The Shadows of Christmas Past

animal form and survive in the wild?"
    He threw back his head and laughed. "Modern kids? I don't think so. I meant what I said about their being lured out of hiding for Christmas presents and parties. Everything I told you about my methods of finding them is true." He tapped his long, elegant nose. "This is not much good in trying to track down my own kind."
    They sat across from each other in silence as Marj absorbed everything he'd told her. She couldn't help but believe that he was essentially telling her the truth. But she was still confused and suspicious.
    "What about Noel?" she asked. "What about the men who stole her? Why did they shoot you?
    What have you got to do with them?"
    "Not a damn thing" he answered. "I was just out for a run that night. The same way you were just coming home from a party." He hopped down from his perch on the shelf, stretched, and yawned, then held his hand out toward her. "Look at it this way: without those jokers, we never would have met. It's late. Let's go to bed."
    Marj considered how easy he was about continuing to fit into her life. What should she do?
    Tell him to go? Where, back to the Fennicks? To the motel in town? It was too late for him to go banging on either door.
    "There are four bedrooms in the house besides mine," she said, getting to her feet. "Go pick one while I lock the rifle back in the kennel."

chapter 11
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    "How does he think he's going to get those kids home?" Marj said as she rubbed the ears of Bailey, the bloodhound/beagle mix. They were long ears on his short body, and helped make him look silly, and funny, and cute. She couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to place him in a home yet—though she'd miss him when he was gone.
    She was going to miss Harry when he was gone, too. She missed him already.
    That was one of the reasons she was in the kennel, giving the animals some TLC. She had affection to give, and these lost, unwanted animals were quick to appreciate it. A more practical reason for spending time holding, petting, and playing with them was to socialize them, of course.
    But she wasn't feeling practical right now. She was upset, and being with the dogs and cats was comforting. She'd taken them out of the pens one by one for exercise and play. She was sitting on the concrete floor in the center of the kennel, with the excellent tracker Bailey on her lap.
    Marj had been worrying and wondering about Harry's dilemma since he left a couple hours ago. It was all very well and good for him to track the kids down to their lair, or commune, but then what?
    Not that it was any of her business, she supposed. She had her own worries, her own responsibilities.
    But—
    What was Harry going to do when he found those kids? Talk them down out of the mountains? Handcuff—or possibly leash—them? And what would being rounded up like that do after they were carted off home? Why, make them want to run away again, of course.

    "You can catch more flies with honey, can't you?" she asked Bailey, who was more interested in her continuing to scratch his belly than in inane questions from a human. "I bet those teenagers would rather have honey than lectures."
    An idea occurred to her, and she turned the dog back onto his feet. "Bailey, old boy," she said, thinking what she wanted at his doggie brain as she spoke. "Remember how you helped me find Harry's things before? You know his scent. He can't track werewolves, but you can.
    You and I are going to find Harry."
    But first she was going to go to Murphy's store to do a little shopping.

    "Hi, there "Marj said.
    Still in wolf form, Harry had heard her and the dog coming, but he'd kept his gaze on the shack, tent, and SUV occupying the hollow below this stand of trees. He was very glad that to be upwind of the hollow, especially when he became aware of the approaching human and dog.
    Since he couldn't do anything but growl or howl at her in his current form, Harry closed his eyes and willed himself back into his human shape. He could have used telepathy, but it was so much more satisfying to vent annoyance vocally.
    He turned his glance briefly to her when she came up beside him, and whispered, "What are you doing here?"
    She had a large pack hoisted on her back and was carrying a canvas bag. "Brought you some stuff, including some clothes," she said, looking over his naked form.
    It was cold up here, with an icy wind already cutting into his naked skin. His feet sank uncomfortably into