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He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. “You won’t receive a formal invitation until your involvement in the investigation is complete. Thing is, humans are capable of change, but most don’t. If they survive the initial transformation to earn a seat at the table, they kick underneath the cloth, harder and harder, at anyone and anything they can reach, until the head of table ends the mischief.”
“Why tell me any of this?”
“On paper, it’s my job to protect the Otherworld from you and you from the Otherworld. Communities value privacy, lest we reignite the passion for torches and pitchforks. In the wild, however . . . ” Fog rolled over the hood. In the formless grey the man seemed somehow lawless and abiding, as if within there had never been waged a war between wolves evil and good as the Cherokee proverb suggested. There had only ever been one wolf, slabbed in tar and violence underneath a cold desert moon, and he observed me now with amber eyes and an unreadable smile. “Mrs. Finn will tell you the badge I carry is a scythe melted down.”
“You kill people.”
“Monsters.”
“Not a denial, Caelan.”
“Monsters wear all skins. One look at your cat will tell you that.”
Taking a deep breath, I watched the fog drift. “Wyatt and Lisa?”
“Haven't seen anything inexplicable.”
“Are they safe from the psycho who did this?” On top of everything else, I couldn’t even begin to fathom why someone would watch me, let alone who. “Am I safe to stay with them?”
“I reckon you are, for a time. A game trail runs between your house and the Vilkas orchard. According to Mrs. Finn, the camera that captured images of our suspect is one of several around the property used for monthly hunts. They weren’t due to collect the SD cards for another week, but Stephen’s death prompted them to check.”
“Who is he?”
“We’re working on it. Footage is blurry. Seems a spider took a shine to the camera. Until I have more detail, take extra care to notice your surroundings.”
Of course. I rubbed my forehead. “So if I do everything right and manage to survive whatever the hell is happening here, I then have to survive becoming a werewolf. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“That’s life,” he said quietly.
“How do you strike someone from your invite list?”
He squeezed my knee. At the same time, his bright, inquisitive eyes remained focused on mine. “You understand the card, don’t you, Miss Davins?”
Denial heated my tone, yet my face remained cold and wet. I thumbed a tear—“Shit.”—and angled my knee away from his warm, human touch. His hand returned to his lap. Gathering my hair to one side, I tilted my head toward the window to expose the pale curve of my throat. “Say two months from now we catch the murderer and your boss gives the go-ahead. I accept. You what, lean over and give my neck a nibble?”
He shook his head. “I never bite with the intention of turning.”
“Never?”
“You’re addressing a lone wolf, Miss Davins, a population-controlled subspecies at that. I follow different guidelines than the average werewolf.”
I gave him some serious side-eye. “You’re not fixed, are you?”
“God, no!” He chuckled. “No bites, no whelps, them’s the rules.”
“That why you’re so keen on maintaining a business atmosphere?”
“Fun’s allowed,” he drawled with an eye to my neck as I smoothed my hair back into place. “But where deeper feelings develop, the instinct to create proves difficult to resist. I’ve seen the results and choose to stay well clear of entanglements. Stressed enough keeping my own hide intact.”
“Shame,” I said. “So if not you, who?”
“If you decide to join us, you’ll be paired with a transmission specialist to get turned into a local Were variant or another species native to the area. Northern states have high densities of werewolves. Given your proximity and relationship to Talon pack, Mrs. Finn would mentor you. She does a good job with the survivors.”
“Survivors?”
“The first transformation is harder on the human body than on natural born werewolves. Humans weren’t built to shapeshift. The body doesn’t always figure it out; sometimes it screws up the change.”
"And if I decline your invite?”
