Undercover Wolf

None had been returned.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Drew broke away from his discussion with Quinn and Patrick and stood at the front of the room in front of the U.S. flag to address the whole gathering. Quinn did not look pleased, but he moved quickly toward her, beyond the couple of rows filled mostly with others in camo uniforms—both shifting and nonshifting members of Alpha Force. Kristine had already noticed that among them was Dr. Melanie Harding-Connell, a local veterinarian and Drew’s wife. They’d had a baby a few months ago, and the little girl, Emily, was sleeping in a nearby stroller. Melanie was not a member of the military and was also not a shifter, although her husband was both.

More than once, Kristine had wondered what little Emily’s shifting abilities might eventually be. Her understanding was that the gene was dominant, so the baby would grow into a werewolf.

Interesting, that Melanie would choose to marry and have an unusual child. Kristine was aware that most shifters were the result of mixed marriages. She loved working with shifters, but marrying one? Giving birth to a baby shifter?

How would a nonshifting parent cope?

Maybe she was too traditional, despite being part of Alpha Force, but give her a nice, calm, loving marriage someday, preferably to another soldier, and a home filled with regular kids. Kids who were loved. Well cared for. A family that was way different from her own disastrous childhood.

Hell, she’d risen above all that. It had brought her here, where she belonged.

Quinn sat down beside her on the aisle seat, nodding grimly. She, too, remained silent. She knew he had a close relationship with his brother and could only imagine what he was feeling now, with Simon the center of a situation that could only be bad, whatever the explanation. She had an unwelcome urge to reach over and squeeze Quinn’s large hand, now resting on his leg, in a gesture of comfort, but that wasn’t appropriate.

“I think you all know why we’re here,” Drew said. He stood in front of the group, speaking without a microphone since everyone had gathered at the front of the room. He probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Kristine had after their quick briefing last night, but he looked alert, his golden eyes sweeping the crowd. “Even so, I’ll describe my understanding of the situation.”

He briefly went over what he had said to Quinn and her last night. There’d apparently been no further information gathered since then. Two tourists were fatally mauled. Simon and Grace, who had been honeymooning in the area, were missing. The news had been picked up by local media but national coverage was minimal. So far.

“Are you certain the two things are related?” This came from one of the two men in suits seated in the first row near the generals. The speaker was now standing. Kristine recognized him from the wedding: Darren Olivante, team leader for domestic projects at the Defense Special Projects Agency—the agency within the Department of Defense that had assisted in the creation of Alpha Force and now helped monitor it.

As Olivante turned to glance around the room, Kristine noticed that his salt-and-pepper hair was longer than the traditional cut of the military members he worked with. He wore glasses and a challenging expression on a round and flabby face.

General Yarrow rose and walked to the front of the room beside Drew. He, too, had been at Grace and Simon’s wedding. Although he was headquartered at the Pentagon like the Defense Special Projects Agency, he also maintained an office at Ft. Lukman. Kristine hadn’t seen him around here lately, so he must have dashed here for this meeting.

The general was in his sixties but well preserved, and his hair, although behind a receding hairline, was still black. The wrinkles on his face seemed to show up mostly when he scowled, and he maintained a strong-looking physique.

“We have received no evidence that the killings and the disappearance of our two officers are related, but it’s a potentially logical assumption,” the general said. “Of course, given the special nature of Alpha Force and its members, we’re hoping the Parrans weren’t involved in mauling those tourists, but the information we’ve been given indicates that the wounds appear to have been caused by at least one wild animal, probably canine. That could indicate—”

Quinn stood beside Kristine. She tried to grab him, to warn him not to interrupt, but it was too late. His otherwise handsome face had turned an angry shade of red, and he shouted, “If you’re insinuating that my brother and his wife attacked some humans for no reason while shifted, forget it. Isn’t this Alpha Force organization intended to be a pack of sorts? Pack members have each other’s backs. We don’t level false accusations at one another.”

The DSPA official had remained standing. He glared at Quinn, then turned toward General Yarrow. “I think this is a good example of why the plans we’ve been discussing are the way to go, General,” he said. “And why it’s been so difficult to ensure that funding for Alpha Force stays intact.” Even from several rows back, Kristine could hear the ice dripping from his words.

But what was he talking about? What plans?

And was Alpha Force in jeopardy? Without adequate funding, it could disappear. What would happen to its members?

“My suggestion, sir, is to approach the investigation in a two-pronged way,” General Yarrow said. “And to make sure it’s successful. That will convince the powers that be to appropriate funding. But this isn’t the place to discuss it all.” He turned from the civilian to face Quinn, who remained standing with his hands clenched into tense fists. “Lt. Parran,” the general said, “we will have a private briefing as soon as this meeting is over. For now, you are dismissed.”

Drew Connell, who stood beside the general, gave a curt nod toward Quinn, seconding the order.

Quinn didn’t move, except that his gold-tinged brown eyes narrowed. Kristine half expected him to erupt in a heated volcano of protest and fury.

But he was now a member of Alpha Force. Of the military. He had taken an oath that involved following orders. He’d spoken of the pack mentality of Alpha Force. Surely, he would at least bow to that, to Drew Connell’s authority—wouldn’t he?

In any event, she was his acting aide.

She reached up and grabbed his forearm. As she had anticipated, tension had turned it into a steely rod. “Don’t protest,” she whispered up at him. “We’ll talk to the general and the major later and get this all sorted out.”

He glanced down at her. She almost winced under the barbed anger in his gaze. But in moments, he relaxed. Closed those eyes for an instant.

Then he called to the ranking officers, “Yes, sirs.” The tone was sardonic, and the salute he flashed after Kristine released his arm was a parody. He turned and started down the aisle toward the door.

Kristine remained worried for him. He was her charge, after all, at least for now. She had an urge to follow him.

But she needed to know what was said here. He needed to know, too, whether or not he realized it.

She remained seated while Drew and General Yarrow described the situation in Maine and the Alpha Force position.

Then Olivante joined them and commented.

Kristine was afraid she knew how the investigation was going to be handled. And it wasn’t the best way for Alpha Force.

They sat in a small room outside the general’s office waiting for Major Connell and General Yarrow to call them in.

“I take it that my attitude—even though I was right—didn’t help my brother’s position,” Quinn said to Kristine with a shrug. He had stayed outside the assembly room, pacing back and forth, until the meeting had disbanded and Kristine joined him. Despite his keen wolflike hearing, even in human form, he hadn’t been able to make out much of what was said.

Since the meeting had been short, he didn’t expect that there’d been much of substance anyway.

Only speculation.

While waiting, he had tried texting, then calling Simon and Grace again. Both calls had gone straight to voice mail, and he had received no responses to any of his attempts to reach them.

“Probably not,” Kristine answered. Sitting in a stiff military pose in the chair beside him, she raised her head, jutting her chin out in a characteristic motion he had noticed before. It showed her determination. Her stubbornness. Her beauty.

All right, maybe it wasn’t her most beautiful feature, but he liked it. Enough that he had an urge to touch that strong chin with his fingers. Better yet, cup it and pull her forward so he could test her stubbornness with a kiss …

He stopped, mentally punching himself. Where had that come from? He had just met her a few days ago, at Simon’s wedding. Yeah, she was a looker, and she’d seen him buck naked—and the thought of her eyes on him started his privates stirring even now.

But she was also all military. His assigned aide. A nonshifter. Not someone to get all hot over.

Was worry for his brother turning him into some kind of nutcase?

Maybe. He’d have to be careful. “So the powers that be, people I don’t even know who can send orders down the pipeline to me, think that my brother and his wife just went on some kind of shifting rampage and killed a couple of innocent folks right out of the blue?”

Kristine ducked her head, causing the cap of her dark hair to feather around her face. “You could say that.” She grimaced. “They did.”

Before Quinn could express what he thought of that, the door opened and Drew appeared. “Come on in,” he said.

Quinn had been in the general’s office before—when he’d been interrogated about whether he really wanted to join Alpha Force, and also what he could do for it.

It was quite an office. Not that Quinn had any idea what military offices were supposed to look like, but he figured this might be the epitome. The desk was made of a dark polished wood that looked like mahogany. There was the usual U.S. flag, but the brass pole was anything but ordinary. Then there were the worn classic books on shelves behind the general, written by some of the English-speaking world’s most renowned authors, like Robert Louis Stevenson and Bram Stoker.

There was a slight scent of brandy that Quinn could smell with his enhanced senses. He glanced toward a closed wooden cabinet behind the desk. The general might fortify himself in here for what he faced while commanding Alpha Force.

Drew had told Quinn after the last time he’d been here that the general had subsidized all the office furnishings himself just because he wanted to, and this was a getaway from the Pentagon.

Quinn waved Kristine through the door before him. He might as well act like a gentleman here, since he was committed to being a soldier.

Damn it.

Where are you, bro? his mind shouted silently. What the hell’s going on?

Quinn liked his new sister-in-law, Grace. Had been glad that his brother seemed so happy.

But he hadn’t been thrilled at being the best man at the wedding, wearing a monkey suit. Being in the middle of a bunch of fawning people, most of whom he didn’t know. Military types. Even a couple of Department of Defense guys, including the one from the DSPA.

At least he’d never have to do it again. Wolves mated for life. Even shifters.

Grace was part of their pack. He was as concerned about her as he was about his brother. Almost.

Drew, Kristine and he sat in the chairs facing the general’s desk. Greg Yarrow stood, then glared at Quinn. “I should strip you of your rank for insubordination,” he growled.

Quinn closed his eyes for just a second. He had a role to play here, and he’d better do it right if he wanted any chance at helping Simon. And Grace. “I understand, sir,” he said quietly. “I would like to apologize and—”

“Let’s not lay it on too thick.” Greg smiled grimly, causing divots to form in the cheeks of his aging face.

“Okay.” Quinn smiled briefly, too. Then waited.

“Here’s where we are,” Drew said from beside him. “Acadia is a national park, so the feds are involved in the investigation into the deaths of the tourists. So are the local police. Since the disappearance of Simon and Grace is assumed to be related, both are looking into that, too.”

“So we go as members of Alpha Force and find out what the hell happened,” Quinn predicted.

“No.” The general stood. “That’s what I hoped for, in the multipronged investigation. But I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that since members of Alpha Force might be the perpetrators of a crime here, we need to let other agencies take the lead.”

“No!” Quinn almost stood but felt Kristine’s restraining hand on his arm again. He took a deep breath, then another. “Sorry, sir,” he managed. “But my brother wouldn’t have killed anyone, whether he was shifted or not.”

He would probably have been shifted under the full moon, on the night of the killings. He might have taken the new version of the changing elixir even then, because of its benefits. As Kristine and he had discussed, some of the modifications resulted from incorporation of parts of Simon’s shifting medication, now that he had joined Alpha Force and turned over his formula.

But the combined new version might not have been tested adequately….

Yet Quinn had felt fine after taking it. Once. A reduced dose. Still, he wasn’t about to mention even a hint of concern about that.

Besides, he didn’t know for certain whether Simon had brought any of the Alpha Force elixir with him, or his own medication, or any shifting formula at all.

“We hope you’re right,” the general said. “But suspicion otherwise is partly what Team Leader Olivante’s dig was about. There’s a faction in the DoD that doesn’t know details of Alpha Force’s special abilities but even so doesn’t trust a unit that’s different. They’ll potentially shut Alpha Force down if it’s proven that any of its members have gone rogue.”

“I can help as much as anyone to find Simon and Grace. Maybe better.” Quinn struggled to keep his tone controlled. Of course he felt frustrated. Why the hell hadn’t Simon responded to any of his attempts to reach him? “And with that attitude in the organization … well, I don’t trust anyone else to find them safely. To find the truth. You know my background, sir. I’m a private investigator. You’ve got to let me …” He stopped, hazarding a glance down at Kristine who nodded encouragingly. “Okay. I enlisted. I get it. You don’t have to do anything I say. But I do have investigative skills I’ve developed over time. I’ve got to at least try to find Simon and Grace and figure out what happened. Please, sir.”

That last was a real effort, but he intended to do all he had to, to help his brother and new sister-in-law. Even act the role in which Simon had cast him.

Before either Greg or Drew responded, Kristine spoke up. “You know, sirs, I haven’t taken a leave for a long time now. I realize that Lt. Parran is too new a recruit to be entitled to one, but … well, I think he and I both need to take some time off. Maybe even take a trip. To Maine. And if we happen to end up in Bar Harbor just for the fun of it, who knows what we might uncover?”

General Yarrow’s laugh was a bark of humor. “I wasn’t exactly going to approach it that way, but I had something similar in mind.” He looked toward Drew. “What do you think, Major? Could you give these two Alpha Forcers a little time off to have some … fun on their own?”

“Sounds like a workable situation to me,” Drew said.

“Can our leave start tomorrow?” Kristine asked. “I just can’t wait to take my vacation as soon as possible.”

“Ditto that, sirs,” Quinn said. Was he laying it on too thick?

Most likely, there was no such thing.

“Then you’ve got it,” Drew said. “Although your leave will have to be short. We need answers fast, and we’ll have to disavow any knowledge of what you’re up to. And you’d better not plan on a military transport to Maine.”

“No, sir,” Kristine said. “For this leave, we’re going to go civilian all the way.”

“But you’ll still report to me,” Drew said.

“Absolutely, sir.”

And Quinn forced himself to imitate Kristine’s smart salute without a grimace.

Chapter 3

“We need to plan this.”

Kristine walked at Quinn’s side after the meeting, working hard to keep up with him. He hurried along one of the walkways at Ft. Lukman that led away from the building where the meeting had just been held. His stride was purposeful, his face grim.

Two other soldiers, also dressed in camo, approached from the opposite direction. They must have seen something in Quinn’s expression, too, since both seemed to do double takes before hurrying past.

Kristine didn’t slow down. She wondered what Quinn was thinking. Well, he needed to tell her, at least some of it.

“We have to figure out where and when we’re going,” she continued, trying not to sound out of breath. “How we’ll get there, how we’ll play it when we’re there, how—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Quinn finally grumbled. “In fact, I’m working on it.”

“How?” she demanded. “I need to know. I’m in on it, too.”

He stopped dead beside her and she had to make an effort to stop alongside him. “You don’t need to be,” he said in a tone that edged too close to threatening. “I can handle this myself.”

“Sure you can.” She leaned closer, looking up so her chin edged belligerently toward him. She kept her voice low but equally gruff. “You’ll be trying to figure out what happened. Maybe shifting. Maybe needing to shift by using the elixir you just tried for the first time. Without help? Maybe, but I don’t think so. Besides …”

She let her voice trail off, staring straight into those harsh golden eyes. Lord, but the guy was good-looking, even when he appeared grim and determined and angry.

He reacted the way she wanted him to, at least. “Besides what?” he demanded.

“Your new sister-in-law, Grace, is not just my commanding officer. She’s my friend. I intend to help her. Period.”

She continued to stand her ground and glare straight into his return glower.

He was the one to flinch. Well, not flinch, exactly. He smiled. And if she’d thought his rugged features to be a turn-on before, now he was absolutely the hottest man she had ever seen.

Her recollection of seeing him naked only reinforced the current of heat that passed through her. But she shrugged that off. She had to.

“Okay,” he said. “And you’re right. I’m sure I can use the help. But I want to think this through before we rush up there. And we are going to rush up there. No later than tomorrow.”

“I’m game,” Kristine said. “Let’s find somewhere private to discuss this.”

They crossed a wide driveway, passing the main gate into Ft. Lukman.

Quinn was leading Kristine to someplace they probably shouldn’t go: his apartment in the Bachelor Officers Quarters. If anyone saw them inside the building, it might appear as if they were fraternizing, and that was a military no-no. She wasn’t a commissioned officer. He was.

In a world where things were fair, their roles should be reversed. She had told him she was career military and had planned it that way forever. She had trained to become a nurse, then had enlisted. She had been in the service for a few years and was now a staff sergeant.

She should be his superior officer.

He was the newcomer, and yet because of who he was—no, what he became when he shifted—he’d come into the service as a ready-made officer, outranking her.

As a result of all that, she could be his aide but not—officially, at least—his date. Let alone someone he snuck into his quarters. Not that he gave a damn about that kind of prohibition, but she would.

And she was right. He needed her help—as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself.

“Glad to see things are quiet around here,” Kristine remarked as they started up the sidewalk in the direction of the BOQ. He glanced down at her. She’d slowed a bit, and he figured she, too, was thinking about the military taboo they might be about to violate.

Fraternizing. That suggested more than holding a meeting to plan their approach to Bar Harbor and learning what happened to Simon and Grace.

Not that he intended to seduce Kristine—although the idea was far from repulsive. Instead, while alone in his quarters, they would discuss what they’d do to help find Simon and Grace.

To start with, Quinn needed to do some more online research, using some of the resources already programmed into the laptop computer in his room.

“Here we are,” he told her softly, using a key to open the BOQ’s side door nearest his apartment. Good thing they could get in through a side door that was relatively remote and sheltered by its nearness to the next-door parking garage. They would definitely give the appearance of fraternizing later, if the plan that had been forming in his mind reached fruition. But it would be worse if they were caught around here, where others could see.

Soon, they were inside his unit with the door closed. As far as he knew, no one had seen them.

He had an urge to take the lovely, determined Kristine into his arms and kiss her. Only out of relief, of course.

But that was a bad idea. And she was already checking out his place. It was filled with government-issue furniture and not much else. He hadn’t been there long. He’d never been sure how long he would stay in the military, even if he hadn’t been about to undertake this unofficial mission. A lot depended on whether his appreciation for the shifting elixir outweighed his unease at being a soldier and following orders.

But one thing he did know. They would head to Bar Harbor tomorrow—and before they left, he had a lot of online investigating to do.

Kristine pulled a chair from the kitchen into the well-lighted alcove that Quinn used as an office in his small apartment.

She had been in BOQ units before—mostly Grace’s. It was larger than this. But Grace had been in Alpha Force for a while, had proven herself as excellent military, as well as a shapeshifter. She’d clearly been entitled to a comfortable place to sleep.

Sleep? Kristine had purposely not even glanced through the door that apparently led to Quinn’s bedroom. Sleep—and what else people did in bedrooms—weren’t why she was here.

Even though her body throbbed just a little at the idea of joining Quinn, with that amazing body of his, in bed.

That wouldn’t happen.

Instead, she sat determinedly beside Quinn, who had already booted up the small computer that lay on a shelf that acted like a desk in that alcove.

First, though, he pulled out his smartphone. “I’ve tried this before,” he said, “but I’ll call each of them again, just to see if they answer.”

They didn’t. Nor did they respond even now to any of the many text messages and emails he’d sent. He had even resorted to trying to contact them through Twitter and Facebook. Nothing.

Quinn and she had asked both Major Connell and General Yarrow if they’d continued to try to reach Simon and Grace. They had—also to no avail.

The last anyone had heard of them—or so it seemed—was a call Simon had made to Quinn while sightseeing along the Mount Desert Island coast just after they had reached the Acadia Park area.

Which made Kristine fear the worst. Were they dead? If not, were they ignoring calls because they were, indeed, guilty of the mutilations and murders?

She didn’t want to think about either. But they had to know.

“So what are we looking for?” she asked Quinn as he sat and began typing in a web address. His home page had wallpaper depicting a big question mark in the center of it.

Interesting. Was that because he was a private investigator by background, used to answering questions?

“Okay, first I’m putting on my P.I. hat,” Quinn said, not surprising her. “I’ve already checked to see when my bro or his bride last got into their bank accounts or used their credit cards. I found nothing useful, but I’ll do it again before we decide what’s next.”