Bound by Blood (Crescent City Wolf Pack Book 3)

by Carrie Pulkinen

  She crossed her arms, and the corners of her mouth twitched. “You were saying…”

  “Here’s the deal. I like you, and when you compared me to that jackass you dated…” He sighed. Why couldn’t he spit it out? “Like I said before, I don’t want you to think poorly of me, but you’re not giving me a chance. I got frustrated and acted like an ass, and I’m sorry.”

  She smiled. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for assuming the worst of you. You’re nothing like Eric or any other man I know.”

  “Thank you.” The tension in his shoulders loosened. Stepping toward her, he took her hand. “Let me make it up to you. If you’ll stay here today, I’ll make dinner for you tonight.”

  “You can cook?”

  “I can learn.”

  She gazed at their entwined fingers before blinking up at him. “I don’t know, Bryce. I…”

  “Where else are you going to go?”

  She drew her shoulders toward her ears. “I was thinking about seeing Macey.”

  “One more night. Please? Have dinner with me, and then if you don’t want to see me anymore you can leave. I won’t bug you to stay.” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  “I guess dinner won’t hurt.” She smiled. “I’ll go see Macey this afternoon, and I’ll be back in time for dinner. Does that work for you?”

  The knot in his chest unfurled in a flush of warmth. He still had a chance. “Be home by seven?”

  “Sure.”

  He could have lost himself staring into her emerald eyes. Her irises sparkled like actual jewels, and they held so much depth he felt as if he could swim through her soul, if she would let him in. As she held his gaze, a strange energy passed between them, and he could have sworn he felt a piece of her wall crumble. He leaned toward her. “Is this the part where we kiss and make up?”

  She laughed and pulled her hand from his. “Don’t push it, mister.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. I have to go to work. I’ve got a school visit this morning.”

  “Michael’s school? Is he going back already?”

  He grabbed his keys from the bowl and dropped them in his pocket. “The bully’s been removed, but Michael’s not going back until January. I need to check on the other kids. Make sure things are running smoothly.”

  She caught his gaze, and her smile held so much warmth the entire world seemed to pause for a moment. “Those kids are lucky to have you looking out for them.”

  He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. Sam enjoys your company.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Bryce tore his gaze from hers to answer it. Michael stood on the landing, holding a metal pan.

  Alexis moved behind Bryce and rested her hands on his shoulders. His stomach tightened at the casual way she touched him. It felt way more intimate than it should have.

  “Do you always have your meals delivered?” She moved a hand to his bicep and peered into the dish. White icing melted on top of four giant, fluffy cinnamon rolls.

  The kid’s gaze cut back and forth between Alexis and Bryce. “I…uh…Sorry. I didn’t know you were busy. My mom wanted me to bring you these.”

  Bryce smiled and patted her hand. “No problem, man. I’m never too busy for your mom’s cooking. This is my friend, Alexis Gentry.”

  She offered him her hand to shake.

  “Hi. I’m Michael.”

  Alexis glanced at Bryce, and he gave a small nod of confirmation as he took the cinnamon rolls.

  “Well, I’m going to go. Have a nice day, Sergeant Samuels.” He raised his hand in a timid wave. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Gentry.”

  Bryce closed the door and carried the cinnamon rolls to the table. “I’ll have to take mine to go.” He snatched a plastic container from the cabinet and pulled a roll from the tray. Gooey icing dripped down the sides onto his fingers as he dropped it into the container.

  He stuck his finger in his mouth to lick off the frosting, and Alexis bit her bottom lip. Her gaze slid from his eyes to his mouth and back again, and his knees nearly buckled beneath him.

  She sank into a chair. “Sweet kid.”

  Bryce blinked away the memory of the way her lips had felt pressed to his. “Yeah, he is.” He grabbed a plate and a paper towel and set them in front of her. “Help yourself. They’re best when they’re warm.”

  “Thanks.”

  He poked his head out the back door. “Sam.” The dog stopped and looked at him for a second before lowering his nose to the ground and ignoring him. “C’mon, Sam, I’ve got to go to work.”

  “You can go. I’ll watch him.” She took a bite of her breakfast, and icing dripped onto her lip.

  He couldn’t help but stare as she flicked out her tongue to lick it off. Blood rushed to his groin, and a shudder ran down his spine. Watching a woman eat shouldn’t have affected him this way, but he’d never met a woman like Alexis. Everything she did had sex appeal. “I appreciate that.” He sauntered to the door, fighting the urge to adjust his crotch. “I’ll see you at seven?”

  She stood and padded toward him. “I’ll be here.” Leaning in, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He nodded and opened the door. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  Warmth filled Alexis’s core as she watched Bryce through the window. He had a slight spring in his confident gait, and she hoped she’d put it there. She let the curtain fall shut and sank onto the sofa. Maybe nice guys did exist after all.

  She checked her phone. Nothing from Eric or David, so hopefully that debacle had been taken care of. As second in command of the Biloxi pack, David should have been able to keep control of his son. He just needed to tighten the leash.

  A high-pitched whining noise sounded from the kitchen, and she turned around to find Sam sitting by the back door, licking his front paw. She shuffled toward him, and he whined again.

  “What’s the matter, buddy?” She reached for his leg, and he shied away, flattening his ears against his head. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me look.”

  She gently took his paw and examined the underside. A huge bur wedged between the first and second pads, so she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. Sam licked his paw one more time and jumped to his feet, doing his adorable full-body wag.

  Alexis laughed and tossed the bur in the trash. “You’re welcome.”

  She closed the back door, and the sound of a key turning in the front lock sent her heart racing. The door swung open, and a woman in her mid-forties stepped into the living room. She had medium-length, dark hair styled into a classic mom-cut. High-waisted jeans and a button-up blouse completed the look.

  The woman closed the front door and fisted her hands on her hips as she turned to face Alexis. “Who are you, and what do you want from Bryce?”

  Whoa. She got right to the point. “You must be Karen, right? My name is Alexis. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her eyes widened, and her aggressive posture relaxed slightly. “Yes, I’m Karen. I live downstairs.” She crossed her arms. “How do you know Bryce?”

  Alexis mirrored her posture and tried to ignore the territorial instinct that had her wolf wanting to growl. How many women had a key to Bryce’s home? “We’re friends. Macey, his ex-partner, is my sister.”

  Karen dropped her arms to her sides and let out a slow breath. “Is that your car on the curb?”

  “Yes. I can park somewhere else if it bothers you.”

  She nodded. “I know your type.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Everything you own is in the back of that car, isn’t it? You drift from man to man, sleeping with whomever will take you in, using him until you get tired of him or he stops spending money on you.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me.” How dare this woman force her way in here to corner her? She had no right to make accusations like this. Alexis didn’t use men. If anything, her life had been the exact opposite, and
Bryce…she wouldn’t dream of hurting him.

  What kind of person waltzed into a man’s house and started spouting insults at the woman he had invited over? She ground her teeth to fight the rumble trying to roll up from her chest.

  Karen raked her gaze over Alexis’s cargo pants and sweatshirt. “I know enough. Bryce is a great guy. He deserves someone who’s going to treat him with respect, not someone who’s using him for a free ride.”

  Alexis straightened her spine. “I’m not using him. I care about him.” He’s mine.

  Whoa. Where did that thought come from? She’d dealt with plenty of territorial women in the werewolf community, and her wolf was standing her ground. That’s all it was. She hadn’t actually claimed him.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Karen, I appreciate that you want to protect Bryce. He is an amazing man, but you have to understand that he’s an adult, and who he invites into his home is his business. Unless you have some kind of claim on him?”

  The muscles in Karen’s jaw tightened as she turned for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “Please don’t hurt him. He deserves better.”

  Alexis sank onto the couch as Karen shut the door and trotted down the stairs. Sam jumped onto the cushion next to her and made a whining sound in his throat.

  She scratched his head. “I really do care about him.” Way more than she should have. Karen was right, though. He did deserve better.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bryce’s leg bounced beneath his desk as he scoured the internet for recipes. Alexis had been impressed with Karen’s jambalaya, and he wanted to give her another home-cooked meal to prove he wasn’t the jackass she’d thought. That he could be a provider. The kind of man she wanted.

  He’d known Alexis for more than a year now, seeing her with Macey every now and then when she’d popped into town for a few days. She never seemed to stay in one place for very long, and from the way she talked, it sounded like she’d never met a man worth staying for.

  Bryce wanted to be that man. He would be the reason she stayed this time. And if he had to learn how to cook to convince her he was the right man for her, so be it. He’d do anything.

  His computer pinged with an incoming e-mail, and he clicked the tab to open it. His pulse quickened. The autopsy report on the body they’d pulled out of the river had finally come through.

  He scanned the contents, and a sickening feeling pooled in his gut. Macey had tried to write it off as an animal attack, but the body temperature had been seven degrees below the ambient temperature of the Mississippi in that area.

  If the body had been colder than the atmosphere they’d found it in, it must have been refrigerated—or possibly frozen—before the killer dumped it in the river. He didn’t know any wolves that had access to freezers, let alone opposable thumbs and the brains enough to put a body in one. Let Macey try to dismiss this as an animal attack now.

  Johnson knocked on his office door, his expression grim. “Jumper on the CCC. Let’s go.”

  A brick settled in Bryce’s stomach. The Crescent City Connection, the bridge between the Mississippi’s East and West banks, hosted a couple of suicide attempts annually. This would make number three for this year.

  He followed Johnson out of the station and climbed into his SUV. Flipping on the siren, he high-tailed it for the bridge and said a silent prayer they’d make it in time.

  When he approached the bridge, the uniforms already had the westbound lanes closed, and a line of cars blocked his access. He cut the wheel right and took the shoulder the rest of the way before killing the engine and sliding out of his seat.

  Adrenaline made his nerves hum as he paced up the street toward the bridge entrance. Frigid wind whipped into his face, biting at his skin, and a thick blanket of clouds covered the sky, masking the sun. A harbor police boat chugged through the murky water below, and a chill wound up Bryce’s spine. He zipped his jacket.

  A uniform approached, shaking his head, and a heaviness pressed on Bryce’s shoulders as if he were Atlas, trying to hold the weight of the world. A fist of dread yanked his heart into his stomach, and he quickened his pace.

  The uniform put up his hands. His name tag read Blanchard. “Dude already jumped. Harbor police are searching the water to see if he’s alive, but you know how this goes.”

  “Goddammit!” Bryce clenched his jaw so tight a sharp pain shot through his temple. If he’d been five minutes earlier, he might’ve been able to save that man. He would have saved him.

  “Hey.” Blanchard slapped him on the shoulder. “At least he’s out of his misery now, right?”

  Bryce’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the stifling odors of car exhaust and muddy river water, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Misery? He had no idea the kind of misery this man had left behind for his loved ones. Pain. Guilt of not doing enough to help. Remorse for not paying attention to the signs. The suffocating agony of never having an answer to why. Drowning in a sea of a thousand regrets, unable to break the surface to simply breathe…

  Blanchard shook his head. “I don’t know why we try to stop them, honestly. If they want to die—”

  “Walk away, Blanchard.” His anger morphed his words into a growl. That man probably had a family. Parents. Friends. A brother. People who cared about him. His suffering may have ended, but theirs was just beginning…and for what? Because of the screwed-up way society viewed depression? Because people thought it was something to be ashamed of rather than an illness that could be treated? People were all too willing to talk about their physical problems…cancer, heart disease, diabetes…they’d tell you all about the treatments and medications they took. But as soon as the problem had to do with the mind, people acted like it was a personal weakness. He curled his hands into fists.

  “All I’m saying is, who are we to decide who lives and who dies?”

  “You’ve got five seconds to get your ass off this bridge before I plant my fist in your face.”

  Blanchard raised his hands in surrender. “All right, I’m going. Man, all you negotiator guys got a chip on your shoulders.” He shook his head and strode away.

  “Chip on my shoulder, my ass,” Bryce grumbled. Most of the guys on the team had witnessed firsthand the aftermath of a suicide. It wasn’t a chip. It was a deep desire to stop it from happening to anyone else.

  Another slap on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts.

  Johnson scowled. “Body’s already on the bank.” He nodded to the left, where a team dragged a corpse from the water. “Once we get ID, I’ll handle notifying the next of kin. You can head back.”

  “Yeah.” Bryce stared out over the water as a familiar numbness spread through his core and down his limbs. Too late to save him. If he’d only known sooner.

  He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Internalizing would do him no good, so he wiped the emotion from his face and made his way down the riverbank. He’d save the next one. And the one after that.

  Seeing the body wouldn’t help, but he always had to look. Maybe one day he’d find a clue to the reason a person could slip into such a state of distress. Could feel so alone, even when he had people who loved him.

  He peered at the body lying in the grass, and his heart stuttered. “I thought the jumper was a male.”

  “He was,” an officer answered.

  Bryce took a step closer. A series of jagged tears covered the woman’s arms and legs. Her torn shirt revealed teeth marks in her shoulder, and the gash in her neck probably severed her carotid artery. He backed up as Detective Sharon Dupuis crouched to examine the body.

  She shook her head. “Looks like another animal attack.” She addressed a uniform. “Weren’t there reports of wolves in the surrounding area last year?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I believe so,” the officer replied.

  She stood. “We’ll need to contact the park rangers and see if there have been any recent reports.” She typed something into her phone and turned to walk away.r />
  “Now, hold on a minute, Detective.” Bryce strode toward her. “Have you seen the autopsy report on the other one?”

  She crossed her arms. “Sergeant, what are you doing here?”

  “I was on the bridge for the jumper. Have you seen the report?”

  Her brow furrowed as she fought off a cringe. “Not yet.”

  “The first animal attack victim measured seven degrees colder than the river. Unless you know a wolf that keeps a deep-freezer in its den, I’d say it was more than an animal attack.”

  She tilted her head. “You’re a negotiator. Why were you looking at the autopsy report?”

  Damn it, why did it matter? “I was helping Detective Mason.”

  “I see. Well, I’ll be sure to let her know if the case is the same with this one.” She flashed an insincere smile, turned on her heel, and strutted away.

  Bryce ground his teeth on his way back to his SUV. Something fishy was going on with these bodies, and though murder investigations were no longer in his job description, he’d be damned if he’d let any criminal roam free. He’d give Macey a chance to get up to speed with the inconsistencies in the autopsy report, and if she didn’t start treating this case like the crime it was, he’d do it for her.

  Alexis tugged Bryce’s jacket tighter around her shoulders and pressed her nose against the collar. His warm, masculine scent filled her senses, stirring the strange feelings deep in her soul. What was it about this human that commanded her wolf’s attention?

  She strolled up Royal Street toward the Gumbo Place, absorbing the scenery and relishing the warmth Bryce provided against the cold. Two and three-story wooden structures rose on both sides of the street, their colorful facades reflecting a time long ago. Festive holiday colors decorated the wrought-iron railings that trimmed the balconies and galleries, and a three-piece band played an upbeat version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” on the corner of St. Louis Street.

  She passed Spellbound Sweets, and her witch friend Rain leaned her head out the door. “Hey, Alexis. I didn’t know you were back in town.” A gust of wind kicked up, whipping her dark curls into her face. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”