That’s not to say Z hadn’t done his fair share of screwing with people’s heads or diverting them from what they were focused on. Those out to attack the Tao Pack while they were still unable to completely defend themselves were treated to a good mind-fuck. And like most Infiltrators, Z could always find the loopholes in any code of law but one—if someone was in trouble, he would be the first to step in and help; however, in matters of pack affairs where the Alpha required being taken out, he could do nothing. That code had no loophole and met with swift and absolute punishment.
“I have another job if you want it.”
“I have nothing else pressing at the moment.” Z’s pack wanted him to check-in in person, but that could wait another few weeks. If anything critical happened, they would have told him when he’d checked in via phone earlier in the week. Although, he really would have preferred to take a week off to sleep.
“I still can’t afford to pay you.”
“I have not asked for anything but a room.” Which he’d paid for, but Drew didn’t know that. He, at least, could feel he’d paid Z that much. “Besides, one day I might ask a favor.”
Drew pulled a file from his desk drawer. “A week ago I had a visit from a Ripley Greystone of the Greystone Pack.”
“Greystone?” There were few packs Z’s kind didn’t have knowledge of. “I have never heard of them.”
“Neither had I.” Drew pushed an eight-by-ten profile picture of a blonde woman toward him. “She came to me, seeking protection for her pack.”
Z jerked his head in the direction of the Enforcer. “Seems more his area than mine.”
“Normally, yes. But when a beautiful woman, very beautiful, and physically strong comes seeking help from a pack still rebuilding, my hackles go up.”
“Strong how?” Z glanced from the file folder before him.
“She’s one of the strongest women I have seen. I observed her help one of our pack. She lifted a rock that would have taken two of our males to raise then placed it under the wheel of a wagon as if it were nothing.”
“So, why would a beta this tough be in need of protection?”
“Exactly. If the betas were that strong, what must their dominants or Alpha be like? And why send a woman to do your dirty work?”
“Suspicious.”
“Gee has nothing to say on the subject or the pack except he thought they had died out decades ago.”
“So you fear this might be a way to divide your resources.”
Ryker sneered. “Or infiltrate our town.”
Z surveyed the picture again. She didn’t have the appearance of a muscular beast, but her beauty made him pause. “How big is the pack?”
“She wouldn’t say, so no idea, and she wouldn’t say why she sought out our protection either.”
“Were you supposed to take her at her word?”
“Apparently.” Drew tapped his desk. “I told her without more information I couldn’t be of help. She seemed to accept it, even thanked me for my time, but as she turned, I saw her despair. In that moment, a wave of her hopelessness crashed over me, and something else, too.”
“What else?” Z fought the urge to look over the picture again. He’d never taken a second glance at a target before, and he didn’t want to draw attention to his odd attraction to the woman in a photo or give in to the bizarre urge to stroke the black-and-white image of her face.
“Fear.” Drew stood and walked to the small window that faced out to the main street. “Her fear grabbed me and has gnawed at me since she left. I can’t sleep until I know this woman isn’t in a situation my pack once faced. I left my mate to the misery of one crazed man. I can’t leave another female that way.”
“No matter what I find, I can’t take out their Alpha.”
“And I’m not asking that of you.” Drew turned to Z. “Tell me what’s going on, so I can make a more informed decision.”
“I’ll leave in the morning.”
“Check with Gee. He might give you some information.”
“I thought you said he didn’t tell you anything.”
“He didn’t, but I’m not an Infiltrator, and I do not have whatever secret weapon you seem to have in your arsenal. Care to share what that secret is?”
“Not on your life, Alpha.” Standing to exit, Z patted the Enforcer’s shoulder. “Always good chatting with you, Ryker. Drew, you will know something when I do.”
Once outside the barn, Z located a signal for his cell phone—not always easy in the isolated town. Opening his pack’s secure search engine, he searched for Ripley Greystone. Immediately, genealogy and family-tree sites jumped on the screen. He scanned through the images. Surprised with what came up, he enlarged a picture associated with a blog post on a travel site about a whitewater rafting tour trip. A grainy cell phone picture of friends accompanied the article, and in the background stood Ripley. If she was a rafting guide, it explained the whys and hows of her physical strength. But, if her pack as a whole was unusually strong, that also explained the choice to be river guides. So that didn’t answer a single one of his questions.
Next he searched the rafting company.
Shaking his head, he drummed the photos. “It can’t be that easy.” For a pack that had fallen off the face of the planet, they were hiding in plain sight. Grey Wolf River Tours. Not one picture of Ripley Greystone graced their website, though. So, Z dialed the number provided as he made his way back to Gee’s.
“Grey Wolf River Tours, how can I help you?” a man’s voice vibrated in his ear.
It didn’t go unnoticed to Z that the man didn’t offer a name. Adopting an air of ignorance, Z answered, “Um, yes, a friend of mine recommended you guys.”
“That’s great, we love hearing that.” An air of pride filled the man voice. “What level of rafter are you?”
“This would be my first experience rafting.”
“Not a problem, everyone has to start somewhere. Okay, let’s see…I have a few questions. When are you looking to be in the area, and how many are in your party?”
“I will actually be close this weekend, and it’s only me.”
“Just you?” Suspicion laced the man’s words.
Shit. Z paused mid-step. Time to change tack. “My buddy wants to do a five-day rafting tour, but I would hate to get out on the water and realize I suffer from seasickness, or worse, hated rafting altogether. I thought I would check out your overnight trip. That way, when I go out with my friend later on, I’m not such a dork on the water.”
“I totally get it, dude.”
The distrust eased as the guy laughed. Z suspected he was dealing with an omega. Relieved, he continued to work his way down Main Street as he made his reservations.
“Let’s see, we have a few slots open for the weekend overnight.”
“Fantastic. My name is Zames with a Z.” The fake name rolled off his tongue without thought. Each Infiltrator out in the field adopted a full name to prevent raising suspicions. He gave the rest of the information requested, then said, “Oh, I know it’s a long shot, but my buddy said his guide had been called Raleigh.”
“Raleigh? Oh, you must mean Ripley. She isn’t the guide for this weekend’s tour, but you’ll be happy with any of our guides.”
Ending the call, Z immediately texted his sister, N, who headed the pack-history information center. N, like all Infiltrators, bore only a letter, number, or symbol as her name. A being the Alpha and B his beta. When a new Alpha would be voted in, he would take on the new letter-name, as would his mate, opening their old symbols for new pups.
Z: N, any and all information on the Greystone Pack of the Grey Wolf River as soon as possible.
Entering the bar, he ignored the silence and walked straight over to Gee. “Offer still on the table for dinner and drinks?”
“You come seeking information?” Gee headed for the back door, and Z followed. “This about that girl who came into town hoping for some help?”
When they were settled at
the picnic table located behind the kitchen, Z said, “Greystone Pack.”
“Honestly, I thought the pack died off decades ago. They went from being prominent to forgotten in a few years.”
“Prominent how?”
“Large, powerful, but not malicious or cruel.”
The waiter brought their food. Z looked down at the burger, his hunger overruling the lack of desire for the food set before him. Of course, the options were limited at the bar—hamburgers or hamburgers, and on some nights, cheeseburgers.
Once the omega moved safely out of earshot, Gee continued, “Last I remember hearing, their Alpha had died, but I never heard who took over. Never thought about it until now.”
“How did they make their living, do you remember?” Z asked.
“Fishing. No—rafting tours, I think. Odd choice, but who am I to say how anyone should make a living? At least they aren’t hurting anyone, right?”
Z’s phone pinged and he glanced at it. The text message from N couldn’t wait. “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this.”
Gee waved him on, his mouth full of burger.
N’s message glowed at him.
N: Nothing Z…absolutely nothing
Fuck. Just as he’d suspected.
Z: Thanks for checking.
No sooner had he hit send, N’s next message appeared.
N: A wants you to infiltrate and get the information back for the keeper’s files.
Z looked at the sky. What the hell did they think he’d been doing? Instead of telling his sister this wasn’t his first rodeo, he typed instead.
Z: On it. Last known Alpha died forty years ago, and now the pack runs a rafting company. All I know.
N: Figured you were. When are you coming home? I miss my big brother.
Z: Soon.
A lie, and she would know that.
N: Right. Heard that before. Be safe.
Z: Always am.
He hit the delete button, and the conversation disappeared. “My keepers know nothing.”
“Well, that makes me feel better.” Gee lifted his beer and laughed.
Chapter Two
Ripley hated paperwork—the bills and the accounting—but more than anything she hated being stuck inside. She longed to be on the river, in the woods, running in wolf form—running free. At the moment, she couldn’t do any of those things. Throwing her pencil on her desk, she stomped to the window. Her sisters were dealing with the rafts, going out and helping to load the trailer for the tourist trip this afternoon.
The door opened, and Janey, her youngest sister, came in rubbing a bandana over the back of her neck. “That’s it for today. Last two boats for the rapid tours have gone out, and the overnight passengers should be rolling in very soon. I don’t ever remember a summer this busy.”
“Business is definitely good.” Silver lining to the fact their pack currently fought off serious issues with a coyote band. “Perhaps now we can hire some protection.”
“Do you really think it calls for that?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t trust the coyotes.” For years, the coyotes had tried to woo or bring Ripley’s pack and their band together. Over the last few years, the rebuffs of their advances on her pack had been met with hostility, and lately, though Ripley couldn’t prove the coyotes were the culprits, violence. Nothing had occurred that, on its own, had caused more than a raised eyebrow, but put together with her suspicions, it made her nervous for her pack. Small things like dead animals left on the steps of their business, a billboard vandalized, missing oars and small punctures in one of the rafts.
A new, pristine black SUV pulled into the guest parking lot, and a tall, fashionable man stepped out, stretched, and smelled the air. The hackles on her nape rose. Not only did the man seem out of place—too high-style for their usual clientele—but he could have come right off the cover of GQ.
“Janey, how many are in tonight’s overnight?”
Peeking around the office refrigerator door, Janey pulled the water jug out and started to refill her tin water bottle. “Two families who are friends, apparently. They vacation every year together. And a guy who called two days ago.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“That didn’t raise any alarms with anyone?”
Unfortunately, Ripley seemed to be the only one who saw the world as dangerous and the people in it not always kind.
“Walter questioned the man about why he would want to come rafting and camping alone.”
“And?” Why could no one give information freely?
“And his explanation appeared logical to Walter.”
Walter, one of the many omegas in the pack, covered the office weekdays and took the reservations. He would accept anything, no matter what someone told him. His kind heart couldn’t see that any person would have a reason to be less than who they said they were. Ripley wasn’t so understanding or gullible. She couldn’t afford to be— she had the pack safety to think about.
The door opened and the human male’s cologne scent hit her senses like a wall of steam, making it hard to catch her breath. Her nipples hardened as long-dormant hormones jolted awake. Closing her eyes, she let an overwhelming sexual attraction wash through her. She gripped the counter, hoping to gain control. If he noticed her response to him, he showed no sign of it. He didn’t even glance in her direction.
“Welcome. Can I help you?” Janey’s voice, usually high and perky, dropped into a husky tone as she flirted with the stranger. Although it shouldn’t have bothered Ripley, for the first time, her sister’s svelte, bombshell body with full breasts did bother her.
The man lifted his sunglasses and placed them on top of his head, then dealt Janey a full-out, killer smile. Teeth, perfect and white, gleamed behind full, kissable lips. “I hope so. I called about the overnight excursion tonight.”
“You must be Zames?” Janey leaned in, emphasizing her cleavage while pushing a clipboard over. “Read this and sign the waiver, here and here. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Grabbing the pen and clipboard, tall-dark-and-gorgeous took himself to the bench. Most people glanced over the waiver and rules, but he seemed to read every word before signing a Z with flourish on the two areas she had indicated.
“I’m not the only one going tonight, am I?”
“Nah, the rest of the group hasn’t arrived yet. They should be here anytime,” Janey said.
“While you’re waiting, if you have any food for the coolers, we can get into the boat and I can get you a dry sack.” Ripley ignored her sister’s questioning gaze. The rule had always been if you brought it, you packed it. But she couldn’t trust her instincts with this man. Granted, those same instincts were telling her to rip his clothes off and ride him until she couldn’t walk. “Those your bags right next to your vehicle?”
“Yes.” Passing the waiver back to Janey, Zames trailed fast on Ripley’s heels as she went outside then headed her off by a step, lifting the backpack. He followed her to the riverbed. “Should I pack my cell phone away, too?”
For a moment, looking into his green eyes, she found it difficult to remember what they were talking about. “Um...cell phone. You only need to put it in the dry pack if you want to. Your trip today is very calm but picturesque. Most people like to take some photos to remember the experience. You might get a little wet, but there isn’t much of a chance of falling out unless you jump or decide to take a swim.”
“I promise not to jump.”
“Always a good idea, and your guide will let you know where it’s safe to swim should you so choose.” She pulled out one of the black wet packs, which resembled a large bag made of tire rubber. “Anything you want out of that?” she asked, reaching for his backpack. It was imperative she touched it.
Handing it over to her, he shook his head and turned as two large Travel America RVs rolled in, and a boisterous lot of pre-teens jumped out. “The party has arrived.”
“Good luck
. You might want to jump after all.” She rolled the top of the bag until it had a tight seal. Making room in the motorboat filled with the coolers and supplies for the night’s camping, she put the bag in the front with enough room for the other ones to come. “Grab a life vest. And we sell beer inside. You might want to grab a six-pack. Otherwise, your guide will be here shortly. Enjoy your trip.”
After briefly greeting the new arrivals, Ripley made her way back to the main building.
Before she could enter, her sister hissed in her ear. “What in the hell was that all about? Since when do we help anyone with their gear, and why are you putting your scent all over it?”
Jealousy, unlike Ripley had ever felt, ripped through her. “Worried I’m going to step into your territory?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Her sister sniffed before throwing her hands in the air. “What has gotten into you? You’re acting like a lunatic.”
What was she doing? Why did she feel this hostility? It wasn’t like Ripley at all. Rolling her neck until it cracked, she took a deep breath. “You’re right, I am not myself. I don’t trust him. Something about him isn’t quite what it seems.”
“And maybe you’re seeing a boogeyman where there is none.”
“Perhaps, although I need to go through his gear just in case. But I can’t have him know that, so I touched it in case he smells me on it after I go through it.”
“He’s human. He wouldn’t have had a clue.”
“I’m not so sure.”
That got her sister’s attention. “Did you smell something? I couldn’t, other than the heady cologne made especially for him.”
“No, the lack of other smells worried me. Unless the man lives in an animal-slash-plant-free zone and never comes across anything of nature, then he must live in a bubble.”
“Perhaps he took a shower.”
Oh, dear heaven. Images of him naked standing under jets of water forced Ripley to squeeze her thighs together. “Trust me, please.”
“What are you thinking? Coyote?”
Infiltrating Her Pack Page 2
