Linda O. Johnston - Canadian Wolf

West Columbia reminded Selena of countless small towns she’d visited back in the States. The street they traversed, Columbia Avenue, was lined with shops of various types.

There were also a number of restaurants, all with lights on and apparently still open. Selena didn’t recognize their names, but they seemed to be an assortment of family-style and gourmet eateries. Some of the aromas wafting out of them, especially the gourmet establishments, filled Selena’s senses and made her smile, even though she was far from hungry. Maybe she’d have an opportunity to sample some of the food here before her assignment was complete.

“This seems like a very pleasant town,” Selena said to make conversation. She was very aware of Owen at her side. She had the sense he wanted to pick up the pace but had reined himself in somewhat to accommodate her.

He didn’t need to. She was quite comfortable walking fast and did so often at home as part of a daily fitness regimen. She ran, too, when she felt like it—in both her forms.

Partly to accommodate him instead, and partly to challenge him, she began walking faster.

He kept up with her with apparently no effort. “I like your speed,” he said, sounding not at all out of breath, which didn’t surprise her.

“I thought you might.” She glanced up at him at her side and caught a glance that appeared somewhat amused—and a whole lot sexy.

She looked away quickly and stepped it up a notch or two more.

The first bar they came to, in the middle of a retail block, was Myrtell’s. Selena heard the loud hum of conversation even before Owen opened the glass door, and as they stepped inside, the sound level rose to near deafening, despite her being in human form.

Myrtell’s was crowded and smelled of liquor and popcorn and people scents that probably were only somewhat discernible to the patrons here, but were strong and not all pleasant to Selena.

She wasn’t about to mention that to Owen, let alone complain. But after they’d both looked around for several minutes and failed to see either Rainey or any of the CAs, Selena was glad when they left.

Once again, Owen allowed her to choose their speed. And once again, she walked fast, though she didn’t settle into a run.

The next place—the Wonderbar—was on a side street about three blocks farther than Myrtell’s. Its entry was covered by a sign that resembled a theater marquee, and Selena heard the crowd noises emanating from the place nearly as soon as they turned the corner from Columbia Avenue.

As they reached the door, Selena inhaled the aromas emanating from the Wonderbar. If she had to guess, the patrons here preferred beer over the other kinds of alcohol she had smelled at both of the other bars.

She first heard, then saw, Rainey when she looked inside the door. Her aide was sitting with the four recruits around a moderate-sized round table that held glasses of many sizes, indicating their differences in drinks. Wineglasses sat before Andrea and Tim. Sal had a tall glass in front of him with an amber liquid and ice inside, suggesting a drink with hard liquor—or perhaps it was just a soft drink. Craig and Rainey seemed to fit in better with more of the crowd here since beer steins were on the table in front of them.

Interesting choices, but Selena had no time to do more than give that a passing thought. Owen and she hurried through the door and up to that table.

“Hey, welcome.” Sal stood to pull his chair aside to make room for the newcomers. Knowing the young, skinny guy was only nineteen years old, Selena glanced at his amber drink, but she knew that was the legal drinking age in British Columbia. If he had hard liquor in front of him it would be acceptable here, and the scent Selena detected told her it was alcohol.

“Yeah. Where’ve you been?” Andrea asked. Across the table from Sal, she, too, stood and looked around as if seeking another seat for them, her wide but smallish eyes peering over her prominent nose as she checked out the place.

“Looking for you,” Owen said, not entirely truthfully, Selena thought, since they hadn’t sought out the rest of the crowd when they first got to the Yukon Bar. “We needed to let you know we’re going to hold an update session very early tomorrow morning.”

“Then there’s been some news?” Rainey was on her feet, too. Selena couldn’t help grinning at her aide. Rainey was always eager to jump into whatever assignment they had, and being here with these other shifters seemed to only increase her enthusiasm. She’d pulled a Minnesota Timberwolves sweatshirt on, probably her attempt at a silent joke with regard to the wolf shifters here, including her commanding officer—Selena.

“Yes,” Owen said. “We’ll tell you about it first thing tomorrow.”

“And discuss how we’re going to handle things a little later,” Selena added, “when the rest of our Alpha Force team arrives.”

“Right,” Owen agreed. “But right now I’d suggest you head back to your hotel rooms so you can get a reasonably good night’s sleep. You have fixings for breakfast at our...site?”

Selena figured he’d avoided saying “headquarters” in case anyone around was eavesdropping. All the crowd she saw seemed caught up in their own conversations—and imbibing. But she appreciated his discretion.

“Yes, we do,” Craig said.

“Great. Then get on back to where you’re staying now.”

“Soon as we finish our drinks,” Craig agreed, and the others nodded. Selena suspected they had only recently ordered refills since none of their glasses appeared especially empty. But that was okay. The alcohol might help them sleep better.

“We’ll see you in the kitchen of the main house, then, at o-seven...er, seven a.m.,” Selena said, quickly getting herself out of military speak.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rainey whispered with a sly grin.

Selena wasn’t sure whether the RCMP knew US military protocol, speaking or otherwise, let alone followed it. But when she glanced around the table, all the CAs were grinning.

Especially Sergeant Major Owen Dewirter.

* * *

“You’re staying downtown somewhere, aren’t you?” Selena asked as Owen pulled her chair out so she could stand.

Despite being an officer of the law, he didn’t always follow traditional etiquette with women. Even so, something about Selena made him want to revert to the old ways he’d learned as a child here in Canada—actions that had supposedly been imported from the mother country of the UK years, even centuries, ago. Odd, he knew. And he didn’t want to overthink it now.

But on some level he realized he was hoping to make himself think of his obligatory partner in this program as a lady, not an officer in the United States Army whose rank might be in some ways equivalent to his own in the nonmilitary RCMP, or perhaps even higher. And certainly not as a shapeshifter from whom he had a lot to learn to fulfill his current assignment.

Plus, he got closer to her this way than he otherwise might. Could smell her fresh, almost floral scent—nothing like the scent of dogs or wolves that he might otherwise have anticipated.

In addition, while being polite, he could imagine touching her for other reasons than assisting her in and out of cars or pulling her chair out for her.

Which most likely meant he should start being rude from this moment on.

“That’s right,” he responded. They left the others behind at the table and wended their way through the bar crowd to the exit door. Once they were out on the sidewalk he continued, “My team and I will move into the house you and your other Alpha Force members will be occupying now once you’ve trained us and moved on.”

“So where are you all living now?”

“Hotels. I’m in one, and the rest of the CAs are in a different one.” He’d thought that would help his subordinates bond without worrying too much about being part of a regimented system. That would come in time. And he didn’t worry about his command. As soon as the training and the mission started, they’d know who was in charge.