Master of Smoke

inclined to anger and casual violence than Dire Wolves. And in the event anyone did get violent, she knew she could defend herself, since her werewolf nature made her strong even in human form.
    It was nice not being afraid.
    And it was interesting, watching the way humans interacted, watching them eat and talk and tell jokes. Learning how to pass for human was the whole point of getting this job.
    She had also created a whole new identity for herself, complete with school records, driver’s license, and a birth certificate in her new name. It hadn’t even been difficult. All she’d had to do was to go to the appropriate schools, the DMV, and the health department, then cast a spell or two on the right people.
    Magic made officials very helpful.
    So now she was Randi Crestfield, 28—she’d made herself a couple of years older than her actual age to make it more difficult for any of Warlock’s hackers to find her with a casual search. A trip to the beauty shop had turned her red curls into a sassy brunette bob, and colored contacts had given her the eyes to match.
    Of course, there was the possibility some Dire Wolf would catch her casting spells, realize who she was, and report her to Warlock. If that happened, she’d have to run like hell and start all over again. So Miranda had done everything she could to minimize the threat of discovery by picking a town that had no Dire Wolf population, at least according to the Southern Clans database she’d hacked into.
    Morgan, South Carolina did have a decent community college, though, and she’d already enrolled there for the fall semester in the Radiologic Technology program. She should be a certified X-ray tech in a couple of years.
    The medical field was ideal for her purposes. Werewolves avoided hospitals, since they could heal their own injuries and didn’t get sick. On the other hand, certain medical tests could draw attention to their magical differences. Miranda, however, could avoid that problem with a few judicious spells.
    So she had a future now, one which didn’t include rape or violence. She had an apartment and a used Honda Civic, having sold her father’s Lexus and its magically doctored car title. She’d become an ordinary human woman working her way through college.
    Life was good—as long as Warlock didn’t find her.
    But if he did find her ...
    Well. She just wouldn’t think about that.