Bad Blood by Shannon West Page B

that—stories and myths. There were those who talked of an ancient line of wolves in the far North, one whose bloodline had survived through ten long centuries, but no one really believed it could be true.
    Dire Wolves were said to be massively built, much larger than their own wolves, with shaggy gray fur and wicked fangs as long and wide as a man’s thumb. They lived and hunted in packs, just like modern-day wolves, and when they shifted to their human forms, they were huge and hulking, making up in brawn what they lacked in brains. These were the rumors, at least, though how a pack of ancient werewolves could possibly have existed so long without superior intelligence never made sense to Blaine. He hadn’t believed any of the stories, really, until the day Colby, his second in command, knocked on the door of his office, calling his name, his voice tinged with an anxiety he couldn’t hide.
    “Alpha, there’s something outside near the tree line that you need to see for yourself,” Colby said, running a big hand over his short blond hair. “Our scouts have been reporting strange tracks for over a week, but they’ve never been this close to the lodge before. We didn’t even know exactly what they are—they seem much too big for wolves. It could be some breed of bear, I suppose, but…”
    “Come on, Colby, surely you can tell the difference between a wolf’s print and a bear’s. They look nothing alike.” Blaine glanced up from his paperwork and smiled at his cousin.
    “Not normally, no, but if the print were degraded or smudged—look, maybe you need to come out from behind that desk and take a look at this.”
    Blaine smothered the flare of irritation he felt at the remark. Colby had been born an alpha too, so Blaine tried to cut him a lot of slack because of it. It was difficult for two alphas to co-exist in the same pack, especially since Colby thought he could run the pack more effectively than Blaine ever could.
    “Okay, but it’s probably nothing to be concerned over,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Like you said, probably just some kind of bear in the area. Something that traveled south along the Blue Ridge. It’ll move on again in a few days.”
    “I don’t know,” Colby said, shaking his head. “There are a lot of tracks, most of them headed back up the mountain, but some that got a little too close to the lodge. Almost as if something was watching us.”
    “Watching us?” Blaine smiled skeptically and shook his head. “Come on and show me. I’ve been working on the books all day anyway, and I need a good run.” Blaine and Colby walked outside, passing some of the children in the pack as they ran up the stairs. When they saw the alpha, they quickly slowed their feet and dropped their heads in acknowledgement. Blaine ruffled the hair of the nearest one as he passed. Like almost all of Blaine’s pack, including Blaine himself, the little boy had pale skin, blue eyes and golden hair.
    Once outside, Blaine glanced up at the sky. It was well past midday, almost three o’clock in the afternoon. All day the sun had played hide and seek among the puffy white and gray clouds. Thunder bumpers, they called them, and they meant that storms were on the way.
    November in the foothills of the Blue Ridge in Virginia could be both rainy and bitterly cold, and this one was proving to be no exception. October and November were the months black bears usually went into hibernation, and perhaps the tracks Colby and the scouts had been seeing belonged to a one that was still seeking shelter for the long winter months. Even though black bears usually avoided humans, it could be seeking food, and if so, it could be dangerous, especially to the children.
    Colby preceded him to the edge of the lawn, the area nearest the mountain. “Over here, Blaine.” Colby was bent over something on the ground right at the tree line, his mouth drawn down in a worried frown. “Look at the size of this