Undercover Wolf Page 2

  Quinn and she immediately headed for a stairway down to the lab areas, clean rooms and primary Alpha Force offices. This, Kristine knew, was where those supposedly magical formulations of the Alpha Force elixir were mixed and changed and improved. She sometimes wished she knew more about how they worked, how they acted to enhance the process and conditions of shapeshifting.

  But she never wished that she were a shapeshifter. Oh, she admired them. Liked working with them. But when all was said and done, she preferred being...well, herself.

  At the bottom, Quinn reached around to open the door for her. She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture. Maybe there was hope for him to be a real soldier yet.

  Not that it really mattered to her.

  She gasped as a backlighted body clad in a camo uniform loomed before them in the hallway. It was late, and she hadn’t expected to see anyone there.

  “Glad you two are finally back,” said Maj. Drew Connell, commanding officer of Alpha Force. “Come with me. There’s something important going on that I need to brief you about.”

  Kristine had thought it interesting and fitting that a shifter had been designated to command this covert unit. At first she had wondered whether she would accept taking orders from those who were so different from her. Now, it was second nature.

  If Drew said something significant was happening, that meant it was definitely critical.

  He ushered them into the small office off the main lab facility where he and others worked on the shifting formulation. He was not only the one who had developed the prototype, but he had also stayed closely involved with its modifications.

  “Sit down. Please.” It was an order, but people around here tended to give orders more politely than the rest of the military, as if Alpha Force was different.

  Which it was.

  “What’s up?” asked Quinn, as he settled his large frame into the designated seat across from Drew’s desk. “Sir,” he added when Drew’s suddenly chilly golden eyes reminded him where they were and who outranked whom.

  Was this some kind of alpha thing, too, among male shifters? Interesting, Kristine thought.

  “Yes, please tell us what’s going on, sir,” she added in a respectful tone, one she hoped Quinn would use himself in the future.

  “A couple of people were killed two nights ago in Acadia National Park,” he said, his face grim.

  That had been a night when the moon was full, Kristine realized.

  Before Drew could continue, Quinn interrupted. “That’s near Bar Harbor, Maine. Where Simon and Grace went on their honeymoon. I haven’t been in touch for a couple of days—didn’t want to bother them. Are they okay?” He had stood abruptly, and Kristine empathized, although she remained seated. She was worried, too.

  “Unknown so far,” Drew said. “The victims have been identified and aren’t Grace and Simon, so you needn’t worry about that. They were apparently attacked by some kind of wild animal, and the first assessment indicates the wounds could have been caused by canines.”

  “Are there wild wolves in that park?” Quinn demanded.

  “Used to be, a long time ago, but not now,” Drew said.

  The three of them were silent for a long moment, staring at one another.

  “Could the attackers have been...werewolves?” Kristine asked quietly.

  “That’s not been proposed officially, even by those who know about Alpha Force,” Drew said. “But—”

  “Has anyone talked to Simon?” Quinn demanded. “To Grace?”

  “Several of us have tried to call them on their cell phones and at their hotel,” Drew replied. “We haven’t been able to reach either of them.”

  Chapter 2

  The time was 0930. Kristine was surprised that this group of people, which included both brass and nonmilitary honchos, could come together so quickly here in such a remote location, but it had happened. Around twenty people were gathered in the assembly room on the first floor of the building at the heart of Ft. Lukman, where the offices of the commanding officers and others were located. Of course most were familiar Alpha Force members, including Lt. Autumn Katers, a shifting hawk, and her aide, Sgt. Ruby Belmont, who had been on a mission with Kristine and Grace in Arizona when Grace had met Simon.

  There were also some relatively new recruits, like Lt. Colleen Hodell, a cougar shifter, and Sgt. Jason Connell, a wolf shifter related to one of the unit’s commanding officers.

  Then there were the others.

  Kristine had entered the room fifteen minutes before and taken a seat out of the mainstream of the Alpha Force group, on one of the theater-style chairs mounted on the concrete floor. She had left a chair empty beside her in case Quinn decided to join her.

  Quinn had just come in with Maj. Connell and Lt. Patrick Worley, the hands-on commanding officers of Alpha Force, whom he’d probably waylaid in the hall. He stood with them now at the front of the room, apparently attempting to pump them in advance for information. But he didn’t seem overly pushy, at least not from Kristine’s perspective. His expression seemed interested, his nods deferential. Had he decided to accept where he ranked in the military, or was he just acting that way to get what he wanted? Or was she entirely wrong in her interpretation from this distance?

  Damn, but she wanted to join them.

  She glanced at her watch. The meeting was scheduled to begin in about two minutes. The officers wouldn’t appreciate her interrupting them—that would only delay the assembly they’d thrown together so quickly.

  She couldn’t help feeling a bit riled. Quinn should have contacted her, involved her in his discussion. They were a team, at least for the moment. He ought to recognize that. Live by it.

  Even so, she recognized that though they had similar interests in what was about to be discussed, his interest was even greater than hers. She was a buddy and comrade-in-arms with Grace.

  He was Simon’s brother.

  Apparently Quinn and she weren’t the only ones worried about what was happening with the two missing Alpha Force members. The concerns of most of these people, though, might be more about the effect of the current situation on the unit than on the individual members involved.

  Okay, call her cynical. She gave a damn about Alpha Force, a lot more than, say, Quinn did. And, most likely, more than those now in an apparently intense discussion with Gen. Greg Yarrow near the door at the side of the room, including a couple of suits and a higher-ranking general.

  But the people involved, and what was happening to them, were important, too.

  That was why she had tried calling Grace’s cell phone. Three times.

  And left three messages, each more urgent than the last.

  None had been returned.

  “Okay, let’s get started.” Drew broke away from his discussion with Quinn and Patrick and stood at the front of the room in front of the U.S. flag to address the whole gathering. Quinn did not look pleased, but he moved quickly toward her, beyond the couple of rows filled mostly with others in camo uniforms—both shifting and nonshifting members of Alpha Force. Kristine had already noticed that among them was Dr. Melanie Harding-Connell, a local veterinarian and Drew’s wife. They’d had a baby a few months ago, and the little girl, Emily, was sleeping in a nearby stroller. Melanie was not a member of the military and was also not a shifter, although her husband was both.

  More than once, Kristine had wondered what little Emily’s shifting abilities might eventually be. Her understanding was that the gene was dominant, so the baby would grow into a werewolf.

  Interesting, that Melanie would choose to marry and have an unusual child. Kristine was aware that most shifters were the result of mixed marriages. She loved working with shifters, but marrying one? Giving birth to a baby shifter?

  How would a nonshifting parent cope?

  Maybe she was too traditional, despite being part of Alpha Force, but give her a nice, calm, loving marriage someday, preferably to another soldier, and a home filled with regular kids. Kids who
were loved. Well cared for. A family that was way different from her own disastrous childhood.

  Hell, she’d risen above all that. It had brought her here, where she belonged.

  Quinn sat down beside her on the aisle seat, nodding grimly. She, too, remained silent. She knew he had a close relationship with his brother and could only imagine what he was feeling now, with Simon the center of a situation that could only be bad, whatever the explanation. She had an unwelcome urge to reach over and squeeze Quinn’s large hand, now resting on his leg, in a gesture of comfort, but that wasn’t appropriate.

  “I think you all know why we’re here,” Drew said. He stood in front of the group, speaking without a microphone since everyone had gathered at the front of the room. He probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Kristine had after their quick briefing last night, but he looked alert, his golden eyes sweeping the crowd. “Even so, I’ll describe my understanding of the situation.”

  He briefly went over what he had said to Quinn and her last night. There’d apparently been no further information gathered since then. Two tourists were fatally mauled. Simon and Grace, who had been honeymooning in the area, were missing. The news had been picked up by local media but national coverage was minimal. So far.

  “Are you certain the two things are related?” This came from one of the two men in suits seated in the first row near the generals. The speaker was now standing. Kristine recognized him from the wedding: Darren Olivante, team leader for domestic projects at the Defense Special Projects Agency—the agency within the Department of Defense that had assisted in the creation of Alpha Force and now helped monitor it.

  As Olivante turned to glance around the room, Kristine noticed that his salt-and-pepper hair was longer than the traditional cut of the military members he worked with. He wore glasses and a challenging expression on a round and flabby face.

  General Yarrow rose and walked to the front of the room beside Drew. He, too, had been at Grace and Simon’s wedding. Although he was headquartered at the Pentagon like the Defense Special Projects Agency, he also maintained an office at Ft. Lukman. Kristine hadn’t seen him around here lately, so he must have dashed here for this meeting.

  The general was in his sixties but well preserved, and his hair, although behind a receding hairline, was still black. The wrinkles on his face seemed to show up mostly when he scowled, and he maintained a strong-looking physique.

  “We have received no evidence that the killings and the disappearance of our two officers are related, but it’s a potentially logical assumption,” the general said. “Of course, given the special nature of Alpha Force and its members, we’re hoping the Parrans weren’t involved in mauling those tourists, but the information we’ve been given indicates that the wounds appear to have been caused by at least one wild animal, probably canine. That could indicate—”

  Quinn stood beside Kristine. She tried to grab him, to warn him not to interrupt, but it was too late. His otherwise handsome face had turned an angry shade of red, and he shouted, “If you’re insinuating that my brother and his wife attacked some humans for no reason while shifted, forget it. Isn’t this Alpha Force organization intended to be a pack of sorts? Pack members have each other’s backs. We don’t level false accusations at one another.”

  The DSPA official had remained standing. He glared at Quinn, then turned toward General Yarrow. “I think this is a good example of why the plans we’ve been discussing are the way to go, General,” he said. “And why it’s been so difficult to ensure that funding for Alpha Force stays intact.” Even from several rows back, Kristine could hear the ice dripping from his words.

  But what was he talking about? What plans?

  And was Alpha Force in jeopardy? Without adequate funding, it could disappear. What would happen to its members?

  “My suggestion, sir, is to approach the investigation in a two-pronged way,” General Yarrow said. “And to make sure it’s successful. That will convince the powers that be to appropriate funding. But this isn’t the place to discuss it all.” He turned from the civilian to face Quinn, who remained standing with his hands clenched into tense fists. “Lt. Parran,” the general said, “we will have a private briefing as soon as this meeting is over. For now, you are dismissed.”

  Drew Connell, who stood beside the general, gave a curt nod toward Quinn, seconding the order.

  Quinn didn’t move, except that his gold-tinged brown eyes narrowed. Kristine half expected him to erupt in a heated volcano of protest and fury.

  But he was now a member of Alpha Force. Of the military. He had taken an oath that involved following orders. He’d spoken of the pack mentality of Alpha Force. Surely, he would at least bow to that, to Drew Connell’s authority—wouldn’t he?

  In any event, she was his acting aide.

  She reached up and grabbed his forearm. As she had anticipated, tension had turned it into a steely rod. “Don’t protest,” she whispered up at him. “We’ll talk to the general and the major later and get this all sorted out.”

  He glanced down at her. She almost winced under the barbed anger in his gaze. But in moments, he relaxed. Closed those eyes for an instant.

  Then he called to the ranking officers, “Yes, sirs.” The tone was sardonic, and the salute he flashed after Kristine released his arm was a parody. He turned and started down the aisle toward the door.

  Kristine remained worried for him. He was her charge, after all, at least for now. She had an urge to follow him.

  But she needed to know what was said here. He needed to know, too, whether or not he realized it.

  She remained seated while Drew and General Yarrow described the situation in Maine and the Alpha Force position.

  Then Olivante joined them and commented.

  Kristine was afraid she knew how the investigation was going to be handled. And it wasn’t the best way for Alpha Force.

  * * *

  They sat in a small room outside the general’s office waiting for Major Connell and General Yarrow to call them in.

  “I take it that my attitude—even though I was right—didn’t help my brother’s position,” Quinn said to Kristine with a shrug. He had stayed outside the assembly room, pacing back and forth, until the meeting had disbanded and Kristine joined him. Despite his keen wolflike hearing, even in human form, he hadn’t been able to make out much of what was said.

  Since the meeting had been short, he didn’t expect that there’d been much of substance anyway.

  Only speculation.

  While waiting, he had tried texting, then calling Simon and Grace again. Both calls had gone straight to voice mail, and he had received no responses to any of his attempts to reach them.

  “Probably not,” Kristine answered. Sitting in a stiff military pose in the chair beside him, she raised her head, jutting her chin out in a characteristic motion he had noticed before. It showed her determination. Her stubbornness. Her beauty.

  All right, maybe it wasn’t her most beautiful feature, but he liked it. Enough that he had an urge to touch that strong chin with his fingers. Better yet, cup it and pull her forward so he could test her stubbornness with a kiss...

  He stopped, mentally punching himself. Where had that come from? He had just met her a few days ago, at Simon’s wedding. Yeah, she was a looker, and she’d seen him buck naked—and the thought of her eyes on him started his privates stirring even now.

  But she was also all military. His assigned aide. A nonshifter. Not someone to get all hot over.

  Was worry for his brother turning him into some kind of nutcase?

  Maybe. He’d have to be careful. “So the powers that be, people I don’t even know who can send orders down the pipeline to me, think that my brother and his wife just went on some kind of shifting rampage and killed a couple of innocent folks right out of the blue?”

  Kristine ducked her head, causing the cap of her dark hair to feather around her face. “You could say that.” She grimaced. “They did.” />
  Before Quinn could express what he thought of that, the door opened and Drew appeared. “Come on in,” he said.

  Quinn had been in the general’s office before—when he’d been interrogated about whether he really wanted to join Alpha Force, and also what he could do for it.

  It was quite an office. Not that Quinn had any idea what military offices were supposed to look like, but he figured this might be the epitome. The desk was made of a dark polished wood that looked like mahogany. There was the usual U.S. flag, but the brass pole was anything but ordinary. Then there were the worn classic books on shelves behind the general, written by some of the English-speaking world’s most renowned authors, like Robert Louis Stevenson and Bram Stoker.

  There was a slight scent of brandy that Quinn could smell with his enhanced senses. He glanced toward a closed wooden cabinet behind the desk. The general might fortify himself in here for what he faced while commanding Alpha Force.

  Drew had told Quinn after the last time he’d been here that the general had subsidized all the office furnishings himself just because he wanted to, and this was a getaway from the Pentagon.

  Quinn waved Kristine through the door before him. He might as well act like a gentleman here, since he was committed to being a soldier.

  Damn it.

  Where are you, bro? his mind shouted silently. What the hell’s going on?

  Quinn liked his new sister-in-law, Grace. Had been glad that his brother seemed so happy.

  But he hadn’t been thrilled at being the best man at the wedding, wearing a monkey suit. Being in the middle of a bunch of fawning people, most of whom he didn’t know. Military types. Even a couple of Department of Defense guys, including the one from the DSPA.

  At least he’d never have to do it again. Wolves mated for life. Even shifters.

  Grace was part of their pack. He was as concerned about her as he was about his brother. Almost.

  Drew, Kristine and he sat in the chairs facing the general’s desk. Greg Yarrow stood, then glared at Quinn. “I should strip you of your rank for insubordination,” he growled.