She’s ready to run, but so tempted to stay…
Salvation Pack, Book 8
Detective Reece Gallagher is a long way from Salvation, North Carolina. He’s spent a decade in Chicago searching for her—the elusive red-haired woman who haunts his dreams. He knows nothing about her, only that she’s in trouble. After ten fruitless years, he’s ready to give up and go home.
Hannah Burdette is burdened with a secret that won’t allow her to get close to anyone. She’s a half-breed werewolf, targeted by a stalker who wants those of impure blood eliminated.
There’s something different about the arson/murder case Reece and his partner are working on. His heightened senses tell him there’s a werewolf involved. Even more shocking, it’s related to an assault case involving a beautiful redhead in trouble. A scared, wounded woman his wolf wants to protect as his own.
But first Reece must convince her she doesn’t have to be alone anymore. And he’s going to have to talk fast, because the killer has upped the ante—and now they’re both in danger.
Warning: You may lose your heart and soul to one smoking-hot, protective, determined wolf. Read at your own risk.
Wolf in her Soul
N.J. Walters
Dedication
For all of you who love the Salvation Pack as much as I do.
Prologue
The killer wiped the blade of the knife, carefully cleaning the blood from the razor-sharp metal edge. His latest victim stared at him with dead eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled. “You deserved it.” He turned away from the body slumped over in the wooden chair and tucked his blade back into the sheath at the small of his back. He didn’t need a knife to kill his victims, but it did give him a thrill.
Caution was key. He couldn’t allow himself to be caught.
He snorted as he grabbed his leather coat and tugged it on. As if the police could catch him. They were like his victims—inept and rather useless.
He walked back over to the dead body and stared at it for a long time. It would soon be time for him to leave this city and head to the next one. But not yet. He liked Chicago, and he had one more person he needed to kill.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. Bending down, he carefully ignited the flame and touched it to the edge of his victim’s shirt. With a whoosh, the flames shot up the fabric, and soon the entire torso was engulfed.
Satisfied, he tucked the lighter safely away and went up the basement stairs and out the front door of the derelict house. Who knows how long it might take for someone to find his victim if he didn’t do something to alert the authorities. The dead man might not be missed for days, if ever. They would come for the fire and find so much more.
He chose his victims very carefully. These were people who had a secret to keep. He was just helping them keep it. Forever. When he really thought about it, he was doing them a favor by ending their miserable lives. An angel of mercy, that’s what he was.
The thought brought a smile to his face.
He had a talent for the hunt. For finding people who didn’t want to be found. It was his gift, his purpose.
He ambled away from the building, assured the fire would do its job. There would be no evidence of his ever being there. And there would be precious little, if anything, left of his victim.
The city was a cesspool of filth and noise, an assault to his senses. He longed for the fresh air of the countryside, the cool shade of the forest. But he couldn’t go home. Not yet. He wasn’t quite done.
He hummed a jaunty country song under his breath as he made his way through one of the worst neighborhoods in Chicago. He had no fear. He was the superior hunter here, the one at the top of the food chain. A group of young men stood and watched him from the corner of an intersection but didn’t approach.
He smiled as he continued down the street. They were smarter than they looked. They might not understand why they feared him, but they did. And that had kept them alive, at least for another day.
* * * * *
Reece Gallagher walked down a long corridor. He was in a hospital, but he didn’t know which one. A woman walked in front of him. He couldn’t see her face. He never saw her face.
He knew he was dreaming, but there was no stopping it. Like a movie on a screen, the images kept rolling by.
The woman was a little taller than normal, but not by much. Her legs were long and her body appeared slender but strong. The only thing striking about her was her hair. It was long and red and hung in a braid to the middle of her back.
As always, she was just out of reach. He knew he had to save her before it was too late. She started to fade even as he sensed the danger getting closer.
“No!” he yelled as he leapt toward her…
He flew upright in bed, heart pounding and breath coming in hard gasps. “Fuck.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. The dream had been so real. He’d first dreamed about her when he’d turned eighteen, and it had changed the direction of his entire life. He sometimes went long stretches of time without the dreams haunting him, but over the last few months, he’d been having them on a regular basis. He had no idea who the mystery woman was. All he knew was he had to find her.
She was in danger, and he was her only hope.
That sounded both stupid and slightly crazy, so he’d kept the dreams to himself. At first, he hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d just written it off as a strange sleeping vision. But he’d had another six months later, and then another. He had at least two a year, sometimes more, all very similar.
It was pure luck—good or bad, he wasn’t quite sure—he’d seen a few landmarks in a couple of them that had led him to Chicago.
He stood and padded to the window to stare out at the city. He was naked, but since he hadn’t turned on any lights, he didn’t think there was any danger of anyone seeing him. Not that he gave a shit, but he didn’t want the cops showing up at his door to charge him with indecent exposure.
That would be embarrassing considering he was a cop.
The lights from the city went on seemingly forever. He missed Salvation, North Carolina. The place he now considered home. He missed his twin, his Uncle Elias and Aunt Sue, and his stepbrother, Billy. Hell, he missed the entire Salvation Pack. A wolf wasn’t meant to live in a city.
Even now, the urge to run was almost too much to control. The only reason he was still here was because of those damn dreams.
Maybe it was time to think about going home.
He’d been chasing the phantom woman for a decade and was no closer to finding her than he’d been at the beginning. Maybe it was time to let her go and try to find some sort of peace and contentment.
He turned away from the window and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only four in the morning. Too early to go to work, but not too early to run. He might not be able to shift into his wolf, but he could still try to outrun the demons that chased him into sleep.
He strode to the closet and tugged on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. His keys were on the dresser, so he stuffed them in his pocket and then laced on his sneakers. The apartments around his were quiet as he left and took the stairs to the sidewalk.
The October air was cool, but since he was a werewolf, it really didn’t bother him at all. He twisted his neck from side to side to work out some of the kinks and then started down the concrete at a slow lope, picking up speed as he turned the corner.
For ten long years, the woman ha
d haunted him. She’d aged in the dreams. Come to think of it, so had he.
He passed a few people who looked like they were on their way home after a long night out and a couple who were obviously on their way to work. A city truck chugged by and he caught a whiff of garbage and diesel. His feet pounded against the sidewalk, but he couldn’t outrun the dread in his gut.
This had to end soon. He couldn’t keep living like this.
Chapter One
“We’ve caught a new one.”
Reece Gallagher looked up from his computer, happy to get a break from the seemingly endless paperwork that went along with being a detective in the Chicago Police Department. Since he worked in violent crimes investigations, it wasn’t surprising they’d caught yet another case. They always had a heavy workload. “What have we got?”
Detective Sean O’Malley tucked his phone in his pocket. “Arson and possible murder in McKinley Park.” The neighborhood in the southwest side of the city was a tough one, and part of the 9th District where Reece worked and lived.
Reece stood, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, and pulled it on as he followed his partner. “Any witnesses?” Even as he asked, he knew what the answer would be.
Sean snorted and shook his head. “Of course not.”
“When did it happen?” When they reached their unmarked vehicle, Reece automatically went to the driver’s side. He hated being a passenger, much preferred to be in control at all times.
Sean didn’t answer until they were both settled and Reece pulled away from the building. “Last night. They figured arson right away. The building was empty.”
There were a lot of abandoned and derelict buildings in the city, and they were often burned to the ground. Sometimes it was by accident. Squatters took over the spaces and were careless with candles or cigarettes. Most times, it was by design, someone looking for a cheap thrill—someone who didn’t care what kind of damage they might do to surrounding homes or the people who might be in them.
“Where are we going?”
Sean gave him the address. Reece was familiar with every street in his district and didn’t need GPS to help him find it.
“What do we know?” Murder wasn’t uncommon in a city this big, especially in the poorer areas. Too much drugs, alcohol, and despair. The good folks who lived there were working to reclaim their neighborhoods, but it was an uphill battle.
“Not much. The fire department figured it was another arson case. When the debris started cooling and investigators got their first look around, they found what looks like human remains.”
Reece stopped the car at a red light and waited for it to change. They weren’t exactly in a rush. Getting there a few minutes sooner wouldn’t change the outcome for the poor dead soul they were going to help. “They’re not sure.”
Sean shook his head. “Fire destroyed most of the body. They have what looks to be leg bones and a partial skull. They’re not touching it until forensics arrives.”
The light changed and Reece drove the car through the city streets until they arrived at their destination. It was easy enough to find with the flashing lights from the squad cars and the group of people from the neighborhood all gathered on the far side of the police tape.
Reece parked the car and surveyed the group. All too often, the perpetrator of the crime couldn’t resist returning to be a part of the crowd. He climbed out, pocketing the keys as he walked toward the scene.
Half the building was standing, but it was a burned-out shell. Someone had to have called in the fire before it got too out of hand. A dilapidated fence, with flecks of white paint still clinging to the wood, separated the yard from the sidewalk. Although, to call it a yard was being kind. It was about three feet of thick weeds and dirt.
The senior investigator broke away and met Reece and Sean halfway to the crime scene. “Teams from forensics and the medical examiner’s office just got here and are inside. The body is in what’s left of the concrete basement.”
“How was the fire started?” Sean asked.
The inspector wiped his brow and shook his head. “Unknown accelerant. Something made the body burn fast and hot. The house is old and wooden. It didn’t take long for the entire thing to be engulfed.”
Reece listened with half an ear as he scanned the crowd. He saw sadness mingled with excitement. He took note of a group of young men on the far edge of the police line. They were talking quietly among themselves. It might be a good idea to question them.
“Ready?” Sean was beside him and the inspector was on his way to his truck.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” He hated this part of his work. With his heightened senses, the stench from a crime scene was overwhelming at times. Of course, those same senses helped him find the perpetrator. It was a tradeoff. One he’d decided was worth it years ago.
At twenty-eight, he was young to be a detective, but he’d risen fast through the ranks of the CPD. The Chicago Police Department had recognized his skill and rewarded him accordingly.
Sean was a decade older and nearing burnout. Reece could see the signs even if his partner couldn’t. He figured Sean would either soon retire or move into administrative work.
The ground was soggy and muddy, a combination of water from the fire hoses and the dirt from what had passed for a small yard in the front of the house. The houses on either side had minor damage, but both were abandoned. At least the firefighters hadn’t had to worry about trying to save the homes while they’d fought the blaze.
A set of concrete stairs led down. Debris was piled all around, but a path had been cleared. Reece breathed through his mouth, but there was no escaping the stench of charred wood, the sweat from the forensics team and the firefighters still on scene, and the lingering smell of burnt flesh. None of the others would be able to detect the last one, but Reece could.
Sometimes being a werewolf sucked. Technically, he was known as a half-breed, even though he was three-quarters werewolf.
His acute vision picked over the surrounding debris before focusing on the area where the forensics team was gathered.
Reece moved off to the side, circling slowly, careful to watch where he put his feet. Sure enough, the area where they’d discovered the bones seemed to be the most heavily burned, as though the fire had radiated out from that point.
He sniffed the air again but couldn’t make out any accelerant. Strange. He usually had no trouble detecting chemicals of any kind.
“Be careful.” A member from the medical examiner’s team cautioned the forensics technician currently working the site.
“Shit.”
Reece moved closer as the technician jerked back and raised his gloved hands. “I didn’t touch the bone. I didn’t,” the technician insisted.
As they all watched, the bone turned to dust and crumbled into nothingness, disintegrating before their very eyes.
“We’ll be lucky to find any DNA to make an ID.” The man who’d issued the warning turned to his colleague. “We’re going to need sample bags, not a body bag. There’s not enough of this guy left to examine except under a microscope.”
Fuck. Reece swore inwardly. Outwardly, he looked as calm as he ever did.
“What do you make of this?” Sean asked. Like Reece, his partner had been watching the proceedings, taking in everything.
“Damned if I know.” Problem was, he thought he might know. There was only one reason a body would burn so hotly and completely without an accelerant, a way that the body would turn to dust so that nothing remained to be examined. Leastwise, only one he could think of.
Whoever had died here was most likely a werewolf—or at least a partial one.
He prayed he was wrong and that the forensics team would find another explanation. Reece didn’t think they would. This was a clusterfuck of massive proportions. He sniffed the air, but there were too many smells. The
re was no way he could pick up the scent of the killer.
“You okay, buddy?” Sean asked.
Reece nodded. “Yeah.” The word came out as almost a growl and Sean’s eyes widened. Reece had to get himself back under control before he did something stupid. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn waste is all.”
Sean clapped him on the back. “I hear you.” He looked around. “Not much else we can do here.” He left Reece and went to speak to both the forensics team and the men from the medical examiner’s office. Reece knew he was making sure that all reports would be sent to them. For all the good they’d do. This would go down as an unsolved homicide.
They’d be lucky if they could ever identify who’d died here.
Reece headed toward the stairs. He needed some fresh air and a moment to think.
He had to be wrong. Werewolves generally didn’t live in cities, preferring the countryside. But many half-breeds made their homes in larger centers for just that reason. Most full-bloods looked down on half-breeds, driving them from their packs if they didn’t kill them outright.
Could this be a pack slaying? Had they followed a half-breed into the city and killed him? Or had a wolf simply stumbled across a half-breed and murdered him?
Reece kept thinking of the victim as a man, but it could just as easily be a woman.
The thought gave him chills.
The Salvation Pack, his pack, was different from others. They had humans, half-breeds, and full-blooded members. They were more than just a pack. They were a family.
Whoever had perpetrated this crime would have no trouble killing Reece or his twin brother. Their bloodlines weren’t pure, tainted through their mother because she’d been a half-breed.
He wanted to track down the killer and show him just how dangerous a half-breed could be. Reece was an anomaly, something so rare it was a thing of myth and legend. It was unusual enough that his parents had managed to have a child at all. It was rare for half-breeds to have children. To be a twin was like winning the lottery, so against the odds it was thought impossible. But Reece was even more than that. He was a half-breed who could actually shift into a wolf.
Wolf in her Soul: Salvation Pack, Book 8 Page 1
