Chapter Nine

She could look at Brian, and so she watched his eyes assess the wolves Shawn had brought like a general surveying his troops. His gaze settled on Michael.

Lauren looked, too, seeing what the Marrok saw: old jeans with a hole in one knee, tennis shoes that had seen better days. It was very much like what she was wearing, except that her hole was in her left knee, not the right.

“Will the time it takes to drive to Montana and back put your job at risk?” Brian asked. Thomas kept his eyes on his toes and answered, soft-voiced, “No, sir. I work in construction, and this is the slow season. I okayed it with the boss; he says I have two weeks.”

Brian pulled a checkbook out of his pocket, and using one of the other wolves’ shoulders to give him a solid surface to write on, made out a check. “This is for your expenses on this trip. We will figure out a pay rate and have money waiting for you when you get to Montana.”

Relief flashed in Michael’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

Brian went thr