Protector Wolf. Linda Johnston O.
strode quickly down the sidewalk.
Beside him were his dog, Rocky, and his aide, Staff Sergeant Piers Janus. The two soldiers were dressed in civilian clothing—nice slacks and button-down shirts. They were here in Fritts Corner, Washington, undercover.
According to the map on Piers’s phone, the park they sought was only a block away. Ryan scoped out the whole street—fairly narrow, considering it was the quaint town’s main avenue. Some of the buildings appeared to have been constructed more than a century ago, with spires, decorative windows and wide porches that led into restaurants and other retail establishments.
“We’re almost there,” Piers said, staring at the phone in his hand. Piers was short and a bit stocky, and despite his being in his early twenties his blondish hair had begun to thin. But he was a damned good helper—in many respects.
Piers held Rocky’s leash, and the dog bounded along with him.
The dog with thick brown-and-black fur who resembled a wolf.
A wolf who looked a lot like Ryan...when he was in shifted form.
The air was brisk but dry on this Thursday afternoon in September. Cars drove by in both directions, with no hint of any traffic jam in this small town. People passed by as well, and a few headed in the same direction they did.
Interesting that on the day of their arrival a public meeting was scheduled about the very topic they’d come to check out.
But maybe it wasn’t too surprising. After all, though there had been sightings of wild wolves for years in various areas of Washington State, even identification of some small packs, the latest new sightings had been right around here, in this area southeast of Tacoma.
And when Ryan, sounding as offhand as he could, mentioned wolf sightings to their hotel’s receptionist a short while ago when they checked in, she had immediately perked up and told him that a naturalist had just come to town and was going to talk on that very topic in less than an hour.
That was really interesting since wolves previously hadn’t been spotted around here much for a long time, the receptionist had acknowledged. Lots of people in town were fascinated by the situation...though some weren’t too happy about it.
There. The open-air park, mostly green, rolling lawn with a few trees, was finally off to their right. A large crowd stood on the grass facing a raised podium that appeared old and worn, perhaps even constructed around the same time as the rest of the town.
On it stood a tall and slender woman. A screen behind her contained a photo of a wolf, projected there by some modern equipment that clearly wasn’t as antique as the town.
“The pictures I’ve shown you are from other areas in Washington,” she was saying into a microphone so her deep, energetic voice projected around the area. “It’s so exciting that wild wolves have been returning to this state. Of course WHaM has been keeping up with the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife’s postings online, as well as US Fish and Wildlife, which has jurisdiction for their protection around here. We’re thrilled—and tracking them, too, taking a census including the official estimate of nineteen packs in the state. Plus, we encourage the media to let the public know. Any media people here?” A few hands were raised. “Great!”
WHaM. That was Wildlife Habitat Monitoring, Ryan knew. He needed to talk to this woman after her presentation, and using his cover of being with the US Fish and Wildlife Service—not the state’s—should make it easy for him to find out everything WHaM knew about the latest wolf sightings.
Of course their agenda was far different from his. Wolf sightings to them would be just that—evidence of the continuing but slow return of wild wolves to increasing locations in this state, fewer here than in the eastern part. And some had already been destroyed after attacking livestock, though not in this area.
Ryan was here on his first lead assignment representing Alpha Force. Rocky and Piers had come along as his backups. He was the only commissioned officer present—and the only member here of that covert military unit of shapeshifters who was actually a shifter himself.
For the moment, he eased his way through the large group of onlookers, men, women and children of all ages, knowing that Piers would follow with Rocky. Rocky might garner some attention since he looked so much like a wolf, but that was because he was Ryan’s cover dog. He had been chosen because of his resemblance to Ryan in shifted form. That way, in case anyone noticed him while shifted, they’d be told it was Ryan’s dog they’d seen. Him as a shapeshifter? What a laugh.
Or so went the cover story he’d been provided by Alpha Force.
He finally reached the front of the crowd after excusing himself and smiling and looking apologetic to lots of people along the way.
What did they all think of the slow influx of wolves around here?
Were any of them shapeshifters, too?
Ryan would find that out while he was here. Quickly. It was a major part of his assignment.
And if there were other shifters? Well, he’d determine, once he’d found and spoken with them, exactly what that might mean with respect to their lives here...and, potentially, to Alpha Force.
Right now, though, he moved over to give Piers and Rocky room to stand beside him. The woman was still talking, speaking with such excitement that it appeared contagious. Lots of folks in his area were cheering and clapping.
Which meant he’d better take time to listen.
“Wolves are such wonderful creatures,” she was saying—and that warmed his insides immediately. This close he could see how attractive she was, with a curvaceous body and a face pretty enough to put her onstage for something other than a wildlife proponent rally. “They’re smart, loyal to their packs, loving to their families and more. They’re—” She had been scanning the crowd with her gaze as she spoke, sometimes waving her slender arm beneath its black WHaM T-shirt up toward the screen behind her, where the pictures of wolves had now turned into a rotation. But now she stopped.
She was looking down toward Ryan, which gave him immediate pause—until he realized she was instead staring at Rocky.
“Is that a wolf among us?” she asked, this time looking right into Ryan’s eyes, or so it appeared from this distance.
He smiled and called out, “No, he’s my pet, a shepherd-husky mix for the most part, I think. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some wolf ancestry in there, too.”
“Me, neither,” she said. But cocking her head so her long, pale brown hair slipped to the side, she held the microphone back up to her mouth. “Okay, folks, you’ll need to see that adorable dog before you leave here this afternoon, especially if you’ve never seen a wolf before. But one thing I should mention is that wolves are wild animals and should stay that way.” She paused, and again stared right into Ryan’s face so intensely he felt as if she was almost touching him. Maybe slapping him. But she looked away again before she said, “Everyone, never, ever, try to turn a wild animal into a pet...especially wolves.”
* * *
Maya Everton wanted to jump right off that stage and confront that guy. No, what she really wanted was to meet that wolf-dog face-to-face, hug it, feel its soft fur.
And then let it loose, as wolves should be. Only she realized that, even if that canine had once been wild, as a pup or older, it could probably not survive in the wild now.
Maybe she could talk to his owner later, find out the dog’s background, so she could hopefully feel content that she was wrong, that this truly was a canine with dog genes that had never actually been a wild wolf.
“Okay,” she was saying despite her thoughts twisting in so many ways. “Has anyone here seen any of the wolves that have visited this area?”
A woman way toward the back of the generous crowd waved her hand. Maya was thrilled that so many people had shown up to see her, to hear her talk about WHaM and its excellent work keeping track