Chapter 10

His name in her head refueled her anger. He was treating her as if she didn't know how to find the business end of a gun and couldn't apprehend a criminal. Becca was Navy and had been an MP for the last three years. That was her job, to apprehend criminals, and she was very good at it. Even her former partner who hadn't liked her had to admit that much.

Rolling her eyes, she got back out and shut the door behind her to head down the fence directly to the section she had seen in her mind's eye. The open hangar doors provided the light by which she saw the creatures. Just in case her timing was off, it would be better to have a second person waiting at the fence when they returned, or if they were yet to come.

Becca's jog was a practiced pace she could maintain for several miles without fatigue. A human's answer to the dogtrot wolves use to travel great distances. Her pace brought her to the desired section of fence within minutes. Practiced eyes scanned the line of chain link, searching for movement or a flash of fur. She had no way of knowing if she was looking for one or three coyotes.

There, up ahead, was movement. Becca ducked and froze, reaching under her jacket to remove her backup weapon, fearing the click from her sidearm holster might spook the creatures.

Something struck the dirt with a soft thump and Becca held her breath. The other two coyotes had returned and the last one approaching the fence dropped the purse-sized bag she saw in her vision. What was in it was unclear but being from the weapons supply, she would assume explosive was possible. She aimed high.

When all three were through and on the same side as her Becca rose, holding her gun at the ready. "Halt. Police."

The coyotes froze and it was hard for her not to laugh at the picture of three coyotes obeying human commands. Would they put their hands up?

"Drop the bag and step aside," she commanded, approaching them slowly. The one who dropped the bag still had the strap in his mouth, preparing to swing it back up toward himself. He was refusing to obey her orders. Becca repeated the command, the unmistakable sliding action of her gun cocking giving them further warning.

One of them, the one who had remained behind, gave a yip and the largest with the bag snarled back. The middle creature licked the big one's muzzle. Becca watched the interplay of pack and human behaviors, fascinated.

The bigger one gave a low growl as his only warning before tossing the bag to the smaller, Becca's mind said female, beside him and continued his spin until he was facing her again. He was staring directly into Becca's eyes, snarling his intent.

She stared back, amazed to be looking into such human brown eyes. It could have been her experience with the wolves that changed her perspective or it was her sight, she swore the others weren't aggressive. Only the largest was a threat. His snarl rattled out menacingly into an angry series of yip-like battle cries as he rushed her.

There was a small distance, less than ten yards, between them in which he wove and darted unpredictably, adding a dizzying spin twice before he changed direction again and ran around her back. Becca turned with him but he was faster. She lost him in the dark of the surrounding shadows. Heavy clouds covered the moon tonight. If she had been

able to find a flashlight among the supplies she would have been able to see. However, frustratingly, they hadn't had one and here she was facing a shape shifting coyote virtually blind.

Becca kept an eye darting back to the other two behind her and had to call for them to halt again, ordering them to lay down this time. Cautiously, she crab stepped toward them, splitting her attentions between the two she saw and the one she thought she had seen flickering through the shadows on her other side.

Reaching them, she stretched her arm down and put her hand on the bag beside the female. She whined and Becca looked at her face. Her expression was pleading. She feared for the male.

"I don't want to hurt him either, ma'am." She didn't question why it felt right to address her in that fashion. Somehow she sensed a maturity and wisdom about the female.

Throwing the strap over her chest like a messenger bag with its bulk twisted behind her, Becca removed her other weapon from its holster, bringing it to bear on the darkness to her right, the other remaining on the prone figures in front of her.

Her straining eyes caught a flash of movement running alongside her. She spun to track it, leaving her other side temporarily unguarded. The smallest of the three hopped up from the ground at her feet and rushed her, hitting her in her shoulder and knocking the gun from her grasp, bringing her hard to the ground.

As soon as she was down the coyotes were on her in a snarling, yipping, writhing mass. The large male came at her chest, mouth agape and she brought the butt of the gun still in the other hand down hard on the top of his head. Backing away, he shook his head and roared back to her. No longer cowed, the female worked with him and snatched at Becca's gun hand, holding the sleeve at the wrist. Becca's fingers tightened, the gun went off, and she heard a pained yip as her hand was liberated.

Freed, she trained the gun upon the large male now standing over her, tugging at the bag strap. The impact of the smaller animal when it threw itself at her neck in an attempt for her jugular was completely unexpected. Becca had underestimated the threat of the smaller creature. The injury to the female seemed to bring it to life.

Only the thick collar running the sides and back of her flack vest stopped the animal's teeth from penetrating her skin more than superficially. Training overtook conscious thought and the gun went up by her shoulder, the muzzle tucked under its throat where the bullet found its mark. Without hesitation her arm, wet with the spray of the animal's blood, whipped back to the larger creature. Shifting it away from his face, Becca pulled the trigger, landing a bullet in its side.

The sudden silence let her breathe, although it was not from relief. Around her lay three bodies, a quick check revealed they all still lived. Gauging by the lack of wheezing or

bloody bubbles, the smallest one's survival was nothing short of miraculous, the bullet having barely missed the windpipe.

Michael's arrival while she was checking the others caught her unawares. She'd forgotten he was here with her and realized he probably thought she sent him off on a fool's errand on purpose.

Michael had been hunkered down, waiting outside the warehouse where the theft was to occur when he heard the first shot. As soon as the familiar noise reached him, Michael took off at a dead run, his beast riding him to go faster. He arrived just after the third and saw Becca hunched over the form of a body with several others scattered nearby; she was seemingly unhurt. Michael could barely control his temper as he jumped the fence and stepped out into the partial light. He was furious with her for facing the shifters alone. Too angry to be impressed by her results.

"What do you mean by shooting on base? Don't you know you're going to bring security down on us?" he barked at her. Michael wasn't really concerned about the patrols Black would take care of any complications. His clout allowed them to do whatever they needed to succeed.

Her head flew up affording Michael a view of her distressed state before she carefully tucked it away. With great difficulty, he held himself in place. She was pale and obviously shaken by the fact that she harmed three creatures. It couldn't be helping her that they had now taken their human shapes and lay naked and bleeding all around her.

"I'm sorry," she snarled, her voice barely cracking, "but the only alternative was to let them eat me."

On cue, the sound of a siren accompanied by a set of headlights approached them fast. Becca continued to apply pressure to a neck wound on the teenaged shifter, bleeding profusely. Michael didn't move. He could hear all of their hearts beating strong and knew they would heal. Becca, however, was fearful she had just killed her first man. Her heart beat the fastest of them all. If they had time he would reassure her. They didn't.

The first one out of the car yelled for them to freeze and Becca shouted back they needed medics. Three wounded, one severely.

"Becca?" The second man hopped out from the driver's seat.

Her head jerked up again, the details of her features washed out in the glare of the lights. "Danny?" Was it two days ago she sat in the car with him? It felt like a lifetime since she'd seen her partner.

"What happened? Where did the shooter go?" He obviously trusted her; he had no question of Becca's innocence.

"Um," she looked down at the blood now slowing, staining her hands. "I don't know, I didn't see anyone else."

Michael felt his lips twitch in amusement. She told the honest truth. She was not a liar. Good to know.

"Can you call for an ambulance?" she asked again, shooting a quick inquiring glance at Michael.

He gave a barely perceptible nod of his head. The medics wouldn't have the bodies long enough to ascertain their differences. They couldn't shift with their injuries, given the fact that the rounds Becca shot them with contained a solution that would keep them in stasis until they were given the antidote. It was a silver solution, the supernatural equivalent of a stun setting. When on a more dangerous mission, Becca would carry the deadly version they otherwise kept locked up- pure silver. It was the only guaranteed killer for all supernatural creatures.

Danny nodded to his new partner who ran back to the vehicle to call in the request. Meanwhile, he strode toward the fence and locked his fingers on it.

"Becca, where'd you go? Terry said you had some sort of accident and then some guy," he gave Michael a curious once over, "took you out of the hospital. He's been checking. Nobody's willing to give up any particulars on whoever authorized it. No one's seen or heard from you since." Danny dropped his voice, trying to be private. "Terry's worried sick, Bec. So was I. You're not in any sort of trouble are you?"

She sat back on her haunches, fingers still pressed against the wound that had all but stopped, and felt very tired. With an exhausted sigh she pushed her hair back off her forehead with the back of her wrist, unwittingly leaving a thin blood smear on her pale skin. Terry. She hadn't thought about him since leaving the hospital.

"What are you doing working tonight? Weren't we on days through the month?" Becca diverted. By her count he shouldn't be on nights for another week.

He shook his head. "Remember? I switched with Glen tonight to have tomorrow off for the barbeque." He gestured with his head back at the car. "They gave me Martin since you were missing. No one said anything about it being weird you were gone."

"Oh, is that tomorrow?" Becca had completely forgotten.

"Actually, it's today now." Danny made a show of checking his watch.

The flashing lights of an approaching ambulance drew their attention and Becca watched them turn at the gate where they'd parked before redirecting back her way. Another followed close behind. Becca stepped back to let the medics take their charges. The teen went in one ambulance, the other two went together. All three were unconscious and naked. A detail not missed by the medics when they attended them.

Becca, seeing their curious expressions, commented simply, "Nudists." There was a beach that catered to their crowd not far from the base making Becca's statement not as farfetched as one might think. Some of the service men were all too willing to believe the nudists were as bad as hippies for protests and sabotage. That a few might have gotten too high and wandered off course wasn't a difficult fabrication to sell.

Michael's aloofness grated on Becca, not that she would look his direction, except she was as aware of his presence as she had been last night when he had been lying with her. For whatever reason, she was painfully aware of his proximity to her since the night they'd met. Maybe it had something to do with him saving her life, some sense of obligation. She pushed off the suspicion that it had something to do with the whole servant and master thing Black had been talking about. The distance and complete lack of help he was giving her now clarified that it was a one-way appreciation. Whatever his mixed signals had been, this one was clear.

Part of her was glad she had not accurately predicted the timing of the raid in her vision. Singlehandedly she had recovered the stolen property and stopped the three shifters. It was a reasonably admirable feat, not that the arrogant son of a bitch would admit it, she harrumphed to herself bitterly. Hopefully it would impress the admiral. He was really her ticket into the unit. Though whether she really wanted in with that crowd was in serious question.

After the wounded were loaded up and Becca was wiping her hands on the rag a medic had given her, she searched for her missing gun.

Danny regarded Michael with more than a hint of suspicion. "There's some paperwork I need to fill out. Why don't you go get your car and Becca can drive with us. It'll let us catch up."

Groaning, Becca considered running so she wouldn't have to spend another hour avoiding more specific questions from her partner while he filled out the lengthy paperwork she knew was necessary. And Danny's overt attempt at separating her from Michael proved he didn't trust him at all.

"You know we have to, Bec. You're a witness." Danny patted the fence and stepped away.

Michael reanimated, the suddenness of his voice making her jump. "Petty Officer Sauter and I will meet you at the office."

Trumped by rank, Danny couldn't disagree. "Fine." He eyed Michael with open distaste.

Danny's dislike for Michael was obvious and a surprise. Becca had never seen him react like that to anyone without being physically attacked first. She wondered if he came to that himself because of Michael's prickly exterior or if she was putting out a vibe he was picking up. Either way, she found it humorous and commented on it as her eyes picked out the solid shape of her Glock lying nearby. She grabbed it and they made their way briskly to the car.

Shrugging, he replied unconcerned, "Does it matter?"

Bristling, Becca broke into a jog. "It does to me. He's my partner and I trust his judgment. It's saved my skin more than once."

Michael let her pull ahead of him, letting her comment swirl around in his head. He hadn't thought about how dangerous her human job might be. He would like to know more about it and her partner.

A few humans were sensitive to his kind even if it was subconscious. They took an instant dislike to them whether they understood why or not. Danny might be an interesting complication.

What really bothered him was Danny's comment about Terry, and Becca's reaction. The comment had stopped her cold. She had been instantly upset at the mention of his name. Michael felt his rising jealousy picturing the arrogant human who had behaved so possessively toward the woman at the hospital. He had not treated her with respect but rather as something he owned. Snorting, Michael knew the human could not stop him if he wanted her. He stopped moving. Did he want her? Shaking it off as a lingering effect of having given her his blood and increasing his innate possessiveness. He kept it to a nearly human speed, in case anyone was watching, as he jogged to catch Becca already getting into the car.

She drove to the office, her assertion of power making Michael smile. He had to duck his head to hide it. Then his mood turned black upon arriving at the office. Becca parked, and he saw from the look on her face she had recognized the other car next to Danny's patrol car. Michael had smelled its owner through the open window.

Becca dragged her feet, a fact not lost on Michael. He stepped in front of her, entering the building first with Becca sluggishly drooping behind him.