Adam shook his head. “It’s a big building. There is no way that they could know that this early. They’re still fighting it. They’ll know more in a few hours, but it could be days before everyone is accounted for.”

The war committee continued to discuss Christy’s stalker with periodic interruptions from people calling with updates on Christy’s home.

Adam’s investigator told us the whole building was a loss and then gave Adam a few numbers of people involved in the investigation. Once he figured out that Adam was the famous Alpha werewolf, the arson guy got almost chatty. He told Adam that they’d have to wait until the building cooled before anyone could be certain, officially, that the fire had been set. But unofficially, his gut instinct was that the fire was arson. The first police officer called shortly thereafter to ask pointed questions about insurance policies–which seemed to imply that the arson investigator had not only shared his unofficial gut instincts with the police, too, but also told them that Adam was interested in the outcome.

Courteously, Adam told the policeman that Christy had filed a report about a stalker who had assaulted her. And when Adam had recently contacted the Eugene police on the matter, he’d been told that Christy’s stalker might also be involved in the death of a man she’d been dating. Adam gave him the phone number of the officer in charge of the Eugene police investigation without looking it up. The information seemed to mollify that police officer. But not the second one who called.

None of the calls I’d made concerning Coyote had been returned, but Zack called around ten and apologized for not showing up. He’d found a place to stay and also work, but the job had required him to start immediately. He’d come by as soon as he could.

“I understand,” Adam said. “But I’d prefer to bring you into the pack as soon as possible for your safety. My wolves won’t bother you, but there are other things running around town that might if you don’t have pack protection.”

“I’m on call this week,” Zack told Adam. “I can’t afford to turn down hours, nohow. I don’t know when I can come out.”

“Let’s dispense with the formal ceremony, then, and do something quicker,” Adam said. “Where are you staying?”

Almost reluctantly, Zack gave the name of a rent‑by‑the‑week motel.

“Okay,” Adam said. “My mate and I will be there in about half an hour. I’ll call my second. The three of us will make it official. Meeting the pack can wait until you know your schedule.”

“This could all wait,” Zack said.

“No,” Adam told him. “I have no intention of letting you run around my city unprotected.” He hung up before Zack could argue further.

“I’ll keep an eye on everything here, boss,” said Warren. “You go welcome the new wolf to the fold.”

“Mary Jo, go home,” Adam told her. “You’ve helped a lot tonight, but you need to get some sleep before you go to work.”

She gave Christy a worried look.

“I won’t chew on her,” said Warren ironically. “You go on shift tomorrow at five in the morning. Go home, Mary Jo.”

“I’ll see you when you get off work,” said Christy, managing to look like she wished Mary Jo would stay while indicating just the opposite with her words. It was quite a feat. “We can go get a manicure at that place we like in Richland.”

“It closed,” Mary Jo told her.

“I’m sure we can find another shop. Auriele will know someplace good.”

Mary Jo grinned. “She will. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Mary Jo,” Adam said. “Go.”

Left with no choice, Mary Jo preceded us out the door. “Are you sure she’ll be safe with just Warren?” She looked back over her shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Adam with more patience than I’d credited him. “Her stalker set her apartment on fire tonight. There aren’t any direct flights, and it’s a six‑hour drive from Eugene to here. Even if he came directly to murder her in my home, guarded by one of the toughest wolves I know, Juan couldn’t get here before I get back.”

Adam opened the passenger door of his SUV for me, shut it, and got the driver‑side door of Mary Jo’s Jeep for her. She thanked him gravely, when she’d have given any other man the rough side of her tongue for his courtesy. Opening a woman’s door was ingrained in Adam, but he was careful not to do it where one of her coworkers might see it. Apparently firemen, even if they were women, were supposed to be too independent to have doors opened for them–and Mary Jo didn’t want to get teased about it.

Zack’s motel was in east Pasco. The Tri‑Cities doesn’t have really dangerous neighborhoods, but east Pasco comes close. The motel was one of those old ones with little rooms that opened out onto the parking lot, the kind they don’t build anymore because they aren’t really safe.

The big, shiny black SUV garnered the interest of a group of boys hanging out smoking at the edge of the parking lot. They were in that fourteen‑to‑sixteen age category when men are old enough to feel the testosterone and too young to have acquired common sense.

“Hey, gringo,” one of them said. “You sure you want to park that there?”

“Why don’t you just leave that chicawith us, gringo. ’Cus we know what to do with bitches like that. She don’t need no white meat. ’Cus everybody knows white meat is bad for you.”

Adam, who’d rounded the front of the car, kept walking until he was next to me. Then he turned his face a little up and out, letting the weak yellow illumination of the motel’s parking‑lot lights hit his features full on.

The boys had been advancing in a slow, semi‑menacing manner, obviously ready to enjoy running off some poor couple in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We’d had some real trouble with gangs in the Tri‑Cities a few years back, but, except for the serious drug traffickers, who were too concerned with money and keeping a low profile to be harassing tourists for being in the wrong neighborhood, most of the gang activity had died down.

One of the boys paused, squinted at my husband’s face, and came to an abrupt halt. “Hey, man,” he said in a completely different tone of voice. “Hey, man. It’s okay, right? We didn’t mean nothing by it. Just having some fun. Right, man? We don’t want no trouble with you.”

The rest of them paused, disconcerted by the about‑face.

“It’s the werewolf dude,” he whispered loudly. “From the TV? Don’t you idiots watch the news? You don’t screw around with him.”

The others turned to give Adam a closer look, then they all melted away with fake nonchalance.

“They make me feel old,” Adam said mournfully once they were gone.

“That’s because you are old,” I told him without sympathy. He’d enjoyed backing them down. “Come on, old man. Let’s go bring our new wolf into the fold.”

Before we could, a sleek silver ’67 Mustang pulled in next to the SUV, and Darryl got out. Darryl is big in daylight, but the night hides the intelligence in his face and the beauty of his features, which can distract from his size. In the dark, he is huge, and right then he was carrying a tide of irritation that made him even scarier than usual.

I thought of the impression Zack had given me in my garage, and said, “Hey, Darryl. If you could back down a bit? This guy isn’t Peter, who might have been submissive but wasn’t scared of anyone. This wolf is going to take one look at you and run.”

Darryl gave me a ticked‑off look. “I am not irritated with the new wolf. I’m irritated with you. You are causing me trouble, woman.” Darryl’s voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a very deep barrel. It was the kind of voice I imagined a dragon might speak in–if there were dragons. Which didn’t exist. As far as I knew.

I’d thought Darryl was mostly just grumpy, but Adam growled with intent that lent Darryl’s declaration more seriousness. Darryl tipped his head away from me, but that didn’t make him any happier.