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what the werewolf truly wanted. And judging by the way it bared razor sharp teeth, it was done waiting for him to move.
    The man took aim at the werewolf again.
    Unlike last night, t he beast wasn’t running away. It was charging.
    The rifle jammed. There was an hollow click when the man pulled the trigger. He only had time to clear the chamber before the werewolf pounced.
    Logan dove out of the way to avoid being crushed as they slammed into the ground. He turned to see the werewolf snapping furiously at the man’s face, its teeth clamping down on the long barrel of the rifle.
    Before he could whip out his knife, the man rolled to pin the werewolf. In a blur of motion, he yanked the rifle from between the beast’s teeth, put the barrel to its chest, and pulled the trigger. The recoil and the buck of the werewolf knocked him off balance. He fell to the side, panting heavily.
    “What the hell was that?” Logan finally got out, rising to his feet .
    The man swallowed, gla ncing at his kill. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Three
     
    “Do you realize what you just did?” Logan couldn’t be certain if the man knew anything about werewolves. The first time he’d revealed their existence to someone, he’d ended up at the wrong end of his own rifle.
    “I didn’t hit my head that hard. Looks to me like I just saved you from a werewolf.” A smile graced the man’s features as he slowly rose to his feet and handed over the weapon. “I’m a prowler. Like you, apparently.” He held out his hand. “Vincent Thompson.”
    Logan stared at the offered hand for a moment, wary of accepting it. But another glance at the werewolf settled it. Vincent had saved his life.
    He shook it, his grip firm. “Logan Bennett.”
    “ Always intrigued to meet someone from the Society. Sorry to rob you of the kill. They didn’t inform me that we already had a man up here.”
    “No worries. I just radio ed in this morning.”
    “ What brought you here?”
    Logan shrugged , sizing him up. “I was in the area.” His eyebrows knitted when he noticed a patch of blood low on Vincent’s shirt. “You hurt?”
    Vincent glanced down before pressing a hand to the wound. “I guess so, yeah. It’s not bad.” He nudged the werewolf with his boot. “I’ve been tracking him for a while. This isn’t the first encounter we’ve had.”
    Logan pursed his lips. Vincent’s bitter tone warranted further inquiry, but now wasn’t the time. “I have a first aid kit back in my car. Used to carry it around, but it would always snag on something. More hazardous than helpful, you know?”
    “I’ m fine.”
    Logan didn’t bother to hide his disbelief. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was much less than fine, on more than one level. “Uh-huh. Let me at least buy you a beer for saving my ass. You look like you’ve been out here for days.”
    Vincent hesitated. “It’ll be dark in the next hour or so. We should bury the body before we head back to town.”
    “ With what? No shovels. We’re far enough from the road that it won’t be found for a long while. Even better, wildlife will discover the carcass and pick it clean. Let’s get out of here.”
    Something was bothering him, and i t wasn’t the lingering soreness in his side from when Vincent had tackled him.
    As he led the way back to town, Logan tried to pinpoint what it was. He replayed the events of the previous night in his mind. Chasing the beast. Shooting at it. Missing, but wounding it nevertheless. His instincts told him that something was glaringly off , but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
    The temperature began to drop to the same arctic chill he’d experienced last night. Thank goodness he’d soon be kicking it in some bar instead of prowling again.
    There was something pure about prowling in the dead of night, so mething deliciously primitive. But all the same, he’d take electric heaters and cable TV over freezing temperatures any day. Throw in a beer or