Prince of Shadows by Susan Krinard

Alex almost smiled. In two weeks and a few meetings Julie already knew enough about her to realize she’d never let the matter rest. Alex tested the unfamiliar feeling of knowing someone else cared enough to try to understand. She hadn’t expected it, not even after she decided to risk Julie’s friendship.

It felt strange to be able to expect something good.

“I’ll do some investigating on my own,” she answered. “There’s a right way to go about dealing with livestock depredation, and it wouldn’t be the first time a wolfs kills were exaggerated.” She began to write out a check; Julie’s hand came down over hers.

“Forget that. I told you it was on the house this time.”

Alex set her jaw and almost argued, but Julie’s pleasant face hid a core of stubbornness equal to her own. Alex hadn’t been in debt to anyone since she stopped taking her father’s money the day of her graduation from college. The only safety lay in not owing anything to anyone.

Maybe Julie was different. Maybe she was safe.

“Thank you,” Alex said, stuffing the checkbook in her backpack. She opened the Blazer’s door. “One more thing—you know of a guy named Arnoux? Some sort of recluse who might be a wolf hunter?”

Julie frowned. “Arnoux. Yeah, I know the name. He doesn’t come into town much. He lives pretty far out, works on and off as a guide for some of the excursion companies. I heard his land is all fenced in, that anyone who comes near his place is taking a big risk. Sort of our token crazy backwoodsman, I guess. But that’s about all I know,”

Alex shrugged. Something to keep in mind, if this Arnoux was likely to be an ally to Howie and his bunch of wolf haters. “Would you let me know if you hear anything else about the wolf?”

“Yeah, of course.” Julie stared at Alex, brows knitted. “Just don’t take any chances, okay?”

“I never take chances. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah,” Julie muttered. “Thanks again for what you did in the store.”

“Thank you,” Deanna echoed.

Alex nodded awkwardly and slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t need thanks for what little she’d done for Deanna. The only creatures that had ever really needed her didn’t speak in human language.

They needed her now. She’d sworn to make a difference the very first time she went into the field as a wolf researcher, to champion the wolves in every way she could. They had given her a purpose, a memory of contentment, a reason for being alive. That was a debt she could never repay.

Adrenaline pumped through her body when she thought about Howie’s threats. She’d seen dead wolves before, in Montana and Idaho, killed by fearful ranchers who couldn’t share their land. And there were the vague nightmare images from her childhood, a fairy tale gone terribly wrong and tangled with tragedy.

But not this time.

It was a matter of simple justice. Howie Walsh and his ilk would kill a wolf over her dead body.

Chapter 2

Alexandra stretched her legs and tested her snowshoes one final time. Her gear was packed and the fire banked in the stove, awaiting her return. She knew how to get to Howie’s farm cross-country; she could make it there and back in a few hours if she moved quickly. Waiting until tomorrow wasn’t an option.

There wasn’t even time to write an entry in her journal. Alex hitched her pack over her shoulders and started away from the cabin at a brisk pace.

She had Just passed the driveway when she saw the wolf tracks. She stopped and crouched in the snow. One glance confirmed that they were the same ones she’d found before, closer to her cabin than they’d ever been: the huge prints of the black wolf she’d briefly glimpsed several times over the past two weeks.

This wolf was alone; there were no other tracks to indicate a pack anywhere near, though she’d heard them howling.

“I’ve seen that black wolf,” one of the farmers had said. “He’s big.…”

Alex looked up, squinting through the bare branches of a nearby stand of aspens. The tracks were fresh. The likelihood of observing the wolf was small, but at least she had an opportunity to see where it was going, what its patterns of movement were. If this was the same wolf the farmers had been talking about, she’d just been given the chance she was hoping for.

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