Secrets and Shadows by Shannon Delany Page A

hel ,” he said, finger moving to the trigger. “I don’t real y need a reason. And the paperwork a witness causes—”
    I screamed as the window at my side exploded. Colored shards and heavy cords of leading sprayed the room, the wolf landing on the man so fast I nearly missed it.
    A shot sounded, and Pietr had the man’s arm in his mouth, shaking it like I’d shake out a rag. The gun clattered to the ground and I grabbed it, turning it on my would-be kil er.
    “Pietr!” I shouted. “Let him go!”
    But the beast that was Pietr shook him harder. Joints popped, bones crunched. The man fel limp, his mangled arm stil in Pietr’s canine jaws.

    mangled arm stil in Pietr’s canine jaws.
    “Pietr!” I screamed. I pul ed the gun’s hammer back and fired a round into the ceiling.
    Plaster and dust sprinkled the wolf’s face and shoulders, freckling him with white. For a heartbeat I imagined the wolf standing stil and silent amidst snowfal .
    The wolf froze, watching as I clambered to my feet.
    “Drop him!” I commanded.
    He obeyed. Hesitantly.
    “We have to go.”
    The wolf quivered a moment and became Pietr, human and panting with effort, slick with sweat and speckled with plaster. Standing before me. Naked.
    Glancing away I rubbed at my eyes. Seeing my somewhat-boyfriend naked so often was bound to mean I needed to find my way back to some church to confess. “We have to go,” I repeated.
    Before I knew what was happening, Pietr passed me out the window, dropping me onto Max’s thickly furred back. Then Pietr leaped out, joining us, once again warm in his wolfskin.
    I glanced at the gaping hole where the smal basement window had been. The bricks torn away, each tugged free like a loose tooth ripped from a dusty mouth. “Why couldn’t you have thought of that sooner?”
    We slunk back to the car as an unmarked SUV pul ed up outside the church; two wel -dressed men carrying briefcases stepped up to the front doors to knock.
    The Rusakovas, human once more, slipped into their clothes as easily as I slipped the key out of my pocket and into the car’s door. I slumped into the backseat, flipping the key to Max and connecting my seat belt before curling into a bal .
    Cat’s hand stroked my hair like tongues of flame licking at my head. I closed my eyes, struggling not to think about the origins of the dark fur she cradled in her arms. Resting my forehead against the window as we sped away, I tried to lose my focus in the blur of streetlights and headlights.
    I dozed, a moment—maybe more—my sleep interrupted by disjointed words and the sense of eyes on me—Pietr’s eyes. Red and glaring one moment. Frightened the next.
    “Never again. Vwee pohnehmytyuh menya? ”
    “ Da ,” Cat whispered. “I understand, Pietr.”

    * * *
“I’ve got her.”
    A mumble of protest raised in response.
    “ Nyet , Cat. You did enough bringing her into this.” I had the strange sensation of being rocked and lifted, curled against a heater where a ticking clock raced. Wind pushed past me, snatching my hair and cooling my face.
    I opened my eyes briefly, catching a glimpse of the face I always longed to see waking and in my dreams. The set of the strong jaw, the raw power of his neck and shoulders …
    Pietr. Holding me.

    Curling tighter against him, I ignored the stinging wind, focusing on the clock ticking its life away so fast.
    Time was short. Life was uncertain. Every moment had to count.
    My window clicked shut, and I jerked upright in bed, staring. Perplexed.
    I shivered in my pajamas. What an odd dream. Nudging deeper under my covers, I noticed my clothes in a neat stack by my hamper, waiting for me to decide if I could wear them for farm chores in the morning.
    I lurched upright again. Because I never did that, even when I planned to. I blinked. Pajamas. Clothes in the wrong—wel , the right—place. Grabbing my pil ow to fluff it, I froze. A gun glittered there, bathed in the slender moonlight piercing my