He looked at the two strips of heavy white paper tucked above the seats. LAK on both, meaning there was someone else sitting with the girl who was also going to Lakeside. The conductor had tucked the same kind of strip above his seat after checking his ticket.
Okay, she hadn’t missed her stop, which brought him back to the question of the adult. If the person left the girl alone in order to use the toilet, how long did it take to pee or poop? Or, on the other end, even if the adult was buying food and there was a line in the dining car, the other human should have returned by now.
The door at the far end opened, and the same man entered the car for the third time. As soon as the man passed the seats containing human passengers, his eyes focused on the girl in the same way Wolves would focus on an unprotected calf when they were hunting.
Nathan stepped into the aisle and snarled loudly. His fangs lengthened to Wolf size, and his amber eyes flickered with red, the sign of anger. Fur sprang up on his chest and shoulders. Fur covered his hands. His fingers shortened, and his fingernails changed to the sharp Wolf nails that would be more useful in a fight.
A woman sitting near the front of the car looked back at Nathan, sprang out of her seat, and ran from the car. A moment later, a conductor and security guard rushed in.
“What’s going on?” the conductor asked.
The security guard’s hand hovered over the gun still in its holster.
“Keep this male away from the child,” Nathan snarled.
“There’s just been a misunderstanding,” the man said.
“He stinks of lust.” That had been the scent the man had been trying to hide beneath the stinky cologne. “If you won’t keep him away from her, I will.”
No doubt in anyone’s mind how he would keep the man away.
The conductor stepped forward. “Honey, do you know this man?”
The girl shook her head and held the fake bear in front of her like a shield.
“Sir, come with us,” the security guard said tightly. Ignoring the man’s protests, the guard led him away.
Nathan didn’t know, or care, where they took the man, but the conductor and security guard knew enough about the terra indigene not to try to walk the man past him.
He stood for a minute, struggling to shift back to looking human enough so the rest of the passengers in the car wouldn’t panic. Then, instead of resuming his own seat, he sat down next to the child.
“I’m Nathan Wolfgard.” He waited a beat while she stared at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
That sounded like as good a rule as “Don’t tease a skunk,” but it wasn’t helpful now. “I’m not a stranger; I’m like the Wolf police.” He was pleased he’d thought of that as a way to explain being an enforcer for a Courtyard.
Of course, human police didn’t tend to eat wrongdoers.
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “I’m Lizzy. And this is Boo Bear. He’s my bestest friend.” She thrust the fake bear close to Nathan’s face.
He jerked his head back and took shallow breaths through his mouth.
Boo Bear needed a bath.
But . . .
Nathan leaned forward and sniffed the bear. Smears of old food around the nose. Peanut butter? Something human smelling that had dried crusty around the ears, as if she’d used the bear to wipe her nose. And then, on the bear’s haunch . . .