, just in case whatever it had been attacked Tyler?

  Considering, she almost went back. But her misgivings also directed her to study her own house.

  Everything seemed exactly the same as when she’d left earlier. No open doors, broken windows or signs of forced entry. Outside her own entrance, she stopped, using the focusing techniques she’d learned to see if she could sense any dark energy.

  Nothing came up and hit her in the face.

  Relieved, yet still hesitant, she unlocked the door and went inside. The instant she stepped into her foyer, Anabel knew something was wrong. Off. Her first clue was the way Leroy stood, backed into a corner of her living room, all puffed up and hissing. At nothing.

  In the past, this had meant they had a ghostly visitor, which Anabel could always see, just as well as her cat.

  Not this time. She squinted, peering around the room. Nothing. She could feel the faint tingle of some sort of leftover energy, residue but nothing more.

  Most perplexing. But hopefully not dangerous. Whatever or whoever had been must have gone.

  “It’s all right,” she told her cat, going to comfort him. L
eroy was having none of that. He yowled and hissed and took off as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Anabel stared after him, debating if she should catch him, put him in his carrier and go somewhere else.

  But surely if she were in danger, she’d sense something.

  Leroy reappeared, leaping sideways, the way he did when he’d indulged in too much catnip. Keeping close to the wall, he moved right behind Anabel, still eyeing something only he could see.

  A heartbeat later, Tyler appeared. Anabel glanced at her cat, who continued to stare in a completely different direction.

  “I thought I asked you to wait,” he began. “I checked out the apartment and—”

  “Not now.” She gestured toward Leroy. “Look at him. I don’t see anything, but clearly he does. Can you tell if there’s another ghost here?”

  Frowning, Tyler drifted around the room, sniffing as if he wore his wolf form. Finally, he looked at her and shrugged. “I’ve got nothing. The protective circle is still in place.”

  Leroy didn’t think so. Back arched and black fur fluffed up so much he looked as if he’d touched a live electrical wire, the cat hissed again and jumped sideways. He took off running, disappearing down the hall.

  “Leroy thinks differently.”

  Lazily appraising her with his gaze, Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one with all the power. Did you sense anything?”

  “I tried. I found nothing.” She took a shaky breath, frustrated at the way his nearness got her all hot and bothered. “I’ll try again.” And once more, she followed the same steps she’d used to find Tyler before and pull him free. Focus. Focus. Focus. Fully expecting to find absolutely nothing.

  This time, she felt a rush of darkness, as deadly icy as the feeling that had stabbed her earlier. But as quickly as she felt it, the dark energy cut off, like an iron wall slamming down, blocking Anabel.

  Dizzy, she opened her eyes. “I felt the same thing earlier, at Dena’s apartment. Dark and heavy, just like the force that had you trapped.” Suddenly, she realized what she’d said. “He was here,” she gasped. “I felt the lingering traces of his magic.”