Chernobyl Werewolf, Team Greywolf Series, Book 2

by Eva Gordon

  “Yeah, right?” And out of your hair. Give him the distance he needed to return to whatever world he hid in. If she just told him she planned a one-way trip to Mars, he’d probably do a happy dance.

  “Naturally, you can stay here while I look for a tenant.”

  “I’m leaving at the end of the week.” If that was too soon for Maggie, she’d book a hotel. So much for the childhood fantasy of getting to know her biological father. Her pipe dream crashed and burned. She’d even imagined them opening a clinic together. Perhaps even meeting Howard’s friend Lev again. Not happening, ever.

  Lev sat at the bar of the London hotel where he drank a second shot of vodka and watched BBC News on the big screen. The aroma of expensive Parisian perfume caught his attention. He turned. A gorgeous brunette in a red silk strapless dress showcasing ample cleavage waltzed in, her stilettos clicking some sexual timer.

  Attractive women always drew his full attention, but since meeting Rachel, she was all he’d ever thought about. Was it her blood? He had not sampled it, but being a mutant, it was as though he had. The memory surged through every cell of his body. Despite the fact, he considered Rachel his, he would never see her again.

  He returned listening to the news about a recent bombing in a market in Iraq.

  The sexy woman sat next to him. “Anything interesting going on in the world?” Her voice dripped with honeyed seduction.

  Lev smiled. “Nothing as interesting as you.” About time he got back in the game. He didn’t need alpha werewolf mind tricks to get women. They were drawn to the dangerous predator, happy to offer their flesh as a ready meal.

  “Ooh, is that a Russian accent?”

  He could ask her if she spoke Russian, but why bother? After good sex, he’d return to Rylee’s Team Greywolf pack and never see this woman again. “Yes. I’m Lev.”

  She signaled the bartender. “Would you like a Black Russian, love?”

  “I’ll take another vodka.”

  The bartender came over. “What will it be?”

  “One Black Russian and a vodka.” The bartender nodded and left. She turned to Lev. “My name is Monique. I came in from the rain for a drink.”

  A lie. The woman was a high class call girl. Why not? She would take his mind off Rachel. At least for the night.

  The bartender brought their drinks. She lifted her glass. “To getting to know each other.”

  Just as they clinked their glasses, Lev’s phone vibrated. He could ignore it. Always had when he made his move for the night. This time, he picked it up and saw the caller. His pulse quickened. Dr. Becker. He laid down a couple hundred pounds. “I’m sorry, Monique. There is business I must attend to.”

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

  He gave her enough to cover the entire night of her services. “Go home.”

  She took it and quickly stashed it and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Lev took the elevator to his suite. Why was Becker calling him? Had something happened to Rachel? He entered his room, shut the door and redialed.

  “You called.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In London.”

  “Before that?”

  Lev smirked. He must suspect. “I went on a hunt, why?”

  “A hunt in Nigeria?”

  Most knew of Lev’s ability to shift from his normal black wolf form to other fur colors and even sizes, but only Dr. Becker and Rylee knew of his ability to temporarily shift into other carnivores. “Yes, your daughter need not worry about her pretty little neck.”

  His voice tensed. “So it was you?”

  Why was Becker distressed rather than relieved? True, he took action without permission from Team Greywolf. However, he had always been a rogue werewolf, taking orders from no one. Rylee, head of Team Greywolf knew this about him. “I owed you a life debt.”

  “I never asked you to risk exposing lycan society.”

  “Nor would I, comrade.”

  “You could have tracked them and killed them with conventional methods.”

  “Of course. I could have destroyed their camp with a well-placed explosive without harming their captives.” When dealing with human enemies, the team remained human at all times, unless, there was no other choice.

  “I saw the images. Not a lion killing for food or territory, but a lion mauling for blood revenge.”

  The doctor spoke the truth. A werewolf killed in such a manner when a mate or offspring were harmed or murdered. The minute he caught Rachel’s scent, set eyes on her and felt her soft skin, he’d claimed her. At least symbolically. Naturally, she’d return to practicing medicine and perhaps even marry, but no matter. He would protect her, even if he could not claim her physically. “The terrorists needed a message that will scare them from doing such things. They must fear the lion demon.”

  “Does Rylee know?”

  “I haven’t heard from her. Rylee understands I’m a soldier of fortune who happens to be loyal to her team.” Unless it interferes with my needs. No secrets were kept from Rylee, head of the Lycan Intelligence Agency. Though he’d proven himself as a hero for the team, she warned him not to endanger their kind. Rylee had once been his father’s lover during the height of the Cold War, but warned Lev not to take advantage of her soft place for her lover’s son. If the cold-blooded seasoned commander had a soft place.

  “If she thinks you’ve gone rogue, she’ll order you to see your enforcer or have you eliminated.”

  The enforcer and he were good friends. After all, he’d help rescue his mate. “I’d be happy to share a drink with Dominic.”

  “Now that my daughter is out of danger, you will leave her alone.”

  Lev suppressed a growl. “As long as she is safe, I will leave her alone.”

  “I know enough of your kind, to know an alpha will kill those who threaten his mate.”

  “I did you a favor, my friend.”

  “Rylee knows my daughter has Stallo’s blood and is irresistible to all werewolves.”

  “I never tasted her blood.” You interrupted me, before I could.

  “I know.” He paused and sighed. “I’m sorry. You were only returning a favor.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll report back to duty on Monday.”

  Lev raised a brow. “I take it, Rachel feels better.”

  “Completely recovered.”

  “Good. She will return to work?”

  “She will take a break, but has left my home. No more world travels for a while.”

  Relief washed through him. He wanted to ask where she was, but didn’t want to make it obvious he cared. When he returned to the states, he’d check on her anyway. Make sure other alphas never caught her scent. Though not marked by his bite, she belonged to him, even if he never touched her. “Have a good day, Howard.”

  He laughed. “You sound like Rachel.”

  “What?”

  “I’m glad you don’t feel the need to call me Dr. Becker, just as Rachel doesn’t call me daddy.”

  “I meant no disrespect.”

  “None taken. You can call me Howard anytime.”

  “I guarantee once she realizes you care enough to take care of her, she’ll call you father.”

  “Goodbye, Lev.”

  “Goodbye, Doctor.”

  Lev stared at his cell phone. I should just take a bath and sleep before my flight. He rubbed his stubble. No, I must call Natalya. He opened his brief case and took out a throw away phone and dialed the Russian agent capable of locating just about anyone from hidden terrorists to computer hackers. A human, but one he had worked for when he did undercover work.

  “Good evening Natalya.”

  “Lev, you disappeared from our radar for nearly a year. What are you up to?”

  “I’ve gone off the grid and for your own well-being don’t try to find me.”

  “Who are you looking for, Lev?”

  “A young woman. Dr. Rachel Becker.”

  “Wait. I’ll go in
another room so as not to wake up lover.”

  Lev smiled. Typical Natalya. He’d slept with her once, pleasurable, but no sparks.

  “Go on.”

  Lev gave her details of her previous job, address and other stats.

  Chapter 3

  Rachel opened the shutters to her small balcony above a beautiful well cared for garden. Her temporary home stood in a quiet part of the New Orleans French Quarter. A thunderstorm brewed, but considering it was December 31, it felt like a balmy tropical night. The dark storm clouds cast the late afternoon into an early evening. She’d been here for two weeks, and finally had the house to herself. Maggie had gone to celebrate New Year’s with her boyfriend at his place and wouldn’t be back until January 2. Maggie and Jim apologized for leaving her alone for New Year’s, but she didn’t mind. She preferred to spend it alone. A few good books, maybe some bubbly. And of course, the Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, blaring in the background.

  After she left the hospital, Howard had surprised her with her first turntable. Who knew she’d love retro music played the old-fashioned way. Last time she’d seen a turntable was at a museum.

  Rachel never really liked crowds. Hunkered in and away from the crazy drunken celebrations just steps from her doors suited her just fine. Anyway, three was a crowd. And best of all, frozen pizza all for her.

  Since her arrival, Maggie and Jim had given her the grand tour of New Orleans, from the popular spots to the secret hidden gems. She just wanted to rest and think about her future. Immediately, Maggie had found a job at a nearby hospital. In no hurry to jump back to work, Rachel wanted to chill in the safety of the states.

  Guilt washed over her. Others didn’t have it so easy. Still, the thought of being in a war torn hot zone no longer drew her in. Probably PTSD from the horror of being kidnapped by the Boko Haram rather than suffering from Ebola. Treating disease had expected inherent dangers, but not watching people brutally killed. Knowing the terrorists were dead didn’t offer much comfort. She often woke in a sweat, panicked as if still being held hostage. Dying of Ebola.

  Howard suggested she see a psychiatrist about her PTSD, but she’d put up a brave front and told him she felt back to normal. He didn't know her well enough to know what was normal and what wasn't, or decided not to call her on the obvious lie. Rachel rolled her eyes and returned to the kitchen. Too late to act like the caring father. Rachel took the pizza from the freezer and after placing it on a cookie tray, she popped it in the oven. Dinner, wine, a good novel. Nothing better. She had wanted to see the fireworks, but there was always next year.

  Thunder clapped and she jumped. “Shit.” Rachel went upstairs to her room and shut the window and shutters. Lightning struck, illuminating the darkness. She gasped. A huge black wolf stood outside the backyard gate. Feral, but with glowing blue eyes narrowed on her. Not like the type of wolf she’d seen in Yellowstone or at zoos, but one the size of a bear and with eyes that beamed like sapphires. What the…? She closed her eyes and then blinked. Gone. How weird. Who kept such a big wolf as a pet? Maybe it had just been a dark husky or a giant Irish wolfhound. An illusion caused by the light.

  Or could it be bad juju? Her term for anything out of the realm of reality. Like the giant lion that mauled Yusuf and his gang of murderers. The more she thought about their deaths, the more she wondered if it had been a Nigerian witch doctor who used juju against her kidnappers. She always believed in rational science, but how could it be rational to think a lion killed an entire well-armed gang of terrorists? A lion that left the kidnapped women alone.

  Rachel ran and double checked all the doors and windows. All locked. Lightning lit the room again, followed by a loud clap of thunder that nearly deafened her. Too damn close.

  Her breath hitched. Something big pattered outside the kitchen window facing a narrow alley.

  Please, be a big dog. Curiosity dared her to look. Rachel slowly crept to the window. Her heart thrashed in her ears. Tomorrow, I’ll find out what idiot keeps a wolf hybrid as a pet.

  The power flicked off. Except for the tiny flame of the gas oven, all light vanished. Silence instead of Beatles music played a freaky tune. Pitched in quiet darkness with some neighbor’s creepy dog outside and thoughts of West African juju chilled her.

  A big black wolf stared at her from behind the window that stood above the alley. It stood on its hind feet, more like a werewolf than a wolf. Freaking tall! Its eyes glowed like blue flames. She backed away. A long drool hung from its fierce maw. The creature butted its dark muzzle against the window. Fog clouded the window.

  Rachel screamed, dropped the flashlight and ran for the bathroom. She locked herself in the bathroom, dug the phone from her blue jean pocket and dialed 911.

  “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” asked a woman dispatcher.

  Her rapid breathing signaled her near panic. “There’s some wild wolf or wolf hybrid outside my home.” Damn genetically modified creature.

  “Has it attacked you?”

  “No. Yes. I mean it’s trying to get in. It might have rabies.” Though the dreaded disease was rare in the U.S., she’d seen enough cases in third world countries to not take it lightly. Why else would it want to bite her?

  “My address is…”

  “We have it, ma’am.”

  “You better call animal control.”

  “A squad car is on its way. I’ll stay on the line, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” She slunk down on the floor, her back to the door. Beneath the door, the lights flicked on. She tilted her head. Footsteps. Barefoot patter. No clicking sound of claws on the wooden floor.

  Rachel placed her fist on her forehead. Shit. I forgot to lock the back door after taking the trash out. “Hurry, someone is in my house,” she whispered.

  “The wolf, ma’am?”

  “Human steps. A man.”

  “Stay calm, ma’am.”

  Rachel pressed her lips tight and nodded, not making a sound.

  A police siren wailed in the distance. The back door slammed shut. Had the trespasser and the wolf left or were they hiding in the dark ready to pounce on her when she thought she was safe? Either way best to stay still.

  Loud knocks pounded the door. “Police.”

  She opened her mouth to shout “coming.” Too late. The police broke the door down and two officers entered, guns drawn.

  Rachel held her arms up. “I’m the one who called.”

  “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  She trembled. “Yes.”

  “I’ll check the rooms,” said the other.

  The older cop asked. “Tell me what happened, ma’am.”

  “A big wolf stood by my kitchen window and then when I hid in the bathroom, I heard a person inside the house.”

  He regarded her with a questioning brow. “Are you sure it was a wolf and not a big dog?”

  “At first I thought it was a dog, but what I saw through my window was a wolf. I know a wolf when I see it. Strange, though, it seemed too big to be a natural wolf.”

  The second officer returned. “Clear.”

  “How big?”

  “Seven feet, maybe more.” The officers gave each other a look; a flicker of humor crossed their eyes, as if dealing with a nut job. “I mean on its hind legs it was that height.” Rachel waited for them to ask her if she’d been smoking something or doing drugs but they humored her in their polite Southern manner.

  “Well, ma’am, Officer Dugas will check outside. I’ll check for footprints.”

  He wrinkled his brow and followed a muddied trail of large footprints halfway down the hall.

  Her eyes widened as he shone his flashlight over the immense prints.

  “Human print. Must have left when he heard the siren.”

  Now you have to believe me. Rachel nodded in triumph.

  Officer Dugas returned. “No animal prints outside.”

  The other cop shook his head. “Odd.” He spoke into his radio and called
for another patrol car to search for a man, barefoot and wearing a werewolf costume.

  “What? It’s not Halloween.”

  “You are new to New Orleans?”

  “I moved in three weeks ago.”

  “All sorts of New Year’s celebrations are going on tonight. Trust me, after ten years here, I’ve seen just about everything.”

  They walked to the kitchen, the chill evening air coming through the open back door. Great. She should have gone with Maggie. Her first night alone, and she’d have to explain how she left the door unlocked and someone entered.

  He turned. “Smells like…”

  “Shit! I mean pizza.” Rachel opened the oven and fanned out the smoke. Fortunately, the smoke alarm had not gone off. “My pizza burnt.” At least it didn’t cause a fire. A break in would freak Maggie out, but her granny’s home going up in flames would have ruined a good friendship. She donned hot mitts and took the sheet straight to the sink and dumped it.

  The officers finished their investigation and advised her to keep all doors locked. She felt like such a fool.

  Rachel cleaned up the muddy floors. The cops had taken pictures. No need to save the evidence. She went to each room and made sure every window was closed and all doors to the outside locked. Intruder proof or at least the façade of security. Nothing could stop someone from coming in. At least the rain had stopped. In fact, the sky had cleared.

  Her stomach growled. The rush of adrenaline and hours since her last meal added to her misery. Why not find a nice restaurant and celebrate the New Year? She checked her watch. Seven-thirty. Long before the stroke of midnight. Not that she had anyone to kiss on New Year’s, but she would wear something nice. A long sleeved black cocktail dress. Who knows, maybe a handsome guy would buy her a drink?

  Lev had never felt so foolish. He nearly scared Rachel to death. He’d not meant to bother her. However, his wolf had other ideas. Claiming his mate turned into a struggle between man and wolf. He thought just a few minutes would satisfy his wolf. Take off the edge. Instead, it backfired. This time his wolf had almost won the battle. To make matters worse, he’d shifted to human form. To explain he only came to make sure she was okay. How would he have explained his nakedness? Her scent of pure terror broke his heart and brought his wolf under control.