Neither of us moved a muscle until the next morning.
When we were rudely awakened by incessant pounding on my still very broken door.
11
Someone was jackhammering their fist against the wood. I was amazed the door still held. If they were trying to wake the dead, they were succeeding. I jumped out of bed and threw on the first robe I could find. It was a smooth black silky number with large pale flowers and a decidedly geisha feel. I didn’t have time to be picky, since the pounding reverberated around my empty apartment like an echo with a vendetta.
James rolled off the bed behind me, running an absent hand through his hair. He looked completely unfazed by the early morning wake-up call, which was good news. It meant our visitor wasn’t a serious threat. I was happy to know I wouldn’t have to start the day off with my fists.
“Morning, Jessica,” James murmured as he strode toward the bathroom. “Call me if you have any trouble.” He shut the door behind him.
The pounding intensified as I belted my robe. I hurried out of my bedroom wondering who the mad knocker was. It could be my father, but I hadn’t sensed him. That didn’t mean much, since I hadn’t sensed last night’s attacker either. I sampled the air, but there were still too many other lingering scents in my living room from last night. A residual blast of pheromones gave me a little jump. Yikes.
I stopped in front of my nailed-together, barely still upright door and paused. It was probably an angry neighbor coming to give me grief about all the racket I caused last night. But there was no way I was making the same mistake twice.
I pressed my face up against the door right by the defunct deadbolt and inhaled deeply through the tiny opening.
I barely needed a full breath to figure out who was on the other side.
Crapola.
I wondered for a second if I could get away with not answering. This so wasn’t how I wanted to start my day. It was six-thirty in the damn morning.
Another stream of fist-pounding, followed by a muttered curse. “I know you’re in there, Hannon. I can wait out here all day if I have to. There’s nothing on my agenda today more important than nailing your ass to the goddamn wall. Now open up!”
Dammit all to hell. How was I going to get the door open without causing a scene? “Hold your horses, Ray,” I grumbled. “I’m here, but at this ungodly hour I was asleep like most of the other normal people on the planet. Gimme a minute.”
Most likely, when he arrived at work this morning he discovered that a police car had been dispatched to this address last night, so he hightailed it over without thinking it through. Now I had to deal with him.
“I’m going to wait for exactly five more seconds, Hannon. Then I’m going to kick it in.”
“Ray, are you holding a warrant for that?” I called. “If you have one, you’ve been a very busy boy this morning. If you don’t, kicking my door in would mean lots of nasty paperwork for you—not to mention some serious legal hassles. I’m not sure I’d rush into that direction if I were you, but honestly, be my guest …”
He grunted his response, adding a few choice words.
Cripes, this man pissed me off. I should let him break down the door. He would get reprimanded and if nothing else, maybe someone without an evil grudge against me would be assigned to my case. But deep down I knew there was really no way to get rid of him; like a homing pigeon, he would always come back.
So I did the only thing left I could do. I braced my silky geisha-clad shoulder against the door, grabbed on to the knob with both hands, and gave it one swift, hard yank.
The door popped instantly free of the opening. I stumbled back a few steps ungracefully as it wobbled against me. I’d used too much strength, but I recovered nicely, and calmly placed it a few feet to the right of the opening.
I turned back to Ray with a sunny smile on my face, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Hi, Ray. So glad you could drop by.”
Ray was momentarily stunned. He tried to recover himself, but it took a second. “What in God’s name is going on here now?”
“You know, Ray, people keep asking me that and I don’t really have a good answer. But I promise when I have one you’ll be the first to know.” I turned and headed to my kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Ray chased after me, lecturing my retreating back.
“Did you happen to know a police car was dispatched to this location last night at approximately eleven-fifteen p.m.?” he barked. “And they left without even coming in. The officers who responded actually said they ‘forgot’ to file a report. Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you, Hannon? A little too out of the ordinary for this quiet building to get hit again so soon?”
“Ray, right now nothing seems strange to me.” I dumped some fragrant Colombian coffee into the filter and poured enough water to fill the pot. Ray situated himself outside my breakfast nook to better harass me.
“By the looks of your mangled door,” he went on, “it seems you’re the source of the complaint. I can find out who called it in with a quick search of your neighbors’ phone records. You can’t cover all your tracks, Hannon. No matter how hard you try. Or have you forgotten what you learned when you were still on the straight and narrow?”
I braced my hands on the kitchen counter to give me strength, and then turned my tired eyes on Ray, giving him a full dose of my stare. He wiggled immediately and dropped his eyes. It was damn satisfying. “I never left the straight and narrow, Ray. You only choose to believe I did to pacify your own overactive imagination. I left the force because it wasn’t the right fit for me, and because I didn’t like dealing with overzealous cops who thought they knew everything. Cops who dogged me, made my life hell with their craziness, cops who can’t seem to leave well enough alone. I’m not the bad guy here, Ray. You’re the one with the vendetta. I’d say it’s more than time for you to drop this whole damn thing so we can both get on with our lives.”
“My imagination?” he barked. “You’re the one who’s living in la-la land, Hannon. For one, your apartment’s been royally trashed by someone who hates you—hates you enough to bring in their fucking pet. Your door’s been blown off its hinges since the last time I was here. You had enough horse tranq in your possession to put out an army of Clydesdales, and your made-up camping buddy has yet to show his face.” He must’ve called in several favors to get the lab results that quickly, if he wasn’t just guessing. “Then there was that guy you beat up at the movie theater—a mere nine hours ago—who was DOA.” Dammit, Drake’s death would definitely complicate things. “And you’re worried that I’m the one with the overactive imagination? Now that’s hilarious, Hannon.”
A throat cleared behind me. “I’m sorry, but were you just referring to me?” James asked, his voice gravelly and rough with sleep and menace. “You know that part about the ‘made-up camping buddy’? I assume you meant me.”
I turned to see James framed perfectly in my kitchen door-way like a page out of one of those hard-bodies calendars.
He was naked from the waist up.
Droplets of water from his shower still lingered on his chest. His hair had been slicked back with his fingers, because, I guess, brushes were for sissies. He’d managed to find his pants, which was probably a good thing. I didn’t really feel like explaining Ray’s heart attack to any of the attending officers when they came to remove him from my apartment.
James leaned his half-naked, wet body against the doorjamb and casually crossed his arms, making his biceps jump. He had a small smile on his lips. He was enjoying this.
But I wasn’t fooled for a second.
Tiny hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood at attention when our eyes met. He was every inch a lethal predator, and in about half a second Ray would know it too. James wasn’t going to mess around. This was all business.
Ray had inadvertently stepped backward into my living room when he had seen James. I bet he hadn’t even realized it yet. It was a common reaction. Humans instinctively
wanted to get away. Ray’s mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out.
“I can assure you I’m not make-believe.” James continued the conversation as if nothing were amiss. “You know how it is, when you just want to escape with your lover for a few nights. All your careful planning goes straight out the window. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He gave me a wicked grin.
“That’s right … honey. See, Ray, we just got caught up in the moment.”
James’s gaze locked on mine as I spoke and a line of goose bumps erupted along my arms. James growled, “And it was quite a moment, wasn’t it?”
Ray physically shook himself. His hands shot toward his chest, I’m sure itching for the gun I knew was tucked inside the ill-fitting sport coat he had on today. I caught a whiff of surprise emanating from him, as well as a heavy dose of frustration.
James didn’t wait for Ray to respond; instead he paced slowly into my kitchen, stopping immediately behind me. He reached above my body, his arms brushing my shoulders. He pulled down a coffee mug and placed a kiss on the top of my head before turning around and busying himself pouring a cup of coffee.
When he finished, he settled his hips against the counter and took a lazy sip. He wasn’t playing fair. “I apologize we haven’t had a chance to chat sooner, Detective. It is Detective, isn’t it? We’ve been a bit busy trying to clean up after the nasty break-in.” He took a long swallow. “By the way, do you have any leads? Anything you care to share with us? It would give Molly some much-needed peace of mind to hear how the case is shaping up.”
Ray fought for control, but I could see he wasn’t going to give up easily. He squared his shoulders and took half a step forward. I had to give him props for trying. He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe you do exist. So what? That doesn’t mean anything. The last time I checked it doesn’t explain away everything else that’s happened around here.” He nodded toward my bare living room, littered with gouges and trashed walls. Point taken.
“No, it doesn’t,” James agreed. “But if I’m not mistaken, isn’t that your job, Detective? To find out exactly what has happened here and why? Correct me if I’m on the wrong track, but as I understand it, the victim is usually not the one harassed by the investigating officer. It’s your job to track down the perpetrators and find the clues. Do you honestly think Molly would trash her own apartment like this?” James’s tone became steely. “I also don’t believe there’ve been any formal charges filed, and from my understanding there has been no theft here, no serious crime, only some unfortunate vandalism.”
A trickle of sweat made its way down the side of Ray’s face, right next to his hairline. Receiving the full attention of a dominant werewolf was taking its toll. “It doesn’t matter if she files,” Ray managed to spit out of very clenched teeth. “This is my case until it’s closed. And you still haven’t adequately explained the illegal concoction we found in your bathroom either. It’s highly suspicious to have a breaking and entering, and the victim just happens to have a stash of drugs in her bathroom cabinet.”
James took a hold of my hand, pulling me against his side. His Irish brogue purred just above my ears as he leaned in. “Now why haven’t you told Detective Hart about your condition, dove?” He nuzzled my neck. “Seizure disorders affect a huge percentage of the population, just like the doctor told us. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Then he turned to Ray. “Has the lab actually confirmed your ridiculous claim of ‘horse tranquilizer’? Or are you going to keep hounding us with that in favor of trying to solve the actual crime committed here?”
Ray had the good decency to look slightly abashed. “Um … no, they haven’t confirmed it exactly. But they couldn’t rule it out either. It seems that the makeup of the liquid was … well, let’s just say it was highly unusual.” He sneered. “And that only adds to the strangeness of this case, and to Hanno—Molly herself. The truth will come out soon enough.” He staggered a bit, this little speech taking every ounce of gusto he had. Then he turned and lurched abruptly toward the door.
He’d lasted longer than most men I’d seen in his position. I could file a harassment suit against him for this visit and we both knew it. He had nothing solid on me, and James had just reinforced that.
When Ray reached the doorway, he pointed an accusing finger at me. “If she has this so-called mystery seizure disorder, which I’m sure no one on earth has ever heard of before, then why isn’t it on file with the state? Huh? She was a cop. All her physicals are on record. Her records are clean. They state she’s in perfect health.”
“Ray,” I said, walking out into my living room. “If you bothered to check, the paperwork for my very real seizure disorder should’ve already been faxed to the precinct by my physician. It’s an affliction I’ve acquired in the last year. I guess I was a late bloomer.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, keeping my robe closed. I didn’t want to flash Ray for the finale. “Have we given you enough to get you off our backs this morning, Ray? ’Cause if we have, I’d just as soon jump in the shower and start my day.”
James came up behind me, a cup of coffee in his hands.
Ray was within an inch of disappearing out the door. “The two of you don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me, and you don’t make me sweat.” Oh, on the contrary, Ray. “I know what I feel and I’ve been spot-on my entire career for eighteen solid years. There’s something more than meets the eye with you, Hannon. Ever since you tagged Milo Curtis, I’ve known something was off. When you’re around, strange things happen. You do things normal people can’t—and shouldn’t—be able to do. You’re like some kind of doped-up circus freak. You can’t hide forever. At some point you’ll fuck up in a big way, and I’ll be waiting.” He turned and stumbled out of the apartment.
James handed me his cup so he could right the door.
“That’s it!” I cried as James effortlessly propped the door back in place. “After all these years, I get it. I’ve been so stupid.”
“Get what?” James took his cup back and headed toward the kitchen.
I followed. “Ever since Ray Hart zeroed in on me like a bloodhound, I’ve been trying to puzzle out the real catalyst. One day I was living my life, and the next he was dogging my every move. He just inadvertently revealed what set him off. It was Milo Curtis. I don’t know why I never put that together before now.” I stopped at the kitchen doorway. James had his hand on the fridge door, the muscles in his back flexing. I was momentarily lost.
“And who is this Milo Curtis bloke?” James set food on the counter.
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Milo Curtis was Ray’s first big case, that’s who.” I walked over and started helping James with breakfast. “Milo was a big-time cat burglar doing all these huge heists around town. He stole millions. All these rich people with lots of power were getting hit, and subsequently putting pressure on the mayor and police department to find him. Everyone in the precinct was on edge. Evidentially, and unbeknownst to me at the time, he must’ve been Ray’s ticket to the top.”
James grabbed a pan off my hanging rack. “And let me guess, you got this Milo Curtis fellow your first time out, and in the process made the good detective look like a wanker who couldn’t find his own arse with both hands.”
“That about covers it.” I chuckled. “I found out later Milo was a shifter of some kind. He disappeared soon after his arraignment, which is why I thought Ray never cared too much about the case, because it remained unsolved with the suspect on the loose. But the robberies stopped altogether, and it turned out that was all that had mattered to the chief. They didn’t care about an arrest, they just wanted the hits to stop. And they did.”
“Ray Hart is a bloody idiot.” James started to whip the pancake batter. “He could stand to learn a lesson or two.”
I needed a shower. Watching James make pancakes with no shirt on was going to ensure it was a cold one. I headed for the bathroom, calling over my shoulder, “Yes, but now that same idiot wants payback, and by the looks o
f it, preferably in the form of my personal demise. He’s going to do everything in his power to get me.”
I heard an egg crack against the pan. “Let him try.”
12
The phone rang while I was in the shower. We were set to meet my father, brother, and the other wolves who’d made it into town in my office conference room in an hour.
Not using my place of business as the meeting location had apparently been discussed briefly, because a truckload of wolves descending on the premises would be a screaming beacon announcing to the world I’d changed. But if a werewolf had already found me in two days, my secret was already out. There was no stopping the train now, even though I would’ve loved to derail it completely.
We stood in the kitchen eating breakfast, because there was no furniture for sitting. I watched James eat, his powerful body up against the counter. A small pang surfaced in my chest about what we did last night. I didn’t feel in any way attached to him, even though he was an unbelievable specimen, but it was kind of weird to be slutty and okay with it.
Do you feel any flutters? I asked my wolf.
She yawned at me and closed her eyes.
I didn’t want it to be strange between James and I, so I tried to clear the air. “Um, James, about last night … I hope that was … you know … okay with you …”
James let out a throaty laugh. “No need to worry yourself. My wolf couldn’t have denied your wolf anything in the world last night. I don’t regret our little tryst one bit.”
“I don’t either,” I admitted truthfully. “It was a nice way to end an extremely stressful evening. I felt better immediately.” I had to ask one more thing. “James, do I … I smell different to you? Not just because I’m a wolf now, but I mean, different than other human females?” I shifted uneasily. It was totally embarrassing having this conversation in my kitchen. “I’m asking because it sort of seemed like … I don’t know, I was giving off some weird hormonal thing last night I had no control over.”
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