“Thousands of years ago, a curse was placed upon a shape-shifter wolf by a sorceress. She took away his ability to shift by making him half human, but she also took away all that was human about him while he was in wolf form. The descendants of that shifter were the original werewolves. They were human beings who turned into werewolves during the full moon. They had no control over the transformation. Those werewolves, when in the grip of their wolf selves, were governed by uncontrollable rage and hunger for blood. The curse caused those werewolves to lose all control of their rational minds, and when they returned to their human form, they remembered nothing, or very little, of what they had done. They transferred their condition through a bite, assuming that the bitten human survived the attack.”

Maria listened, fascinated, to what Lowell was saying. “So there is actually some truth behind those stories in the horror films and books?”

Lowell nodded. “A great deal of truth.” He grinned. “Although many of the images that have emerged in popular culture are foolish. These onscreen images of young men contorting into grotesque and painful shapes before they emerge in their wolf form are so far from the truth it’s a joke. Shifting is not a long, drawn-out process. To a werewolf, it is as quick, painless, and natural as breathing.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.” Maria looked around Lowell’s beautiful home. “But your life could not be further from the curse you’ve just described. What changed?”

“Over a lengthy period of time, werewolves have mutated. It was a remarkable feat. Now, we are able to maintain control over the lust for human blood with which the sorceress cursed us, although our other wolf instincts remain as strong as ever. The majority of us are able to live alongside humans undetected. Our wolf traits make us successful in our human lives. We are tenacious, loyal, and hardworking.”

“You said the majority can live alongside human undetected. What about the others?”

“Sadly, there a few feral werewolves who are still under the control of the original curse.” Lowell’s expression was regretful.

“What happens to them?” Although she asked the question, Maria wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Because they can’t control their desire for human blood they usually end their days in prisons or mental institutions.”

“When you shift for the first time, how do you know you won’t get it wrong and end up being feral?”

Madden gripped her wrist. “You are overthinking this. The only way you will know what it’s like to shift is to go ahead and do it.”

She nodded. Although the golden sunlight still streamed in through the window, it was late evening. They were seated in the study, facing Lowell, who sat on the other side of his antique desk. The walls of the room were lined with shelves that were crammed with the books on werewolf folklore that Odessa had joked about when Maria first arrived.

“I don’t understand how I’ll do that,” she confessed. “You all grew up knowing how to do it. This is all new to me.”

“Madden is right. Don’t worry too much about it,” Lowell said. “I’ll lend you some books to read. You’ll know when the time is right.”

What if that’s never? Maria didn’t ask the question out loud.

“Arctic werewolves are unique. The reason goes right back to the times of Norse legend when the great god Odin put the sun and moon into chariots to fly back and forth across the sky. But the sun and moon didn’t always do their job properly and the length of the days and nights were not uniform. To solve the problem, Odin bespelled two giant wolves, the sons of the most fearsome werewolf ever known, the great werewolf god Fenrir.”

“The one you told me about? The one who escaped?” Maria asked Madden.

He smiled. “The same one.”

“Their names of the wolves Odin chose are Skoll and Hati,” Lowell continued. “Odin gave Skoll the task of chasing the sun across the sky, while Hati was to chase the moon. Arctic werewolves are descended from Hati and all other werewolves are descended from Skoll. One day we Arctics hope our own mighty god, Hati, will catch the moon and bring about perpetual day and other werewolves hope Skoll will catch the sun and cause permanent night.”

The stories were fascinating, but Maria was worried about Madden. He had looked tired and distracted and she had hardly seen him over the past day or two. The members of the Alaskan Frontier Force had arrived in Fairbanks and had set up a base in the police headquarters. Although nothing definite was known, they were treating Hendrik’s disappearance as a Cage Killer case. She knew Madden was busy searching for something—anything—that would lead them to the murderer before Hendrik was killed.

At the same time, the other members of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun had arrived at Lowell’s house. Sebastian, who Maria had already met, Vigo, Wilder, and Jenny had answered Madden’s summons and turned up earlier that day. Like the human police, they had little to go on. They were waiting for something to break in the case, some clue to show up, so they could go to their friend’s rescue.

The atmosphere crackled with tension. Maria felt as though the answers they sought were just out of reach beyond an invisible barrier. If they could just thrust that barrier aside . . . she couldn’t shake the thought that she held the means to do it. That, somehow, she was the person who could get past that veil and find the truth they were seeking. Was it because of an inflated sense of her own importance in this investigation? She didn’t think so. Whatever it was, no matter how hard she tried, nothing was coming to her. She was no closer to knowing how she could help than she had been on the day she was rescued. Being clueless just about summed her up lately.

At least one thing had changed for the better. Her hands weren’t a pretty sight, but the nurse who had attended to her had replaced the bulky bandages with sterile dressings. She was even managing to use her right hand again at last.

Madden needed her support right now. He didn’t have to hear that she was feeling wobbly about her whole newfound werewolf identity. He didn’t need to share every step of that journey with her. She had to get through this herself. Either ease herself into it gradually, or crash head-on into the werewolf world. However she chose to do this, she didn’t have to share every detail of her thoughts on the subject with a man who was already overloaded with so many worries it was a wonder he was managing to function at all.

When Lowell left them alone, Madden held out his hand to her. His smile made something in Maria’s insides unwind. They should be able to market that smile and use it for medical purposes. Or maybe it’s just me. Perhaps he’s my therapy and no one else’s. She liked that thought. It was like they had their own private world in which she didn’t have to share him with other people.

“It’s been crazy. I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.” She went to him, sinking to her knees beside his chair and resting her cheek against the hard muscle of his thigh. Something about the position felt natural, although she didn’t know why.

Madden rubbed his hand across the fuzz of hair on her head and, although Maria missed her long curls, the action felt good. A flare of something hot and wanting shimmered in the air. Lifting her face to his, Maria saw her own need reflected in Madden’s eyes. Shifting position so that she knelt between his thighs, she rubbed the heel of her hand against the bulge in his jeans. The outline of his already hard erection strained against the zipper.

She smiled. “I may need a little help with this first part. After that, I wasn’t planning on using my hands.”

* * *

Madden unsnapped his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Lifting his hips, he tugged his jeans and briefs down around his thighs. His cock responded enthusiastically by jerking free of the restraints and pointing straight up.

Rising up from her kneeling position, Maria kissed her way from his lips down his neck, reaching his hip bones and nibbling her way lightly across them. Teasing him with her mouth and tongue, she let him know exactly where her mouth was heading, but took her time about getting there.

Ducking her head down, she took one of his balls in her mouth, shocking him with the unexpected, deliciously erotic action. Madden nearly jerked out of his seat as she sucked gently on the delicate globe, massaging it with her tongue. His head fell back and he gazed up at the ceiling with a groan. She enveloped each of his balls in her mouth in turn, wrapping them in wet heat until Madden felt like a freight train of pleasure was roaring through his sac.

Releasing him, she began to use the tip of her tongue to lick from the base of his cock up and down the entire shaft, rolling her tongue around the sides. Each time she reached the tip, she paused to gently kiss and lick it, taking a little bit more into her mouth each time.

Although her fingers were out of action, she used the heel of her right hand to rub against his shaft as she took him into her mouth. Relaxing her jaw, she took him in slowly, inch by throbbing inch until he was all the way inside. Humming lightly to herself—the action vibrating against his sensitive flesh—she began to move her head up and down, taking him deep so that he hit the back of her throat each time.

Madden’s hips bucked in time with her movements. His whole body was shaking, awash with a pleasure so fierce it robbed him of any remnant of control. He wanted to take this slow, savor every second. He groaned in defeat. Who was he kidding? Slow wasn’t going to happen. Every stroke of those velvet lips, every brush of that wicked tongue was sending him careening wildly toward the release his body was demanding.

He slid a hand down Maria’s cheek. “Your mouth feels like heaven.”

She lifted her eyes to his and the warmth and passion he saw in their golden depths made him whimper as the blistering waves of heat stoked even higher. He lifted his hips in time with her mouth, matching her rhythm. When his orgasm hit, it was agonizing in its intensity, and he cried out. As he exploded, Maria tightened her mouth on him, swallowing his release. Madden’s whole body shuddered wildly, and he helplessly rode out the waves before gradually falling back to earth.

Despite his dazed state, he moved fast. Rising, he tugged his clothing into place.

“Upstairs. Now.” His voice rasped with a need that was only partially sated.

“I thought you had work to do.” There was a teasing smile on the lips that were swollen and damp from their recent activity.

He caught hold of her upper arm, pulling her to him. “You just started something that I intend to finish.” He saw the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes and felt her hardened nipples pressing into his chest. “Now are you going to walk up the stairs or do I have to carry you?”

“You are very demanding.” The words, like her breathing, came out hard and fast as she moved to the door.

“And I’m about to get a whole lot more so.”

When they reached her bedroom, he slammed the door closed and shucked off his clothes before getting rid of Maria’s.

“On the bed.” He could barely speak for the coiled tension gripping his muscles.

Obediently, Maria lay in the middle of the bed, her knees falling apart to reveal the sweet spot he could hardly wait to drive his cock into. Restraining his impatience with an effort, he started at the base of her neck, running the tips of his fingers between her breasts, over her flat belly, and down between her thighs. He parted her further and she lifted her hips to meet his hand.

Gazing down at her, he circled her clit with his middle finger, watching her face as her eyes widened and she gasped. Without giving her time to catch her breath, he drove two fingers into her and fastened his mouth to her clitoris. And sucked. Maria went into a frenzy, writhing and calling out his name. Madden hardened again instantly. The taste of her was intoxicating, drawing him into a trancelike state. He lost himself in mindless pleasure as he circled her nub with his tongue and drove his fingers in and out. After a minute or two, he realized he was growling low in his throat.

“Ah, please, Madden . . . I need you inside me.” It was a plea that sounded like it had been dragged from Maria in between her desperate moans.

Inside her. That sounded like heaven. He took one final lick and withdrew his fingers. They hadn’t discussed protection but it wasn’t necessary. Maria was a werewolf. Her cycle was the same as a wolf’s and she was only fertile in the mating season. But that conversation could wait for another time. As he rolled a condom down his rigid length, he opened her thighs wide. Moving her legs over his shoulders, he positioned himself so that the head of his cock was just grazing her glistening entrance. Maria’s eyes closed in anticipation and her mouth parted on a sigh.

Madden wanted to take this slow, so he didn’t obey his instincts and plunge straight into her welcoming warmth. Instead, he slid smoothly forward, allowing his thick head to penetrate her. Maria’s eyes opened wide. As Madden moved, he stared down at her, watching every tiny reaction. Enjoying the widening of her eyes as his girth stretched her, the blink of pleasure as he pushed deeper. Everything she needed to say to him about how he felt inside her was right there in those looks.

As he began to move, his thick shaft opened her further, sliding into molten heat. His hips moved up between her legs, pushing her thighs even further apart. His every sense was on high alert. Maria’s soft cries sent fingers of fire down his spine and straight to his balls. Pulling back, he began to piston faster. Maria’s hips slammed up from the bed in response. God, she was so responsive. So fucking tight and wet around him.

Madden kept up this new rhythm of hard, fast thrusts. Maria moved the heels of her hands down to his buttocks and pressed into them, urging him on. Both of them were panting now, their bodies slamming hard together. His cock was so hard it felt like steel as he drove it relentlessly into her. Maria gave a soft cry as she met each forward thrust. Madden’s body began to heat and tighten, as it spiraled out of control toward his release.

With a ragged groan, he felt the first spasm. Maria felt it too and the sensation sent her over the edge. Her inner muscles clenched hard around him, deepening the first explosion. Madden groaned as the intensity of his orgasm hit hard and his cock jerked wildly. Maria pressed herself tight against him, every part of them in contact from groin to neck as they writhed and trembled in unison. Finally, they clung together, helpless to do anything except hold each other in the wake of their mutual storm.

* * *

“The man Hendrik Rickard was due to meet doesn’t exist.” Callie Monroe started the meeting with the words no one wanted to hear.

“This is the art consultant, right?” Madden checked his notes.

“That’s the one. The name Hendrik wrote in his diary is Ian Spicer,” Callie confirmed. “So we checked Hendrik’s laptop, and we found email correspondence with an Ian Spicer. The first email was sent a week ago by Ian Spicer. The signature line gives a fake address here in Fairbanks.” Callie flipped a switched and brought up a copy of the email on the large screen that was positioned at one end of the room. “As you can see, the person claiming to be Ian Spicer introduces himself as an associate of Hendrik’s former art consultant. He offers his services since Hendrik’s consultant has retired and suggests a meeting.”

“Does anyone know if Hendrik contacted his former consultant to check out this guy’s credentials?” Paul Crozier asked.

“It looks like Hendrik did try, but he didn’t get a response. His former consultant, name of Powell, left on a world cruise a few weeks ago and, although I managed to get in touch with him last night, he confirmed that he hasn’t been answering calls or emails.” Hazel Stewart generally took responsibility for long-distance communication. “Powell was able to confirm that he has never heard of an Ian Spicer.”

Madden clenched his fist on the table. The Cage Killer—because he knew in his gut this was the Cage Killer—had stepped right into his world and snatched one of his friends. This had become personal. “So Hendrik decided to go ahead and meet Ian Spicer anyway?”

“That’s how it looks.” Callie nodded. “The other emails between the two men are brief, just containing details of where and when.”

“Which was?”

Callie flipped through the remaining emails. “According to the emails and Hendrik’s diary, they were due to meet at the Blue Parrot. It’s a coffee shop attached to the Fairbanks Art Gallery. We can confirm that the meeting did take place. Witnesses, including the coffee shop owner, confirm that Hendrik met with another man. We can be fairly sure it was Hendrik because of his distinctive coloring.”

Callie’s eyes flickered over Madden. He knew what she was thinking. He also knew she wasn’t the only one. Hendrik had the same unusual coloring as their boss. As all the other victims. They were all asking themselves the same question. What the hell was this? Madden knew the truth, of course. He just couldn’t tell them.

Callie collected herself and continued. “There was nothing remarkable about that meeting. The two men ordered coffee, sat down, talked for about twenty minutes to half an hour, drank their coffee, then left. The coffee shop owner thought their conversation was amicable, but it was busy that day so she couldn’t be sure. Whatever they talked about, Ian Spicer was persuasive enough to get Hendrik to leave his car in the parking lot at the Blue Parrot and go with him.”

“You’re sure about that?” Madden asked.

Callie pressed a few buttons on her laptop and a grainy image appeared on the screen. “This was taken from the closed-circuit television that the firm operating the parking lot security uses. It’s not great, but you can see these two figures here.” She pointed with the cursor. “The taller one with the lighter hair is Hendrik.”

Madden watched as his friend walked with the other man to a car and got into the passenger side. Even though the images were grainy, he couldn’t see any evidence that Hendrik was being coerced. It looked like the two men were talking companionably.

“Can we get those images enhanced?” he asked.

“We’re working on it right now. And we are gathering witness statements about the appearance of the man Hendrik was with,” Callie said.

“Get the same guy who did Maria’s sketch onto it.” Madden dredged up his name from the depths of his memory. “Redmond Wilkes. That way if there are similarities, he’ll be onto them.”

Callie scribbled down a note. “I’ll contact him as soon as the meeting is over.”

“What about Hendrik’s car?” Madden frowned at the screen again. Hendrik wasn’t stupid. How had the Cage Killer gained his trust so quickly? Because that’s what he does. He’s good at this. His mind tried to grab an elusive connection, but Callie was speaking again and the thought was lost.

“Still where he left it in the parking lot at the Blue Parrot,” Callie confirmed. “Forensics are checking it out, but I’m guessing the killer never went near it.”

Madden knew he had to keep his personal feelings out of this. As his team discussed Hendrik’s private life, he had to refrain from jumping into the conversation and offering his opinion, particularly when the discussion switched to whether Hendrik could have been attracted to the other man and gone with him for sex. Madden wanted to point out that his friend had been married and had a daughter, that he was in a long-term relationship and that sex with strangers wasn’t his style. But he knew he had to keep an open mind. He had to treat this case like any other and pretend he didn’t know Hendrik. His friend’s life might depend on it.

It was only as the meeting was ending that he remembered what Callie had said that had struck him as odd. That connection his brain had been trying, and failing to make, fell into place. “In every case, this killer has gained the trust of the victim and got them to go with him.”

Callie nodded. “He must be very persuasive. Do you think he changes his cover story each time? That must take a hell of a lot of research.”

“No.” Madden shook his head. “That’s not where I’m going with this. There was one case that was different. With Maria, he came up behind her with a gun instead of meeting her face-to-face and charming her into going with him.”

Paul Crozier let out a soft whistle. “Why was that? Could she have known him?”

Callie frowned. “But surely if she already knew him, she would have been more likely to go with him?”

“Unless she didn’t trust him,” Madden said.