"What works for wolves doesn't always work for werewolves. To your average mutt, I'd be making you my co-Alpha for the sake of marital harmony, not martial strategy, which wouldn't reflect well on either of us. Werewolves have an Alpha. One wolf to rule them all. And that wolf will be you."

I stared out at a boglike area with skeletal trees, a wasteland surrounded by lush forest.

"But you'd be happier about the promotion if you had more com petition."

I turned to him. "What?"

"It wasn't much of an Alpha race, and everyone knows it. Antonio would be good, but he's even older than Jeremy and he has a business to run. Nick and Karl are out of the question. I don't want the job. A victory by default isn't nearly so sweet."

"You think I'm put out by the lack of competition? Please. I-" At his look, I sighed and brushed my ponytail off my shoulder. "Okay, yes, it would be a lot more flattering if I wasn't the only choice."

"But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?" He glanced over, gaze boring into the side of my head, as if he could read my thoughts. "Is it another worry about becoming Alpha? Or something else?"

I shrugged. "It's nothing important."

"Never is. It's, both, isn't it? Something to do with becoming Alpha and something separate. What else happened while I was gone?"

The words were on the tip of my tongue. I got a letter from one of the men-

Not now. Not yet.

"It's nothing-Wait. You missed the road."

He hit the brakes and reversed. "You were saying?"

"Later. We're almost there." I glanced over my shoulder at the narrow black trail that passed for a road. "And this is going to take some navigating."

WE SOON UNDERSTOOD why Charles had laughed when I asked for an address for Dennis's cabin. This was no lakeside cottage in Muskoka, down a pleasant winding lane lined with signs welcoming you to "The Grangers' Getaway."

We turned onto the trail, then onto another, then another, each one getting successively narrower until branches scraped both sides of the SUV. Then the road ended.

We got out and peered into the night. After a couple of minutes we found a trail. A dozen feet down it, there was a cinder-block shed with a wide door, massive padlock and Private sign. The area stank of mixed gas and oil. Boot marks led to the door, and snowmobile tracks led away.

"This must be where they leave their snowmobiles and ride in." I bent and sniffed. "Human, but I think I detect faint werewolf. An older trail."

Clay crouched and inhaled deeply. "Yeah, that's Dennis."

We followed the snowmobile tracks through knee-deep snow. As wolves, we'd move easier, but it wasn't worth the agony of the Change for a half-mile trek. Then there was the problem of showing up at Dennis's cabin naked.

The trail branched several times. The snowmobile tracks led down the second one, presumably to another cabin. I kept an eye on the GPS and took the first branch leading in the right direction.

The snow was thicker here, with no signs that anyone had passed this way since the last snowfall. We'd gone about fifty feet before I caught a smell that made me stop.

Clay inhaled. "Wolf."

Under my thick down jacket, goose bumps rose in a mix of excitement and trepidation. Wolves fascinate most werewolves. We feel the pull of kinship. Unfortunately, the wolves don't feel the same way.

Our blended smell of human and canine confuses them. They don't know what we are, so it's safest to assume we're a threat.

Clay and I had encountered wolves once before in Algonquin Park. They'd started to attack, then they'd decided we smelled too human for their liking, and run.

After that, if we went anyplace known as wolf territory, we steered clear of their trails. Here that wasn't possible.

"They're all over," I said as we walked. "It's a big pack, at least eight or nine wolves, I bet. The tracks are recent, too."

"I don't smell any on the wind, though."

"Me neither, which hopefully means they're far away." Not surprising-wolves tended to travel more in winter as they searched for food.

"Didn't those cops say a pack lived where they found that guy this morning?"

I rubbed my icy nose. "They said there'd been one, but it moved on. Maybe because of the mutts. We should find out when the pack left. That might give us some idea when our mutts arrived. I got the feeling it was recently."

We moved into a denser area of woods and the light all but disappeared. While our general vision was slightly better as humans, our night vision suffered. I slowed, paying more attention to where I put my feet. I still stumbled over a branch under the snow. Clay caught my arm.

"I should have brought a flashlight," I said.

"We're almost there. I see a light."

I followed his gaze to see several bluish lights twinkling through the trees.

I checked the GPS. "Either Charles got the coordinates wrong or that's another cabin. According to this, we have almost a quarter mile to go that way." I pointed.

"We'll check it out."

To head toward the lights, we had to leave the path. As we drew closer, the lights dimmed, but I could still see them, blue spots against the darkness just ahead.

We stepped from the trees.

"Huh," Clay said.

We stood at the edge of a clearing with no cabin… and no lights.

"Ghost lights? We should have brought Jaime."

I meant it lightly, but my voice wavered. As I looked around, every hair on my body rose.

"Do you feel that?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Something's out there. Wolves?"

"Maybe."

It wasn't wolves. We both knew it. Both felt it. Clay's taut face turned my way, gaze scanning the trees.

"You sense trouble?" he asked.

"I don't think so." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Let's find that trail again."

UNNATURAL

THE MOON APPEARED then, lighting our way back to the trail. Even through the trees, it cast enough of a glow for us to follow. The wolf tracks continued as we drew closer to our destination. When I caught another whiff of scent, I stopped.

"Werewolf. Probably Dennis."