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Some werewolf, obviously with his head up his ass, had decided 22
    Living Extinct
    their agents worked better if informed of the details once they arrived on location.
    Supposedly this kept their emotions from being smelled and kept them from bolting when sent into what was often a suicide mission.
    She doubted very much that it was to get laid. But she was about to find out.
    Her hands shook from too much adrenaline pumping through her as she looked around the simple one-room cabin. There was no light switch, no indication of power at all. Blackness surrounded her, while a cold, morgue-like sensation crawled over her flesh. Her heart already pounded in her chest, her nerves overexcited and anxious, but she gave the rush of energy inside her new direction. Focusing on controlling the change, she allowed her eyes to adjust enough to see in the darkness.
    A single bed on one side with a sink and small refrigerator and stove on the other were the basic amenities. A card table stood in the middle of the room. She stared at the new-looking black suitcase. A laptop, hopefully charged, had been left for her compliments of GWAR.
    “Okay, let’s find out who you are and if you’re the reason I’m here.” Moira flipped the laptop open.
    At the same time the smell of a male werewolf attacked her. Rich and spicy—and so damned strong a cub would pick up his scent.
    She froze. Any human would have heard her heartbeat. It pounded so loud.
    Gritting her teeth, she fumbled with the disc, working to slide it into the computer after booting it up. The urge to pounce, yank open the door to the cabin and attack whatever was out there sent her thoughts into a whirlwind that took some effort to control. She tapped at the keys, waiting for the file to open.
    Damn GWAR for not giving her time or information to prepare for this mission.
    The male neared the cabin, his scent growing, filling her, creeping over her skin and sinking into her pores. Her breath caught in her throat. She smelled his determination.
    The werewolf in the woods had closed in on her. And he’d moved silently and quickly.
    All the power she’d sensed, his raw, intense energy, didn’t add up as to why he tried so hard to sneak up on her. He had to know she was alone. He would know she was a female. Most male werewolves would come storming in, making demands before they bothered with introductions.
    A menu finally appeared on the screen.
    “I’m here to chase down common thieves? Three of them?” she mouthed, not daring to speak out loud.
    There was no way the werewolf who’d haunted her dreams and filled her lusty imagination was nothing more than a common thief. Sniffing the air and inhaling his scent so deeply she swore he stood right next to her, she glanced around the dark room.
    It glowed an eerie pale blue from the light of the monitor. She turned her attention back to the screen, reading quickly while every inch of her throbbed with anticipation.
    23
    Lorie O’Clare
    Two GWAR agents were stationed on the mountain—her and one other a mile from her. Their assignment was to track and capture three criminal werewolves who’d managed to slip through Werewolf Affairs’ fingers.
    A trickle of sweat dripped between her breasts. Exhaling, she fought nervous excitement that washed over her body. Every nerve ending heightened, her pulse taking off in a rapid beat. Raw power, barely tamed, seeped through the cabin walls. It excited and scared the hell out of her.
    A crack of wood popped like a spark from a fire. That was her only warning before the door to the cabin swung open. Even in the dark, his pale eyes glowed, capturing her attention before she was able to take in his large physique.
    “We meet again,” he said in a disturbingly familiar tone.
    “Do we?” she asked without thinking, taking in his scent before dwelling on his physical appearance.
    He was a large man, well-built, with shiny black hair and creamy white skin. In a simple black shirt and jeans,