Free 2 Blood Trail by Tanya Huff Page B

make out the smile on his face.
    “Too late,” he told her, and opened the door.
    Vicki’s first impression as she stood blinking on the threshold was of a comfortably shabby farmhouse kitchen seething with people and dogs. Her second impression corrected the first: Seething with wer. The people are dogs. Wolves. Oh, hell.
     
    It was late, nearly eleven. Celluci leaned back in his chair and stared at the one remaining piece of paper on his desk. The Alan Margot case had been wrapped up in record time and he could leave it now to begin its ponderous progress through the courts. Which left him free to attend to a small bit of unfinished business.
    Henry Fitzroy.
    Something about the man just didn’t ring right and Celluci had every intention of finding out what that was. He scooped up the piece of paper, blank except for the name printed in heavy block letters across the top, folded it twice, and placed it neatly in his wallet. Tomorrow he’d run the standard searches on Mr. Fitzroy and if they turned up nothing. . . . His smile was predatory as he stood. If they turned up nothing, there were ways to delve deeper.
    Some might call what he planned a misuse of authority. Detective-Sergeant Michael Celluci called it looking out for a friend.

Four
    “I’m Nadine Heerkens-Wells. You must be Vicki Nelson.”
    The woman approaching, hand held out, shared a number of features with Peter and Rose; the same wide-spaced eyes and pointy face, the same thick mane of hair—in this case a dusty black marked with gray—the same short-fingered, heavily callused grip.
    Her eyes, however, were shadowed, and lurking behind that shadow was a loss so deep, so intense, that it couldn’t be completely hidden and might never be completely erased. Vicki swallowed hard, surprised by the strength of her reaction to the other woman’s pain.
    On the surface, Vicki had absolutely no doubt she faced the person in charge, and Nadine’s expression proved that the welcoming smile had originally developed out of a warning snarl. Still, I suppose she has no reason to trust me right off, regardless of what Henry’s told her . Keeping her own expression politely unchallenging, Vicki carefully applied as much force to the handshake as she received, despite the sudden inexplicable urge to test her strength. “I hope I’ll be able to help,” she said in her public service voice, meeting the other woman’s gaze squarely.
    Force of personality weighted with grief struck her almost a physical blow and her own eyes narrowed in response.
    The surrounding wer waited quietly for the dominant female’s decision. Henry stood to one side and watched, brows drawn down in a worried frown. For Vicki to work effectively, the two women had to accept one another as equals, whether they liked it or not.
    Nadine’s eyes were brown, with a golden sunburst around the pupil. Deep lines bracketed the corners and her lids looked bruised.
    I can take her , Vicki realized. I’m younger, stronger. I’m . . . out of my mind . She forced the muscles of her face to relax, denying the awareness of power. “I hadn’t realized London was so far from Toronto,” she remarked conversationally, as though the room were not awash with undercurrents of tension.
    “You must be tired from your long drive,” Nadine returned, and only Vicki saw the acknowledgment of what had just passed between them. “Come in and sit down.”
    Then they both looked away.
    At that signal, Vicki and Henry found themselves surrounded by hearty handshakes and wet noses and hustled into seats at the huge kitchen table. Henry wondered if Vicki realized that she’d just been accepted as a kind of auxiliary member of the pack, much as he was himself. He’d spent long hours on the phone the last two nights arguing for that acceptance, convincing Nadine that from outside the pack Vicki would have little chance of finding the killer, that Vicki would no more betray the pack than she’d betray him, knowing