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cabins, her posture too erect to be casual, her face lifted slightly to the sky, her eyes closed. Already setting the wards. Ian’s people had scattered across the grounds surrounding the two neighboring cabins, their expressions full of focus.
    Not that there would likely be amulets seeded anywhere nearby when they’d only just arrived, but Mariska understood well enough that familiarizing themselves with the taste and energies of the area would make it possible to locate amulets should they be placed later—especially if they were of the new crop of silent amulets.
    Ruger, too, disembarked from the truck, standing much as Mariska had—scenting the air, visibly longing to indulge in his bear. Yesterday she’d seen him as tall and burly; she’d loved the curl of his hair, so obviously only tamed by the cut, and she’d loved the rugged nature of his beard. It had been all too easy to imagine the vigorous nature of their bodies joining...and it was all too easy to remember it now.
    But today she saw beyond the first impression, and realized how much of it was just that—an impression, driven by his very nature. Today she saw the masculine beauty of a body that was large and strong, but not overbuilt; today she saw that the beard had hidden the lean features of his face, long dimples carved into his cheeks, a jaw that was strong without going wide, and pale brown eyes shadowed by dark and expressive eyebrows.
    She realized her palms had gone damp, and surreptitiously wiped them along her thighs.
    Jet came out of the cabin in front of the truck, wearing nothing but a long T-shirt and a necklace of braided leather and gleaming metal. Her bare feet moved soundlessly over the ground, and she stopped before Mariska. “This is our cabin,” she said. “You, and me, and Ruger.” She glanced at the second cabin. “The others will stay together so they can talk amulet things.”
    Mariska winced inwardly—but of course she’d be housed with the man she was here to guard. “Thanks,” she said. “Going out already?”
    “To run,” Jet said with such longing that Mariska felt an immediate sympathy. It was one thing to keep her bear at bay when she’d grown up doing so, when she hadn’t even taken the bear until she was twelve. It was another to be born wolf and linger as human. Jet added, “And I want to check this land.”
    “Are those—” Mariska stopped herself from reaching to touch the metal-thick, satin disks with chunky edges that looked like a gift, but also looked like “—dog tags?”
    Jet laughed. “Wolf tags,” she said. “You can wear your special clothes and have them change with you. I run without.”
    Ian joined them from the other cabin, looking satisfied with the housing and satisfied with the inspection. “So you play pet, if someone comes on you?”
    “Not pet,” Jet said, and bared her teeth.
    Ian laughed and held up a defensive hand. “ We know that, darlin’,” he said. “But try not to scare the natives, okay?”
    “They won’t see me,” she assured him, and headed for the woods.
    “Ready to take a look around?” Ian asked Mariska. “We’re meeting Maks in half an hour.”
    Mariska looked over the hood of the truck to Ruger, who had come out of his reverie to head for the back of the truck. “Go ahead,” he said, grabbing the first three bags and easily slinging them from the truck. “It’s more important for you to check the place out. I’ll do my own recon when I get the chance.”
    She heard nothing in his voice but matter-of-fact practicality, but she winced a little inside anyway. And then, as Ruger’s shoulders filled the doorway, she wondered how they would both possibly fit into the same cabin, no matter how large it was.
    * * *
    Jet ran the woods. She ran as wolf, stretching her legs and lowering her head into the pure glory of it. Indulging in the hot, dry scent of the towering pines in the afternoon sun, the breeze ruffling her black fur...the silence in her