The Shadows of Christmas Past

then his lips brushed very gently across hers.
    She almost groaned in frustration when the brief contact ended.
    Out in the hallway, Taffy whined loudly. Harry got up and let the dog in, then leaned against the door frame.
    She remembered that he had that told her about Taffy's saving her last night. Funny thing was, she had no memory of taking Taffy to the kennel with her. Still, she hugged the dog when he jumped up on the bed and let him lick her face a few times. Before she could push the Lab away, Noel came in and jumped on the end of the bed. Taffy immediately stretched out beside the languid and imperious greyhound, his big pink tongue lolling foolishly.
    "He is so in love," Harry said.
    "I know—and he looks so stupid."
    "Yep. Love'll do that to a man."
    "To anyone."
    She and Harry shared a quick glance, then looked away even as sparks flew between them.

    Marj sat on the edge of the bed, while Harry crossed his arms, looking composed but for his tousled black hair. "I suppose I should thank you for last night…but what were you doing here?" she asked.
    "I came to talk to you about my case," he answered.
    "And finding the wolf?"
    He nodded. "How's your head? Alice wants you to go to a clinic."
    "I have chores."
    He smiled. "Already done. All creatures great and small have been fed, watered, and petted.
    You'll find I'm useful to have around."
    She eyed him critically, from his smiling, handsome face to his broad shoulders, lean hips, and farther down. She liked the scenery. "Coffee made?" she asked.
    "Not yet."
    "Well, then—"
    He turned toward the hall. "Take a shower. It'll be done by the time you're dressed."

    "What about that clinic visit?" Harry asked, when Marj joined him in the kitchen.
    She had one bruise in the middle of her forehead and another on her left temple. It infuriated him all over again to see her injuries; made him wish he'd bitten and clawed up her assailants.
    Sometimes he regretted that his kind imposed such restraints on their animal natures these days. Sometimes it was just no fun being a werewolf.
    Marj thanked him for the mug of coffee he offered and the plate of buttered toast. She looked good despite the bruises. Her auburn hair was still damp from the shower, and slicked back it revealed the angles of her heart-shaped face. He caught the warm, female scent of her, along with almonds and cinnamon from her soap and shampoo, and he thought he could spend the whole day breathing her in. Desire for her curled inside him.
    "I'm fine," she asserted, after taking a gulp of coffee.
    You sure are.
    "Are you sure?" he asked quickly.
    It was really odd, how their thoughts connected so easily. He wasn't used to this kind of connection with a human. Marj wasn't like anyone he'd ever met, shape-shifter or not. She did things to his emotions, made him want to protect her, almost as much as he wanted to make love to her.

    Have sex, he corrected. Lots of sex. The word love implied an emotional commitment he couldn't afford.
    Harry poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and sat down opposite her. He noticed that she was looking past him, and turned his head to see that she was looking at the battered and scratched-up back door.
    "Thinking of leaving?" he asked.
    Marj brought her gaze quickly back to his, and he caught a flicker of suspicion before she managed to mask it. "I have to get to my office soon." She ate a piece of toast.
    "You need a lot of help around here."
    "I have a part-time hand who comes in once a week. Except he took December off. And my vet tech quit. The local teenagers know I'll pay them for help."
    "Phil's mom told me that he used to do chores for you sometimes. He'd already left home when he was here in October with his friend."
    She absorbed this for a moment. "His friend's a runaway, too."
    He nodded. "I've traced a connection with Clark and four other missing teenagers to Phil Fennick. It looks like they hooked up in an Internet chat room and decided to run off and start a commune in the mountains around here."
    This was essentially the truth, leaving out the part about five of the kids being shapeshifters of one kind or another.
    She looked worried. "They're living up in the San Jagos in December?"
    He nodded. "From everything I've found out, that little mountain range is rugged, inaccessible, and exactly what this little back-to-nature group is looking for. They want an isolated, peaceful place to live together in harmony."
    "Do the authorities know about this?"
    "Of