At midmorning the Olde Town annex of the Riverdale PD buzzed with cops in uniform and citizens streaming into the information area. Once housing the entire police force, before the new downtown law center was built, the annex still held a full complement of units. This morning’s civilian visitors were a mixture of witnesses meeting with detectives for on-going cases, people inquiring about friends or relatives incarcerated overnight, and minor offenders looking for the right place to post bail and pay fines. Ari by-passed it all and headed straight for Ryan’s office on the third floor.

The thirty-four-year-old ex-Marine looked out of place hunched over his keyboard, clicking away furiously. Even for supervisors, police reports never seemed to end. Ryan Foster was the senior member in charge of the Inter-Community Division (ICD) that handled the PD’s end of human-Otherworld conflicts. Ari’s bosses, the Magic Council, held exclusive jurisdiction over Otherworlders, except when both communities were involved. Joint jurisdiction meant Ryan and Ari worked together as equals, and both of them were fine with that—except for a few philosophical glitches. Ari abhorred rules; Ryan lived by them.

“What brings you out so bright and early?” Ryan’s blue eyes crinkled in welcome as he automatically picked up the phone and called for an extra cup of coffee. Black, no cream or sugar. Ari was addicted to caffeine; Ryan enabled her habit.

“Things have been pretty quiet. Can’t a gal drop in to say hello?”

“It’s been a while since you’ve done that without being on a case.” The cop leaned back in his chair and eyed her with speculation. “How is Andreas?”

No subtlety there. The comfortable relationship she’d shared with Ryan had changed when she’d become seriously involved with Andreas. Nothing big she could put her finger on. They certainly weren’t unfriendly, but Ryan was almost wary around her. It was clear he didn’t approve of her boyfriend choice, but hell, she didn’t hold that against him; sometimes she wasn’t sure she approved either. Vampires and witches were a volatile combination.

Since she wasn’t there to discuss Andreas or the ups and downs of that relationship, she kept her answer short. “He’s fine. We’re fine, but I’m here because of Steffan. He thinks we have trouble brewing.”

Ryan leaned forward over his desk. “Why? What’s happened?”

The door opened, and Ari waited until the balding, male clerk delivered the coffee. As soon as the door closed, she answered his question. “There’s a new wolf pack in town.”

“I assume we’re talking werewolves, not the kind I could let Animal Control handle.” When she rolled her eyes, Ryan added with obvious resignation, “Toronto again? Doesn’t that guy ever give up?” Being cops, their minds often thought alike, but being suspicious of Sebastian was a no brainer.

“Can’t say for sure, but Steffan’s worried history could repeat itself. He hunted us down last night to pass on the warning.”

“Based on what? Have they done something?”

“Violated wolf protocols. Just like last time.” She repeated what Steffan had told them. “He seemed pretty up-tight, but he admitted there’d also been some clan trouble, something he didn’t want to talk about it.” She lifted a dismissive shoulder. “His business, I guess.”

“Frankly, it doesn’t sound like you have much.” Ryan rocked back in his chair.

“And you sound like a skeptical cop. This is a trusted friend we’re discussing. Steffan is worried, and that’s good enough for me.”

“If I was just a skeptical cop, I’d say you’ve got nothing, and our discussion would be over.” Ryan ran a hand through his light, curly hair, a characteristic sign of frustration. “But, we’re talking about werewolves, and Steffan should smell trouble faster than anyone.” He heaved a long sigh for her benefit. “Can’t the Otherworld stay quiet for more than a few months at a time?”

“If it did, you and I would be out of a job. But cheer up, nothing’s happened yet.”

“I don’t like the way you said that, like you’re hoping it changes.”

“You know me, I get bored easily,” she said, leaning back and crossing her jeans-clad legs.

“I wonder if I do,” Ryan said. “Know you, I mean,” he added in response to her quick frown. “You’ve changed in the last three months.”

Ari’s throat tightened. Uh-oh, here it comes. She didn’t like the sound of this. “Don’t get started,” she warned. “I know how you feel about Andreas, but—”

“It’s not Andreas,” he interrupted. “It’s you and Andreas…together. He’s OK, for a vampire. I’ve got nothing against him personally, and he’s helped the department twice now. But dating him?” He studied her face. “I thought you and I were on the same page with this.”

“You just don’t know him. He’s a lot different than I expected.” Ari paused, searching for a way to explain it. She’d grown up with the normal wariness toward vampires. They were no longer human—were in fact often accused of being devil’s spawn. Their unique need for blood to survive set them apart from other species, making their behaviors, beliefs, and emotional capacity a mystery. Trust had not come easily. She still struggled to understand the magical link she shared with Andreas, and the control issues involved were downright scary. It was complicated, and she couldn’t explain her feelings to herself, much less someone else.

She didn’t try. “This is getting us nowhere. Can we just drop the subject?” She gave him a fixed stare.

Huffing with impatience, Ryan leaned back. “I just don’t like it. I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt by expecting something he can’t deliver. OK, I’ll quit. But if you ever do want to talk, I’m here.”

She gave a brief nod, but it wouldn’t happen. What she shared with Andreas was private, too private to discuss with Ryan.

He threw down a paperclip he’d been playing with for the last five minutes. “So what do we do about these damned wolves?” he asked, reverting to the hard-nosed cop.

“Wait until they tell us why they’re here.”

“Cute, Ari.” He crossed his arms. “Do you have a serious answer to go with the comedy?”

Huh. Still grumpy. She resisted saying so. “I was serious. As you pointed out, we don’t know much. Until they surface and do something, we wait. And we hope that Steffan is wrong.”

Chapter Two

Yeah, waiting was a good idea, but not something programmed into her DNA. On patrol that evening, Ari started looking for the wolves or at least for some answers. She searched Olde Town for any sighting of the strange pack and listened to community chatter. Nobody had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. In fact, she finished her patrol of the bar and club districts in record time. It all seemed quiet tonight. The Second Chance Saloon had its normal evening fight, but nothing the bouncers couldn’t handle.

Entering Goshen Park, Ari paid special attention to the paths and open clearings where she might spot the wolves out for a run. She paused to scan a heavily wooded area, sniffed the air, and moved on. No musky scent of werewolf. The air was nippy, smelled clean and increasingly cool. It would snow within the next month. Heavy black clouds drew jagged lines across the moon. It fit her mood. She’d been reviewing her morning discussion with Ryan. In some ways he acted jealous. Not a boy-girl thing so much as a best friend thing, like he felt replaced by Andreas. Although she’d love to find a way to ease the tension, nothing had come to mind.

She’d covered most of Goshen Park, but Andreas hadn’t turned up as promised. The court meeting with Prince Daron must be running long. A twinge of disappointment nagged at her. Not only for the obvious reasons, but she itched for a return match of wits and skills during another training session. One of these nights she intended to really impress him.

Nearing the park gate, Ari whirled at the rustle of pine needles. A sudden spike in her witch senses flooded her system with adrenaline, but before she could do more than register the smell of lukos anthropos, the first werewolf slammed its head into her legs. Her leap into the air was a second too late to avoid the impact entirely. Although the wolf skidded under her, she was knocked off balance and landed hard on her knees. She yanked the silver dagger from her waist sheath, but three more wolves, yipping and growling, leaped onto her back. Toppled forward by their combined weight, she landed with her knife arm pinned under her body. Ari was in trouble.

She jerked her head back hard, smashing the face of one of her attackers. The wolf grunted, snarling, but pulling back, shaking its head. She caught another wolf with the heel of her foot in a backward kick and rolled to one side far enough to free her dagger. She sliced the blade across the chest of the gray wolf straddling her side; the creature sank his teeth into her knife hand. Sharp pain shot up her arm, tearing a scream from her throat. Ari smelled blood—her blood—and knew the wolves did too. If she didn’t break free soon, it would be a short fight.

Amid the deafening sounds of snarling and growling wolves, she bucked, kicked and twisted with a strength born of desperation. Momentarily rolling free, she flipped to her feet, and brought up her hands to use witch fire. Claws slashed the back of her legs, catching and ripping her jeans, pulling her off balance. Ari stumbled, spun away to avoid going down, and fired a blue-flamed stunner, sidestepping another set of deadly claws. She bled steadily now. The sweet aroma filled the air and would soon trigger a feeding frenzy in the pack.

Turning in time to see a black wolf leap toward her, she backed away, shooting lethal witch fire from her fingertips. The crimson arc caught the wolf in mid-flight. Howling, he burst into flames. Other claws dragged her down from behind, and a second attacker’s needle-sharp fangs reached for her throat. She punched him in the nose with a hard jab. Blood spurted and the wolf pulled back, only to be replaced by another looming over her. The second attacker suddenly released her and was ripped away.