The Mating Need (Werewolves of Montana #15) - Bonnie Vanak Page 0,4

There were no such things as werewolves.

The professor, preaching to a slim crowd in the university’s auditorium, talked of full moons and people who howled. Sighing, Jeff leaned back, stretched out his legs. Been a long day in the field. The wolf pack he’d been tracking in the mountains of Montana had a large territory and sitting for hours in a blind to watch them unobserved had been tiring, but worth it. Four new pups in the Timberline Pack! He wanted to celebrate with champagne and a romantic dinner out with Judy, but she dragged him here.

Obviously one of Perry’s more devout fans, who’d taken his class on wildlife and human co-habitation.

Jeff closed his eyes.

But when Perry began talking about trapping and shooting these wolves, he sat up and paid close attention. Real close attention.

Perry, his short hair sticking up at all ends, pointed a finger into his audience. “These werewolves are evil! They are neither human nor wolf. They must be trapped and shot and destroyed. Better yet, they must be completely wiped off the face of the earth. They are an aberration of nature!”

Holy nuthouse. This dude was off his rocker. Shooting wolves? They were supposed to be saving them from hunters, not joining them. Next the guy would start babbling about sacrificing them.

Perry’s voice dropped. He leaned on the podium. “Evil, ladies and gentlemen. Such evil must be returned to the bowels of earth from which it sprang.”

“You believe this crap?” he hissed at Judy.

Rapt with attention for the man up front, she ignored him.

“I’ll be outside,” he muttered, and slid out of his seat. The door couldn’t be reached fast enough.

His stomach whirled and grumbled as he leaned over, struggling with his nausea. Forget the fact he hadn’t eaten since grabbing a banana before racing out the door this morning for the long drive to the wolf’s territory. Perry’s lecture made him want to throw up. Thoughts spun around his head in a maelstrom. How the hell could someone call themselves a conservationist and want to kill wolves, not because they overpopulated, but for some nutcase theory that they were also human?

Jeff thought about the Timberline Pack he’d seen in the mountains of Montana, above a serene valley where horses and cattle grazed. Gradually his thoughts and stomach settled. When he first started his research, he’d worried the rancher in the valley would see and shoot the pack. After talking with the rancher, he’d found out the man not only knew about the pack of wolves, but encouraged studying them.

The rancher’s niece turned out to be one of Jeff’s students.

Beth Mason not only knew her uncle Aiden well, she lived on the Mitchell Ranch. He planned a little talk with her tomorrow. Beth seemed quiet and kind, and genuinely interested in saving wolves.

Voices drifted his way as the doors swung open and the few in attendance began drifting out. Some looked amused, others disgusted, while others seemed spellbound as if they agreed.

To his dismay, Judy had the same fascinated look on her pretty face. As if Perry were a cult leader and she’d swallowed the Kool Aid.

She ran over to greet him. “Have you ever heard anything so interesting? He’s a distinguished professor!”

He wondered if aliens had kidnapped his girlfriend and swapped out her brain cells with rocks. Perhaps granite. Or feldspar.

Jeff sighed. “Judy, I have a bachelor’s degree in biology, master’s degree in wildlife conservation from Amherst, and my PhD in wildlife conservation biology from Colorado State. Perry bought his degree at a local convenience store with his daddy’s money.”

Her glare made him sigh again. “It’s a joke.”

“He’s your equal, Jeff. He’s as much of an authority as you are.”

He tried another tactic. “We are not equals. Even so…” he pushed off the wall and locked gazes with her. “Never mind the academic snobbery. Consider what your hero said a few minutes ago. He wants to kill wolves. Not save them. Not document their movements. Not protect them. Kill them, and by the sounds of his manic raging, make it pretty damn bloody as well.”

“He was joking to get our attention.” Judy shook her head.

“That’s the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard of.”

But the faraway, slightly vacant look in Judy’s eyes warned nothing he said would sway her from her worship of Professor Perry. Hell, maybe they were even sleeping together. Judy certainly hadn’t seemed interested the past two weeks and he’d been too engrossed in his studies of the Timberline Pack.

Jeff rubbed his aching temples.