Karen MacInerney - Leader of the Pack

Leader of the Pack

Karen MacInerney

Theres someone to see you, my assistant Sally said as I walked past her desk. In lieu of her traditional spandex, she was dressed in a flattering blue suit that actually covered her midriff all the way around. Sometime in the last few weeks, her wardrobe had undergone a major change. I wasnt sure why, but I liked it. She was even wearing fewer layers of eyeliner.

Who is it?

He told me it was a surprise said hes an old friend.

No business card?

She shook her head, and I sighed. She might look more professional from a sartorial standpoint, but she was still less than ideal as an assistant.

I straightened my jacket and headed for my office, wondering what old friend had turned up. I took a deep breath as my hand touched the knoband froze.

Something wrong?Sally asked.

Yes, something was wrong. Very wrong. Unless my nose was deceiving me, Sally had let a werewolf into my office. But I wasnt about to tell Sally that.

Next time somebody comes to visit me, I said, would you please have them wait outside my office?

She shrugged, and I resisted the impulse to snarl at her. Instead, I turned and opened the office door. He was sitting at my desk.

Also by Karen MacInerney

On the Prowl

Howling at the Moon

Books published by The Random House Publishing Group are available at quantity discounts on bulk purchases for premium, educational, fund-raising, and special sales use. For details, please call 1-800733-300

For my sister, Liza Potter, with love

Most of the time, Im not too crazy aboutbeing a werewolf. For so many reasons: the compulsory and inconvenient transformations, the excessive reliance on Lady Bic razors not to mention the difficulty explaining to potential mates that our children would probably grow a natural fur coat and tail every twenty-eight days or so. Maintaining a normal relationshipmuch less a careeris a hairy proposition when you tend to sprout fangs every time someone pops Moonstruck into the DVD

player.

But there are compensations. The lightning-fast reflexes, for example. The ability to scare the pants off of would-be muggers and rapists. The deep, almost carnal enjoyment of a rare prime rib at Ruths Chris. And, as was currently the case, the ability to smell every nuance of a gorgeous spring day. It was a warm mid-March afternoon in central Texas , and I was on my way back to Austin from a meeting with my favorite client in San Antonio . The radio was playing full blast and the windows in my M3 were wide open, letting in the mingled scents of fresh earth, new grass, cows, and a complete and total absence of werewolves, which was fine by me. The cows, however, were making me hungry. Lunch had been a long time ago, I realized as I gulped back a mouthful of saliva and reached for my tumbler of wolfsbane tea.

I was mentally reviewing the more intimate details of my meeting with Mark Sydney, CEO of Southeast Airlines. He was my client, to be sureand landing the Southeast Airlines account had recently netted me partnershipbut most of the afternoon had been spent at a romantic River Walk restaurant staring over a giant margarita at my clients deep blue eyes . I was reviewing our good-bye kiss when my cell phone rang.

I flipped it open as the M3 rolled past another tasty-smelling herd of cows. Sophie Garou.

So, how did your meeting go? It was my best friend, Lindsey.

Fine, I said. We did some strategic planning and talked about general accounting practices. Everythings great.

Are you dating yet?

Not officially. Were kind of keeping things quiet; Id rather Adele didnt know. I didnt want to know what my boss thought of my mixing business with pleasure. And boy, was it a pleasure

Marks a good match for you. I liked Heath, but he just didnt have the same I dont know. Zing?

Lindsey was right about Markhe was all about zingbut my heart still wrenched a little at the mention of my ex-boyfriend. Heath had asked me to marry him on Valentines Day, about a month ago, and Id had to decline. Partly because I wasnt sure how hed take the whole Im a werewolf

announcement, of course. And partly because I suspected he was sleeping with his gorgeous associate Miranda. But even without those rather significant mitigating factors, things just hadnt been right between us for a long time. It was a hard decision, but I was pretty sure it was the right one.

For the record, Mark and I are not dating, I repeated. Even if we had enjoyed a fewokay, more than a fewsteamy episodes together. Hes my client, I reminded her. But Mark was also something elsesomething even stranger than I was. About a month ago, when Id gotten into trouble with a pack of deranged Mexican werewolves, hed appeared out of nowhere wearing wings and what looked like a full-body coat of liquid napalm. Which was convenientas was the fact that he knew I was a werewolfbut enough to give me pause when I thought of becoming involved with him long-term. It was bad enough that my children would have intermittent episodes involving a full coat of fur and a tail. A full coat of fur doused in napalm would be a bit much. Particularly if it occurred while I was giving birth.

Still, I had to admit Mark was absolutely fabulous in bed. I squeezed my legs together just thinking about our last episode, which had taken place between acts at the Zachary Scott Theater

Is he up for this weekend? Lindsey asked.

What? I asked, pulling my mind up out of the gutter. Or, in this case, the coat room at Zach Scott.

The Howl.Arent you going?

Id blocked it out of my mind so thoroughly Id almost forgotten about the upcoming inter-pack meeting, which was scheduled to start Friday in Fredericksburg , an hour or two west of Austin . Since I wasnt affiliated with any pack, I didnt feel too inclined to attend, even though Wolfgang, the leader of the Houston pack, had asked me to poke my nose in. To which Id said a polite no thank you. As far as I was concerned, the less I had to do with the werewolf world, the better. God, no, I said to Lindsey.

Since youre not officially dating , why dont you drop in and leave Mark behind? You might meet a cute single werewolf.

Like Tom? I thought before I could stifle it. Tom was perhaps the most intoxicatingly handsome werewolf I had ever met. Granted, I hadnt met a whole lot of werewolves over the last twenty-eight yearsId been undercover for most of that timebut Id seen enough to know that Tom was something pretty special. He had long blond hair, chiseled Nordic features, shimmery gold werewolf eyes, and a tanned body I just couldnt stop staring at. And then there was his smell, which was enough to reduce me to a quivering puddle of lust

But Tom was dating Lindsey, which meant he was strictly off-limitseven if we had, in a weak moment, acknowledged a rather powerful mutual attraction. Still, his unavailability wasnt necessarily such a bad thing; if my father was any indication of werewolf quality on the mating front, a werewolf was the last thing I needed on my dating resume.

Twenty-nine years ago, my mother had had the bad fortune to fallquite literally, since she tripped stepping off a tour boatfor a werewolf in Paris . According to my mom, it was Romeo and Juliet all over again, only with gypsies and werewolves instead of Capulets and Montagues. Despite extreme family disapproval, my mother and her lover continued to see each other in secretat least until I came around.

Romance or no romance, the arrival of a bouncing baby werewolf was too much for Luc Garou: He sent my mother and me out of the country. My mother still claimed it was for our protectionthe story had always been that the pack would kill us both if they found us therebut since we hadnt seen hide nor hair of him for almost twenty-eight years, I suspected my well-being wasnt my fathers primary motive in shipping us overseas. I still carried his surname, Garou, but thats all I had to do with him. Other than the whole werewolf thing, of course.