Mated To The Alpha
Lauren Landish
Contents
Copyright
Introduction
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty-One
22. Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Lauren Landish
Excerpt - Mr. Dark
Copyright © 2015 by Lauren Landish
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.
Introduction
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This book was previously released as “Chosen by the Alpha” under a pen name, and was in serial format. I’ve compiled it and this will now serve as Book One.
When Detective Melanie Richter finds out that a number of her fellow cops are dirty, they hatch a plot to kill her. On the run, she is wounded in a hail of fire during a gun fight. But just as she thinks all hope is lost, a mysterious and sexy man appears out of no where and brings her into a world she never knew existed!
1
One
There’s good things and there’s bad things about a nearly full moon, Melanie thought. On the good side, it gives great illumination, especially as you run for your life through an urban maze of alleyways, parking lots, and side streets, few of which had adequate lighting. The light would be good if she ever had the chance to use the Glock she was holding in her right fist as she ran. She was an expert shot with the pistol, and knew even in the semi-darkness, she could put a round through an orange at fifty feet.
The bad thing, however, was that the people chasing her also had good visibility, and since they currently outnumbered her six to one, she knew that a gun battle was a good way to get killed. So she ran. Through alley after alley, making random lefts and rights to try and throw off pursuit. Melanie was a good cop. She kept herself in tip top shape, but her pursuers were more experienced, more numerous, and better coordinated.
Her biggest problem was that she was being forced to fight on unfamiliar turf. She was new to the Southside, having transferred in from Washington Heights less than a month ago. Her pursuers however were all experienced cops from the Southside. They knew every blind turn, every dead end, and knew where they could take shortcuts.
Rounding a turn, she skidded to a stop. In front of her were two of her pursuers, Ramirez and Gladstone. Both were young, under 25, and in as good or better shape than Melanie. Most worrisome though were that both were pointing SWAT MP7's at her. She dove to her right as both men squeezed off a burst in her direction, narrowly missing her legs while she rolled behind a dumpster.
"Shit!" she muttered, looking around quickly. There wasn't much around, to be honest. The dumpster was against an old warehouse, with no access on this side other than a metal rolling door that she thought looked very securely locked. No help there.
"Me-ellllll, we're coming for you," Ramirez taunted from the other side of the dumpster. "Make it easy on yourself puta, and give up. We might just let you live. Well, if you make it worth our time."
Melanie checked the safety on her Glock, and tried to steady her breathing. Glancing quickly around the edge of the dumpster, she pulled her head back before the two could return fire. She knew she had only moments before the other four men, all members of a corrupt group of cops based out of the Southside, caught up, and then she’d be done for.
Saying a quick prayer to whatever god might be listening, Melanie combat rolled out from behind the dumpster, firing as she came to her knees. Gladstone was arrogant, sure he had his prey secure. His arrogance cost him as Mel put a round directly into his throat, two inches above the body armor he wore. Gladstone's hands flew to his neck, trying futilely to keep his life's fluid in his body. He dropped his MP7, before following by falling face first into the street.
Ramirez, though, was cagier. Mel knew Ramirez was a product of the streets, coming from a tough neighborhood, with rumored gang connections with the Latin Crusade. He had seen firefights before, and was flattening himself against the alley wall even before Melanie could roll up and fire. The jarring impact kept him from firing, saving Mel's life.
Melanie adjusted her sight picture over, squeezing the trigger of her Glock just as Ramirez fired back. Both were hit, Ramirez taking the round high in his thigh. The hollow point bullet shredded through his femoral artery, knocking Ramirez down and causing blood to start jetting into the air. He had no chance of survival, his screams losing power as he fell into unconsciousness and death.
Ramirez's round caught Melanie in the left shoulder, spinning her around and sending her face first to the pavement. Mel screamed in pain, and tried with all her might to get to her feet. Her lead on the other four corrupt cops had to be gone by now, and she had to get going.
Before Melanie could even take a step, she saw all four of them walking calmly down the alleyway. Two of them had similar MP7's that Ramirez and Gladstone carried, at their shoulders and ready to fire. The other two, Sergeant Blanco and Lieutenant Yankowitz, were armed with the same style of Glock Melanie carried. After all, they were all cops.
"Drop it, Mel," Yankowitz said. "I'm not going to lie to you and say you might live. But I’ll at least give you a quick death. If you don’t surrender, I'm going to let Blanco and his boys here put you through hell before they dump your body into the river."
Melanie thought about it for just a second. As she did, the beauty of the night struck her momentarily. Besides the silver gibbous moon shining brightly above her, the narrow band of visible sky showed thousands of stars, diamond pinpricks in the sky. Uncharacteristically for the Southside, the air was clear and sweet, unpolluted by exhaust, rotting food, or any of the thousand other smells that normally permeated the ghetto. Other than her heartbeat, Melanie couldn't hear any other sounds except for the scrape of feet on the pavement. It was a beautiful night. "It's a good day to die," she whispered to herself, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Before she could finish squeezing, a huge shape dropped into the alleyway, blotting out her entire field of view. With a startled squeak, she could feel herself grasped in almost impossibly strong arms, and suddenly she was flying upwards, her hearing muffled as she was pulled against something warm, firm, and impossibly large. She could barely detect the muffled pops as the four men below fired at whatever the hell it was that was holding her, and her next thought was that she co
uldn't breathe. Whatever it was that was holding her, her face was crushed up against a firm wall of what felt like... flesh?
Before Melanie could ponder anything else, she felt her motion come to a stop and she was released. Staggering a step back, she blinked twice, quickly. Standing in front of her was perhaps the most athletic looking man she had ever seen. Six foot four, with massively broad shoulders and chest. He was feral-looking and handsome, with brown-black shoulder length hair, amber eyes, and impossibly white teeth bared in either a grin or a grimace, Melanie wasn't sure which. He was wearing an open black leather trench coat, brown cargo pants, hiking boots, and a white silk shirt.
"Are you hit?" the man asked, his rich baritone voice strained and gasping.
Mel could only nod in shocked amazement. She glanced around, and realized that she was standing on a rooftop, most likely the warehouse next to the alleyway she expected to die in. The scenario was too much for Melanie, and the combined shock of the gunshot, her rescue, and now suddenly on the rooftop was too much for her brain to handle. She felt the darkness closing in, and her last thought was relief that something caught her again.
2
Two
"Detective Richter? Detective Melanie Richter?"
Melanie groaned, and tried to open her eyes. It took a moment, and even after she did, she had to double check she wasn't in a dream. Mel found herself in a palatial bed, softer than any she had ever slept in before. She was covered to her chin by black silk sheets, and she could feel the whisper of silk pajamas against her skin.
"If you're up for it, I'd like to talk."
Melanie blinked again, and focused on the source of the voice. With a swallowed gasp, she saw it was the same man who had rescued her from the alleyway. In the gentle afternoon light coming in through the floor to ceiling windows behind her, he was even more impressive and more handsome than before. He had changed clothes, wearing a charcoal wool suit, black shirt, and blood red tie. He radiated power."Who are you?"
The man smiled, and Mel was again amazed at how white and how long his teeth were. His dark brown eyebrows were large, but not unkempt in any way, and as he smiled, they seemed to curl up on the sides in imitation. His nose was regal, straight and strong. He had a cleft chin, what Mel's father had always referred to as a "butt chin," and a strong jaw line. He was cleanly shaved, and the first word that came to mind to describe the man was powerful. Despite her nervousness and fear, she felt a surge of attraction towards him. "Well, I am glad you can talk," the man replied instead of answering. "If you had stayed unconscious for much longer, we would have had to put in an IV line."
"Who are you?" Melanie repeated, struggling to sit up. She gasped as her left shoulder flexed, and pain flared throughout her body. "Where am I?"
"Please, relax," the man said, gently laying one hand on her right shoulder and urging her down. Melanie could feel an electric tingle in her skin where he had touched her shoulder."I promise, no harm will come to you here. If you struggle though, you will tear your sutures, and you are already going to have an impressive enough scar as it is. My name is Keith Waldwyck. Welcome to Lockwood Towers. You're in the penthouse, currently."
Lockwood Towers. Melanie knew that name. It was one of the most expensive real estate locations in the entire tri-county area, and had won numerous awards for its environmentally friendly design and structure. Rumors about the developer were abound, but nobody knew anything for certain. "Why am I in a high-rise instead of at a hospital?"
"For your safety, Officer Richter. After we escaped last night, those other police officers called in the death of your comrades. You are currently wanted on suspicion of a double cop killing. Their official story was very different from what I observed and know, so I decided to keep you here until you could explain things for me."
"Oh God," Melanie despaired, closing her eyes and leaning back into her pillows. "I'm a dead woman."
"Would you mind explaining to me what you were doing running from six other officers, including a silberjager?"
"A what?"
"Later. You first."
Melanie pondered for a second, then decided she had nothing to lose. "Two months ago, I was working on a kidnapping case in Washington Heights when I observed two police officers conduct a deal with suspected Triads. I later followed the Triads, and figured out that they were kidnapping college girls from near the university for sex slavery in China. These Triads were paying off a group of corrupt cops to derail investigations, dispose of bodies, and basically cover it all up."
"Go on."
"What I didn't know was just how big the conspiracy was. When I brought the whole thing to my Lieutenant and Internal Affairs, I found myself transferred to the Southside. There, I found out that most of the precinct was dirty, and last night they figured was as good a time as any to hunt me down. They wanted to pin a drug deal on me, but when I figured out their plan, it turned into what you dropped into the middle of. Speaking of which, where did you come from last night? And how did we get up to the roof so quickly?"
"I'm a..... naturally good jumper," Keith replied. Mel's cop instincts rang. He was hiding something. "As for where I came from, I tend to go walking when the sky is clear. And finally, it was two nights ago, not last night."
Melanie gasped, her head spinning. Two nights? No wonder she felt so weak. "So what now?"
"Now, it is time for trust. I must reveal to you Detective Richter that I am well aware of the corrupt nature of the police force in this city. I am the leader of a group that has had dealings with these corrupt individuals before. We try to remove them from power, but their influence is strong within the political sphere."
"I see,” Melanie said, noting the cryptic way Keith was talking. She was a little suspicious, but for now she’d have to trust him.
"Unfortunately you do not yet, but time will come. For now, rest. I must go, there are things I must do. Someone will bring you food, or you may use the rest of the penthouse as you wish. I only have one request."
"What's that?"
"For your safety tonight, please don’t try to leave the penthouse. I can only assure your safety inside this suite." Keith got up to leave, powerfully striding towards the oaken bedroom door. Melanie admired the man's build, which she could see clearly for the first time in his tailored Italian suit. Keith was masculine, she decided. It was the only word that could fit him.
"I'm not worried about those cops. I have friends."
Keith stopped, the doorknob held within his powerful hand, and looked back over his shoulder. There was a mysterious light in his amber eyes. "It is not the corrupt police you should worry about. There are greater dangers this night. I shall see you tomorrow."
Keith opened the door and walked through, closing it softly behind him. Mel felt a shiver course down her spine at his last words. She lay there for another ten minutes before her body demanded she get up. Moving gingerly so as to avoid jostling her throbbing shoulder, Melanie found her bearings before standing up on the warm dark oak floor. After a moment of dizziness passed, she walked out the door she had seen Keith leave through earlier, and found herself in a dark green paneled hallway, which seemed to lead to the main living area. While Melanie wanted to explore, first things first. She had to use the bathroom, her bladder was about to burst.
The bathroom was huge, easily larger than the living room of her own small apartment. Like everything she had seen so far in the penthouse, it had a dark forest motif. The bathtub and shower in the corner were done in beautiful granite flecked with gold, while the sink was done in black marble. Melanie took care of her needs and took a deep drink of water from the sink. It was filtered somehow, tasting purer and sweeter than even the Evian she would occasionally indulge in.
Melanie made her way to the main living space, where she was knocked breathless by the opulent decor. Whoever Keith Waldwyck was, the man had money and taste. Every item, from the raw stone fire pit that adorned the center of the room, to the rugged leather couc
hes that surrounded the fire pit, and the bookshelves that lined three of the walls, spoke of a rugged, intelligent mind at work. It bespoke of a more natural time, a more primal, yet no less intelligent era. Melanie was impressed.
As she made her way down into the center circle, Melanie heard a discreet cough coming from off to her left. Startled, she whirled to see a woman standing in a small doorway off to her left. How did she sneak up on her? Melanie was a cop, trained to listen to every sound, but that woman was silent. She was obviously related to Keith, with the same brown hair streaked with black, amber eyes, and pale skin. But where Keith was the epitome of manhood, this woman appeared to be the feminine version of him. Easily six feet tall, she dwarfed Melanie's five foot eight.
"I apologize for startling you, Miss Richter," the woman said. Mel shook her head, waving off the apology.
"It's not your fault. And please, call me Melanie, or Mel if you like. You are...?"
"I am Kimberly Waldwyck, Keith's sister. Keith asked me to make sure you were cared for tonight. I’m sure you’re hungry, would you like something to eat?"
Melanie was thrilled as her stomach reminded her of its presence. "I would love that. What do you have?"
"I do hope you’re not vegetarian, but we do have quite a selection of meats. Any favorites?"
Melanie thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Any pastrami?"
She thought she could see Kimberly smile slightly. "Pastrami it is. I can make a grilled pastrami on rye with sauerkraut. How does that sound?"
Mel smiled, but held her hands up. "You don't need to go through all the trouble. If you point me in the direction of the kitchen, I can make it."
Mated To The Alpha (A Billionaire Shifter Romance) (The Chosen Book 1) Page 1
