Finding the Texas Wolf Read online

  The Shadow Agency is on the case...

  Investigator—and werewolf—Maggie Kinslow is used to uncovering secrets, but reporter Jake Cassell’s hoping to prove shapeshifters exist. To protect her kind, she must distract him...and keep their attraction from burning out of control!

  Vampire Carmen Vargas must stop a terrorist group from unleashing a virus. Being undead makes her the perfect undercover operative, but her growing feelings for her handler, Rick Fallin, could endanger millions.

  “Wow,” he said, scratching his head. “How did we go from proving the existence of a mythical creature to worrying about protecting them?”

  “Because, Jake, you have to think ahead to the consequences of your actions.” Her green eyes were full of passion and he could see her pulse beating furiously in the hollow of her throat.

  “Consequences,” he muttered. Though he was sore, bruised and battered, he reached up and cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her. Slowly and thoroughly, exactly the way he’d been wanting to do since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  He kissed her until she kissed him back, until she shivered. When her arms came up around his neck and she clung to him as if she wanted more, he gently broke off the kiss. Breathing hard, he let his forehead rest against hers. “You’re something else, Maddie Kinslow. I’ve never met a woman like you.”

  Karen Whiddon started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering. You can email Karen at [email protected]. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com.

  Books by Karen Whiddon

  Harlequin Nocturne

  The Shadow Agency

  The Texas Shifter’s Mate

  Finding the Texas Wolf

  The Pack Series

  Wolf Whisperer

  The Wolf Princess

  The Wolf Prince

  Lone Wolf

  The Lost Wolf’s Destiny

  The Wolf Siren

  Shades of the Wolf

  Billionaire Wolf

  A Hunter Under the Mistletoe (with Addison Fox)

  Her Guardian Shifter

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  FINDING THE TEXAS WOLF

  Karen Whiddon

  Dear Reader,

  Finding the Texas Wolf was originally supposed to be two separate books, each couple with their own story. They were part of a trilogy I called The Shadow Agency. When Harlequin Nocturne ended (or will end at the close of 2018), they ended up merged into one.

  Writing two separate yet intertwined stories all in one was a challenge, but a fun one. I enjoyed the mix of shapeshifter and vampire and human. The love between each couple shines through, and the suspense thread kept things interesting. Galveston is always a fun place to write about, as well.

  The first book of The Shadow Agency, The Texas Shifter’s Mate, was out in January 2018.

  I was the second author to write for Harlequin Nocturne when it first started, and this is my final book for the line. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed getting to explore paranormal themes, and my The Pack series was one of its longest-running series. If you enjoy my writing, you can find me still writing Harlequin Romantic Suspense books.

  Thank you for reading!

  Karen Whiddon

  To all my “family” not related by blood ties. You know who you are, always offering help or a smile or a shoulder to cry on. Many of you are my friends, but oh so much more than that. I appreciate you, I love you and I’m grateful you’re in my life.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Excerpt from The Billionaire Werewolf’s Princess by Michele Hauf

  Chapter 1

  The heavy oak door, scarred and weathered, looked like something out of a medieval castle. Above, a simple sign. No words, just a rusted iron bar from which hung two chain links, each half of what had once been whole. There were no lanterns, not even a streetlight to illuminate the shadows. The entrance sat near the end of a dead-end alley, innocuous enough that no soul, human or otherwise, would give it a second glance. Unless, of course, one knew what lay inside.

  Maddie Kinslow usually preferred to take her time. Her slow and steady approach, sometimes viewed by others as reticence, enabled her to take full notice of her surroundings. When in her human form, her eyes were her primary tool, and when she shape-shifted into her wolf form, her nose took precedence over her other senses.

  Tonight, with the moon a perfect sliver in the cloudless sky, she walked a little faster than normal, intent on reaching the dead-end alley that led to Broken Chains, the Galveston bar where only others of similar ilk were welcome. She, along with two of her best friends, had recently formed The Shadow Agency, a private investigative firm catering exclusively to Shape-shifters, Vampires and Merfolk. They’d recently successfully closed their first case and she’d gotten a lead that someone might be in the bar tonight who wanted to set up a meeting about becoming their second client.

  Since Maddie lived and breathed her goal of making The Shadow Agency a success, her eagerness to meet with this individual had her practically running.

  Until she stumbled over the bloody and beaten man halfway up the alley.

  She tripped, caught completely by surprise, screamed once and fell. Right on top of the unfortunate human, who let out a guttural groan.

  Naturally, she scrambled up, away from him. “What happened to you?” she asked, not even sure he could answer her. He appeared to have been on the losing side of a run-in with a semi truck. Digging her phone from her pocket, she realized she couldn’t call 911. Not from here, so close to the unmarked door. By spell or by due vigilance, it would never open, not for humans and not without potential death. To be safe and prevent any unnecessary curiosity, she needed to get this poor man out of the alley.

  “I was beat up,” he said, his voice clear, despite the fact that his lip had been split. “Two big guys.”

  “Were you robbed?”

  “No.”

  She watched in disbelief as he managed to heave himself off the ground to his feet. With one eye swollen shut, he squinted at her with the other.

  “They went in there,” he said, pointing at Broken Chains’ unmarked door.

  Heart pounding, she shook her head. “In where? There’s nothing around here but some old abandoned warehouses.”

  “Lady, come on.” He swayed slightly as he took a step toward her. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve been watching this place. I’ve seen you here before. What I want to know is what’s going on behind that door? People come and go all night. I don’t know what they do to get inside, but they do. I’ve tried, but no one will let me in.”

  He had no idea what kind of danger he’d place
d himself in. A human, trying to gain entrance to Broken Chains? Now she understood. A couple of the bouncers must have taken exception to him pestering them. In light of that, he was lucky he’d only been beaten rather than killed.

  “You need to go somewhere else.” She didn’t even bother to try to hide the urgency in her voice. “It’s not safe here for you. Go away and forget you ever saw this door.”

  Judging from the way he perked up, her heartfelt warning only made him more determined to stay. She eyed him—as far as human males went, he looked tough, with his broad shoulders and muscular build. But even the most fit human had no hope of fighting back against a Shape-shifter or Vamp. Both had power reserves of at least ten times those of any human.

  Which explained why this guy’s swollen face made his features unrecognizable.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He crossed his arms, exposing purpling bruises and several small cuts that still oozed blood. In addition to the split lip and black eye, and judging from the multiple bruises and swelling, he’d been pummeled. Again, lucky to be alive, even if he didn’t get that. “My name is Jake Cassel. I’m an investigative reporter.”

  “You can barely stand,” she pointed out. “I’d think you’d want to get yourself some medical assistance.”

  “Good idea. I’ll dial 911 and when the paramedics arrive, I’ll ask for them to also send cops. I’m sure they can find out what’s behind that door.”

  Exactly the situation she hoped to avoid.

  “It’s not safe for you here,” she reiterated. “How about I walk you to my car and drive you to the ER?”

  Her offer appeared to confuse him. “What? Why? You don’t know me. What if I turn out to be a predator? You’ll be alone with me.”

  Of course she had no answer for that. She wasn’t about to tell him that as a full-blooded Shifter she knew she’d be safe. “I’ll be fine,” she finally replied. “I might even be willing to tell you what I know of that door.”

  That finally got his attention. “Seriously?”

  “You sound skeptical. I don’t blame you.” Somehow, she managed to keep herself from glancing at the still-closed door. “But I should also let you know that I expect those guys to come back at any moment.” And she did. “If they attack you again, which they will if they find you still here, they’ll kill you this time.”

  While she had no idea if he believed her or not, he shuffled forward. “Give me your word,” he demanded. “Give me your word that you’ll tell me the truth about that door.”

  “I’m Maddie Kinslow. You have my word.” And she would tell him. Because one thing she’d learned was to be very specific when relaying what one wanted. This human had asked for information about one item only—the door. She knew where it had come from, when it was installed, what kind of wood it had been made of and how often it was painted.

  And a careful reciting of those facts was exactly what he’d get.

  Driving as fast as she could without breaking the speed limit, Maddie soon pulled up in front of the ER at UTMB Health John Sealy Hospital. Despite his best efforts to remain alert, her passenger lost consciousness before they arrived. Well aware of how these human hospitals worked, she hoped Jake Cassel had his ID and an insurance card on him.

  After leaving him in the car, she rushed inside and up to the triage window. “I found a man beaten on the sidewalk,” she said. “He wouldn’t let me call for an ambulance, but he allowed me to drive him here. He’s outside in my car, now unconscious. I need help getting him inside.”

  If she expected a medical team to jump into action like they did on TV, she was wrong. The nurse simply nodded and told her she’d send someone out with a wheelchair in just a moment.

  Eventually, after what felt like an eternity but was in fact four minutes, an orderly appeared with a wheelchair. She led the way out the double doors to where she’d left her car parked, with the injured human in the front seat.

  But the front seat was empty.

  Cursing under her breath, she spun around. “He couldn’t have gone far,” she promised. “He was pretty beat up. And he lost consciousness on the way here.”

  The orderly squinted at her. “Okay,” he said. “Come and get me when you find him.” And he turned to head back into the hospital.

  He had a point. There really wasn’t anywhere to hide. The helipad sat behind a metal rail, and the tall palm trees dotting the landscape didn’t provide much in the way of shelter.

  “Wait,” she ordered, stopping the orderly in his tracks. “The man can barely walk. I was inside for under five minutes. He really can’t have gone far.”

  “Is that him?” He pointed to the covered bus stop near the road.

  A lone figure sat on the bench. A quick calculation revealed that maybe, just maybe, Jake Cassel could have made it to there.

  “I think so,” she said, letting her excitement show in her voice. “He’s wearing the same color shirt. Come on, help me go get him.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.” The orderly appeared apologetic. “I’m not allowed to leave the ER grounds.”

  Of course he wasn’t. The way this day was going, she’d begun to wish she’d never set eyes on the beat-up human. “May I borrow the wheelchair?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” Clearly wavering, he looked uncomfortable. “I’ll get in trouble if you steal it.”

  “I won’t,” she assured him. “I just need to retrieve that patient.”

  “I think you might be too late,” he said, pointing. “The bus is coming. Your guy might not be able to walk too well, but he apparently doesn’t want to go to the ER. I’m guessing he’s getting on the bus.”

  Calculating, she knew even if she started running, she’d never make it in time. Instead, she watched as the bus pulled up and as Jake, doubled over in pain, managed to climb on board.

  Cursing, she turned and sprinted back to her car instead. She knew the bus would continue down Avenue D to 22nd Street, where he’d have to get off and switch buses or ride back to the hospital. She planned to be there either way.

  Because what he’d done didn’t make sense. Jake Cassel had been severely beaten. He needed X-rays and possibly stitches, definitely pain meds. He wouldn’t have fled unless he had something to hide.

  And Maddie had never been able to resist uncovering the answer to a good puzzle. The trait was what made her such a doggedly good PI.

  She managed to catch up to the bus after its first stop. She watched as the two elderly women who’d gotten off slowly crossed the street.

  Next up would be the 9th Street stop. The bus slowed, but continued on. It made several more stops, but he didn’t disembark. Finally, at 22nd Street, it turned into the new downtown terminal. Her heart sank. If he got off in a crowd, she’d never be able to tell if he got on a different bus. She could only hope his slow and painful movements would help her locate him.

  As she drove past the terminal entrance, her luck held. There. Jake. Arms still wrapped around what had to be an aching middle, he shuffled down the sidewalk as the bus rumbled off.

  Where could he be headed? If he’d driven to Broken Chains and parked, his car was in the opposite direction. It would have been much easier to reach from the hospital. Perhaps he had friends in this area or, even better, lived nearby himself.

  Instead of immediately confronting him, she decided to follow him and see where he went. She hoped his destination would give her some answers.

  She got caught at a streetlight. While she waited, she kept her eyes on him, aware that at his pace he wouldn’t be able to get too far ahead of her. There were only two cars coming from the cross street. One continued past, but the second—an older model black Lincoln with dark, tinted windows—pulled up alongside him.

  Jake lifted his hand in greeting and carefully got in.

  The Lincoln took off, past City Hall, making a left on Avenue M. It disappeared in traffic before her light changed. Though she drove as fast as she could, by the time she got to heavil
y congested Seawall Boulevard, she had to concede that he’d lost her.

  Worse, she realized she’d stood up Carmen. They’d agreed to meet at Broken Chains to discuss strategy for their next Shadow Agency case. Maybe she wasn’t too late. She swung the car around and headed toward Harborside Drive. Most likely, Carmen was still there.

  * * *

  Earlier that night, when he’d been in the alleyway by the door that wouldn’t open, Jake Cassel hadn’t seen the two large men until he turned and saw them right behind him. Since the alley was a dead end, they must have come through that door. He cursed silently, moving aside to get out of their way.

  But instead of pushing past him, they stopped. Too late, he saw the anger in their faces. Hostility radiated from the jerky way they moved to their clenched fists.

  “I mean no harm,” he began, about to offer them his wallet and his watch, whatever they wanted. But when one of them punched him, followed by the other, raining down blows so swiftly he barely saw them move, he realized this was not a mugging. No, this was a beating, and he’d be damn lucky to survive.

  Though he could hold his own in a fair fight, not only was this two against one, but they were built like linebackers. So he curled himself into a defensive ball and tried not to make a sound, hoping eventually they’d leave him for dead and he wouldn’t be.

  The next thing he knew, the redheaded woman was tripping over him. She let out a little scream as she fell, the sound letting him know he’d somehow survived. He must have lost consciousness, because the last thing he remembered before that was the two men whaling on him. They’d even gotten in a couple of kicks, catching him right in the ribs.