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Jennings remembers to have one of the techies check out her computer.
    Jennings was pretty smart — for a wolf, that is — but his computer skills were that of a first grader. A Syak first grader.
    There was no dedication in the book, no declaration of love to a husband, no heartfelt thank-you to her parents, no mention that this would be a trilogy because she had a couple of kids to put through college. Good. The thought of one day being ordered to kill a child made her skin itch in outrage. As a saru, she had done a few things she wasn't proud of, but that was one line that she wasn't willing to cross.
    Or maybe she does have a family and she just wants to protect her privacy. The biography read as if the writer didn't want her readers to know anything about her. Griffin could understand that. I want my work to speak for itself too, without having people assume things because of what they have heard about me or because of who my parents are.
    She scrolled through the story, skimming scenes, knowing she didn't have enough time on the domestic flight to read it all. A few glimpses would have to do.
    The writing was solid, with interesting characters, witty dialogue, and a well-written love scene. If you're interested in hetero sex, that is, Griffin thought.
    The book was decent entertainment, but it was teeming with all the common stereotypes and Hollywood myths about vampires. J.W. Price's characters were drinking blood and sleeping in coffins. Sunlight and a stake through the heart killed them, and holy water and crucifixes made them run for the hills. They even talked with an Eastern European accent that made Griffin laugh and was probably meant to do just that.
    Griffin found it hard to believe that the shape-shifter novel would be any different. I'll bet her shape-shifters are immortal creatures that turn into furry monsters once a month and can be killed only by silver bullets. She was almost sure that the writer would turn out to be harmless. Relief wrestled with a healthy portion of annoyance. Kylin, I'll hunt you down and kill you if this is just one of your attempts to get me to reconnect with the family.
    The "fasten seat belt" sign came on. Griffin swallowed the last crumb of her third sandwich and stuffed the snack boxes into her laptop case for later. She had a feeling she would need the energy to complete this annoying mission.
    *  *  *
     
    Flying. He hated flying.
    There's a reason why there are no bird-shifters, Cedric grumbled to himself. Being so high up in the air and moving at such speed played havoc with his sharp senses. But he had to admit that traveling human-style was efficient, and he was a soldier, so he focused on the task at hand.
    Not that there was much to do. He had read through the information on Allison DeLuca twice. It was a short read. Allison was in her midforties and worked as a program manager for a software company that developed word-processing software suited for Wrasa eyesight. She belonged to the Los Angeles pack and had never been on the Saru's radar before. Nothing interesting about her.
    Cedric knew how to handle her. If he treated her like the submissive she was, he would get the information he was after. Getting past Allison's alpha would be harder.
    "Can I get you anything, sir?" A flight attendant directed a phony smile at him.
    Cedric's lips didn't form an answering smile. He had never felt the need to mimic human behavior. When he showed someone his teeth, no one would mistake it for a friendly greeting. "Food," he said and looked back down at the report on his knees, dismissing the flight attendant.
    The scent of confusion drifted over.
    Humans. He suppressed a growl. They were confused so easily.
    "Um. Anything in particular?" the flight attendant asked.
    Unlike the cat-shifters under his command, he didn't care. Food was food. He didn't need that gourmet stuff Griffin was so fond of. As long as it stopped his stomach from growling like an entire Syak pack, it was