Chapter Two
K
enzie took a plane to Seattle from Edmonton, where it had taken nearly two hours to get all her supplies and equipment through U.S. Customs. It was worth the wait to her. She preferred to bring as many of her own things as possible, the tools she was familiar with and the supplies that had been proven useful in many previous camps. The customs officer eyed her as he picked up each of her worn tools, the grips that had gradually assumed the shape of her own hand over time and been polished by her sweat. He no doubt thought she was eccentric for bringing what surely must look like junk to him. Was she even old enough to be eccentric?
Probably.
The thick gray clouds gradually cleared away as her second flight headed up the coastline to Alaska. Blue sky greeted her as the plane touched down at the Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage. Kenzie had been in many airports all over the world, but she’d never seen one decorated with stuffed wildlife before. A glass case housed a taxidermic polar bear that towered over the bustling passengers, raising its paws toward the enormous
Welcome to Alaska
sign. She counted a half dozen bears of various types, a deer, a beaver, and several geese, and marveled at a huge salmon and a 400-pound halibut. Exquisite native art was everywhere and one piece in particular caught her eye. It was a reproduction of a historic piece, a carved wooden wolf mask, painted with the traditional coastal colors of turquoise, red, and black. The pelt of a large white wolf was attached to it and Kenzie found herself wondering if a shaman had once donned one like it. Had he been enacting a ritual, trying to ensure a successful hunt? Had he worn it in hopes of transforming himself? Or had he hoped to gain the skill that some members of the Tahltan tribe were rumored to have—the ability to detect a shapeshifter in human form?
As an anthropologist and archaeologist, she was fascinated. As a Changeling, however, she was repelled—James was a white wolf in his lupine form, and she had a momentary flashback to her childhood. To the marketplace at Torridon and its stacks of pelts, both wolf and Changeling ...
She walked quickly away but came upon a glass case with taxidermic wolves. They were positioned stiffly with artificial snarls and plastic fangs.
Jeez, it’s definitely past time to leave this airport.
At the rental counter she flashed a worn membership card, signed forms and picked up her keys. The company had provided her with exactly what she’d ordered—a full-size pickup truck with four-wheel drive and a canopy to protect her gear. They didn’t usually keep such vehicles at their airport lot, but had brought it over from another site. She hadn’t specified color but noted with approval that it was a nondescript taupe. Or was it tan? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t show all of the dirt and dust it was about to collect.
Kenzie slid behind the wheel and closed the door, relishing the sudden quiet and relieved to be alone at last. She was itching to get on the road but it was far too late in the day for that. By the time she arrived in the area, she’d end up looking for her site in the dark, so she conceded to spend the night at a motel.
Luckily, the sun rose early this far north, and she was up and on the road by five with a steaming mocha in the cup holder. The first leg took her northeast along the Glenn Highway. It was July and summer ruled—the breeze was warm, the sky was hazy blue, the forests boasted a hundred different greens. And the mountains ... Kenzie found herself driving slower and slower, all but mesmerized by the stunning scenery. The gently rolling land of northern Alberta, especially the Peace River country where the town of Dunvegan had grown up, was beautiful, all the more so because it was dear to her heart. Yet it didn’t compare to Alaska’s raw wilderness and pointed peaks. Everything here was bigger, taller, grander somehow. Two of the massive snow-topped mountains on the horizon were actually active volcanoes but there was nothing except her guidebook to identify them as such—they were as high and jagged as the rest of the Wrangell range that marched along the horizon. She drank in the beauty but thought it was almost too much for one person. This caliber of scenery should be shared....
Wildlife crossed the road frequently, moose and deer and even grizzly, all unconcerned by the few vehicles and in no particular hurry. One giant silver-tipped bear sat down on the yellow line as if to rest, or maybe he just liked the heat of the pavement. Kenzie slowed to a stop long before she reached him and waited until he decided to amble off. He must have weighed a thousand pounds, but she wasn’t worried in the least, knowing that even grizzlies wouldn’t attack a Changeling.
Only humans did that.
The highway was punctuated by a series of small communities and she found herself unexpectedly missing the little town of Dunvegan. It was the only place she felt a sense of sanctuary. Maybe because her family had lived there on and off since they’d left Scotland. Maybe because the Pack was there, a kind of extended family, and there was relative safety in numbers. Birkie was there, her dearest friend. And as Birkie had often said, home was wherever the people you cared about were.
I should have stayed longer, I really should have.
Kenzie rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand—
—and had to swerve as a man leapt out from behind a truck at the side of the road, waving his arms.
Holy Jeez!
Quickly, she pulled over just ahead and jumped out, determined to give the stranger a piece of her mind. Her businesslike gait slowed a little as she got a better look at the white truck. There was a small flasher mounted on the roof—had she almost run over a state trooper? Her initial fury fizzled out like a wet firecracker.
Crap, crap, crap.
As she got closer, tweiot closhe insignia on the door gave her a little relief:
Alaska Department of Fish and Game
. It was somewhat better on the scale of offenses to nearly hit an
AD
FG officer than a trooper, wasn’t it?
She fervently hoped so.
The man in question rolled a tire from behind the truck, straightened up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thanks for stopping. Didn’t think you were going to.”
For a long moment, Kenzie couldn’t say a word. He was easily as tall as any of her brothers, lean like Culley and Devlin, yet his build was deceptive. He had power. It radiated from him effortlessly, naturally, as if he drew it from deep in the earth beneath his feet. Sure of himself, yet she detected no arrogance in the obsidian eyes that were studying her intently. Long strands of rich brown hair had worked themselves loose from where they’d been tied at the base of his neck. Kenzie had a sudden crazy urge to brush them back—and to let her hand linger.
“I—you scared the hell out of me!” she blurted.
The intensity of his gaze gave way as he laughed. “Sorry about that. I was trying to get this tire off and nearly missed you. Hasn’t been a vehicle by here in a while and the cell phone doesn’t work in this particular spot. Dead zone.”
“Don’t you have a radio?”
“Sure. I can radio my office in Glennallen loud and clear, no problem. But since I’m here, there’s no one to answer it. And the local garage only takes phone calls.” He balanced the tire against his leg and stuck out a large hand. “Josh Talarkoteen. Sorry about the dirt. I had to use the spare this morning already so I’m reduced to begging for a ride to town.”
“Kenzie Macleod.” Her hand was engulfed by his, but the sensation was more than pleasant. “Two flats in one day? That’s just cruel.”
“No, that’s just backcountry Alaska.”
She grinned then. Flat tires were also the stuff of backcountry Chile, backcountry Egypt and backcountry Oregon. “Sure, come on.” She led the way to her truck.
He rolled the tire behind her. “You’re not worried that I’m a serial killer? I can ride in the back, no problem.”
She turned and looked at him with amusement. He was much too tall for one thing. He’d practically have to fold himself in half to fit beneath the truck canopy. For another, humans were usually only dangerous in a group. A single human—even one with an official sidearm—wasn’t a match for a Changeling, even if she didn’t take on her wolfen form. She couldn’t say
that
, of course. “I have four older brothers who’ll hunt you down like a dog if you try anything.”
“Duly noted. I’ll be sure to control my tendencies, homicidal and otherwise.”
She flipped opened the canopy and yanked down the tailgate, began shoving gear to one side. He heaved the tire in and quickly brushed away the smudge of dirt it left on her sleeping bag.
“Going camping?”
“I work outdoors.”
“Me too, most of the time. I was just checking out a report of someone taking deer out of season. What is it you do?”
“Dig in the dirt. Archaeology, ancient history.”
“I’ve heard the National Park Service is doing some excavations in the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. That you?”
“Nope, completely different project. Aas t projend I work solo.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but looked like he was considering it as he got into the truck. She paused with her hand on the gearshift. “So what town are you going to?”
“Copper Center. We’re about 50 miles from Glennallen, so no point going back there since we’re more than halfway to Copper. How ’bout you?”
Copper Center?
That didn’t sound one bit familiar. Kenzie fumbled for her map, ran her finger over her planned route. It was true—she’d turned the wrong way at the intersection. “Dammit,” she said aloud. She’d been too busy thinking about other things, something which seemed to be happening with alarming frequency lately.
Josh ducked as she threw the map behind the seat without folding it. “I take it you hadn’t planned to visit the fair village of Copper?” he ventured.
“No. No, dammit, I turned right instead of left at the tee. I’m heading up near Chistochina.”
“Well, the tourism committee at Copper Center will be deeply disappointed. Myself, I’d be more than pleased to go back to the turnoff. I can call Frank’s Garage in Glennallen to come get me from there.”
“You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Frank’s a buddy of mine.”
She put the truck into drive, then swung a U-turn that a stuntman would be proud of. For a moment, he was glad he’d put on the seat belt. They settled into an easy pace, however, not
too
far above the speed limit, and he relaxed.
“So, you must be looking for old Ahtna stuff,” he ventured.
She looked over at him, and there was a quick punch to his senses as her eyes, silver gray with long thick lashes, met his. Her fair skin was tanned and her dark hair was naturally tousled into pleasant waves. Like she’d just gotten out of bed ...
“I’m looking for an Athabaskan fish camp north of Chistochina. The Ahtna tribe gave me permission to dig up along the river.”
“That’s pretty impressive. They don’t give permission to just anyone to dig on their ancestral lands.”
“I think a lot depends on how much respect you have for their culture. Plus they’re very concerned about preserving that culture.”
“True, especially after they’ve just signed a new oil exploration agreement. They don’t want any ancient history trampled. So why do you work alone?”
“Lots of people like to work alone.”
He should have paid attention to the defensive note in her voice. “Well, if you ever get tired of being alone and want to experience the nightlife at Glennallen, I’d—”
“Why is everyone and their dog so concerned about me being alone? First Connor gives me grief, then James, then my mother phones me—I’m doing just fine by myself, dammit, and I don’t need people worrying about my love life.” She put her hand to her head then, as if she had a headache. “I’m really sorry, it’s not your fault. I don’t know why I’m yelling at
you
.”
He wisely kept quiet for a whole minute before responding. “Family riding you pretty hard?”
“They mean well.”
“That makes it tougher sometimes. You should hear my aunts and my sisters start in on me. They think I should have a dozen kids by now.”
“They do?”verThey d
“Hell, yeah. It’s like some kind of crime against nature to be single at my age.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-two. And I know better than to ask yours.”
She glanced at him quickly as if startled. “Why is that?”
“Well, because you don’t go around asking women their age if you want to be popular,” he laughed.
“Oh. Oh, right.” She looked oddly relieved.
“So tell me about your dig. Why Chistochina?”
“I believe signs point to there having been a major settlement there.”
“Well, there’s still a settlement if you want to get technical. Most of the hundred or so folks who live in Chistochina and the surrounding area are Ahtna.”