Wolf Untamed (SWAT - Special Wolf Alpha Team #11) - Paige Tyler Page 0,122

werewolf abilities, he got the feeling she’d yet to accept her inner wolf. He couldn’t shake the sensation that Harley didn’t like what she was. It made him wonder what the hell McKay had said to get her to agree to the job.

Jake opened his mouth to ask if either Caleb or Harley had found a place to live yet—because the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and it seemed like a safe thing to talk about—when the door to the conference room opened and their boss walked in. Brown hair sporting a touch of gray at the temples, McKay appeared every inch the federal agent, right down to the black suit and wire-rimmed glasses.

Harley sat up a little straighter.

Caleb didn’t even have the good sense to take his foot off the table—nice to confirm he did indeed have the social graces of a sea slug.

Two other agents were with McKay, a man and woman, both of whom were probably in their mid- to late-twenties. Six feet tall with dark hair, a square jaw, and blue eyes that looked like they didn’t miss a thing, the guy looked like someone central casting would give you if you asked for a standard-issue FBI agent, dark suit and red power tie included.

The woman, on the other hand, was different. In fact, the only thing “standard issue” about the petite agent was the navy-blue pantsuit she wore. And while Jake wasn’t an expert on the FBI or CIA, he was pretty sure her vivid purple hair wasn’t the norm. But that wasn’t the only thing unique about her. Nope. Her eyes were purple, too. Lavender, actually. At first, he thought she was wearing contacts but then realized the color was real.

Considering STAT had recently recruited werewolves, it wasn’t surprising to think they hired other supernaturals. Maybe the unique-looking woman was more different than she appeared.

“Sorry I’m late,” McKay apologized.

He closed the door, then flipped a switch on the control panel beside it. A moment later, a high-pitched hum filled the room, making Jake wince. On the other side of the table, Harley and Caleb mirrored his reaction. Shrill noises and keen hearing didn’t mix, but the meeting must be seriously classified if McKay was going with a frequency jammer to keep anyone else from picking up their conversation.

“Jake Huang, Harley Grant, Caleb Lynch, meet two more members of the team—Forrest Albright and Mistal Swanson.” McKay pulled out the rolling chair at the head of the table and took a seat. “Forrest was FBI for almost five years before joining STAT a year and a half ago. Misty has been with the organization a little less than that.”

While McKay fiddled with the keyboard on the table in front of him, trying to boot up the computer connected to the huge screen on the front wall, Misty sat down in the empty chair next to Jake. Forrest sat beside her.

“What about you, Misty?” Caleb said, casually eyeing the woman across from him. “McKay didn’t say where you worked before joining STAT.”

Mistal flipped her long, colorful hair over her shoulder and turned her gaze on the omega. “McKay recruited me after I graduated from college because of my unique abilities.”

That was cryptic, Jake thought. Harley seemed just as curious. “What abilities are those?”

At the far end of the table, McKay finished tapping on the keyboard as the STAT organization’s logo filled the screen, along with several warnings about protecting classified information and sensitive sources.

“Misty is a technopath,” their new boss said, as if that explained everything. When Jake and his fellow werewolves continued to stare at him, McKay added, “She’s similar to a telepath, only she reads electronic equipment, not people.”

Jake had no idea what the hell McKay was talking about. At least Harley and Caleb seemed equally confused.

“Okay,” Jake said. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

McKay looked at Misty. “Want to give them a demonstration?”

Lips curving, Misty held her hand out to Jake. “Give me your cell phone.”

He’d just upgraded his phone before moving there, so he didn’t want Misty blowing it up or anything. But he had to admit he was curious, so he dug it out of his pocket and handed it to her. Before his eyes, Misty’s lavender irises went completely white, making her seem even more supernatural.

“Your pass code is 1-2-3-4? Seriously?” She laughed. “Not that there’s much in here to protect. A contact list with a dozen names and a handful of photos, all of them with the same

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