Page 70 of Wolf's Mark

She was trying to hand me an envelope. If I was in my right mind, I would tell her to shove it, but she was really scared.

I snapped it from her hand, but continued heading to my vehicle. I had my keys in my hand long before I made it to the car.

Why were my hands shaking to the point I almost dropped the keyring? Did I seriously believe any of this crap? I finally hopped in and had my engine running and almost flooded seconds later.

The sharp rap on my window was enough to force a sharp cry. I slapped my hand against my heart and hissed. The damn agent had followed me outside.

I wasn’t going to bother pressing the window button but the strange glow from the Waffle House sign provided a horrible, shattered look on her face.

“What?” I demanded.

“The two guards who removed the body?”

Was that a real question? “Yes? What about them?”

“A 9-1-1 call was placed. A cop was close by. The van is wrecked, on its side. The body is gone.”

“And the two guards?”

“Mutilated.”

Well, shit.

The timing of human death to shift was increasing. It was only a matter of time before eliminating the dead wouldn’t be an option.

Dear God. I was buying into this insanity.

“Doctor. I’d be very careful. I learned one of the first agents assigned to the first murders in upper Chicago was found dead, also mutilated. His family was killed too.”

“Mutilated as in now they’re…” Oh, my God. I was buying into the werewolf thing a little too much.

“No. It was a revenge kill. Just be careful.”

Yeah. Careful was my middle name.

She backed away without saying anything else, but I sensed she would be leaving the FBI soon. Before I pulled out, I glanced down at the envelope I’d tossed onto my passenger seat. Once again, my curiosity might get me killed eventually. But I opened it.

And wished I hadn’t.

CHAPTER 19

Jax

A horrific stench.

Most humans wouldn’t be able to detect the typical scent of a wolf. They certainly had no realization if they were being stalked by one. They were pleasantly protected until wandering close to a beast’s den or near newborn cubs.

The typical wolf had no interest in humans, certainly not for food. While they didn’t like to feel threatened, they enjoyed their life, their keen senses allowing them to feel protected.

Wolfen were similar in nature. Our senses were especially keen, able to detect our kind several hundred yards away. We could see in the dark, perform acts of strength that were only typically seen in the movies, and could run faster than a typical human male.

Tonight wasn’t about detecting a family of Wolfen happily enjoying their lives in their nice homes with large screentelevisions, maybe preparing their children for bed for a busy school day.

This night was about a hunting mission to try to discover any clues as to whether my mother and the council were correct in their heightened level of anxiety.

When I was younger, I used to allow my wolf to come out for no other reason than to run harder and faster than any humans ever could. Pain hadn’t been an issue then as I’d shifted often enough, savoring every moment of becoming nothing more than claws and canines. It had never been about the hunt then, just the freedom my wolf allowed me.

It seemed with every passing hour my wolf was more eager to come out to play.

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