The Wolf Marshal's Pack (U.S. Marshal Shifters 3)

Because you’re a weirdo with a Slinky, his mind contributed unhelpfully.

Aria said, “Detective Wynette said you hunt fugitives, right? You’re going to go after this Hebbert guy?”

Colby nodded. “Go after him, find him, and bring him in.”

“I like your confidence,” Ben Clarke said.

Colby shrugged. “It’s what I do, sir.”

“Hebbert...” Aria hesitated. “He’s dangerous. I mean, he’s really dangerous.”

“Why don’t you tell me about him?” Colby suggested, pulling out a chair for her and then one for himself. “Ms. Clarke, Mr. Clarke, would you mind taking Mattie out for a bit?”

If Eli Hebbert had said or done anything to Aria Clarke that she didn’t want her daughter hearing about—

Colby’s protective instincts had already been roused by the idea of this guy operating on his turf at all. They were infinitely stronger at the idea of Hebbert actually threatening his mate, with his mate’s child nearby.

He wasn’t going to let anything happen to any of them.

“Sure,” Ben Clarke said, giving Colby an approving glance that again reminded Colby of his dad. “We’ll take a stroll around the building together.”

“Stay inside,” Aria said immediately.

Ben tugged at his daughter’s ponytail, and somehow even Colby knew the gesture was an old, reassuring one. “We will. Scout’s honor.”

Ben and Doreen led their little granddaughter (now way closer to solving the Rubik’s Cube than Colby had ever gotten) out of the break room.

So here he was, alone with Aria Clarke, his favorite photographer and his destined mate.

Possibly a fellow werewolf.

Definitely the love of his life.

And definitely in danger.

4

Deputy US Marshal Colby Acton looked like he could have wandered in off a movie set. Aria tried to tell herself that what she felt was just a photographer’s appreciation of a stunning combination of colors and lines.

That could maybe excuse her gaze lingering on his startling cobalt blue eyes or even his long, leanly muscled body, but even artistic license couldn’t explain why she was so acutely aware of the scent of his cologne. There was something foggy and primal to it, like the smell of a building thunderstorm.

That thought was like a dash of cold water. It reminded her too much of what her day had been like before everything had gone wrong.

Her fingers tightened involuntarily on her camera bag.

Unbelievably, the cops had taken her word for it when she’d said she hadn’t been able to snap a photo of Eli Hebbert. They had let her ID him off their photos, and nobody had asked to double-check her camera.

Thank God. She had no idea how she would have explained the wolves.

She’d decided at the last minute not to bring them up at all when she’d made her report. What was she supposed to say, that she’d seen a werewolf? Possibly three werewolves? Even if she’d fudged it a little and said that Eli Hebbert had been walking around with some pet wolves, it probably would have been enough to get her kicked right back through the door. It was too crazy.

People would believe she’d seen wolves in the nature preserve. They’d also believe she’d seen a criminal in the nature preserve.

But that was an either/or situation. You only got one crazy thing per story.

Scary fugitive with wolves? Sorry, Ms. Clarke, and don’t let the door hit you on your way out.

Now, of course, she was stuck sitting in this police station, knowing that right there in the camera on her lap was evidence that the real story was way more complicated than she’d led anyone to believe. It made her nervous.