Thrown to the Wolves (Big Bad Wolf) Read online

At the top of the hill, the wolf paused and turned. Cooper got all the way out of the car and, feeling just a little ridiculous, raised his hand to wave. But the wolf wasn’t looking at him at all.

  Cooper turned to see what had caught its attention.

  Which was why he saw the man with the gun just as he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Three

  “That was amazing! Did you see that? The biggest I’ve seen. Ever! I told you north Cape Breton was where we needed to be, David.”

  The woman, Dr. Freeman—call me Emily—was crouched examining the wolf’s tracks without looking at her husband, David—just Mr. Freeman, Emily’s the expert, I’m the cash—or Cooper. She’d practically been crawling around in the snow since she’d run up.

  Just Mr. Freeman, on the other hand, wasn’t taking his eyes off of Cooper and didn’t acknowledge his wife’s thrilled exclamations or even the tracks. His expression was intense in a strange way—arrogance, charm, aggression and suspicion all wrapped into one piercing look. When Cooper watched the doctor get down on her knees and elbows to roll a Q-tip in one paw print, David purposefully stepped in between, blocking his view. Hiding what she was doing or hiding his wife? “You said the critter just trotted up to your car, sniffed around and then took off?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Cooper said with more confidence than he felt. He had no idea how long the Freemans and the third man, the man with the gun, had been watching. But considering the unchecked exuberance with which Dr. Freeman was measuring stride length between tracks—eighty-seven centimeters! That’s larger than even timber wolves, David!—Cooper assumed he’d know if she’d seen “the critter” casually open and close a car door for a sniff and smooch.

  “And that sound? The yips? What made it vocalize?” David asked.

  I said I wasn’t single. “I have no idea. It’s, uh, all a bit of a blur, anyway.”

  As soon as he’d seen the gun and established it wasn’t him but the wolf who was under attack, he’d run at the strangers to find out what the fuck was going on and stop what was potentially a relative of Park’s from being killed by hunters.

  But the man with the gun hadn’t even hesitated as Cooper shouted at him. He’d just barreled up the hill after the wolf, moving faster in the snow than Cooper thought possible for a human. Dr. Freeman was right on his heels at first but gave up about halfway and ran back to immediately start measuring paw size and stride length instead. Mr. Freeman didn’t even try to run. He’d just stayed behind to introduce himself to a fuming Cooper.

  They were in the area studying coywolves, or eastern coyotes. “A hybridization of coyotes and wolves,” Dr. Freeman had explained. “They’re closer to wolves in size and social dynamics but have coyotes’ cheekiness, as we like to say. Very sneaky and more adept at navigating human landscapes.”

  “And you’re studying them by shooting them?” Cooper asked, frowning.

  “Tranquilizers only,” David said smoothly. “Emily’s hoping to tag one of them so he’ll lead us back to his pack.”

  “And I want a chance to physically examine these guys up close and take some blood samples.” Emily stood from examining the tracks and was now tapping away on her phone. “There are marked physical and behavioral differences in the animals we’ve seen here compared to the pack we followed in Ontario. This could be a new species entirely.”

  “Just kind of looked like a wolf to me,” Cooper said awkwardly. As a BSI agent he occasionally had to convince locals that werewolves were just regular human people. He’d never been in the position of trying to convince someone a werewolf was just a regular wolf. He had the distinct feeling he wasn’t doing a great job of it.

  The Freemans were a slightly oddly matched couple. Both were white and from California, where she worked as a professor and he was some kind of software designer, but the similarities stopped there. Dr. Emily Freeman looked to be in her late forties with faded blond and gray hair spilling messily out of a UCLA baseball cap. Her face was dry, red and weather-bitten, as if she’d been out in the snow and wind for a month and not five days like they’d said. She also had very black eyeliner on just her lower lids that gave her an oddly sad expression even as she chatted happily about her research and plans for the next two weeks living on Cape Breton.

  David on the other hand was...flashy. He might have been in his forties as well, but it was hard to tell beneath the tan and suspiciously smooth face, and if his pretty blond hair was dyed, it was too expensive a job for Cooper to tell. His clothes said money as well. Brand names that fit well and looked new but dependable.

  There was also, Cooper wearily noted, the distinct bulge of a firearm at his waist, and he doubted this one was a tranq. He seemed vaguely familiar in that way actors in commercials are, but Cooper couldn’t tell if he’d actually seen the man before or if he just looked like all the other carefully curated white blond men that inundated media.

  When they’d shaken hands, his grip was a tad too firm and he’d held on a tad too long. An absurd power move Cooper had never really understood and that did nothing but further annoy him. In fact, it was so not-intimidating he’d almost wondered if David was coming on to him, if the guy wasn’t obviously tracking Cooper’s every glance at his wife.

  “The tracks originate from the west and head straight for you,” Emily was saying, duck-walking across the snow. “No hesitation, or circling. No fear of people at all!”

  “Maybe it was rabid,” Cooper suggested weakly. “Or hungry. Or rabidly hungry.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s gone now.” The man with the tranq gun who had run after the wolf tromped toward them, emerging from the trees. Cooper noticed he also carried a handgun at his waist. Dr. Freeman may have been here to study the animals, but it seemed like the men she was with were prepared for a lot more than science. “Tracks head into the woods on the other side of the hill. Saw about five deer beds out there, but it looks like our wolfy made a wide berth around them coming and going.”

  Emily gasped and looked at her husband with such excitement Cooper could practically hear her naming her newly discovered species or variation of coywolf or whatever.

  “Did you hit him?” David asked.

  “Nah.” The man sucked his teeth, as if annoyed by that. “Fast little bastard.”

  “Are you sure?” Cooper asked.

  “Why?” The man eyed Cooper critically, his eyes such a pale gray they were nearly colorless. He was a short white man with prematurely silver hair, a powerful build and a Québécois accent. “You’re not one of those animal rights vigilantes here to loot us again, are you?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so.”

  The man snorted. “Could have fooled me what with all the screaming you were doing when we got here. Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he said mockingly.

  “Can’t blame the man for being a little startled, Charles. This is Cooper Dayton,” David said, clapping Cooper on the shoulder. “He had a bit of an accident and drove off the road. We’re going to give him a ride into town. Cooper, meet Charles Girard, our very own huntsman and guide to everything wild.”

  Charles scanned Cooper’s body, eyes lingering on the cut on his forehead and then his brace. It was a nonsexual look, but still felt invasive and dehumanizing. Like he was an injured animal Charles was deciding between treating and putting down. “So you were just waiting around down here to be rescued, were you?”

  “My...friend hiked into town,” Cooper said tightly, and Charles smirked, though Cooper couldn’t see what was funny about it. He wondered if they had passed Park on their way here. He nearly asked but bit his tongue. If they hadn’t passed a person, that would just raise more questions. God, there was a lot to remember when keeping a secret. “What did you mean, looters and vigilantes?”

  “Nothing we haven’t come up against before,” David said, flapping a hand. “Kids with big ideals and access to the int
ernet. Everyone loves the pretty, furry animal until it rips up Spot.”

  “That’s not all and you know it,” Charles said. “They’ve gotten into our truck, trashed equipment, stolen guns, and the police do nothing. They’re too busy dragging our asses in because some eccentric, rich-as-shit families cry trespassing.”

  “Don’t they understand we just want to study the animals?” Emily complained, looking up from her phone for the first time.

  “Can’t you just try setting up somewhere else? Study some other wolves? Or coywolves or whatever?” Cooper suggested.

  “Try somewhere else?” Emily’s face twisted, her chipper, distracted persona sharpening into something intense, near manic. “And ignore the opportunity of a lifetime? There have been rumors of a different branch of canid in this part of Canada for years, but I could never get the funding to run a real expedition before.”

  “You don’t quite have the funding now, babe,” David said lightly, nearly a playful admonishment but not quite.

  Emily’s expression cleared. “Of course, you’re right, David. I’m sorry. You know how grateful I am for you. That you would pay out of your own pocket so I can play around in the woods with the animals...” Her voice was fawning now, almost groveling, and it disturbed Cooper on a deep level. He looked at Charles to see if this was a usual pattern between the couple, but the hunter was ignoring his bosses in favor of studying Cooper.

  “I’m just sorry I can only give you three weeks. I know how important it is to you,” David said. His tone was normal enough, but who could tell if that meant anything or not? He caught Cooper staring at him and explained, “Right now we’re a bit of a self-funded venture. But we’re optimistic for the future. Emily’s initial findings have garnered some attention back home.”

  Charles snorted. “So have her arrests.”

  “It’s the notes I’ve sent back on these animals that have them considering funding me at all,” Emily said, ignoring Charles. “The critters here are smarter than I’ve ever seen before. Bigger than even pure wolves and their behaviors are...” She shook her head. “Have you ever felt, Mr. Dayton, like you’re right on the cusp of something? Something that will change your life forever?”

  She was staring up at him earnestly. The eyeliner under her left eye was a little smudged, and for just a moment she looked thirty years younger. The pure, unvarnished excitement pouring off of her, like a teenager getting into a club for the very first time and still thinking something magical was just beyond the door.

  Cooper couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I guess so.”

  “Well, we’re sitting on something big here, I can feel it. There’s no way we can just leave and start somewhere else,” Emily said. “No matter who says we can’t stay. They’d have to kill me first.”

  * * *

  Charles and David helped Cooper transport his and Park’s luggage to their serious-looking off-roader while Emily finished taking samples of snow that she was hoping would turn up a hair and “maybe even some viable DNA” to test. She scooped the snow from the paw print into small plastic cups that looked like something a doctor might give you to pee in. Unlike any medical equipment he’d ever seen, the caps were a bright, near neon purple. She tucked them one by one into a cold bag that was then folded neatly into a hard, violet-colored sample case. It was interesting for the almost intentionally drab and mauve Dr. Freeman. Inside Cooper glimpsed even more gaudily colored sample cups already full and labeled.

  He shifted uncomfortably. The whole thing made him nervous. What was in there? What if she found something? What would those results even look like? What if someone found a sample inside his car? Or worse, on his fucking face? More than once, when Emily made an excited sound or said, “This is interesting,” he was tempted to run over there and stomp on the snow she was examining.

  He wondered if this was what it was like for wolves all the time. Perhaps that explained why all the werewolves he’d ever met spent so little time in wolf form. It was stressful as shit. The reason why Park’s family was all the way out here as isolated and surrounded by wilderness as money could buy them made a lot of sense. No shit, you needed more space as a wolf than as a human. You needed space from humans. But even the wildest parts of the world were shrinking. For the first time Cooper considered how habitat encroachment didn’t just affect the plants and animals.

  When Emily was finally finished and the rental was cleared of things, they all made their way to the Freemans’ car. Boogie had shocked Cooper by obediently scurrying back into her carrier immediately rather than interact with the strangers, and this time he’d belted her securely into the seat beside him. He’d never not follow the How to travel with cats directions he’d googled again.

  The town was a bit farther than Cooper had expected, and the Cabot Trail—the one main road around this part of Cape Breton—curved, climbed and dipped viciously several more times before they could turn off onto flatter ground and approach the beginnings of civilization. Eventually his phone claimed to have enough service to shoot Park a text, but the message still read as undelivered. Cooper couldn’t help but picture Park circling the abandoned rental car, calling for him fearfully before a tranquilizer dart rendered him unconscious and defenseless, and a Charles-like figure loomed over him talking about tagging him for later. Cooper shuddered.

  “Do you have an address we can drop you?” Emily said from the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, just anywhere in town is fine.”

  David chuckled. “We are in town.”

  Cooper’s eyes widened and he peered out the window. At first he saw nothing. A house here, a graveyard there. But then abruptly they were in it. Whatever “it” was.

  He had seen plenty of small towns before, had grown up in one himself, but this was something else. Sparse didn’t cover it. It was clearly more of a fishing village, if even that, with small clusters of once brightly colored clapboards here and there. It was a bit difficult telling what was what. Many of the buildings seemed to have multiple purposes. Ice cream and food and camping supplies and clothing and souvenirs all sold together. There were a few quirky art galleries, a couple of brunch spots with deserted outdoor decks, and a bunch of places to rent kayaks and boats or buy tickets to go on a whaling tour. Almost everything seemed closed. Park had said the Cabot Trail got a decent number of tourists during the high season. This was quite obviously not that season. Cooper didn’t see a single person.

  He checked his phone again. His message still hung in limbo and the idea of waiting around a ghost village in the frigid cold with a ton of bags and a traumatized cat hoping Park would somehow track him down did not appeal. “I still haven’t been able to reach my friend,” he apologized. “Could I possibly try your phones?”

  “We’ve no service, either, I’m afraid,” David said. “It’s something you’ve got to get used to out here.”

  “Is there a landline at your hotel I could use?” Cooper asked, starting to feel a bit desperate. Maybe waiting by the car would have been smarter.

  Up front, David and Emily exchanged a look. “We’re not actually staying in the area,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were researching the, uh, coywolves right here in Port Drove.”

  “None of the inns would take us,” Charles said. “And three Airbnbs canceled last minute. Thank you, Parks,” he added under his breath.

  Cooper startled. “Sorry, what?”

  Charles eyed him. His pale gray eyes were darker now, like smudges of charcoal, as the sun disappeared behind the clouds blowing in off the sea. “The Parks. Well, it was either them or the Rosettis. Either way, between the two of them there’s some mob-style shit going on behind the scenes and no one in this town dares say boo about it.”

  “Now, Charles,” David said. That tone again. Same as he’d used on his wife. Like he was talking to a child that had amused hi
m but still needed to be disciplined. It made Cooper’s skin crawl. “Let’s not go telling tales.”

  “That’s who you were talking about before?” Cooper asked. “The families that called the police on you for trespassing?”

  “Yes, although how they even knew we were there is a mystery,” David said. “Unfortunately, a lot of the animal activity Emily’s interested in seems to cluster around their properties, and both families have refused our requests to meet and come to some kind of arrangement.”

  Charles said, “Well, that one Rosetti was interested in—”

  “Let’s not count chickens before they hatch,” David interrupted. He slung his arm up behind his wife and rubbed the back of her neck lightly. She leaned into the touch and David made purposeful eye contact with Cooper. He might only be the money behind the venture, but he’d clearly spent enough time around wolves to pick up some of their more territorial gestures. “We should get back before Emily’s samples melt.”

  And that was all Cooper was going to get out of that. Eventually the Freemans dropped him off at a little grocery store so he could at least get cat food and litter while he waited.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay with you?” Emily said, examining him worriedly, as if only now noticing he was streaked with blood. “You don’t look very well.” Away from the distraction of the wolf tracks, she was a much more considerate person.

  “It’s fine,” Cooper said quickly, much more eager than before to take his chances in town on his own. He couldn’t imagine a worse way to first meet Park’s family than to be hanging with the people who were very likely running after them with tranquilizer guns. “I’m sure my friend isn’t far. Thanks again with everything and, uh, good luck!”

  The Freemans waved. In the back Charles just gave him a steady, contemplative look.

  Cooper shivered and watched them go before lugging Boogie and the two carry-ons inside. Annoyingly, he noticed himself limping. Though he’d been sitting for nearly the entire day, he was exhausted, his head was pounding and his healing leg was apparently the first body part to call it quits. He hoped there was somewhere to sit down for a bit and sort his head out. Maybe even a bathroom he could use to de-gore, but he wasn’t holding his breath.