SECRET OF THE WOLF By Susan Krinard

“Johanna. I’m glad you came.”

She drew Daisy up beside him. “You said it was urgent.”

“Yes.” His voice held a note of strain, and he kept looking back over his shoulder toward town as if he expected followers. “Something new has happened in Silverado Springs that I felt you should know about directly. Before someone else arrives to inform you.”

Foreboding stiffened Johanna’s shoulders. “Go on.”

“Another man has been attacked,” he said. “Last night, well after midnight. His body was disovered just outside of Silverado Springs. I am told the man was a local mine owner of some wealth, known chiefly for his cruel treatment of his Chinese workers. He was not well liked, so I hear—but someone resented him enough to kill him.”

“He’s dead?”

“Torn apart, I hear, though I have not seen the body.”

A metallic taste coated her mouth. “And they suspect that one of my patients is responsible.”

“Yes.” He gave her a grave and sympathetic look. “I thought it best to warn you, so that you are prepared. After the previous attack on Ingram… the crowd was in an ugly mood this morning, and I fear—” He sighed. “I fear they may take matters into their own hands.”

“Without proof?”

“What proof does a mob need? And there is more… two men from town claim to have identified a man lurking near the place when the mine owner was found. He bears, from the description, a striking resemblance to your Quentin Forster.”

With as much stern discipline as she’d ever employed, Johanna prevented herself from showing any reaction. “I see.”

“You do know where he is?”

“Naturally. It’s all an unfortunate mistake. I thank you for your warning.” She turned Daisy away, but Bolkonsky caught at her reins.

“My dear Johanna, I understand your dismay, but you can see now why it is necessary for me to take May with dispatch. She may be in danger from this—this madman, whoever he may be.”

“But we agreed—”

“I’m sorry, Johanna. I’ll be coming within the next few hours to fetch her. I would appreciate it if you’d have the girl’s belongings packed and ready.” He patted her arm. “I would prefer this to be as pleasant as possible, for all of us—without involving any outside authorities.”

Bolkonsky had made just such a threat before. The last thing she wanted now was the local law sniffing about the Haven.

“Very well,” she said. “I will do my best.”

She sawed at Daisy’s reins a little too violently, and the mare tossed up her head with a snort. She murmured an apology and kicked the horse into a gallop for home, not bothering with farewells. Let Bolkonsky look to himself.

As she must look to May and Quentin. All at once everything was falling apart, the reins of control slipping through her fingers. She had no notes or textbooks to consult, no protocols to fall back on.

Quentin—Fenris—was all but accused of being a killer. If, indeed, Bolkonsky was telling the truth. He was not a man to be trusted on any count, but she had to assume the worst. And May was in immediate danger.

So short a time ago she’d been filled with hope and happiness, imagining a future built upon love as well as science.

That future, and all she’d ever believed in, was crumbling before her eyes.

Chapter 19

Quentin turned over in his bed, breathing in the scent of Johanna’s body. Her perfume saturated the sheets, filling him with fresh desire and the urge to roll about and rub the scent into his skin like the wolf he could so easily become.

Last night, after the loving, he’d ran as a wolf—swift, sure, and silent. There was no other way to express the joy, the fullness of his heart. And the frustration of self-denial.

He’d done the right thing. He knew that. Johanna was still a virgin, free to give herself to another man without regret.

Or free to choose him, if by some miraculous turn of events fate granted him one more chance.

He got up and walked to the window, stretching in the shafts of morning sunlight until his bones cracked. Another chance. Was it possible?

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