But the monster that emerged from the shadows of the underbrush was bigger than the one Charles was following. It looked almost like a German shepherd, except that it weighed a hundred pounds more, had longer teeth, and moved more like a cat than a dog.
There were two werewolves.
What if there were more of them? What if Charles had gone off to hunt one wolf and found himself surrounded?
The werewolf ignored the other woman, focusing completely on Anna. As it leaped forward, Anna ran, too. The snowshoes didn't help, but she didn't have to go far-and she was a werewolf, too.
Three strides and she snatched Charles's broken rifle off the ground by the barrel. Planting both feet, she swung it at the attacking monster with the experience of four summers of softball and the strength of a werewolf.
It was clear the other wolf hadn't expected Anna's strength. It hadn't bothered to dodge her strike at all. No one was ever going to fire the rifle again, but Anna hit the wolf full on the shoulder with a crack that told her she'd broken bone. It rolled with the blow, but let out a yip of pain as it came back to all four feet.
Something sizzled past Anna, and the wolf yelped again as blood blossomed on one hip. A small rock fell to the ground. The wolf looked over Anna's shoulder, then, with a last growl, it took off through the trees. Anna didn't try to follow it, but she kept her eyes on the woods where the shepherd-colored wolf had disappeared.
"Are you all right, honey?"
The sound of Charles's cautious voice made her head spin with sheer relief. She'd hoped that it had been him who'd thrown the rock, but it might have been Mary's missing partner, too. She dropped the remains of the rifle on the ground and ran to him.
"Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "It was only a dog-a damned big dog. But you're fine now." Though he was clearly playing to the human, his arms were fiercely protective as he pulled her against his coat-which was a dark red that suited him better than the brightly colored coat the wolf had ripped up.
It was a good thing, she thought, that he could clothe himself when he changed. Otherwise, they'd have something of a problem explaining why he'd been running after a bear in his birthday suit.
"That was some stone throwing," she murmured to him, stifling an inappropriate giggle.
She'd done it, she thought. She'd defended herself against a monster and won. Safe in Charles's arms, exhilaration rapidly eclipsed everything else she'd been feeling. She had not only kept it from hurting her, but she'd defended someone else, too.
"Old skills," he told her. "My uncles taught me when I was growing up. I can do better with a slingshot. Any distance weapon is better than trying to drive off a ravening beast with a broken rifle. Who's your friend?"
She took a last sniffly breath, and then stepped away from his warmth. The woman was crouched, wide-eyed, with her back against a tree. "Mary, this is my husband, Charles. Charles, this is Mary..."
"Alvarado," said the woman in a shaken voice. "Madre de Dios, what was that?"
Anna obviously believed the woman was nothing more than a fellow hiker. Anna's blood stained her jacket-but it looked like it had only been a nosebleed, probably caused by the altitude. Charles brushed Anna's face with his hand and let what Samuel called his "Good Ol' Injun" expression take over.
Samuel always said it was scary seeing the jovial expression and knowing what lurked behind it-but most people weren't as perceptive as his brother.
"Pleased to meet you." Charles let his grin reach his eyes until they lit up as he looked at the woman.
She was bundled up against the cold, so he couldn't get a good look at her-but that didn't matter. His memory for scent was better than faces, and his nose told him he'd never seen her before.
He kept in mind that there were two werewolves somewhere nearby, but he'd deal with the monster at hand first.
He let go of his mate and took two long strides forward, two strides that not so incidentally put him between Anna and the woman. "I'm sorry I was out chasing that-" He could have cursed his distraction-he didn't want to admit to chasing after a werewolf at this juncture. Not that the woman wouldn't know what it was that he and Anna had driven off, but if she didn't already know that he and Anna were werewolves, too, he didn't want her to figure it out. And if she did, well, then he didn't want her to know that he knew that she was something preternatural-one that used magic. He'd give her as little information as he could manage. So he stopped midword, but before the pause was very long Anna finished his sentence for him.
"-that stupid bear." Anna gave him a chiding glance as if she thought he paused because he had almost sworn. He hadn't expected that she'd be so quick. "Did you find the pack with our lighter?"
Was that what he was supposed to be doing? He shook his head. "You know what they say about not being about to outrun a bear? They're right. Especially since it tore up my snowshoes, and I had to wade through the snow."
That wolf had been as clever a prey as he'd ever chased. He hadn't heard it or seen it before it attacked, and it had disappeared as thoroughly as if it had never been. He might be persuaded that Anna had distracted him so he hadn't heard it approach-though nothing like that had ever happened to him before. But there had definitely been something uncanny about the way the wolf disappeared.
As soon as he realized he'd lost the trail, Charles hadn't wasted time trying to pick it up again. He headed back, not wanting to chance the wolf swinging back to attack Anna. So he'd given up for the moment and returned-just in time, as it turned out.
Mary Alvarado straightened, then stumbled forward, as if she'd lost her balance. The move left her just in front of him, resting a hand on his chest. He felt the weave of her spell as it slid off his protections.
The scent of Anna's fury all but lit up the forest-was she jealous? This was far too dangerous a situation to let himself get distracted...but, didn't Anna know he wasn't interested in anyone but her?
"There shouldn't be bear up here this late in the year," said the woman, sounding shaken. He couldn't decide if she knew what he was or not.
"Bears don't sleep straight through the winter, ma'am," Charles said, looking down at her as if he didn't mind her hand on his chest, which he did. Would have minded even if she didn't make his skin crawl. Not fae, he decided. Not a spirit or ghoul-both of those he'd met up here a time or two. Something human. Not a sorcerer, either, though his wolf reacted to her that way; something evil then. "They don't go into a true hibernation. They'll get up now and then. It isn't usual, but you'll see 'em sometimes even in the dead of winter. Our bad luck we ran into one. But that dog that attacked you two was really strange."