Undercover Wolf

He paced farther into the forest. Not even a hint of the aromas of Simon or Grace, shifted or not.

His frustrations mounted.

No answers tonight.

Chapter 5

Kristine sat alone in the locked, dark car. Waiting.

She hated waiting for anything.

But she had taught herself patience while staying behind as her shapeshifting charge Grace dashed about the countryside in wolf form after Kristine helped her shift.

She had worked a lot with Grace. Learned her habits. Helped her not only as a shifting soldier, but also in the solution of a problem that could have put the entire world at risk of unleashed biohazards.

Kristine had gotten shot in the process. But she was fine now, physically.

Mentally, too, she reminded herself—although she was damned worried about her charge, her friend, Grace.

One step at a time. Quinn and she would find Grace and Simon. They had to.

For now, she watched through the windshield and the car’s side windows, scouring the mountainside in the scant light of the bright stars overhead for any movement that would indicate the return of the wolf that was Quinn.

Since this wasn’t a night of a full moon, and turning on any kind of light was a bad idea in this area, where she wanted no one to spot her, she merely slumped behind the steering wheel of the rental car.

Too bad she didn’t have the senses that her charges did while shifted, or even some of their enhanced senses in human form. Grace had described them to her, at least somewhat.

If Kristine had better hearing, maybe she could at least hear when—

There. Right in front of her. A movement within her line of vision.

Something had leaped off the hillside. In the little that she could see in the almost complete darkness, the shrubbery clinging to the side of the mountain remained in motion.

A figure moved in front of her on the roadside turnout. A wolf?

Just in case it wasn’t what she anticipated, she clutched the service weapon she had brought along, preparing to use it if necessary.

As quietly as she could, she opened the car door.

That created a haze of light—light in which she could see that something writhed in the bushes in front of her.

A shifter regaining its human shape?

The hell with being seen. Holding the gun in one hand, she grabbed a flashlight, too, turned it on and aimed them both at the moving figure.

In time to see the last of Quinn’s transformation back into human form.

He was back in the car, back in his jeans and T-shirt. Exhausted partly from the shift and partly from his ongoing frustration.

“Did you see anything useful?” Kristine asked, as she drove the car from the turnoff onto the twisting mountain road.

“No. I didn’t see, smell or hear anything at all that could help us. But at least I’ve oriented myself a bit more to this area and shifting around here.”

Beside him, Kristine said nothing for a minute. And then, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Fine.” And he actually was. As he breathed deeply, he felt his strength—and his determination—increasing. He was here. Simon and Grace had to be somewhere around this area, too.

Of course he would find them.

They would find them. Kristine, with all her military training and dedication, would continue to be an asset.

As she had already been, tonight.

“Thanks for watching my back,” he said gruffly, only to see her turn her head to glance at him.

“It’s what I’m here for,” she retorted in an equally gruff tone that made him smile.

The time Kristine had been dreading had arrived.

Okay, it wasn’t that big a deal. They were here undercover. They were both adults, rational people, soldiers.

At least she was a soldier, and he had enlisted as one. But that shouldn’t matter here anyway.

The point was that they were here under assumed identities. False ones.

And now, after dinner, a preliminary assessment of the town, plus the first of Quinn’s shifts in this area—and she anticipated many more—they had to get some sleep to be rested enough to dive right into their roles tomorrow.

Find answers.

Learn where Grace and Simon were, and rescue them, if necessary.

Assuming they were still alive.

That was what was important.

Who was sleeping where, in this small, quaint room with only one bed, was not a big deal. No bigger a deal than her acting as Quinn’s aide for shifting.

He had just crossed the room and closed the drapes. The room didn’t get any darker, since the lights were on.

“Would you like to use the bathroom first?” Kristine asked neutrally.

“After you, sweetheart.” His tone was ironic. Not serious at all.

A good thing.

“Fine,” she said briskly. “Then, when you’re changing, I can take the duvet and make myself a bed on the floor. I think you’ll be okay with the sheets already on the bed, and—”

“And you don’t think the maid would notice tomorrow?” His brows were raised, emphasizing that irony he had already projected.