Alaskan Wolf (12 page)

“Yeah, that's me.” He grew momentarily silent again. “The military thing—well, maybe we'll talk about that later. And about the shapeshifting…it's not easy to discuss it with anyone who hasn't grown up with my background, but understand, Mariah, that people like me—well, we're a lot better off if no one knows about us. And you—”

“I write articles for a national publication about wolves and other wildlife. I get it. There's a natural conflict between us, isn't there?”

“You could say that.”

“I just did.” She grinned back when he shot her a dubious smile. “Okay, we'll establish some ground rules. I want to understand what I saw, make sure I'm not nuts.” But she
was
nuts, wasn't she? “You won't admit to…anything…I gather, unless I promise to keep it quiet and not write about it. Is that where we are?”

“Absolutely.”

A small animal—probably a rat—made some noise in the dead leaves at the side of the path, and Duke lunged in that direction. They stopped talking while Patrick got the dog back under control.

And then Mariah said, “Okay, Patrick. You've got my promise. I want to understand, so I'll keep what you tell me to myself, unless you give me permission to write about it. Okay?” And besides, who'd ever believe her if she tried to tell the world about something so extraordinary that she didn't completely believe it herself, even after seeing it?

“That works.” He turned and looked at her. His light brown eyes were intense, questioning, as if he tried to find in her expression whether she could be trusted.

“Great.” She really wanted him to trust her. Somehow, she wanted for them to get back to where they'd been yesterday, when they'd made love.

But in between, she'd seen him in an entirely different, amazing situation. They could never simply resume being two ordinary people in lust with one another.

“All right.” He proceeded to tell her what she expected to hear. Only, she wouldn't have believed a word if she hadn't seen him change from a gorgeous specimen of sexy male human into a delightful specimen of
Canis lupus
—gray wolf.

He had inherited his shapeshifting gene from his mother, he said. His dad, a veterinarian, had been a regular human being. They had lived in Mary Glen as a cover, thanks to the werewolf legends that locals
either believed or didn't, but there weren't actually a lot of shapeshifters who lived there.

“Although—” Patrick said, then stopped and looked down at her again.

“Although what?” she prompted.

“Later,” he replied and kept walking.

At her prompting, he talked about how it felt to shift, how he had no choice under a full moon, what it was like to have the glorious, enhanced senses of a canine.

“Then—did the stuff I accidentally saw in your backpack have something to do with your shapeshifting abilities?” She asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world to discuss. As if she had accepted his werewolf nature as real.

Well, it
was
real.

But he ignored her question and continued ahead as Duke pulled on his leash. And that irritated Mariah, even as it stoked her curiosity.

She sped up, putting her gloved hand on his arm. “Patrick?”

He still didn't answer directly. Instead, he said, “Have you ever been checked out for a national security clearance?”

What a non sequitur! Or was it?

“No,” she said. “Should I have been?”

“Not necessarily. But for this conversation to reach
its natural conclusion, it would help if you had been, or at least were willing to get one.”

Was she? Well, why not? But the real question was…why?

“It's probably fine,” she said, “as long as there's a good reason.”

“Let's go back to the ranch and I'll make some calls,” Patrick said. “Maybe get Wes involved to help out. As long as…have you ever done anything that's made you unlikely to qualify for top secret clearance?”

“Nope,” she said. “Unless my profession is a problem. But, Patrick, I really—”

“I'll explain once we have you at least initially checked out. But for now—I'd like to know why you were out on Kaley Glacier last evening.”

Okay, he was changing the subject. She could only guess why he was so interested in her having a security clearance. Did he somehow work for the government? That was the only thing that would make sense.

But he had been dishonorably discharged from the military…or had he?

Well, no harm in answering his question. “I was out there to satisfy my curiosity. At lunch yesterday with Flynn Shulster, I overheard Carrie Thaxton
talking on her cell phone to someone about expecting some big breakage at Kaley Glacier last night.”

Patrick grabbed Mariah's arm. His gaze burned into hers. “Who was she talking to? Do you know?”

“I guessed it was her father. Her husband, Jeremy, was in the restaurant, too, sitting at a table.”

“Was there anything else? Anything about what would cause the calving?”

Mariah shook her head. “No, that was all. What's this about, Patrick?”

“I can't discuss it with you now,” he said. “But we'll check on that security clearance fast. I think you could be of real help to me, Mariah. Are you willing?”

“I need to know more,” she deflected him. And yet the excitement dancing in his eyes made her smile. “But…depending on what it is, I'd love to help you.”

“You're—” He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he bent and gave her one heck of a kiss. Once more his touch heated her, everywhere, despite the chilly air around them. Unlike being caught on disintegrating glaciers, this was becoming a habit she ached to repeat. Over and over.

Duke barked behind them, whether in jealousy or agreement Mariah didn't know. Was the dog aware that his master had a lot in common with him?

Almost involuntarily, she kissed Patrick back. As if in acceptance of who, and what he was.

As if to seal a pact she didn't yet understand.

But she would understand it, somehow.

Soon.

H
aving Mariah in his arms, kissing her after what she had learned about him…it amazed Patrick, even as his body responded.

He wanted her. But this was not the time or place. And at the moment, he also needed to determine whether recruiting her was in his best interests. And that of Alpha Force.

He pulled back reluctantly. “I want you to come to my apartment,” he said. And laughed at the sexy look she shot him in return. “Well, maybe that, too. But I need to go there alone first, get some information together. Talk to…someone about getting you more involved.”

“Involved with what? Your…shapeshifting?”

“Yes. But there's a lot more behind what I'm doing than just changing once a month, under a full moon—which was the norm for centuries for my kind.”

The look she shot him seemed full of curiosity. “Then that liquid I found in your backpack really is part of it?”

She was being persistent. And he did owe her an answer. Depending on whether he could legitimately tell her any more. And that he didn't know yet.

He pulled gently on Duke's leash and started back in the direction they'd come from. He held Mariah's gloved hand in his.

“Tell me exactly what Carrie Thaxton said on the phone,” he prompted, not entirely to change the subject. But he'd had his own suspicions about Emil Charteris and his grant to study the glacier destruction—especially once he had heard from Flynn Shulster about the rental of that small submersible.

Mariah repeated what she had told him before about the side of Carrie's telephone call that she had overheard. Nothing new. He'd have to do more digging. Or she would…
if
.

When they reached the ranch, most of the sled dogs were out in the yard, playing noisily in the snow. Wes watched them.

“Hey, Wes.” Patrick gestured to him, and the chunky former Special Ops guy headed their way. As
he reached them, Patrick said, “I've got an assignment for you.”

At Wes's questioning glance toward Mariah, Patrick said, “No, I haven't told Mariah anything yet but she suspects I'm not here only as a musher.” He smiled at her wary expression. “And, no, Wes doesn't have all the answers, either. He only knows part of the equation.”

“You do like to keep secrets, don't you?” Mariah didn't sound especially pleased.

“Doesn't everyone? Anyway, Wes, here's what I want you to do. I'd like to have Mariah join you as my backup. For now, the two of you aren't to discuss, even with each other, what you know or suspect about my employer or assignment. Leave it to me to fill you in individually on a need-to-know basis—although, Wes, you already know part of it.” And keeping an eye on Wes's fulfillment of this minimal mission might help Patrick get a better sense of his trustworthiness—and how viable a suspect he really was in Shaun's murder. “I'll give you some contact info,” he told Wes, “and I want you to work with Mariah to get her a preliminary security clearance. Help her fill out the form, that's the first step—and I'll want to be there for at least part of your discussion. Then you can submit it and follow up for us.” And in the meantime Patrick should get a pretty good sense of whether she'd pass the subsequent vetting.

“Just tell me one thing before we go through all this, Patrick,” Mariah said.

“What's that?” He wasn't certain he wanted to hear.

“You weren't really dishonorably discharged from the army, were you?”

“No,” he admitted, and was glad she didn't ask any more.

Wes agreed to do as Patrick asked, so Patrick pulled a notebook from his backpack and wrote down the contact data for the head security officer stationed at Ft. Lukman, who would supply the official clearance form.

Patrick relaxed a little as he watched Wes and Mariah enter the main house, glad to have at least a few minutes out of their presence. He followed Duke up the steps of the back building toward his apartment. He intended to strategize further over the phone with Drew and his wife—about what he could, and could not, reveal to Mariah. He wouldn't mention that he had already admitted that his ostensible military history was a lie, part of his cover.

He would also talk to the Alpha Force commanding officer, General Greg Yarrow, bringing him up to speed on what was going on around here, including Mariah's knowledge of his shapeshifting ability. He hoped that would spur the general to do everything
possible to push through Mariah's initial security clearance—fast.

And during her initial vetting, as long as there weren't any obvious skeletons in her magazine writer's closet, he would reveal the minimum necessary to get her started in helping him fulfill his mission.

If being with her led to more of that great sex, even better. But that was all. He had no room for any kind of real relationship in his life, now or ever. Despite what Drew Connell shared with his non-shapeshifting wife, Melanie, there were limits on how close Patrick would get to Mariah. His parents had shared a lot, too—really loved each other—and had suffered for it.

Inside his place, Patrick laid his backpack on the kitchenette's floor and put some water into a mug that he thrust into the microwave. Taking out a jar of instant coffee, he waited till the water boiled and made himself a good, strong cup.

And then he pulled out his cell phone and began making calls.

 

Mariah sat in the Daweses' living room with a cup of coffee brewed by Wes. She figured she'd want the caffeine to assist her through the interrogation to come.

She needed security clearance to get more information from Patrick? And he was still in the
military—or at least somehow, most likely, affiliated with the government?

She was definitely intrigued. And miffed that he hadn't told her more yet.

Patrick soon walked into the room with Duke at his heels, followed by Wes. Both men held coffee mugs, too, and Wes also carried a few sheets of paper.

Mariah was glad that the generic beige sofa where she sat was comfortable. She would need all the comfort she could get to handle these men's questions.

Wes sat down on the opposite end of the couch, and Patrick took a seat on a mismatched plaid armchair across the coffee table from them. Duke circled, then lay down at his feet.

There was a large fireplace against the outside wall that needed a good scrubbing to remove soot, and the hardwood floor was scuffed and unpolished. The place definitely looked lived-in, and Mariah found it charming.

But her temporary relaxation while surveying her surroundings ended abruptly when Wes started the inquisition. “Some of this you can just fill out yourself, but in the interest of time I've got to let my contact know anything that's potentially controversial, so we can get your background check started.” He began asking things like all her former addresses,
everywhere she had gone to school and whether she had ever used a different name.

She recalled nearly all the information he sought, although she stumbled over a zip code or two. She'd been engaged once, but not married, so her name had never changed, but no need to mention the engagement—or what a louse her fiancé had turned out to be once he realized her family's wealth had disappeared.

And then he got into her employment history. “I'd worked in a national park during holidays while I was in college,” she said. “I loved it, and really utilized my background of studying for my degree in Natural Resources and Environmental Science.” But her parents' finances had started to turn sour while she was still in school, and when she got out she decided to find something that paid better than she could earn as a park ranger.

She wound up working at a Chicago newspaper, and eventually became an investigative reporter. Until the scandal that rocked her family surfaced—her dad, a partner at a large investment firm, had been skimming funds from his clients to make up for his own losses.

And then she wasn't simply a reporter any longer. She was part of the story.

She had been delighted to find the job at
Alaskan Nature Magazine,
where she could live far from the
disgrace. Her salary was halved, and she'd had to promise her boss to stay versatile and write for some of the other publications he owned when he asked her to. But for the past three years she had primarily stuck to researching and writing wonderful stories about Alaskan wildlife. And loved it.

“But you were, and are still, an investigative reporter?” Patrick demanded.

“I was. And I could be again, yes. My boss requires me to do some writing for his other publications, and they include a weekly newspaper and a tabloid. But I definitely won't write about anything I understand to be confidential.” She stared straight into his expressionless but gorgeously male face. Did he recognize she was telling him wordlessly that she wasn't about to write a story on his shapeshifting—a talent she believed Wes might not know about?

She gave Wes the particulars about her former and current employers and their addresses, which he appeared to write on the forms in his lap. He asked about any problems she might have had with police beyond standard traffic tickets.

She mentioned being questioned by the feds who were after her dad. “But no one ever accused me of anything.”

After a few more questions, Patrick rose. “Sounds as if things here are progressing well. I'll check
back with you in a little while.” And then he left the room.

Leaving Mariah wondering exactly where he was going. Had she said something that bothered him?

Well, of course she had. She'd been an investigative reporter, and she'd been included in a federal investigation. Did that mean he would, ultimately, tell Wes not to bother submitting her info to start her official security clearance?

And would he use that as an excuse to demand that she not reveal to the world those secrets of his that she already knew about—while refusing to tell her anything else?

 

He'd heard enough.

Of course Patrick had some doubts. But Mariah wasn't an investigative reporter—although she'd been a little cagey about that. She did write for publications besides the nature magazine. And her family had been in trouble.

But she'd moved away from them. And Patrick had little choice about trusting her. She already knew too much about him.

He let Duke sniff around the driveway for a minute till the dog did what was necessary outside, then led him toward the back building.

Patrick waited until he had once more reached the seclusion of his small apartment before calling
Drew again. “Wes Dawes is still with Mariah. He'll finish getting her information, insert it into the form and email it to start her clearance. But there'll be information on it that could cause the general some consternation.”

When Patrick had revealed it, Drew said, “Causes me some consternation, too. But do you trust her?”

“With my life,” he said—and realized he meant it. “Well, call the general, tell him what you told me. If he's okay with your jumping the gun and getting her started helping you, that's fine with me.”

 

By the time Wes finished taking down information, Mariah felt exhausted.

And worried. Where had Patrick gone? He hadn't returned. Was he disgusted with what he'd heard?

Well, too bad. She wasn't ashamed of who she was or anything she had done.

She had already promised him that she wouldn't reveal his shapeshifting abilities to anyone. Even if he told her that he wasn't going to work with her, she wouldn't break that promise.

But she would be left with a tremendous void inside her. She wanted to know more about him and all he could do with his shifting.

And despite that so very unexpected side of him, she had come to care for him.

Not to mention crave the sex that she had only been introduced to…

“Okay, I'll go type this up,” Wes said. “You'll be able to review and sign it before I send it off, but this way I'll be able to answer any initial questions that arise in the clearance process. Hopefully it'll save us some time.”

“Thanks, Wes.” She stood. She had wanted to at least be able to say goodbye to Patrick—hopefully not for the last time—before she returned to town. “Please let Patrick know I'll look forward to hearing how this turns out.”

“Patrick can tell you right now that it's turning out well,” said Patrick from the door to the hall. He entered the living room with Duke again at his feet. “We still need to complete the official process, of course, but I've got the go-ahead to get you started.”

 

Mariah was enthralled. And even a little frightened.

Patrick had driven them to an edge of the glacier field that she had not yet visited.

She had a special reason for being there this night. She was to be Patrick's backup.

He had trusted her enough to tell her that he was part of a covert military unit: Alpha Force. Although
he didn't say much about it, she gathered he wasn't the only member who was a shapeshifter. Amazing!

She recalled that Emil Charteris had suggested that what was happening at the glaciers was being caused intentionally by the U.S. government. If so, why send Patrick to learn what was happening?

Unless his mission was to ensure that no one figured out the truth.

But he had trusted her, and for now, at least, she would trust him.

And get as involved as he allowed her to with his astonishing ability to change into a wolf.

The
wolf. The one she had seen here before, which had so enthralled her.

Had she recognized Patrick on some level?

He had explained the shifting process as he'd driven. Sounded simple enough. Sort of.

And now they were parked way off the road, yet not far onto the ice.

“During daylight,” he said, “while I'm not out mushing, I talk to people around here as much as possible—civilians, cops, tourists—to learn who's seen the calving and when and where. I just act like an interested new resident, make notes later, try to figure out some kind of pattern, though I haven't been successful yet—or learning about who killed Shaun. At night, I go out on the glaciers whenever
possible, shifted, so my senses are enhanced, trying to absorb whatever information I can. That's what I'm after tonight. You ready?” The smile he shot her, in the vehicle's faint inside light that he had turned on, made her insides somersault. Damn, but he was one sexy guy—even with the night's incredible activities pending.