Present

For the third time in fifteen minutes, Julian’s cell phone rang. He’d finally turned off the vibration for every new message. The constant noise irritated the fuck out of him. Hitting answer, he put the phone to his ear. “What?”

“Your phone manners are atrocious.” The sass was something he’d accepted from Amelia. She wouldn’t back down from any confrontation, not even with him. It reminded him of another firebrand.

Not an endearing trait by his estimation. “Then don’t call me.”

Laughter bubbled over the open line. “If only that were an option, but as I recall, you said we had to check in regularly.”

Turned only a few short months before, Amelia Sullivan mated Mitch Jackson, much to the Enforcer’s surprise and in defiance of the law. Both should have gone to the Yukon or Willow Bend. Since breaking the law seemed to be trending of late, Julian made a unilateral decision.

He needed Mitch, and Mitch needed Amelia. She had been listed as an Enforcer in training, a story Mason didn’t remotely believe. The alpha of Willow Bend also didn’t argue with him over the issue.

“Unfortunately, you are correct.” His attention was not on the call but instead on the parking lot. “You and Mitch are secure?”

“We are.” Mitch’s voice carried as though he was across the room. “We also managed to pick up a couple of stragglers and handed them off to Sutter Butte.”

“Peter?” The Lone Wolf belonged to Hadley. After he got two other wolves on their way to the Yukon, he’d vanished.

“No. The two we found were a Milo Henderson, formerly of Delta Crescent, and Janell Garcia. She’s actually from Sutter Butte. Trask was really happy to have her identified.”

It took Julian a beat. The Garcia family had been wiped out—man, woman, and cub—by the Volchitsa. Taking out a whole family group within Sutter Butte had been a brutal demonstration of their power and determination. It made sense why Cassius sent his second to collect her. “Then we are down to only one wolf unaccounted for in the western states.” Which gave the wolf in question a great deal of territory to hide in.

“What about Mason?” Amelia interjected. She’d been relatively quiet despite being the one to make the call. Part of her training included learning to follow orders. Her willfulness aside, she also possessed a unique insight.

“What about him?” Not seeing the connection immediately, Julian waited. Even when it irritated him, she usually had a point.

“Peter was one of Hadley’s wolves. Mason thinks of Hadley as his.”

Yes, the alpha didn’t abandon any of his wolves no matter how long after they left the pack. “You want us to notify Mason of Peter being missing to what end?” Not opposed to the idea, Julian was more interested in the why behind her suggestion.

“The missing wolf is Hudson River, but Hadley is Willow Bend. Willow Bend is closer to Hudson River, it’s also filled with great campsites off the beaten path, plenty of locations for a Lone Wolf to settle in, and stay off the grid at the same time.” Amelia finished with a flourish.

“Interesting.” He’d put a bug in Mason’s ear.

“Ha.” Glee climbed in Amelia’s tone. “I told you it was a good idea.”

“Hadley and John will track him.” Mitch’s confidence echoed, then grew stronger as he narrowed the distance between he and the phone. “Are you really planning on playing bait?” The abrupt change of topic irked him.

“I’m not planning to play anything.” His plan was slightly more insane. “It’s also not open for discussion. You two have your orders. You understand them?”

“Yes,” Mitch replied, it sounded as though he’d taken the phone. “It’s still a bad idea.”

“I don’t pay you to think.” Movement in the parking lot drew his attention and he drifted into the shadows, waiting. He’d chosen his position with care. At the edge, he was downwind of anyone arriving. The newcomer was a businessman striding toward his vehicle while never looking up from his phone.

The Enforcer chuckled. “You don’t pay me at all.”

“True.” Then he added in a quiet voice. “Stay alive. Train Amelia. Stick to the plan.”

“Check in tomorrow.” It was an abrupt acknowledgment. Mitch may not like the plan, but he didn’t disagree with the necessity. The call ended, and Julian split his attention between the lot and the messages, which came in while he spoke to Mitch and Amelia. The businessman pulled out, a headset on and his mouth moving. If the man planned to continue working, he should have stayed in his office.

The messages were more of the same. After a couple of days at the Lodge, Julian scattered his Enforcers again. They would move in pairs; no one was to run alone. Their laws, their protocols, and their tactics played right into the Volchitsas hands. Everything their shadow enemy had done left the North American packs and their Enforcers reeling, and nothing they’d done had managed to inflict equal disaster.

Julian was damn tired of fighting a defensive war. Hadley’s message was the last on his list.

Wyoming clear. Montana next.

Short, concise, and to the point. The happy-go-lucky Enforcer was also his most succinct when it came to getting her information across. Another motion in the parking lot alerted him to a new arrival. This time, a woman strode toward her car, heavily laden with shopping bags from the mall across the street.

Not his target.

Leaning on the wall, Julian swept his gaze from the woman to the street then back. It was a long way from the mall to this paid parking. The vehicle she loaded with her items had a tag on the window for this lot. Maybe she worked in one of the nearby office buildings. After she pulled away, the parking lot was silent again. Only a half dozen cars remained from the fifty odd which had been there when he arrived.

Patience would endure.

Thirty minutes later, the sun setting and bathing the lot in a pink light, his fortitude paid off. The target appeared at the entrance. Moving on swift feet, the man moved more like a soldier, keeping his head on a swivel and his watchful, than a banker which was his occupation. Whether he knew someone was watching him, or guilt over his choices rode shotgun with him, Julian didn’t care.

As soon as his target got into the driver’s seat of his vehicle, Julian broke his cover and cleared the distance to the car. Sliding into the backseat, he jammed his fist against the seat, and the man in the front jerked.

“Stay in the car,” he ordered. Power laced his voice. Most wolves couldn’t stand up to him, the human in front of him urinated abruptly. Yeah, the human was not a match for him at all. “Start the vehicle and pull out.”

“If you want the car, you can have it…” Terror strained his voice. “Here, you can have my wallet, too. Just…please, don’t kill me.”

“Drive the car,” he repeated. By not accepting the premise of the question, he didn’t have to answer it.

“I—please don’t hurt me.” The whine grated.

“Drive.”

Despite his shaking hands, the man managed to get his keys in the ignition and the vehicle started. It jerked as he pulled forward, then jerked again as he hit the brakes. Julian gave him a moment to get it together, but didn’t remove the pressure of staring at him or keeping his fist in his back.

He’d never had much use for guns. The man in front of him didn’t have to know that. Once he pulled out into traffic, Julian only spoke to give him directions. As they neared the marina, his erstwhile driver began to balk.

“My name is Chris Tompkins. I’m 42 years old, I live in Redmond. I have a cat.” The litany rolled off his tongue, but Julian didn’t respond to Chris’s attempt to create an identity. If an assailant identified with a victim, they were less likely to hurt them. Smart psychology in most cases and interesting that Chris was aware of it.

When they arrived at the gate to the marina, Julian said, “Enter 7-3-5-5-2.”

Chris’s hand trembled as he pressed in the requested code. While he looked at the keypad, Julian reached forward and took possession of the man’s cell phone. Once he had it, he depressed the power button until the phone shut off. As the gates rolled open, Chris reached for his phone and then frowned.

Predictable.

“Pull in, then follow the row down to the parking for slip 21.”

The man released a choked sob and, from the stench of it, urinated again. If it weren’t so annoying, Julian might find a sliver of sympathy for his guest. Once he parked, Chris let out a harsh breath.

“Now what?”

Julian punched him in the back of the head. Chris sagged. Grateful for the silence, Julian exited the vehicle and scanned the area. One of the reasons he’d chosen this marina was the intermittent security, poor camera coverage, and the fact most of the slips were empty because their yacht owners were somewhere farther south.

Seeing no one, Julian tugged the smelly Chris out of the vehicle and tossed him over his shoulder. There was no shortage of dirty jobs he’d handled over the years. Not the first one to soil himself. Normally, Julian had another Enforcer on hand to deal with the mess.

One of the perks—making them do the crap jobs. He boarded the yacht then carried his burden down to the living quarters level. Opening the first door on the right, he dumped Chris unceremoniously onto the mattress on the floor. After locking his unwilling guest inside, Julian stripped off his soiled shirt, and stuffed it into a plastic bag, then into the airtight trash can before changing into a clean shirt and returning to the vehicle. Gathering all the items in the car, including Chris’ briefcase, deactivated phone and the keys, he locked the car and returned to the boat.

It was Friday. No one would notice the vehicle.

Onboard, he made ready to leave. The harbormaster had been notified earlier in the day he planned to sail by nightfall. No one would be looking for his boat either.

After retrieving a beer from the refrigerator, Julian settled in at the helm and engaged the engines. He’d navigated the sound as the last rays of the day sank into the ocean. Somewhere below, Chris had woken up and began hammering on his locked door.

Julian took a long drink.

Ignoring the man for now, he kept his attention on the horizon. He would be clear of the shipping lanes soon and out to open sea. Then he could turn south for a lovely night cruise. Finished with the beer, he dropped the bottle into the nearby can then pulled out his own phone.

Easily two dozen messages since he’d last glanced at it. Most he skimmed then ignored. The last one got his attention.

Dallas said meet her at the pier. You’d know which one.

A second message gave a date and a time.

Julian checked his watch.

Damn woman. Opening the throttle on the engine, he skipped the cruise notion and let the yacht open up. He had a date.

And no way in hell would he be late.

Not again.

Several decades earlier…

The new Lone Wolf in his territory irritated the hell out of him—nearly as much as she amused him. Normally, he met with the wolf as they arrived in their new location, gave them a solid beat down to understand who was in charge, then reiterated the laws they had to obey as long as they ran free of the packs. The method had worked for generations, just as an Enforcer trained him and he, in turn, trained other Enforcers.

Meeting a wolf whose dominance so equaled his own as to be immeasurable created a challenge he’d never experienced. Dallas Dalton intrigued him on multiple levels. Their discussion ended up being exactly that, a discussion then a debate. Trust, she’d reminded him, goes both ways. If he wanted her to listen to him, she needed to understand where he came from—which led to their spending an afternoon scouting a good spot for her to sleep after he told her it was illegal to camp on most of the beaches in the area.

Protests regarding changes the local city council wanted to make to the pier kept the area jammed with locals and tourists alike. Dallas hadn’t cared for the noise, so Julian found himself suggesting she head farther north toward Malibu and the state parks which allowed beach camping. He hadn’t had to tell her twice. When she would have hiked it, he invited her onto his bike.

Another mistake, because she’d taken one look at the engine and motor then asked him a dozen questions and elicited his agreement to help her find one of her own. It would let her be mobile. California weather meant sleeping on the beach would be more than comfortable for the wolf, but it did rain and when the Santa Ana winds blew, it could create other problems.

Her response? A snort and a laugh. She’d grown up in New York where the snow could be as high as her ass. A little wind didn’t scare her.

Having grown up in both the Yukon and parts of Minnesota and Wisconsin, Julian knew all about the snow. Another reason he enjoyed being the senior Enforcer for the west coast. Leaning his bike into the curve, he followed the Pacific Coast Highway toward the state park. It hadn’t even been a week since he’d last seen her, but here he was making a drive by.

It’s because she’s camping with all the hippies. Free love and free drugs might look attractive, but she’s still a kid. Not even eighteen, another surprise. She graduated high school early and told him she intended her university experience to be what life offered her. Nothing about Dallas Dalton followed expectation. Spotting his cut off, he swung into the lot nearest her beach and slid into a parking spot next to a second bike. It was a little smaller than his, a little more weathered, but it didn’t leak fluids and the tires appeared solid. Tugging a small paper sack from one of his bike’s saddlebags, he debated whether it was a good idea to bring her a gift. Supplies were helpful, but they might send the wrong message.

Switching his attention to the beach, he scanned the handful of tents scattered around the area. They were spread far enough apart to offer relative privacy. The goal of his visit sat in a foldout plastic chair on the northern side of the beach, a small tent pitched to her right, and a cold fire pit in front of her. She stared out at the waves…with a pair of binoculars?

The odd item didn’t resolve into a camera until he was halfway to her position. The wind shifted, and she twisted in her chair to stare at him. That first day, she’d worn her hair in a tight braid, and it hid the color from him. Today, it was loose and fell in long waves past her shoulders. The sunlight played with her thick black hair, revealing streaks of red.

“Surprise,” he said. The greeting was weak, but it was the first word to come to mind.

“It is a surprise. I didn’t think I’d have to see you for a few months.” The statement held no animosity, merely a different flavor of her wit.

“You should expect I could drop in any day,” he said, reaching her camp. Not seeing a second chair, he dropped into a seated position on the sand next to her. The movement left his head lower than hers, but he ignored the suggestion of submission. He didn’t need physical posturing to prove anything. “I also brought you a gift. You shouldn’t expect one on every visit.”

“Dude, you have weird rules.” Setting her camera on her lap, she took the paper bag with no small amount of eagerness. Instead of opening it, she shook it and listened. Then her nostrils flared. “It doesn’t rattle, and it doesn’t smell sweet. So not candy or flowers. You need to work on your cool cat game.”

Julian snorted.

Opening the bag, she peered inside then began to laugh. Pulling out a small package of toilet paper she stared at him, amusement glittering within her deep brown eyes. Framed by thick, dark lashes, her eyes elevated her from a good-looking woman to stunning. Her oval shaped face with fine bone structure added an element of fragility. Yet, he’d never met a less fragile being than one sitting there holding a brown-wrapped roll of toilet paper in delight.

“You take my breath away,” she admitted, and he grunted. The gratitude she displayed for such a minor indulgence warmed him.

“It’s TP. You want to sleep on a beach and use the local public facilities, it’s better to be prepared.” The sunshine heated him enough, he didn’t need her grinning at him.

“Pfft, I still think it’s sweet. Maybe you have some hidden depths I haven’t plumbed.” After dropping the toilet paper back into the bag and reclaiming her camera, she rose and tucked the bag away in her tent as though storing a precious treasure. “Do me a favor, and walk down by the water…”

“What?” He should have asked why, but the request caught him off guard.

She waved her camera. “You’ve got great hair and the sun is doing wonderful things for the color. I want to see what it looks like against the backdrop of blue ocean.”

The water wasn’t really blue, it held more of a gray cast to it. “I don’t really need my picture taken.”

“Aww, poor baby. Are you afraid of a little camera?” She waved the brand new 35-millimeter at him. It was an expensive device, and probably the priciest thing in her possession. “I promise, it doesn’t steal your soul.”

Clamping his jaw tight, he kept his growl in check. He wasn’t an obstinate youth and he had zero desire to let her bait him into a reaction. “I’m not an idiot. I know photos don’t steal souls.”

“Great, so now lift that perfect ass of yours off the sand and walk down to the water for me,” she said, then she canted her head and blinked those long, sweet lashes at him. “Please? One picture. You can even give me your lecture on behavioral expectations after.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in spite of his irritation. The woman was impossible. “I expect your attention for the entirety of the discussion.” Rising, he paused to give her a firm look. If agreement to her innocent request meant he could get back to the business at hand and follow protocol, then he saw no harm. After dusting off the sand on his jeans, he headed for the water line.

“Walk like you mean it.” She called after him. “Put a little shake in your stride.”

Halting, he twisted to glare at her and the shutter on her camera snapped away.

“Perfect. You can snarl if you want. Or grin. You have good teeth.” The snappy response pulled a laugh from him. Impossible didn’t begin to cover her. Not even close

Shaking his head, he turned and continued his trek to the water. Near the edge, he folded his arms and stared out at the sea. The wind pushed at him from behind. Ahead of him, the water sprawled out to the horizon—endless, mysterious, and impossible to comprehend.

The water called to his wolf like little else did these days. He’d roamed for decades, first as a Lone Wolf, then as an Enforcer, now as a senior Enforcer. At his current rank, he chose the territory he patrolled and he’d chosen the west coast because of the ocean.

He’d climbed mountains, raced through the trees of thick forests, and hunted the open prairie…nothing compared to his passion for the sea. Maybe he should invest in a boat, he had a house on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It had a treacherous path to access the beach. He knew it like the back of his hand, and could make the climb easily on two legs or four.

It wasn’t the same as a boat on the open sea.

The wind shifted directions. It was barely perceptible, but it tossed the brine of the sea toward him before he tasted wildflowers and woods. Dallas’ scent arrived a beat before she did. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

“She’s an unforgiving master,” he said, agreeing. “Never be fooled by her beauty. Riptides and catastrophe lurk beneath the waves.”

“That’s why it’s magnificent. You have to respect the strength to be able to really appreciate it. I always wanted to visit the ocean, and now that I’m here, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

A feeling he could appreciate. Struck by the similarity of their sentiment, he held out his hand. “Give me your camera, please.”

Surprise rippled over her, but she passed him the camera without argument. “Stay here,” he said, then he retreated to where she’d stood when she took her photographs. As soon as he raised the camera, he adjusted the focus to her back. She stared into the distance, the wind toying with her hair. He snapped one shot, then softened the focus until she blended against the sea, a siren of the deep come to land.

The poetry wasn’t like him, but he liked the image. After his third shot, she whipped around in a circle, her arms spread wide as she spun. Accepting the invitation, he took another couple of shots and then the camera made a hard-whirring noise and he pulled away from it.

Had he damaged her toy?

“End of the film roll,” she called, skipping up from the waves. Dressed in shorts and a tank top, she glowed beneath the sun and treated him to the vision of her shapely muscles. “I still have to find a place to develop them. I filled another roll over the last few days. I think my grandmother was right. I need to document every part of my roam…”

“Is that what this is? And do you have enough clothes to be cutting the legs off your jeans?”

“No, but I’ll find a job soon. There’s a lot of shops along the beach hiring. Maybe I’ll learn to surf, then I can teach people.” The absolute certainty in her tone held not an ounce of doubt about the possibility of her success. Strangely enough, he believed her.

“I can loan you some money…”

“No,” she said, cutting her hand through the air before reclaiming her camera. “I can take care of myself. I have the money I saved for the last couple of years, I have the perfect camping spot. I even bought a used bike a couple of days ago. It was a lot cheaper than I expected.” Good cheer elevated her tone. “Some of my neighbors actually fish, and they share their extra. It’s been pretty perfect out here.”

On the one hand, he was happy for her. Yet, her very success defined not needing his intervention.

After securing her camera, she dropped back to sit in her chair and stretched out her legs. “I’ll need to find a second one of these.” She shaded her eyes as she glanced at him. “Especially if you plan to keep dropping by.”

“I’ll bring one,” he told her. “Save your money for you.” Until then, he could sit in the sand. Dropping back into a comfortable position, he studied her. “Ready for your lecture?”

With a playful roll of her eyes, she spread her hands. “I’m all yours.”