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walls that had absorbed too much tobacco smoke in years past. Another sniff told him that Sara was already here. So much for his plan to watch the area before she got here—it seemed she’d gotten the jump on him. He followed her winter-cold scent toward the back of the large bar.
    When he finally spotted her through a break in the crowd, his eyes narrowed as he stopped to observe.
    Sara was not alone.
    Two women flanked her at a table, looking ready for a girl’s night out in their skinny jeans and fashionable T-shirts. He scowled. What kind of wolf would send his women out to negotiate? The girl sitting to Sara’s right had caramel brown hair and dark eyes—she was pretty, with a sort of sun-kissed glow about her that implied she was accustomed to spending time outdoors. He could tell from her movements that she was wolf. She looked strong and self-assured, if a little young. Looks could be deceiving, but he’d put her at no more than thirty years old. Practically a pup. He huffed in disgust.
    The other woman had long white hair, but he couldn’t see her face from where he stood. An elder of the pack, perhaps? Her figure appeared to be that of a young woman, but again, looks could be deceiving with wolves. He huffed again. What the hell kind of pack was this? To send two females—an old woman and a pup—out with a shifter to negotiate with a leader from another pack? He was utterly disgusted.
    “Careful, big boy. You puff like that one more time, and you might blow the whole house down,” a rough feminine voice whispered from the vicinity of his elbow.
    Startled, he looked down at a tiny red-headed wolf at his side. Small and freckled and cute as a button, she was clearly not much more than a pup. By human standards, she was an adult, but he doubted she’d been old enough to buy her own beer for long. But what really got his goat was how he hadn’t noticed a fellow wolf approaching until she was at his side—that was unforgivable.
    “Oh, don’t be petulant. I’m sneaky.” She grinned up at him, her freckled nose wrinkling in mirth. “I’m Kathy, Jack. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my sisters.” She hooked an arm through his and towed him with startling exuberance toward the table where Sara sat between the two other wolves.
    As one, the two wolves looked at him. The brunette appeared wary, but calm. He saw as he approached that she was older than he originally thought. When the white haired woman’s eyes met his, her chin lifted defiantly, and his breath stopped. Albina . The word was an impossibility—one that stirred up myth, prophecy, religious zealotry. Albino wolves were rare and almost always were killed in infancy by superstitious packs. The brutality would shock most humans if they knew, but wolves were long lived, and it wasn’t something he’d even heard of in decades. He had never heard of an albino in North America before, but there she sat, staring him down. Her hair hung down around her shoulders in floating waves like white cotton candy. Her white eyebrows and lashes had been darkened with cosmetics, and the pinkish tinge to her eyes made them appear a pale lavender-gray. Her skin was as pale as her white hair, her face shining with a haughty fury. She was hauntingly lovely and terrifying all at once. He knew his astonishment must show on his face. His wolf prowled inside him, agitated and on alert. This woman was in danger; her very existence made her vulnerable. He felt a strong urge to go to her, spirit her away, and hide her from everyone else in the room. His protective instincts were in full force. He knew he was being rude, staring so blatantly, but he couldn’t help himself. Sara met his eyes and glared at him before tucking an arm around the Albina, whispering something in her ear. The Albina rolled her eyes and turned back to her drink as he approached.
    “That’s him,” Sara murmured. “Figures Kathy would go reel him in.”
    All three women looked at Jack, watching