Silence of the Wolf(2)

“Tom, if I have to—”

“I saw one of them, damn it.”

“Who was it? Did you recognize—”

“Just the flash of a gray tail. I don’t know who it was.”

“You can’t run him down. Not as a human. It could be a trap.”

Tom stopped running, swore under his breath, and again watched the woods.

“If three of them are responsible, you won’t be any match for them even if you shift.”

Tom hesitated.

“Damn it, Tom.”

“All right. Tomorrow, if we have fresh tracks, I’m hunting them down once and for all.”

***

Elizabeth Wildwood had barely arrived in Silver Town before the snowstorm hit. Surprised the owner of Hastings Bed and Breakfast was a gray werewolf, Elizabeth was thankful the sweet woman didn’t seem to mind what Elizabeth was—or wasn’t. She had four more days’ leave from her job at the Canyon Press in Texas to write an article on skiing at a Colorado resort. But that wasn’t the only reason why she was here.

She quickly retired to her room and called North Redding, a red wolf from Bruin’s former pack, which was now led by another red wolf Elizabeth didn’t know. Technically, her father had also belonged to the pack, but she had never been part of it. North had been the only one from the red pack to treat her without scorn. Elizabeth hoped to connect with him despite the storm, but she wouldn’t go to his place to meet him. His home was too close to where her uncle lived.

“North, I just got in. We can meet tomorrow. I’ll give you the time and place in the morning.”

“You said you would arrive tomorrow. You were supposed to stay with me. You agreed I’d pick you up at the airport and bring you to my house.”

“I never agreed to that, North. I said I’d decide when I arrived in Colorado.” She didn’t want to say she didn’t trust him. Truth was, she didn’t trust her uncle. If North let it slip that she was in the area, Uncle Quinton or her half brother, Sefton, might try to finish what they had started last time. Especially considering why she was here.

“You’re afraid I’ll tell your Uncle Quinton that you’re here? Is that it? If he knew what I planned to share with you, he’d kill me!” North was angry that Elizabeth didn’t believe in him, but she couldn’t. He might not be working with her uncle and half brother, but he was still in their pack. It was just safer this way.

“I flew in early ahead of the snowstorm. Why won’t you at least tell me what the evidence is?” she said to placate him.

“Can’t.”

“Fine. Talk to you tomorrow.” She had hoped never to return to that part of the country. After her parents were murdered, it hadn’t been home for her. It never would be. Killing her uncle wouldn’t make things right, but it had to be done—for her parents, for her, and for the pack she had never belonged to.

***

The next morning, with eight inches of new snowfall, Tom Silver knew he wouldn’t be able to track the wolves who were stalking farmers’ calves and sheep. Not when the culprits left no scent.

Tom’s middle triplet brother, Jake, was dealing with problems at their leather goods factory. Their eldest brother and pack leader, Darien, joined Tom at the floor-to-ceiling sunroom window as he stared out at the beauty of the snow decorating the boughs of the pine trees, making them dip to the snow-covered ground. A fire roared in the fireplace, the room as cozy as a wolf’s den with its soft, wraparound brown velour chairs set around a marble coffee table. The views of the outdoors made the room feel as though it was open to the wilderness.

Tom cast a nod in his brother’s direction. “Morning, Darien.”

Humans often mistook them for each other because they were so similar in build and appearance. Wolves smelled the difference. None of them made that mistake. Darien had the darkest hair and eyes of the three, and Tom was the fairest—“of them all,” Jake liked to joke.

“Hey, Tom. I know you wanted to go after the wolves again today. I doubt you’d find much of anything.” Darien wore Lelandi’s pink apron over a brown wool sweater and had a few splatters of oatmeal on his blue jeans. This was his usual attire, oatmeal mush and all, when he fed his triplet babies—two boys and a girl. A couple of gobs of cereal clung to strands of his dark brown hair.

He often took care of the kids in the morning so that his mate, Lelandi, the smartest, most effective psychologist in the area, could see clients. Not to mention that she was the only lupus garou psychologist around.

Tom swore he would buy his brother a manlier apron when he had the time. He glanced down at a splotch of oatmeal on his brother’s sheepskin slipper boot. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who looks that messy after feeding your brood.”