Wild Country

From the back of the house, Virgil heard the wolverine make a sound that was close to a yelp. Words, yes, but . . . yelp.

They listened, but there were no other sounds of possible distress. What they did hear was water. Someone in the shower.

Kane said.

Kane trotted up the street, a dark, silent shape. Virgil stayed and listened to the water.

The bad dogs had retreated from the Wolfgard territory, but now they were returning. There had been more than two dozen dogs in the pack, but Virgil doubted there were that many left. The dogs might have stayed around houses outside the new town boundaries forever, hunting prey or scavenging what food they could find in the houses that had the little animal doors without fighting the Wolfgard. But they had drawn the attention of the Elders, and now the dogs were being hunted instead of being the hunters. Now they were being driven back into Wolfgard territory, squeezed between two kinds of terra indigene. They would try to take the Wolfgard territory. It was the only place they could go, but it would make no difference. One way or another, the bad dogs had to die so that the Elders would tolerate the dogs that were useful . . . or not a threat to anyone. Like Rusty.

The bad dogs had to die before they killed more than cats. There were young among the humans living in Bennett—and if the adults weren’t vigilant, the young were always the easiest prey.

The water stopped. How long did it take a human female to groom herself after washing? More to the point, how long did it take the wolverine?

Figuring the answer was not long, Virgil ran back to the Wolfgard house. When he reached the front door, he almost shifted to human form to let himself in, but there were lights going on in some of the houses. Not in the houses closest to the one the Wolfgard now claimed, but some humans were awake and might open a door or look out a window and see his human form. Which shouldn’t matter since he was a Wolf regardless of form, but Barbara Ellen getting squeaky reminded him that looking human meant wearing human clothes because naked meant something to humans, who got strange about something that meant nothing except that humans couldn’t adequately communicate with terra indigene who weren’t in human form, so sometimes shifting to that form was required even if clothes weren’t available.

The wolverine hadn’t squeaked about him shifting in order to talk to her. He approved. She had enough inadequacies, being human and all, but she was showing that she had potential to be a good working member of the enforcer pack. And she had enough bristly, puffed-up attitude most of the time that he wasn’t giving up on the idea that one of her ancestors had been a Wolverine, despite the possibility being impossible.

Or . . . She said she’d been raised by foster parents. Maybe they had been Wolverines and she’d learned the attitude from them.

Entertained by that thought, Virgil trotted around the house before shifting to human form and opening the back door. John and Kane were in the kitchen, pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards to make before-work food.

“Kane, I’m going to pack one of those carryalls with clothes for both of us,” Virgil said. “John, when I’ve packed what we need, you run down to the wolverine’s house and put the carryall and our shoes in her vehicle. She will be going to work early.”

“I’ll ride with her,” John said. “I want to start work early today too. Joshua Painter is going to work in the bookstore with me. He likes books and needs to learn a trade if he’s going to live around humans.”

“Barbara Ellen likes books,” Kane said casually as he cut up a rare-cooked beef roast into slabs of meat for the three of them. “She spends more time helping to sort books than she needs to.”

“Is Barbara Ellen receptive to mating?” John asked as he opened two cans of peach slices. The Wolfgard ate meat, but in human form, other foods were . . . tasty . . . and eating sweet fruit with the meat was surprisingly pleasant.

“Don’t know,” Kane replied. “But Joshua isn’t. At least, not yet.”

Not interested in discussing human mating rituals, Virgil walked out of the kitchen, pulled a small carryall out from under his bed, and filled it with two sets of clothes for him and two for Kane. He found another carryall that was big enough to hold the boots Kane wore when he was in human form and the shoes Virgil preferred. The boots were more like what the human males wore on ranches, but Virgil, being in human form most of the time when he was on duty, had decided he wanted a shoe that was comfortable to walk in and easy to remove if he had to shift to Wolf form quickly.

He didn’t want to think about Barbara Ellen being receptive to mating—or the sex thing, which, from what he could figure out, wasn’t the same as mating. He was sure the wolverine would tell him it wasn’t any of his business, that humans were free to do the sex thing with anyone they pleased. But it was his business because Barbara Ellen had ties to Lakeside, and he and Tolya wanted to remain friends with the terra indigene who lived in Lakeside.

Virgil closed the carryall but didn’t pick it up because another thought occurred to him.

What about the wolverine? How close were her ties to the Lakeside Courtyard and the police pack that was connected to the Courtyard? And how receptive was she to a human male’s mating overtures?

Tobias drove through the early morning light, wondering if he was acting like a fool. He was the foreman of Prairie Gold’s ranch, and he had work to do and responsibilities to meet. But, damn it, there was that spark he felt whenever he was around Jana, and he thought she felt some interest in him too—and not just as someone who could teach her to rope and ride. But even if she wasn’t interested in getting better acquainted on a personal level, even if the spark he felt fizzled, he wanted her to ride well and develop a partnership with Mel. Sure, she was supposed to be patrolling streets that were part of the town or had been part of the town, but anything could happen once you were in the wild country. And people being people, anything could happen within the town.

He wasn’t a stranger to women. He liked their company and had accepted invitations over the years to participate in mutual pleasure. But some had never gotten past a kiss because, even though his mother was the one who could sense other people, he’d had the feeling some of those women had wanted him because they wanted to be a foreman’s wife in order to rule the house and the ranch’s bank account.

And there hadn’t been this kind of spark, even with the women whose company he’d enjoyed in all manner of ways. An attraction, sure, but not the kind of spark that was pulling him back to Bennett when he should be putting in time on the ranch.

“She’s not an Intuit.”

“I know that, Mom. I know she’s not one of us, I know she’s got a job in Bennett, and I work at the ranch, and there’s a fair piece of driving between those two places.”

“Nothing wrong with a phone call between visits. Or a letter.”

“A letter? I’d probably be the one driving our post up to the Bennett office.”

“A letter is something that can be enjoyed between friends, but it’s also an old-fashioned kind of courtship. A woman can revisit a letter when the man isn’t around. Gives her a reason to think about him. Speaking of letters, since you’re making the trip anyway, take the sack of mail Phil has ready and bring back the mail for the town as well as the ranch. And check with John Wolfgard to see if he has any of the books I asked about.”

He’d called Truman Skye after leaving his mother’s house that morning and offered to pick up any mail for the Skye Ranch since it would be on his way back home. Truman sounded grateful to eliminate one chore from his list and asked if Tobias could bring back a few things from the general store, if the items were available.

He couldn’t complain if his social call had turned into a delivery run. It justified the use of the gasoline.

“Joshua is going to work for you at the bookstore?” Barb twisted around to look at John, who was in the cargo area with Rusty, the carryalls, and the carry sack of food he’d had with him when he’d informed Jana that she was giving him a ride to the town square.

“He likes books,” John replied. “That’s why he spends extra time sorting the books that come in from the houses.”

“Is that our story?” Jana asked dryly, looking into the rearview mirror.

John hesitated, then gave her a delighted smile. “Yes. That is our story.”

“Okeydokey.” Jana didn’t glance at her housemate. Did. Not. After that crack about whether Virgil had adjustable parts, Barb deserved a little teasing.

“Well, he does like books,” Barb said defensively.

Jana smiled. “Then it’s a good fit. Joshua does work he likes and gets to interact with people who are, for the most part, coming in for something that will please them.”

Barb looked out the window and said, “We’re just friends. I have lots of friends. Besides, Joshua is too young for me.”

Definitely too young and too . . . undomesticated . . . to cope with some human behaviors. But being a true wild boy, Joshua is the only friend you’re hoping no one mentions to your brother.

Jana looked in the rearview mirror again. John met her eyes and nodded. If Michael Debany found out about Barb’s friendship with Joshua Painter, the news wouldn’t come from either of them.

Tolya turned on his computer. He’d never had a reason to be grateful for the Earthday rule of most businesses being closed—including government offices—but as Bennett was swiftly being transformed back into an inhabited town, he appreciated having one day when he could ignore the human residents and their helpful ideas and the requests to reopen more of the businesses. Reopening businesses was a good thing, certainly, but all those humans made his job more demanding. At least handling the paperwork and keeping track of who was living where and running which business was no longer his problem now that he had hired the two humans to be land agents.

His mobile phone rang. He glanced at the clock as the phone rang again. Too early to be a personal call. Too early to be anything but trouble.

“Tolya Sanguinati.”

“It’s Stewart Dixon. Do you remember me?”

“Of course.” A rancher who lived north of the Elder Hills, Stewart Dixon had been helpful when the Prairie Gold Wolves had shipped eleven bison to Lakeside. “What? Please repeat your words.” The signal faded and came back.

“A stranger came to the house. Tried to force himself on my daughter. Ranch hand came in and interrupted. My man’s been stabbed. I’ve got him in the truck and I’m heading to Bennett. Please gods, tell me you have a doctor there.”

“We do. Come to the government building when you reach the town. I will escort you to the doctor from there.”

“Got my wife and daughter with me,” Dixon said. “My sons and some of the hands are watching the house and the horses.”

Tolya disconnected the call, then used the desk phone to call one of the doctors who had been hired through the Lakeside job fair. The doctor’s wife was a nurse and midwife and worked with her husband, so he didn’t have to call anyone else. But after a moment’s thought, he called the other doctor as well as the vet, who also had been hired through the job fair. Tolya wasn’t sure the second doctor would be required or that the vet would be useful to a human who had been stabbed, but he wanted all of the town’s bodywalkers awake and ready.

Next he considered the females coming in with Dixon. He wasn’t sure if the daughter was injured, but he was certain that, with Dixon needing to be present to help the injured man, the females would be on their own and vulnerable.

He called the Bird Cage Saloon. “Scythe?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded rough, as if she wasn’t fully in her human form yet.

“It’s Tolya. I need you to provide hospitality to some human females who will be arriving soon.”

“Why bring them to the saloon instead of the hotel?” Curiosity, not challenge.

“Because you’re at the saloon.” And no one would harm those women with a Harvester standing guard.

“I’ll be ready,” Scythe said.

With nothing else to do until Dixon arrived, Tolya checked his e-mail—and felt his body tighten as he opened the message from Jackson Wolfgard and downloaded the picture that was attached.

He printed out two copies of the picture—one to keep and one for the sheriff’s office. Then he forwarded the picture, along with Jackson’s message, to Jesse Walker.

If Stewart Dixon hadn’t called, the picture would be no more than a curiosity this morning—a young woman with pale red hair looking in a mirror, but instead of her own reflection, the mirror showed a young, dark-haired man. The woman was starting to turn away, as if wanting nothing to do with the man.

Tolya recognized the woman—and he suspected Abigail Burch would be able to tell him the name of the man.

Scythe’s hand rested on the phone. She was a hunter, a predator, a Harvester. Such an odd feeling to be asked to protect anything, let alone humans.

What was needed? What should she offer? And who should she have with her who would better understand what these females required?

She called Garnet Ravengard, who would keep watch from one of the trees in the town square and give warning if an enemy approached. Then she called Candice Caravelli and Lila Gold, waking both. When she told them to come to the saloon and why, Lila had questions about the females who needed protection. Candice did not, which made Scythe think that Candice knew more about needing help than Lila did. Her last call was to Yuri Sanguinati. The Intuit males who worked in the saloon were good workers, but she thought another predator would be more useful right now.

She combed out her hair, still wet from the shower, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt—a simple outfit that matched the kind of clothes Candice and Lila wore before they reported to work. Casual attire. Something a business owner might wear before the business opened for the day and she dressed in the costume that was part of the ambiance of the Bird Cage Saloon.

She gave Yellow Bird fresh food and water and changed the papers in the cage as Barbara Ellen had shown her how to do.

“I will return later and listen to your singing.” She didn’t know if it made a difference to the bird, but it seemed sad for the bird to sing and not have anyone listen.

As a last check, she stood in front of the full-length mirror. The clothes were appropriate and would not alert the threat, whatever it may be, that she was more than the other females in the saloon. And the hair—mostly gold with streaks of blue and red—now had the waves that Lila Gold always complimented without understanding their significance.

A door opened downstairs—and Scythe’s hair began to coil. A sharp whistle made her hesitate at the door of her suite.

Yuri called.

Yuri laughed.

Yes, Scythe thought. If the enemy came to her door, he would expect no trouble—right up to the moment when her hair turned black and simply looking at her would have his organs turning to sludge.

Jana opened the door of the sheriff’s office and dropped her daypack on her desk.

“I’ll put the food in the fridge for Virgil and Kane. Where do you want these?” John asked, lifting the carryalls as he walked past her.

“Put the clothes in Virgil’s office.” She almost told him to put the clothes in the Me Time cell, but that would be like pulling Virgil’s tail—not something she wanted to do when they were almost getting along.

As soon as John left, Jana dropped Rusty’s leash and turned on the computer. “I’ll take a quick look at e-mail and make sure nothing urgent came in last night; then we’ll drop off this letter at the post office and take a quick walk around the square. Okay?”

E-mail from Tolya, asking Virgil to meet with him as soon as the Wolf was on duty. Another e-mail from Tolya, specifically to her, telling her to report to him immediately to deal with a situation that had occurred on a ranch north of Bennett.

Did they have jurisdiction there? She hadn’t been in town a full week yet and had been so focused on getting settled and learning the town’s boundaries and its citizens that she hadn’t thought about who else the Bennett Sheriff’s Department was expected to protect. She’d study a map of the Midwest and find out where the towns had been before the war—and make a note of which ones still existed. That would give her some idea of where the next human law enforcement might be.

Jana closed the e-mail program and headed for the door, snagging the letter to Tobias from the front pocket of her daypack as she passed her desk. “Okay. Let’s go to the post office and then see Mr. Sanguin . . .”

Rusty huddled in her crate. Now that Jana thought about it, the pup had seemed overly eager to get inside the office this morning.

Crouching, Jana held out her hand. “Rusty? Come on, girl. It’s okay. Come on out. Quick walk.”

Rusty came to her but balked at the office door. Should she let the dog stay or insist on being obeyed?

“Come on, girl.” She really needed a dog-training book. Or a book on human-dog relationships. Virgil could interpret dog, but she didn’t want to ask him about Rusty’s behavior since it would prove she knew less than he did and that would give him more reason to ignore what she thought about Rusty’s education.

The dog came with her but didn’t do her usual pulling on the leash to explore as much as possible. Instead, the only pulling was attempted dashes back to the sheriff’s office. And when the pup wasn’t trying to go back to the office, she was pressed so close to Jana’s leg that Jana had to watch each step to avoid stepping on Rusty’s feet.

As they came out on the other side of the square, Jana spotted Isobel Sanguinati outside the post office.

“Morning!” Jana called.

Isobel turned—and Jana jerked back a step. The Sanguinati who were in charge of Bennett had originally lived in Toland, an East Coast city that had been one of the largest human-controlled cities on the whole continent. They always sounded so educated and looked so sleek in their black clothes, it was easy to forget they weren’t some high-society family who had made their fortune in banking and investments; they were predators. They were a form of terra indigene.

Looking at Isobel now, Jana knew she wouldn’t forget it again.

Isobel smiled, carefully not showing even a hint of fang. “Your dog is nervous.”

“Yes. We usually take a walk in the morning, but I think I should put her in her crate for a while.”

“It would be harder for an enemy to reach her if she was in a larger cell.” Isobel held out a hand. “You have mail? I will take it.”

“Thanks.” Jana hesitated a moment before stepping forward and giving Isobel the letter. “Why do you think Rusty needs a larger cell? What’s going on?”

“Perhaps nothing. Perhaps a fight.” Isobel walked into the post office.

Oh gods. Who’s fighting? Forcing herself to steady her breathing, Jana looked around. An Eagle perched on one of the new hitching posts, watching her. Hawks soared overhead. Ravens or Crows flew from one tree in the square to the next, but they were silent. Whatever communication was being shared, it wasn’t vocalized.

A little ways down the street, Jana noticed Becky Gott taking her morning constitutional. Hannah and Sarah Gott had taken over two of the alleyway stores for their used-clothing business, and Becky had the job of sorting buttons taken from clothes her aunts deemed fit to be rags or quilting squares, filling glass containers with different colors. But every morning Becky took a walk around the square, waving at people as they opened their stores. Eventually her brother, Jacob, would fetch her and guide her back to the Gotts’ store.

Today, with Rusty whining and Isobel Sanguinati’s comment about a fight still circling in her head, seeing Becky on her own gave Jana a chill.

“Deputy? Morning, Jana!”

Jana worked up a smile as Craig and Dawn Werner, the new land agents, hurried toward her. In their mid-twenties and married just before the war that swept over the continent earlier that summer, they had had the misfortune of losing their jobs a couple of days before the wedding. With some cash from friends and family, they had packed their belongings into two large backpacks and headed out to see some of Thaisia. Then the Elders closed the borders between the regions, making travel difficult if a person didn’t have a work permit. Caught on the wrong side of the border and unable to return to the West Coast town where they had grown up, they had scrambled for food and shelter and safety until they managed to convince someone that they were heading for jobs in Bennett and bought tickets on a bus that covered travel between towns not serviced by the trains.

“Morning. Who is this?” Jana asked, looking at the black-and-white puppy.

“We just got him yesterday and haven’t settled on a name,” Dawn said. “We’re not even sure what breed he is, but we’re hoping he doesn’t get too big.”

Studying the puppy, Jana thought Dawn should hope a lot harder.

When both puppies started whimpering, Jana figured she’d delayed long enough. “I have to—”

“We have a business proposal for reopening the movie theater,” Dawn said hurriedly, holding out a sheaf of papers. “Small scale to start since we’re running the land agent office. Just weekends. I would take care of tickets and the books.”

“I worked part-time in the projection booth of theaters in our home town and could take care of showing the movies,” Craig said.

“Could you . . . ?” Dawn glanced toward the government building, then quickly looked away when Tolya Sanguinati stepped up to the open window and looked down at them.

“Yeah, okay.” Aware that she should be heading up to the mayor’s office to talk to Tolya, Jana looked at Becky, who seemed to be studying something in the grass. She hoped it wasn’t poop. “Drop the proposal off at the sheriff’s office this afternoon and I’ll take a look at it. Right now, I need a favor. That’s Becky Gott.”

“Okay,” Craig said.

“I’d like you . . .”

Horses. Screaming.

The Eagle launched itself skyward. The Ravens were suddenly in motion.

A fight, Isobel had said. Looked like it had arrived. But who were they fighting?

Jana gave Craig a shove. “Grab Becky and get inside.”

“Where . . . ?” Dawn began, scooping up her own puppy.

“Anywhere! Just get inside. Now!” Certain that Rusty would run away from strangers if she gave her to Dawn, Jana unclipped the leash from the pup’s collar and dropped it. Better to let the dog run and hide than have the leash tangle in something and leave Rusty vulnerable to whatever had frightened the horses.

Drawing her weapon out of the holster, she strode across the square, trusting Craig and Dawn to look after Becky. If she could reach the office, she’d take a moment to shut Rusty inside.

She was almost across the square when she heard gunshots coming from the direction of the livery stable.

As she looked in that direction, a woman on the other side of the square screamed—Dawn or Becky. Rusty stopped suddenly and barked, a frightened, frantic sound.

Pivoting, Jana cocked the hammer and raised her gun.

Two dogs racing toward her from the direction of the stables. The one in the lead was a big brute. Nowhere near as big as the Wolves, but the biggest dog she’d ever seen.

In the second before she pulled the trigger, she wished she’d asked about a firing range where officers must have practiced, wished she’d tested the revolver. Wished . . .

Sound exploded around her. Even as the gunshot filled her ears and head, she heard the sound of fighting off to her right and saw both dogs still coming toward her—not running from the livery stable, running at her.

No time. No time.

She shot the first dog in the chest and put two bullets into the second dog just before it launched itself at her. A savage cry had her spinning around in time to shoot the dog that had been charging her from behind. She had one round left, and the fourth dog . . .

She jerked the revolver skyward to avoid shooting Joshua Painter as the dog grabbed the boy’s left arm, exposing its own belly. Joshua’s right hand lashed out, and the claws on the specially made leather glove ripped the dog’s belly open.

Jana took a step toward the fight still taking place on the other side of the square. One dog ran toward her, trying to flee from the Wolves’ attack. Before she could take aim, smoke raced above the ground and overtook the dog. Hands formed, grabbed the dog, and snapped its neck. When the dog dropped, the smoke shifted into Tolya Sanguinati.

Silence, followed by a savage, furious snarl.

And then a lone Wolf howled.

Jana looked back. The dogs she’d shot were dead or dying. Either way, they were no longer a threat. Neither was the dog Joshua had gutted. But the boy . . .

“Joshua?” She kept her gun lowered but ready as she studied the savage expression in those gray-ringed green eyes. “You okay?”

He rose from his crouched position over the dog. His eyes took in her badge, her gun, and . . .

She knew Rusty had returned before she felt the pup press against her leg. She crouched, her eyes never leaving Joshua’s face, and rested one hand on the pup. She didn’t know where Rusty had gone, if the pup had stayed near her or had run and now returned. She’d been focused on keeping them alive.

“It’s okay, girl. It’s okay. You okay?” She risked a quick glance at the pup. No blood. A quick feel revealed no injuries that she could detect.

“She belongs to you?”

She stopped the instinctive move of raising the gun. In that moment of distraction, Joshua had closed the distance between them without making a sound.

He might be human, but he’d been raised by the Panthergard and was, in his own way, just as much a predator as the terra indigene. That was something she couldn’t afford to forget.

“Yes, she’s mine,” Jana replied.

He nodded. “She stayed close. Would have died if you hadn’t been a good predator, but she stayed close.” He met Jana’s eyes. “Loves you.”

She swallowed hard. Did his being an Intuit make his certainty more powerful? “Your arm?”

He held up the left arm and gave her a feral smile that made her shiver. From wrist to elbow he wore a quilted sleeve over his shirt. Thick, puffy thing—slimmer than the suits officers wore when training dogs for police work, but it had done the trick.

“Might have bruises,” Joshua said as he considered the arm. Then he shrugged.

A Wolf howled again.

Jana sprang to her feet. Only one Wolf howling—and many terra indigene flying toward the spot where the Wolfgard had fought the dogs.

“Jana!” Barb ran toward her from the direction of the diner, then skidded to a stop when she saw the dogs. “Oh.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh.”

“They were enemies,” Joshua said, his voice hard.

“I know, I know.” Barb wiped the tears off her face, then paled as she stared at the bloody, clawed glove on Joshua’s hand and understood what it meant.

Looking at Barb’s face, Jana understood the dogs weren’t the only thing that had died on the square that morning. She wouldn’t be surprised if the stack of romances about the wild man tamed by love were quietly returned to the book-sorting room.

“Barb,” Jana said softly.

Barb sniffed. “Is Rusty okay?”

“Yeah. Can you take her to the office for me? I need to check on Virgil and Kane.”

“Sure.” Hooking a couple of fingers under Rusty’s collar, Barb led the pup to the sheriff’s office. Joshua watched her go but didn’t follow.

Jana holstered her gun and ran to the other side of the square.

With a furious snarl, Virgil tore out the throat of the last enemy. Then he howled.

We are here. A message to the other terra indigene who had joined the fight as well as a message to the Elders. We are here.

The Wolves had needed to meet the enemy pack, so he’d ignored the gunshots coming from the building where the horses lived. And he’d heard another gun being fired in the square. He needed to find the rest of the fighters, but first . . .

Virgil leaped over the bodies of the dead dogs to reach his brother, who struggled to stand on three legs. Kane’s left hip was ripped and bloody—was still bleeding.

Standing next to Kane so his brother could lean against him, Virgil howled again—this time, a cry for help. In the wild country, the Wolfgard would have licked the wound to clean it, would have found the safest place for a packmate to rest—and if their pack didn’t have a bodywalker who had learned how to set bones and close up wounds, they would have hunted for their wounded, starving themselves if game was scarce.

But here the Wolfgard were too few, and the dogs had been many, despite the Wolves receiving help from the Sanguinati.

“Virgil? Kane?”

Virgil watched Jana as she ran toward them, as Tolya Sanguinati headed toward them.

They were few, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a pack.

Movement coming from the side. Virgil turned his head and snarled.

Tobias Walker, his gun still in his hand, stopped moving. Raising one hand, he carefully holstered his weapon.

“Anyone hurt?” Tobias asked.

“Kane,” Jana said. “Gods, he’s bleeding.”

Her voice sounded . . . strange. High. Not like the wolverine who challenged him all the time.

“I called the vet for another reason,” Tolya said. “He’ll be at his clinic now.”

“My truck is at the livery stable,” Tobias said. “I’ll throw a couple of blankets in the bed for padding. We’ll get him there.”

“I have the official vehicle,” Jana said.

“Let Tobias Walker drive,” Tolya said.

Something in the Sanguinati’s voice warned that there would be no discussion—and that made Virgil look closer at the wolverine. No blood on her. He hadn’t noticed her having trouble moving. But Tolya recognized there was something not right about her. He couldn’t put a word to what he sensed, but he agreed.

Tobias ran to fetch the truck.

Even using the terra indigene form of communication, Kane sounded weak.

He knew that. He didn’t like it, not with Kane so hurt, but he knew it.

Yes. She wasn’t a Wolf, but she was a member of their pack.

Tolya met his eyes, then looked at Jana. “Virgil needs to help me deal with this. You should go with Kane and Tobias.”

Jana nodded. “What about the other thing you wanted me to do?”

“Stewart Dixon isn’t here yet. Scythe will look after the females until you return and are ready to talk to them.”

Crowgard cawed a warning moments before Tobias appeared with the truck. The Intuit drove carefully, turning the truck around so that the back was close to the Wolves. Tobias hopped out and opened the tailgate.

Tolya stepped forward. “I’ll lift Kane into the truck.” The Sanguinati smiled, showing a hint of fang. “He’s heavy.”

Tobias eyed Kane and nodded.

It was easy to forget the Sanguinati were strong. As smoke, they did not look strong, even if they could outrun Wolves in that form. But Tolya lifted Kane and set him on the tailgate before shifting to a form between human and smoke and flowing into the bed of the pickup to help Kane take a few staggering steps to the blankets Tobias had piled up as a nest.

Jana did a twisty hop that ended with her sitting on the tailgate. She scooted over to Kane, one hand resting on his shoulder as he lowered his head to her thigh and sighed.

Tobias looked at Virgil. “We’ll look after him.”

He had to trust. But he waited until Tolya was the only one close enough to hear him before he let out a quiet, distressed whine.