Karen Whiddon - Shades of the Wolf

One dark eyebrow arched, his face showing an uncanny awareness of how uneasy she was becoming.

“What makes you think that? If we knew everything, I’d know exactly where to find my sister.” He turned away, staring out at the road ahead of them. “And I wouldn’t need you.”

Good point. Somewhat relieved, she decided to keep on trying to help. “Let’s head to the police station. I’ll figure out something to say that won’t get me thrown in jail.” She hoped.

* * *

Tyler rode in the passenger seat of her car as if he were alive, just because he wanted to study this Anabel Lee a bit more closely. When he’d received Dena’s frantic pleas for help, he’d searched for the most powerful witch he could find. He’d been drawn to the energy radiated from Anabel, just like all the other ghosts, apparently. He’d immediately realized he’d made the right choice when she not only looked at him, but could hear him when he spoke.

One thing that had taken him by surprise was her beauty. Tall and graceful, slender and shapely, and her delicate features left him momentarily speechless. Her midnight hair tumbled carelessly down her back, adding to her attraction. But her copper eyes fringed in long, sooty lashes had done him in. He’d never seen anything like her. Exquisite, enchanting and sexy as hell. The instant he’d met her, he’d felt the impact of her femininity like a sucker punch to the gut.

Which pissed him off royally. After all, he’d come back as a ghost to save his sister, not fight an overwhelming attraction to a witch. Which, despite Anabel’s claims to the contrary, she most definitely was.

He didn’t understand why she insisted on lying about her magical ability. Maybe if he told her they were most likely dealing with not only a serial-killer psychopath, but a powerful warlock, she’d come clean. Because everyone knew to fight magic with magic, didn’t they?

Or maybe, maybe she just didn’t know.

The instant that idea occurred to him, he discounted it. How could she radiate power and not understand who and what she was?

For now, he decided to let that topic rest.

“So,” she asked, shooting him a sidelong glance that told him she felt nervous, “in the afterlife, do you still shift into a wolf?”

“Of course,” he answered, playing along. “We are what we are. Dying doesn’t change that.” He thought for a moment and then completed his statement. “At least, until we’re reborn into a new body.”

“Of course.” And she laughed, as if he’d made a joke. “Reincarnation too? Why not.”

Not sure what to think about this, he decided not to pursue this topic either. Things were confusing enough, what with warlocks and serial killers and ghosts. What choice did he have but to let it go? For all he knew, powerful witches thought differently from everyone else.

And, he reminded himself, Anabel Lee had to be a witch with very strong powers. She had to be, if they were to have a prayer in defeating the man who’d captured and enslaved his sister. If it turned out she wasn’t, then he’d chosen wrong and Dena would die.

Contenting himself with looking out the window, though Leaning Tree looked exactly as he remembered, he was struck anew by the rustic beauty. Right now the green leaves flirted with shades of yellow, red and orange. In a few weeks, they’d blaze with color, as soon as the first crispness started to creep into the air. Autumn had always been his favorite time of year.

A moment later, they pulled up at the police station. The one-story, redbrick building looked the same. Again, memories surfaced. He’d spent a fair amount of time here as a kid, when his father was arrested for whaling on his mother.

“Wait here,” she ordered, shooting him a stern look as she got out of her car.

“Right.” He did exactly as she said, for maybe ten seconds. And then he materialized inside the station, waiting for her by the battle-scarred counter of the front desk as she walked in.

The dirty look she gave him made him smile.

“Anabel Lee.” The frizzy-haired woman behind the counter sounded less than thrilled. “What do you want?”

To her credit, Anabel didn’t react to the overt hostility in the receptionist’s tone. “I’d like to see Captain Harper, please.”

The other woman, whose name tag read Brenda Winder, appeared unmoved, squinting at Anabel through thick glasses. “Of course you would. Why don’t you tell me what it is you need, and I’ll see if I can find someone to help you? Since I am, you know, the dispatcher. That’s what we do.” Her unkind smile had Tyler clenching his fists.

He glanced at Anabel, to see what she would do. To his surprise, she’d assumed a deferential posture. “I’d prefer to discuss it with him, thanks.”

Pursing her mouth, the other woman glared at her. “Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Without commenting, Anabel found a metal folding chair and lowered herself into it.

Enraged, he went to her. “What was that? Why do you let that person talk to you that way?”

Her sigh sounded more weary than exasperated. She kept her voice down, since to anyone else it would appear she was carrying on a one-sided conversation with herself. “I tried to tell you. Most of the people around this town consider me crazy, an unwelcome nuisance at best. No one in Leaning Tree wants to have anything to do with me, never mind talk to me.”

“Because of your power?”

She moved her hand in a chopping motion. “Enough about the power. I don’t have any, so stop pretending I do.”

Before he could respond, Anabel looked up. Her entire body stiffened. “Now look what you made me do,” she hissed, her porcelain skin turning tomato red.

Brenda Winder stood back behind the desk, staring at Anabel with a horrified and smug expression on her meaty face. “Talking to yourself again?” she drawled. “Crazy is as crazy does.”

Stone-faced, Anabel kept staring straight ahead and didn’t bother to reply. Finally, Brenda tired of tormenting someone who wouldn’t respond and went back to reading something on her computer.

A few minutes later, a stocky man with wide shoulders and an even wider belly stomped into the room. His bushy gray eyebrows lowered in a frown, and he eyed Anabel as if he expected her to present him with something disgusting and distasteful. “You wanted to talk to me?” he asked, sounding anything but accommodating.

“I did.” Smiling, Anabel got to her feet gracefully. “Good to see you, Captain Harper. Could we please talk in your office?”

“Out here will do just fine.”

“No.” Anabel straightened her shoulders, her smile fading and her gaze direct. “It won’t. I need a little privacy, please.”

The captain sighed, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. “Sure. Why not? Come on back. I’m sure you know the way.”

Another puzzle. Resolving to try to find out from Anabel what all this meant, Tyler glided along after them as they walked through the crowded open area buzzing with activity. They passed several uniformed officers, a few criminals or complainants, and not a single person acknowledged or greeted Anabel. She made a beeline toward a small office in the back corner.

Most of the police officers were busy, which might excuse them. Some were on the phone, others talking to people sitting in their desk chairs. Suspects? Tyler looked for handcuffs, noting two people at opposite ends of the room who wore them.

Despite that, the instant they realized who had just walked into the room, every single person stopped what he or she was doing and stared.

Tyler would have liked to believe this was due respect for her power, but some of the officers seemed disgusted. A few others exchanged glances with their coworkers, even going so far as to shake their heads or roll their eyes.