I curse my office building for being so far from Kylie’s house. I want to shift immediately and run there, but I dare not waste precious time. I drive, hands nearly tearing the steering wheel in pieces. Two feds are sitting across the street in a van, staking out the house. I knock on the door of the van as I go by and walk up to the front door. I catch a variety of scents, human males. Nothing fresh. I walk around the house, wishing to fates I could shift, but I don’t dare. It’s okay. My human nose still works better than most other humans’ olfactory senses. I catch a whiff of Kylie at the back door. Her fresh scent. I try the handle and find it open.
Her scent is easy to follow—into a bedroom, but what terrifies me is the aroma of a human male. Not Stu—some other man. And gunpowder.
Fu
