Free Werewolf Moon (The Pack Trilogy Book 1) by Chanel Smith Page B

into English. “You must help us. Please.”
    “Where was Jean-Paul held?” Raya asked.
    “A facility on the other side of the lake,” Itchiko responded for the distraught Were. “I can take you there.”
    “That’s where we start, then. Whatever has to happen, this guy needs to stop shifting ASAP.” Raya stopped speaking, but every Were in the room heard his unspoken words: shifting took a certain amount of energy. Constant shifting meant a constant drain with no chance of replenishing supplies. No one knew what would happen if a Were was completely drained of his energy: as far as Raya knew, it had never happened.

That he or his pack were aware of, he amended silently.
    Time to visit a government facility now.
     
    ***
     
    Two hours later, the entire pack was assembled in Raya’s spacious suite. There was obvious tension in the air as Raya began to speak. “As you know, the facility or warehouse was empty. Utterly empty down to the packed-dirt floor.” Raya began pacing across the deep carpet. “Not sure where to go from here, but we need to find out exactly who held Jean-Paul, why, and used what drugs. Obviously we need this information yesterday. Does anyone have any ideas?”
    Petra heaved a sigh. “There’s always Uncle John.” Raya’s elegant nose actually wrinkled at the suggestion.
    “That has to be the worst—” Raya stopped at the warning plain in Petra’s eyes. Damnation, his alpha mate was right—as usual.
    Uncle John was a man in his sixties that Raya had met whilst applying for visas for the pack. John had accepted the Were’s applications, then flipped through them while Raya looked on.
    “Certainly come from a lot of different places,” John had remarked.
    “We’re a worldly bunch,” Raya agreed.
    John had come to the end of the small stack of papers, flipped it over and begun to read again from the beginning. Raya had been exasperated, but knew enough not to show it.
    After all, the American was dealing with papers from Wallachia, Germany, the UK and two other unpronounceable countries in Eastern Europe: such a group would draw the attention of any government employee. At last John slapped the papers down and looked into Raya’s eyes.
    “What y’all really up to in New Orleans?” Heavy set, John’s eyes appeared tiny behind folds of fat.
    “I’m building a beautiful compound for us here: it’s perfect! The weather is divine, the city is large enough to be cosmopolitan but not so large the crime rate is high, and the surrounding area is exquisite. We intend to put down roots here for ourselves and the Lupein Corporation.”
    Those small eyes sharpened. “Lupein Corporation? And what do you have to do with that particular enterprise?”
    “I created it,” Raya said.
    There was silence, then John said “If I’m to believe that, why come to America when you are doing so very well in the European market?”
    “The New World is going to be the most important business location in years to come. Lupein Corp will have a jump-start on the rest.”
    John rubbed his heavily-stubbled chin, evidence that a morning shave hadn’t lasted until nearly 7 at night. “Your board of directors,” he said at last. “Who is comptroller?”
    “Have to look that up,” Raya said. “Whoever’s doing it now is a good question. We all hate that job, so we rotate through it.”
    “I like a man with an eye to the future,” John said slowly. A business card appeared and was pushed under the glass divider separating him from Raya. “Me, I’ve had my own business for well on fifteen years now. Small accounting firm with some dang big clients. Whole reason I took this job…” he pulled himself up short and looked at Raya, one thick grey brow raised.
    “You wanted to be in a position to serve as go-between for major government contacts, and one day go out on your own,” Raya finished for him, eyes staring at nothing. “How handy would that be for an accounting firm run by a guy with