by Juniper Hart
“If anything was going to happen, it would have by now,” she said.
“No,” Ortiz said firmly. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you, Hazel. I just can’t risk that he would do anything to you.”
“I will remember this!” Hazel vowed furiously.
“You’ll thank me when they convict this son of a bitch.”
Hazel smashed the cell against the table and looked around the coffeehouse, her eyes filling with tears of fury.
I’m breaking into holding tonight, she decided. And I don’t care what the consequences are.
Unfortunately for Hazel, someone had foreseen her attempt to visit Lev and blocked her access to holding.
Ortiz! He ratted me out! She stood in front of the double doors leading to the holding cells, her face almost purple with humiliation. Her body was shaking, and she inhaled sharply, trying to steel her temper from exploding. How dare they lock her out. It was her case!
Hi, Hazel. Lev’s voice piped through to her, loud and clear, and Hazel whirled about, half expecting to see him standing at her side.
“Lev?” she muttered. “Is that you?”
The one and only, he chuckled. You sound upset.
“I’m sorry,” she heard herself rasp. “I didn’t expect it to happen this way. I wasn’t expecting them to arrest you, Lev.”
The night guard eyed her through the glass, his eyebrow raised. Hazel turned her head away. She didn’t claim to understand how it had happened, but somehow, she could communicate with Lev.
Even if this is more confirmation that I’m losing my mind, I’ll take it, she thought. I need to hear his voice, at the very least.
Don’t worry about me. You need to take care of yourself right now, Hazel, Lev told her silently. If I’m right about what’s happening, you’re in danger. This pack is out to get you.
“This pack?” Hazel echoed. “What does that mean?” There was a long silence.
How do you think we’re doing this right now, Hazel? Lev asked her. You’re reading my mind, and I’m reading yours.
“I’m crazy, aren’t I? I finally cracked under all the stress.”
It’s not that simple, I’m afraid, he said. I should have been more forthcoming with you, but I was afraid you couldn’t handle the truth.
“What truth?” Hazel demanded, heat flushing through her cheeks. “What are you talking about? Who are you really, Lev?”
“Agent Carrington, are you all right?” The guard shuffled toward her, his question blocking out Lev’s next thought.
“Yes, I’m fine!” she snapped. “Leave me.” The guard didn’t move, and Hazel inhaled, knowing that he was going to call her in.
“You don’t have clearance to be down here,” the man insisted. “You should go.”
Hazel, don’t cause a scene, Lev told her. Just go. You and I will talk soon, I promise, but now I need you to go home and stay there. Confusion washed over her.
Is he threatening me? Does he want to help me or hurt me? In her heart, she knew exactly what he wanted. It was the same thing she wanted from him. He wanted to love her. And I had him arrested for serial murder.
Hazel, all is forgiven. None of this is your fault. I will find the man responsible for this, I promise, Lev whispered.
“Agent Carrington!”
“I’m going.” Hazel glared at the guard, storming from the underground holding and marching toward the elevators. She was finally going to do as she was told—go home and wait for word from Lev.
Where he’ll either kill me or save me.
13
Lev didn’t fault Hazel in the least. He blamed no one but himself for what had happened.
Although it would have been nice if my lover didn’t think of me as a serial killer, he thought with some amused bitterness. She had still come back for him, though, something that he had known she would do from the minute of his arrest.
Landon would have a fit when he heard about this. Lev ground his teeth. He knew he had to get out of there before Landon came to him.
It was an easy enough task. The reason he’d stayed was simply to see if Hazel would have come back for him, and now that he knew she regretted what she’d done, he had no reason to stay. Still, he needed to make his breakout as seamless as possible, simply because Hazel had come. He couldn’t risk putting her at scrutiny.
Lev looked around at the cement block he found himself sitting in. There were no windows to squeeze through, even as a wolf, and the cameras would certainly catch him if he did. The only thing he could do was wait to overtake a guard when he was being transported.
If they ever transport me, he thought. They can keep me here for a month without any proper charges while they investigate. He had yet to ask for a lawyer, though that was only because he didn’t want to alert Landon to his position yet.
But he had to get out. Every minute he was away from Hazel, the chances increased that either she fell into another fugue state as Asha or worse—that Gabriel came for her.
“You hungry, Kirk?” The guard leered at him from beyond the glass, and Lev stifled a groan. The man had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t like Lev from the minute he’d been brought down.
“I could eat,” Lev replied lightly, knowing that there was no way he was being fed, despite the tray the guard held in his hands.
“Did you offer your victims a last meal?” The guard’s name was Vittore. Lev remembered because it sounded so much like “bitter,” which suited his personality just fine.
“Is that tuna?” Lev asked, rising from his spot to eye the sandwich on the plastic tray. “I love tuna.” Vittore grimaced, apparently unhappy with Lev’s flippant response.
“You didn’t answer me,” the guard growled. “Did you give your victims a proper meal before you ruthlessly killed them?”
Lev looked at the man, his expression deadpan. “Let me ask you, Vittore—are you stuck babysitting criminals because you failed your agent’s exam, or because you’re an underachiever?”
Vittore’s face twisted in anger, and Lev knew he was definitely not having supper now. It was all the same to him—he really didn’t like tuna.
Before Vittore could throw the tray onto the floor, footsteps approached, and both sets of eyes turned toward the sound. Lev groaned to himself when Lowell appeared.
“I’ve got it from here, Vittore,” the agent said. Vittore didn’t argue, but he did throw the tray onto the floor, as Lev had expected he would, before sauntering off.
“He really needs to work on his social skills,” Lev commented. Lowell didn’t smile.
“You ready to talk?” the agent demanded. Lev rolled his eyes, reclaiming his place on the cold slab they called a cot.
“What would you like to talk about?” he asked conversationally. Lowell let himself into the holding cell, and Lev’s pulse quickened.
Not a good idea, he warned himself, but the opportunity was presenting itself with a bow. How could he not?
“You might have Carrington second-guessing her commitment to this, but you don’t fool me. Are you sleeping with her?”
Lev’s brows shot up, and his eyes narrowed at the blunt question. He heard the unmistakable note of jealousy in Lowell’s voice.
“Does Castillo know you’re down here, Lowell?” Lev asked, realizing that if not for Lowell, he wouldn’t be sitting in that cell, biding his time.
He had me arrested because he’s trying to impress Hazel. I wonder if she realizes that. That was a matter for another time.
“Don’t worry about my superiors, Kirk. Your nonchalance doesn’t faze me in the least. I’ve worked on worse than you and gotten what I wanted.”
“And what is it that you want?” Lev asked, even though he really couldn’t care less. Keeping Lowell talking was his only objective.
I can’t shift, he thought, not with the cameras around. I’ll have to make a break for it and risk the bullets. Mentally, he considered how many shots he could take without falling. Eight, maybe ten if they don’
t catch my head.
Lev could tell that Vittore wasn’t a good shot. He simply didn’t have the confidence. It would be him against Lowell.
The agent advanced on Lev, attempting to intimidate the wolf. “You know you’re not going anywhere, don’t you? You may as well make it easy on yourself and tell us about your victims. Are there more? What made you choose them?”
“Your interrogation style is… lacking,” Lev said. “No finesse, no romance.”
Lowell’s jaw locked. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Sneaking into our office so you can get a scoop on what’s happening, using Hazel.”
Lev bristled at the familiar use of his mate’s name on this man’s lips. “And what if you’re wrong, Lowell? What if there’s another murder while you have me locked up in this cell?”
Lowell scoffed. “Then we’ll know for a fact that you’re not working alone.”
He really is going to wrap this up with a neat little bow and package me as the killer. Not only will it boost his career, but it will also win him points with Hazel. Idly, Lev wondered how long Lowell had been pining after his mate. And how hadn’t he noticed before?
It was irrelevant, even if it was annoying. Lev was not about to get into a pissing contest with a mere mortal over Hazel. She had already made her choice, even if she had led to him being arrested.
“Who are you working with?” Lowell insisted, his face inches from Lev’s. “Give me names.”
“It’s not going to look very good for the bureau if this goes public,” Lev said, ignoring his question. Lowell scoffed.
“It will go public when we lay charges on you,” he assured Lev. “The world will be happy to know that we aren’t protecting the depraved.”
Good. They’re keeping this under wraps for now, Lev realized. I still have a chance to tell Landon before he finds out from other sources.
“Poor Castillo,” he sighed. “He’s going to have to answer for this.”
Before Lowell could respond, Lev headbutted him, sending the smaller agent reeling back into the wall. Without giving Lowell a chance to recover, Lev was on him, delivering a punch to knock him unconscious.
“Sorry about that, friend,” he muttered, and he meant it. Hurting Lowell hadn’t really been his intention, but the opportunity to escape was far too good to resist. He grabbed Lowell’s access card and let himself out, cautiously approaching the guard’s desk. If Vittore had noticed the commotion in holding, he had yet to react. Lev, however, was careful all the same.
He inched around the door, again using the card to let himself out. Vittore raised his head from his laptop, where he was watching something on Netflix, the smile freezing on his face when he realized that Lev was not Lowell.
“What the—”
But Lev didn’t let him finish, his legs bolting toward the second set of security doors as Vittore cried out for backup on the radio. By then, Lev was already in the stairwell, shifting into his wolf form and bounding toward the roof as security alarms blared around him. The building was about to be on lockdown, but that wouldn’t stop him from bursting through to the roof.
With a flash of fur, he scaled the low walls and landed in the alleyway, rushing off into the darkness before the first agent was on the street, looking for signs of him.
Amateurs, Lev joked to himself, even though he knew it was no laughing matter. He still had to find Hazel and explain everything. The worst was most definitely yet to come.
It wasn’t until Lev was safely out of the office’s line of sight that he morphed back into his mortal form and ran the rest of the way to Hazel’s apartment building. He’d half expected to see a car sitting outside, but to his relief, he didn’t.
Everything had been left back at the field office following his arrest: truck, keys, wallet, phone. Lev had nothing but his quick thinking and the hope that he’d find Hazel upstairs waiting for him as she’d promised.
It didn’t take him long to sneak his way into the building, where he rushed up the stairs, forsaking the elevators. He lacked the patience for that. Looking around Hazel’s floor furtively, he made his way to the door of her unit and knocked gently.
“Hazel, it’s me,” he whispered against the door. “Let me in.” Instantly, the door flew inward, and Hazel gaped at him in shock.
“How?” she demanded. Lev pushed his way inside and closed the door, glancing around to ensure she was alone.
“I escaped,” he replied, and her jaw dropped in disbelief.
“You can’t just escape from FBI holding,” she muttered, her eyes huge. “What did you do?” He sighed and refocussed his eyes on her, shaking his head.
“I did what I had to do to get out of there,” he said. “No one died.” Hazel seemed content with that and gestured for him to sit, but Lev shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before they come looking for me here. We need to go.”
Hazel eyed him warily. “Go where? What is going on, Lev?”
“I promise I’ll explain everything to you, but we need to get somewhere secure. Do you trust me?” She cocked her head back and met his steadfast gaze with her own.
“I don’t know,” she breathed. “I don’t know what to believe.”
It was a fair sentiment, Lev knew. Hazel’s whole life had been turned upside down in ways she didn’t even know. It was a small wonder that she was dubious about everything.
“I’m not the killer,” he told her, holding her stare. “And I would never hurt you.”
She nodded slowly, dropping her eyes.
“Okay,” she murmured. Lev could tell she wanted to trust in his words. How could she, though, when she didn’t know the entire story?
“You need to come with me,” he repeated. “They’ll be calling you, if they’re not at the door in minutes.”
She exhaled and bobbed her head again. “All right.”
Before Hazel could turn away, Lev reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She didn’t resist, even though he could clearly feel her logical side fighting with her.
“Look at me,” he instructed, and she obliged him. “Look into my face and tell me if you think I’m out to hurt you.” A plaintive guilt flushed over her cheeks.
“I… I don’t know,” she said again. “So much has happened, and I can’t tell what’s what anymore.”
Slowly, Lev lowered his lips to hers, his eyes still fixed on her face. Once more, she put up no resistance. Their mouths met, and the fusion of electricity and warmth overcame Lev’s body.
“I’m your mate,” he breathed, his lips trailing toward her ear. “It’s my duty to protect you.” Hazel drew back and stared at him uncomprehendingly.
“What are you talking about?” she questioned, nervousness flooding her face again. Her thoughts came out to him loud and clear.
That sounds like something a serial killer would say.
Lev smothered a groan. He was going to have to tell her something to make her go with him, something she could accept.
“I’m not the killer,” he told her again. “I’m a Lycan, and so are—”
The pounding on the door caused them both to spin and stare at the entranceway.
“Agent Carrington! Are you in there?” Lowell howled. “You need to let me in.” Panicked, Hazel looked back at Lev, and he inhaled sharply as he saw the indecisiveness in her eyes. “AGENT CARRINGTON! Open up before I break this door down!”
Come with me, Lev begged her silently. You know I’m not a danger to you.
“I’m giving you to the count of three!” Lowell yelled. “One…”
I have to go, Lev said, backing away from the door to head onto the balcony.
“Two!”
“Wait!” Hazel whispered, rushing after him. “I’m coming, too.” Before she could change her mind, Lev shifted again, grabbing Hazel’s collar in his fangs, and burst through the balcony doors.
When Lowell called out, “THREE!” they were already in a freefall off the patio, the pavement below rushing up toward them.
Hazel began to sob in terror.
14
He’s a werewolf, a real werewolf! Hazel screamed as she dangled from the strong jaws of the beast. A part of her refused to believe that it was happening. It’s a part of my psychosis, my brain tumor, or whatever it is, she told herself, but it did nothing to stop the nightmare from unfolding.
She had escaped help and run off with a werewolf, a creature that was probably going to drag her into the woods and kill her.
I’m not going to kill you, he told her. I’m taking you to safety. Struggling against him was futile. He was far too strong. Even as she considered it, Hazel realized that she wasn’t as scared as she was when they had left the apartment.
They ran for miles until suddenly, Lev—or the beast he had become—stopped dead in front of a house. He released her from his jaw, placing her gently on the stoop of a nondescript house, and she slowly rose to her feet.
“What is this place?” she demanded.
“A safehouse,” Lev replied, reclaiming his human form. “No one will look for us here.” He moved toward the door, but Hazel didn’t follow, her mind racing with her next move. “Hazel, you’re in the middle of Winthrop with nothing. No purse, no money, nowhere to go except with me.”
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, and he groaned aloud.
“I’m trying to keep you safe and explain what has happened to you—if you’d finally let me.” His eyes met hers, and despite the clear exasperation on his face, she felt no sense of malice emanating from him. “Please?” Lev added, and Hazel lowered her head in resignation. Without a word, she followed him up the steps as he found the key underneath the front door and let them both inside.
“What are you?” Hazel asked as soon as the door closed behind them. “How can you do that?”
“Come inside,” Lev coached, sauntering through the narrow hallway leading into the kitchen at the back of the house. Hazel had no choice but to follow him where he began opening cupboards. “I’m a Lycan, Hazel,” he said without preamble, still searching.
