Slipping the case into her backpack, she zipped it up, and put it on her back, the straps over her shoulders.

She walked around the desk and Jackie frowned, stopping her in her tracks. If she found out Irene still had some of that stuff remaining, Jackie would nail her butt to the wall.

“What?” Irene asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“When did you start wearing jeans and T-shirts to work?”

Irene barely stopped herself from letting out that relieved sigh. “When I keep waking up too late to do more than shower and toss on these clothes. Funny, my students appear much less threatened by my attire, so I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Together, the females walked out of the building and down the steps while Jackie told Irene about how Paul had accidentally set the kitchen on fire.

“I swear, sometimes I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Jackie said again.

“He’s probably so wrapped up in your pussy, he can’t think straight.”

It took Irene a good minute to realize she walked alone.

Turning around, she found her friend sitting on the stairs. “What?”

“I was just wondering where my best friend went.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Making jokes is one thing, but using the word ‘pussy’ is something else. For you, anyway.”

“Oh. That. Well, ‘vagina’ seemed a tad clinical when discussing why your mate is currently so dysfunctional.”

Shaking her head, Jackie deftly got to her feet. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“Didn’t see what?”

Jackie walked down the remaining stairs. “I mean, I knew you’d fall for him. You two are so perfectly mismatched, how could you not fall for each other?” She stopped in front of Irene. “But I never thought he’d make you happy. Not like this anyway. And he does, doesn’t he, Irene? Make you happy?”

Irene shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess he does. He isn’t . . . uncomfortable with me. Even when he doesn’t understand a word I may have said, he never looks uncomfortable.” She gripped the straps to her backpack. “I have to say I’m enjoying that.”

Jack linked her arm with Irene’s. “Good. You deserve to be happy, sweetie. Now what about his Pack?”

“They look frightened and I have absolutely no idea why. I’m nothing but appropriately pleasant.”

“Price you pay as the new Alpha Female.”

“I understand all that, but running from the room every time I walk in seems a tad harsh, wouldn’t you say?”

“You do have a point.”

Irene spotted Jack’s bright red Mercedes-Benz but held her friend back before she could head towardit, her eyes locking on the black four-door with dark windows parked right in front of it.

Jackie sniffed the air. “Irene, I smell ti—”

“Hi, Dr. Conridge.”

Irene glanced over her shoulder and carefully pulled her arm from Jackie’s. “Oh. Hello, Jenny.” She turned to face the woman completely. “Do you need help with something?”

The corn-fed Iowan gave that bright smile Irene hated. “You know what I need, don’t ya, professor?”

Irene nodded. “Of course, I do.” She stepped toward the woman and let her take firm hold of her arm while three men, trained killers by the look of them, stepped out of the car and walked toward them. “I have to admit, though, I always thought it was Mark.”

Jenny laughed. “Not nearly smart enough, that one. I’ve got her,” Jenny said in Russian and motioned behind Irene with her head. “Kill her friend.”

Reaching for his gun, one of the men turned but immediately froze. “Where is she?”

Irene didn’t dare show any emotion. She simply stared straight ahead.

“Forget her.” Jenny pushed Irene toward the car. “You’re not going to give us any trouble, are you, Professor?”

Resting her hand against the car door, Irene turned back to Jenny Fairgrove, all-American girl. “Why would I do that?” she flatly asked. “We both know my only emotional investment is in my creations.” She smirked. “For the right price, anyone can have me.”

With a smile, Jenny followed Irene into the car. “Good to know, professor. Because I think you’ll find our people quite accommodating.”

Van went out on the back porch and stared out at the woods. He felt unsettled and had no idea why, but he did know he didn’t like it. His fangs slid out of his gums and his vision changed from that of a human’s to a wolf’s. He watched restless wolves roam Van Holtz territory and he knew the rest of the Pack felt it too. Something wasn’t right. In fact, something was horribly wrong. They just didn’t know what yet.

His sister walked out on the porch and stood next to him.

“Any word from Irene?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“Jackie?”

“No.”

Van stepped down the stairs, Carrie right beside him.

“What do you need us to do?”

He glanced down at her and said, “I need—”

The distinct, high-pitched howl stopped every wolf in a ten-mile vicinity. It wasn’t a wolf howl. It was jackal.

He didn’t even realize he’d shifted until he looked down and saw his four paws tearing through the darkness, heading for that howl, his Pack right behind him.