“How do you know?” Zane said. “Maybe she saw it and didn’t react.”
Max frowned. “It was a skunk, dude. It’s genetically impossible for a woman to see a skunk in the dark and not freak out. I’m telling you, she can’t see in the dark.”
“Did you ever get the impression she might be faking it?” Trey asked. “Maybe she’s hiding it from you.”
“Why would she do that?” Max asked. “I’m another werewolf. She has to know she’s safe with me.”
“Think about where your head was when you and Gage first met,” Brooks said. “Back before you knew there were others like you in the world. Did you recognize Gage for what he was the first time you met him?”
Max considered that and realized Brooks was right. He’d been able to see and smell things he shouldn’t have been able to back then, but none of it had made sense to him. When Gage had shown up, he’d been too freaked to analyze his scent.
“I see your point,” he said.
“Lana may have no idea what she is or that there are other people like her,” Brooks added. “If so, it’s not like she’s going to run right out and admit she’s different.”
Max was mulling that over when Cooper lifted his head from the handgun he was cleaning. “There’s another option we haven’t considered. What if Max is right, and Lana is simply a werewolf who never learned how to use her nose or her eyes?”
Zane snorted. “That’s bloody barmy, Cooper. What kind of werewolf can’t use their nose and eyes?”
Cooper shrugged. “How about the kind that doesn’t know they are a werewolf.”
Everyone—including Max—stared at Cooper. Leave it to Cooper to head to left field. Max blamed it on all those years his fellow werewolf spent sniffing explosive fumes in the army. Or maybe it was all the times he’d been blown up by those same explosives.
“What are you saying?” Brooks asked, apparently taking Cooper seriously, which was never a good idea in Max’s opinion.
“Is it so difficult to believe that at some point we’d run into a werewolf we know absolutely nothing about?” Cooper asked. “Until a year ago, no one but Gage knew there were such things as alpha, beta, and omega werewolves. Maybe Lana is a completely different kind of werewolf. One who doesn’t have the same abilities we do or whose abilities are stunted for some reason. Brooks, you’re the one who said she smelled slightly different than the other betas we’ve run into lately. My theory would explain that. It’s like she’s a latent beta.”
Max wanted to say that was crazy, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Lana was a werewolf who had no clue what she was. Moreover, she had no idea Max was a werewolf, either. It explained why she hadn’t reacted to his scent at all.
“Should I tell her what she is?” he asked.
Brooks, Zane, Diego, and Trey all shook their heads, indicating they thought that would be a bad idea. Cooper, on the other hand, seemed to be considering it.
“I think you should tell her,” the explosives expert said. “Take it from me, women don’t like it when you hide stuff from them. They can get pretty pissed. And don’t even try that for-your-own-good crap. That never works.”
Brooks frowned. “Don’t listen to Cooper. Take your time and work up to the truth slowly. If you’re right, and Lana doesn’t realize what she is, telling her too soon could freak her out.”
Cooper snorted. “Working up to it slowly won’t freak her out any less.” He looked at Max. “So, are you going to follow my advice since I actually have experience dealing with a woman who turned out to be The One in my life? Or do you go with Brooks’s approach? Keep in mind that he tackles moving cars for fun.”
Max looked back and forth between Brooks and Cooper, wishing one of the other guys would give him his opinion on the subject, but Zane, Diego, and Trey stayed silent.
Finally, he shook his head. “Sorry, dude. I have to go with Brooks on this one. He might tackle cars now and then, but at least he’s never gotten himself blown out of a ten-story window.”
Cooper shrugged. “Have it your way. But when Brooks’s approach blows up in your face, come on back and I’ll tell you how to fix everything.”
They were still talking about whether this latest theory on Lana meant Deputy Chief Mason didn’t know about werewolves when Gage stuck his head in the door.
“We got a call for support,” he said. “Brooks, Zane, Diego—I need you to provide backup on a rollout to Northwest Dallas, near the apartment complex off Webb Chapel and Park Lane.”
Brooks, Diego, and Zane immediately jumped up, weapons in hand.
Even though his boss hadn’t said his name, Max was next on the rotation along with the other guys, so he automatically moved to join them.
“You don’t need to take this one, Max,” Gage said. “It’s a domestic violence call.”
The other guys didn’t slow as they headed for the building’s exit that would take them to the parking lot with the response trucks. Their gear would already be loaded and waiting for them.
Max hated DV calls for obvious reasons. Gage and the rest of the team knew it, too, and did their best to keep him off those calls. But he couldn’t avoid them forever. It was a major part of SWAT’s job to help out uniformed officers on DV calls when things looked like they might get out of hand.
