Jagers Mate
( Roxie's Protectors - 2 )
Marisa Chenery
Daylen is a cop, and a good one. When she discovers two men sword fighting in an alley during one of her nightly patrols, she confronts them, ordering them to put down their weapons. One of the men takes off running, surprising her with his speed. With one man left, she knows she'll have to take him down when he ignores her demands. With her suspect in her grasp, her world turns upside down when he pins her to the ground and kisses her senseless.
Jager knows no wilting flower, werewolf or mortal, would ever survive as his mate, but this cop has all the right moves. Her scent leaves no doubt this mortal woman is his, and after tasting her lips, he knows claiming her will be a challenge. The bigger problem, however, might be her obsession to arrest him whenever they meet. As their passion flares, he'll do anything it takes to make her his mate.
Jager's Mate
Roxie's Protectors - 2
by
Marisa Chenery
Chapter One
Jager silently followed the lone wolf who walked up ahead of him at a discreet distance. He kept his gaze locked on the other werewolf’s back while he wove his way through the people who shared the sidewalk in this busy section of downtown San Francisco. More than a few of the buildings that lined the street were restaurants, bars or nightclubs. Jager had followed the lone wolf out of one of said nightclubs.
He’d gone to the Hot Spot, which had been anything but after Leif, his brother-in-arms, had heard a rumor going around about a lone wolf trying to recruit other lone wolves for a new cause at this particular nightclub. Leif had come by this information from a bar he liked to frequent to pick up female werewolves who were unmated and wanted to share their beds for a bit of fun. In some ways, Leif’s womanizing paid off when he came across a bit of information such as this.
Jager watched the lone wolf duck into an alley between two buildings at the end of the street where most of the crowd had thinned. Increasing his speed, he quickly followed. Once he was inside the alley, Jager opened the front of his long black duster and brushed it to one side as he reached for the hilt of his sword. It made a slight hissing sound when he pulled it free of its scabbard. Taking a quick look behind him to make sure no mortals were able to see him from the opening into the alley, Jager stealthily walked halfway down the passage. It was quite dark, but with his keen werewolf sight, he could see just as well as if it were day time instead of night. Only one weak, exposed light bulb shone above a door that opened up onto the alley. His steps slowed when he caught the glint of light that suddenly flashed in his eyes. At the same time, he heard a sword being drawn. A smile spread across Jager’s face. It looked as if this lone wolf wanted to play. And that he carried a concealed sword on him, it more than likely having been strapped to his back under his leather jacket, marked him as one of Miles’ recruits.
The average werewolf didn’t carry swords nowadays.
The sound of a low growl drifted over to Jager after he came to a stop a short distance away from the lone wolf. He looked the other werewolf over. Like all of his kind, the lone wolf was taller than the average mortal, but he was about an inch shorter than Jager, which put him at about six foot eight. He was muscular as well, but Jager figured he had a few extra pounds of muscle on him that the lone wolf didn’t have.
Strength-wise they would be pretty close, but it all came down to how well the lone wolf could handle his sword. Jager planned to beat his ass, but he hoped the altercation would last longer than a few seconds. There was nothing more that Jager enjoyed than a good sword fight. Just the thought of it made his blood pump a little bit faster through his veins.
“So, lone wolf, you think you’re man, or should I say, werewolf enough to take on the likes of me,” Jager said as he moved closer. “I’ll give you fair warning. You point a sword in my direction you better know how to use the damn thing.”
The lone wolf snarled and growled menacingly at the same time. “Let me guess. You must be one of the Protector’s who watch over the foretold one. Miles warned us about you.”
Jager chuckled. “I’m sure he did. Yes, I’m one of the Protectors. And did dear old Miles tell you that he used to be one of us before he decided to go bad?”
“Miles told us how unfairly he was treated while he was one of the Protectors, and how he was given no choice but to leave and try to find the foretold one for himself.”
Jager snorted. The only way Miles had been treated “unfairly” was when it had been decided by his grandmother, who had brought all the Protectors together, that his sister, Saskia, would lead them instead of him. Miles had been so enraged that he hadn’t been chosen to be their leader he had forsaken his sister and his grandmother, swearing he would be the one to find the foretold one and use him or her for his own benefits. Now that Roxie had come forward and declared herself as the foretold one, Jager and the rest of her Protectors knew it would only be a matter of time before Miles made his move.
Raising his sword, Jager let his gaze run over the gleaming blade before he pinned a hard stare on the lone wolf. “Enough of the idle chitchat. How about we get down to business? The night isn’t getting any younger, and I’m itching for a fight.”
Instead of answering him, the lone wolf growled once more and took the first strike as he closed the distance between them. Jager easily blocked the blade and took a strike of his own. He felt a surge of hope that he might actually have a worthy opponent when the lone wolf circled out of range at the last minute. Grinning widely, Jager swung his sword up to meet the lone wolf’s next blow. Fun and games were definitely on.
* * *
Daylen Reardon drove her police cruiser down the busy downtown street. She looked from right to left as she did her regular patrol. She didn’t expect any trouble, but with the bars and nightclubs on this particular street, there was always a chance she would come across a few patrons who had indulged just a little too much. If Daylen spotted an individual weaving down the street, she usually pulled over to make sure they had an alternative means of getting home besides getting into a car to drive.
She had been a cop for the last five years and loved the job. When she put on her uniform and strapped on her gun, she knew she was doing a service for her city to help make it a better place. Not that she thought she did it all by herself, but she liked that she was doing her part.
Nearing the end of the street, she slowed the cruiser preparing to take the next left in her circuit. Daylen happened to glance out the passenger window at an alley sandwiched between two buildings. What she saw had her hitting the brakes and pulling over to the curb.
After she turned off the cruiser’s engine, Daylen got out and locked the door behind her. As she made her way slowly to the entrance of the alley, she pocketed the car keys and pulled out her flashlight. Turning it on, she aimed the beam of light at what she thought she saw. The alley was semi-dark, but Daylen had always had pretty good night vision. When the light from her flashlight hit the middle of the alley, she knew she hadn’t been imagining what she had seen from the cruiser.
With the flashlight still held in her left hand, Daylen unclipped the holster in case she needed to draw her gun while she quietly approached the two men who were going at each other with a pair of swords. Now this wasn’t something she saw every day on her patrols.
Daylen didn’t call out to the men, deciding to wait until she was a bit closer. As she slowly walked nearer, she could hear growling sounds that sounded all too animal-like to her. They were mixed in with the sound of the men’s swords clashing. The men themselves were big brutes. One had short black hair, was well over six and a half feet and wore jeans along with a black leather jacket. He appeared to be the one making
the growling sounds as he swung his sword at his opponent. The other had long light brown hair pulled back in a pony tail, was just a bit taller than the other man, and wore a long black duster over his dark jeans. Daylen also noticed he had an expression of glee on his face, and a smile that seemed to get wider with each blow that came at him.
Daylen shook her head. They had to be a couple of kooks. At first, she thought the swords couldn’t be real, but when the black-haired man ended up catching the blade of the other man’s sword across his cheek and blood welled, she had her proof that they were. Just what she needed, a pair of crazies whacking at each other with real swords.
Having come close enough to the two men that she would be able to catch them if they decided to take off running, Daylen aimed the beam of her flashlight at their faces.
“All right, boys, time to put the swords down,” she said in her best, loud, and authoritative police officer voice.
Both men lowered their swords and turned to face her. Daylen opened her mouth to ask what the hell they thought they were doing when the black-haired man spun around, ran down toward the opposite end of the alley and disappeared into the darkness. Daylen blinked. The man had run so fast she’d had a hard time tracking him with her eyes. She’d never seen anyone move that fast before. She hadn’t even had a chance to yell at him to stop.
Knowing the other man hadn’t moved from where he stood, Daylen focused her attention on him. With her flashlight once again aimed at his face, she had to admit he was one good-looking kook. A male model came to mind when she took in his chiseled cheekbones, straight nose and firm, full lips. Against her will, her gaze settled on his lips for a few seconds longer than necessary. If he hadn’t been a kook, and she wasn’t on duty, Daylen would have liked to get to know him better. She might be a cop, but she was a woman also, and right now, she found herself more than a little attracted to the man that stood before her.
Putting her mind back on the task at hand, Daylen said, “Put the sword on the ground and take a step away from it.”
The man’s nostrils flared slightly when he took a deep breath. His gaze latched onto her, staring at her so intently Daylen found herself reacting in a way she shouldn’t. His light blue-eyed gaze looked her up and down, leaving a trail of goose bumps under her uniform wherever it touched. Her breasts seemed to grow heavy, and her nipples tightened when his gaze settled on them. Daylen’s breath hitched at seeing the look of arousal that lurked in the man’s eyes. He made no move to put down the sword he held.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “Put the sword down,” she said louder.
This time he slowly brushed the left side of his duster aside to reveal a scabbard that hung at his side. He sheathed the sword in it while he kept his gaze locked to hers. For a brief second, Daylen swore she saw his light blue eyes glow mutedly as he started to close the distance between them. With the beam of her flashlight still shining on his face, she had to think it was a trick of the light.
She put her right hand on top her gun. “Stay where you are and put your hands behind your head. If you don’t do it, I will draw my gun.”
“What are you going to do? Handcuff me?” he asked in a deep, sexy drawl. “I may like that.” He continued to slowly move toward her.
Daylen had yet to fire her gun in the line of duty. She didn’t want tonight to be the night that she had to, but if the man in front of her decided to pull out his sword again and think to use it on her, she would do whatever was necessary to take him down.
“Carrying a concealed weapon is a major offense. Resisting arrest will make it that much worse for you. Why don’t you just cooperate and make it easier for the both of us?”
A grin spread across his lips that Daylen had to admit made the man look even sexier. “Sorry, but I’m not going to let you arrest me,” he said.
Figures. The kooks never wanted to be taken away without kicking up some kind of fuss. Not wanting this to draw out any longer than it had to, Daylen waited until he came within range. She dropped her flashlight and grabbed him by one arm as she used a karate move to kick his legs out from under him. Having caught him off guard, she managed to get him down face first on the ground with his hands behind him. She sat on his back, pinning his arms between her legs as she reached for her handcuffs that were in a leather case attached to her belt. With her other hand, she kept the side of his face pressed to the ground.
The handcuffs now out of their case, Daylen started to read the man his rights. “You have the right to remain silent. Everything—”
She never got to finish. One second she had him pinned, ready to cuff his hands behind him, and then the next, he had bucked her off. With a move faster than she could react to, he had her on her back with his large body on top of hers. He manacled her wrists in one strong hand as he grabbed the handcuffs and tossed them away.
Shit. Now she was in trouble. Even though his grip didn’t hurt, Daylen couldn’t break free of his hold. She tried to buck him off like he had done to her, but he was solid muscle and didn’t budge an inch.
Daylen gazed up at him not sure what he would do next. Instead of seeing malice in his eyes, he stared down at her with intense longing. Against her will, her heart started to beat a little faster. The longer he held her gaze the more her body reacted. Instead of being afraid of what he would actually do to her, she found herself becoming aroused. An ache pounded between her legs, and she started to breathe faster. And, if she was not mistaken, he was aroused as well. She could feel the hard length of his cock pressed against her thigh where he had her legs pinned between his.
He felt way too good pressed against her body. That had Daylen once more trying to buck him off. She shouldn’t be getting turned on by a guy who obviously had a few screws loose. She had to stay professional. He was the bad guy, and she was the cop.
When she arched her back again to try and throw him off, he made a low sound deep inside his chest that sounded pretty damn close to something a wild animal would make.
She instantly stilled beneath him.
He shook his head. “Keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for what I do to you.
I’m barely holding back as it is.” He shoved the collar of her shirt aside with his hand before he buried his nose in the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. He dragged his tongue across the skin where her shoulder and neck met. “God, you smell good.” He then lifted his head and looked down at the name tag pinned to the front of her shirt. “Officer Daylen Reardon, I would like to continue what’s started here, but I don’t think you’ll be as cooperative as I want you to be. We’ll have to finish this another time. But I’m not going to leave before I’ve gotten a taste of you.”
Before Daylen knew what he was about to do, he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her. His lips moved over hers gently before his tongue came out and pushed its way inside her mouth. He swept the inside of it, tasting her thoroughly, twining his tongue with hers.
The man might be a kook, but he sure knew how to kiss a woman senseless. Unable to stop herself from kissing him back, Daylen felt her body go up in flames with each stroke of his tongue. He licked and sucked at her lips as she found herself sinking deeper and deeper into a fog of arousal. Her brain seemed to only be functioning at half power.
A part of her knew this was so very wrong, but another baser part of her had taken over and wanted more. The feel of his well-muscled body pressed against hers just sent her arousal to greater heights. She moaned softly into his mouth.
Then his lips were gone, along with the weight of his body that had been pressing down on top of her. Now free, Daylen sat up and caught sight of the back of the man’s duster as he ran down the alley in the same direction the other man had taken. Then he was gone.
What the hell is wrong with me? Daylen stood and grabbed her flashlight that lay on the ground not far away. Using its light, she found her handcuffs. If another cop had been present to see what had taken place, Daylen knew there would
be questions as to whether or not she could do her job. And she wouldn’t have been able to blame them. She’d just let a criminal kiss her stupid while she basically did nothing to stop him. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d gotten away on top of it all.
Calling herself the lamest woman to walk the face of the earth, Daylen headed back to her police cruiser. Just as she got back inside the driver’s side, she remembered what he had said before he’d kissed her—they would finish this another time. Whatever the hell he meant by that.
Daylen started the cruiser and pulled away from the curb to continue with her patrol.
She knew one thing. If she ever did see him again, she’d be more prepared. She wouldn’t let his lips anywhere near her. Instead, she’d make him kiss the dirt as she cuffed his ass before hauling him off to jail. There was no way in hell she would let the man make a fool of her twice. No matter how attractive he was, and how he made her want things she shouldn’t. Daylen wouldn’t think twice about arresting him. The man had better hope they didn’t cross paths again, for his sake.
Chapter Two
Jager ran down the street to where he had parked his black Chevy Camaro. He’d tried to pick up the trail of the lone wolf after he’d left the woman cop in the alley, but he’d lost it once he’d reached the street. The bastard must have had a vehicle parked there and had made good his escape.
After getting into his Camaro and pulling away to make the drive back to Marin County where he lived with the rest of Roxie’s Protectors, Jager thought about the woman cop, Daylen. She had been totally unexpected, and not because she was a cop that happened to come across him and the lone wolf sword fighting. No, it had been his reaction to her. One whiff of her scent and he’d become cemented in place. All his senses had become riveted onto her, like he’d suddenly developed tunnel vision and only she existed. The wolf inside him had thrown back its head and howled. And, inside his head, the word “mine” had repeated itself over and over again. He’d at last found his mate.
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