“I won’t deny there’s something between us. I can’t, but I need more time. I just...I need more time. I’m being pulled in too many directions.”
“There will always be cases.”
“Hopefully not ones with you as a suspect.” She gave him a bemused smile. “Until this case is solved and the real killer is behind bars, I have to stay focused. You may not be guilty, but you are a distraction.”
He chuckled. “You have a unique way with compliments, Detective.” He cradled her jaw and ran a thumb over her lips, as soft as the petal of the rose he’d compared her to earlier.
When they pulled up to the station, she placed fingertips over his mouth as he leaned toward her. “Time?”
He nodded, gripped her wrist, and pressed a kiss into her palm instead. “Where are you going tonight?”
Moving to get out, she glanced back. “Home, why?”
“You seemed worried about that note.”
She stuck her hand in her pocket, which muffled the crackle of the paper. “It’s just some police business. I’ll handle it. Good night.”
“Until later.”
He waited only as long as it took the cab to pull onto the street.
“A hundred dollars bonus for you,” he told the cabby, “if you can get me back to the restaurant in less than ten minutes.”
As the driver floored it, Rafe pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. “Luc...”
Mackenzie watched the taxi until it disappeared from view. She glanced at her watch again. She had just enough time to change, contact Cooper, and get to the docks. She wanted to get there before the time on the note to check out the warehouse.
Snitches often picked remote locations at odd hours for their contacts, especially those who wished to remain anonymous. Being pegged for a snitch in their own neighborhoods could prove painful or even deadly for some, but she didn’t like going into a meeting blind.
After changing into a spare pair of jeans she kept in her locker, she strapped on her holster, checked the ammo in her firearm, and covered it all up with her bomber jacket.
Heading for her car, she tried Cooper’s cell number and left a message when she got his voice mail. Where the hell was he? She thought about having dispatch reach him but decided against it. If he was out by O’Hare, he’d never make it to the rendezvous location on time anyway.
This information better be worth the trouble.
As she drove to the meeting, she pondered Hahn’s veiled threat. His constant attempts to undermine her career pissed her off. Of all people, he should know how important the job was to her; she’d chosen it over him.
He’d claimed to have called off their relationship and then married the first bimbo he came across to save face. That was all fine with her. If he wanted to salve his inflated ego with lies, she could handle it.
Rafe had been right about her running. She’d let the idea that she’d finally given Hahn the ammo he needed send her into a panic. If he’d misread the situation between her and Rafe, she could fight it. But how did one fight the truth?
She was attracted to Rafe. She never would’ve let another suspect do the things he’d done to her. She’d compromised everything she believed in each time she let him touch her, kiss her, and plow past her defenses.
“What defenses?” she quipped to herself. Her weakness frightened her into lashing out emotionally when she needed to be calm, focused, and cool as ice. There was a killer on the streets of Chicago, and he wasn’t going to wait around for her to get her personal life in order.
The warehouse came into view, and Mackenzie pushed aside any stray thoughts as she studied the building and its surroundings. She drove completely around it before parking out front.
She was early.
No signs of life.
For several minutes, she inspected the dimly lit exterior and dark, shadowy spaces where vermin could hide. She reached up and flipped the switch on the car’s interior light so it wouldn’t come on when the door opened. After unzipping her jacket, she got out and made her way carefully toward the front door.
The salty scent off the lake permeated the air. The moon at three-quarters full helped illuminate the concrete yard around the area, but the glow gave the industrial landscape an eerie atmosphere.
Her breathing became more controlled, her senses more alert. Her heart raced, pumping an adrenalin rush through her body that she fought to contain.
Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t back out now. If there was the slimmest chance of getting information that could solve the two homicides, she had to check out the lead.
She pulled her Glock from its holster, put her back against the wall, and turned the doorknob. A squeak exploded from the hinges as the door swung open, then blessed silence.
Mackenzie entered fast and low, gun raised to fire, but nothing leaped at her from the darkness. Her back plastered to a large piece of machinery, she took several shallow breaths and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Thin trails of moonlight pierced the blackness from dirty, cracked windows near the roof. The tiny beams cast the rest of the interior into the deepest pitch.
Her nose rebelled against the stench of oil, grease, and other unidentifiable odors.
She surveyed the area and decided on a spot where she could watch the door and wait for the snitch, if he showed. Cautiously, she moved to the new location and settled into the shadows.
Time ticked by at a snail’s pace. Her butt was going to sleep. She wanted to check the time on her watch, but didn’t dare chance the green glow giving away her position. Another few minutes and she’d call it a night. A false alarm. Prank call.
She didn’t hear it, but sensed it. A change. A slight shift of shadow, smooth and predatory. Mackenzie eased to her feet, which sent a team of angry ants crawling through her legs, restoring circulation.
Something darted across a narrow gap between machinery, a blur in the periphery that caught her attention. She edged forward.
One silent step.
Two.
With gun raised.
Three.
A stray cat’s hiss sliced her heart and propelled her back a step.
The bullet grazed her forehead instead of penetrating her skull. Her move, made in fear, had saved her life.
At the sound of the gunfire, the tomcat darted for safer shadows.
Dazed, Mackenzie turned to face the threat when another leaped out at her from the side. A dark figure, much larger than the cat, plowed into her as a second shot blasted the silence of the night.
Chapter Twelve
She heard the second bullet impact flesh but had little time to process the information as she rolled on top of Rafe.
What the hell was he doing here?
Through the haze of blood in her eyes, Mackenzie aimed at the muzzle flash and returned fire. Despite fresh aches and pains all over, adrenaline kept her moving as time stopped. Forcing herself to leave Rafe, she ran after the perp. She maneuvered through the warehouse to close in on the shooter, and then heard the slap of fleeing feet on concrete.
She stopped at a back door as more bullets slammed into the doorjamb. When she heard him run again, she wheeled into the doorway and shouted, “Stop, Police!” But the man kept running. He spun, raising his arm to shoot just as a flash of brilliant gold light backlit her. Cursing, she dove for cover, rolled, and fired. The man stumbled from the apparent impact of a bullet, turned, and dove, or fell, off the docks into the murky waters below.
Mackenzie swiped at her forehead, smearing the blood that oozed down her face. She ran to the edge and searched for the gunman but saw nothing in the inky depths that slapped rhythmically at the shore.
She had to check on Rafe. She hadn’t seen him get up from where they’d landed. Her forehead on fire, her eyes stinging, and her muscles burning, she raced back to the warehouse. She reached for her cell phone but cursed when she realized it wasn’t in her pocket.
“Rafe!”
Panic lanced
her chest when her cry went unanswered.
She dashed around a large crane and froze. Her gun came up, aimed directly at the huge black wolf that sat where Rafe should’ve been.
“No.” She couldn’t see. She wiped at her eyes. The killer—the wolf—she had to see. Find Rafe. Her mind and body screamed.
Mackenzie. Don’t shoot.
Relief accompanied the sound of his voice. “Rafe, where are you?” Her head spun as she searched for him through the red fog. She kept the gun on the wolf, even though he hadn’t moved. She’d shoot if he moved. “God, are you all right?”
I’m fine. Mackenzie, please put the gun down.
She blinked. His voice felt like it was inside her head. The pain throbbed. Was she losing her mind?
Blackness surrounded her. The night crept in to engulf her. Her hands started to shake.
“Rafe?” She hated the hint of terror in her voice.
The stray cat was somewhere in the darkness. Her gaze darted to the right, the left, and back to the wolf. Where’d he come from? Was the killer here? Was she seeing things?
Mackenzie. Honey, please.
One fist went to her temple, and she squeezed her eyelids shut. “You’re in my mind, but... God, what’s happening to me?”
Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re safe. Mackenzie, you’re not alone.
“Where are you? Rafe?”
Honey, I’m right here. Don’t shoot me.
She blinked at the wolf down the barrel of her gun. He remained perched on top of Rafe’s clothes, watching her.
His clothes. “Oh my God. Your clothes...”
As if he understood, the wolf looked down.
Mackenzie’s gun fell to her side. Her knees collapsed beneath her. She sat, dumbfounded and unaffected by the cold, hard concrete floor.
Mackenzie! Are you all right? The wolf’s ears perked up. One paw moved forward hesitantly.
Her voice was a whisper of shocked uncertainty. “Rafe? Is that you?”
When the wolf nodded, Mackenzie thought her eyes would pop out of her head. Her mouth fell open, and she rubbed her eyes with the backs of both hands, smearing the blood that continued to trickle from her head wound.
She must have passed out. This was some kind of dream.
“This isn’t happening. Rafe, come out here where I can see you. Now. This isn’t funny.”
The wolf’s head tilted curiously. Does it look like I’m laughing?
She glanced around, seeking the origin of...her thoughts? She wasn’t hearing his voice, yet it was so clear in her mind.
The wolf moved forward with head bowed low.
“Stop.” She forgot about the gun as she raised an empty hand toward the wolf.
He paused. Mackenzie. I’m here in front of you. No joke. No hallucination.
When she didn’t speak, he moved again. Cautious. Wary. His muzzle nudged her hand, and air burst from her lungs. He was real. This was happening. Her fingers curved along his jaw and dipped into the silky softness of his pelt. She wasn’t dreaming.
The wolf came closer, sat, and stared at her. And she knew the truth. Those were Rafe’s eyes.
“How...How can this be?”
You hold my life in your hands, Mackenzie. I told you I believed in you tonight. Now, I’m breaking one of the most sacred rules of my kind and entrusting you with a secret more precious to me than anything I own.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she couldn’t look away from his eyes. Rafe’s eyes.
I’m a Lycan, a species that’s been on earth for centuries. We take on two forms: one of man, the other wolf.
“You’re a werewolf?”
No. I’m Lycan, not some mythical hybrid of beast and human that devours the innocent during each full moon. The Lycans are a race, not unlike humans but with special gifts...abilities. We live in secrecy because of the dangers inherent in discovery. We live peacefully and according to the laws of both humans and the Pack.
“You really are talking in my head.” She didn’t bother hiding the awe in her voice.
Yes. It’s how we communicate while in wolf form.
She suddenly recalled thoughts she’d had about him while in his presence. Her eyes widened, and then narrowed to slits. “You can read minds?”
His ears perked up, and his head tilted in curious observation. Amusement tinged the voice that answered in her mind. I wish I could. Then maybe I’d know what thoughts put that rosy color back in your cheeks.
“This is so surreal.”
The wolf...Rafe...walked away.
“Where are you going?”
He picked up his shirt in his mouth and brought it to her. Here. Use this to stem the flow of blood from that wound. He sat beside her. You took seven years off my life tonight.
She lifted the material and noticed the bloodstain on the silk. “Oh, damn it!” Suddenly, her hands were all over him. “Where were you shot? Are you—”
I’m fine. Mac... Stop. Mackenzie! That tickles. The wolf leaped back. I’m fine now. Really.
“How is that possible?” She gave a shaky laugh. “Listen to me. I’m talking to a wolf. How’s any of this possible?”
This is not exactly the way I’d planned on you finding out. The gunshot is why I changed. I had to.
She sat back on her heels, wiped her face off, and pressed his shirt to the cut on her forehead. “What do you mean?”
The transition can heal most wounds, even gunshots, but we must have enough energy to complete the change or we could die in the process. I was lucky.
She gaped at him. “You were lucky?”
Yes. Not even the transition can heal critical wounds like bullets to the heart or brain. In those cases the change can’t occur.
She slugged him.
What the...
“You could’ve been killed!” She swung again but missed when his agility proved effective. “Don’t you ever do something like that again. You could’ve died, damn it.” The wolf dodged another swing, bowed low and pounced, knocking her backward.
I’m okay. Rafe pinned her down and held still as her fists beat at his sides, then gripped his fur in a desperate hug. It’s okay.
“It’s not okay.” A flood of emotions bubbled over as a tear slipped from her right eye. “It’s not.” She turned her face away, unwilling to delve any deeper into why the thought of his being harmed hurt her so much. “Don’t you get it? You could’ve died because of me. What the hell were you thinking?”
He rose on all fours and moved off her. I did what I had to do. I’d do it again if necessary.
Exhausted, she struggled to push herself to her feet. “How’d you find me in the first place?”
She searched for her phone and paused when she realized he hadn’t answered her question. “Well?”
I followed you.
Some cop she was. She’d been so busy with her own thoughts on her way here, she hadn’t spotted the tail.
She found her phone and flipped it open. She had to call this in. It was probably too late for divers, but they could secure the area until dawn. As she relayed the information to dispatch, Rafe sat watching her.
She returned his scrutiny. “You look like your pet, G,” she said after hanging up.
I should. He’s my brother.
“He’s your...Wait. No. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I need you to change back.” She waved a hand at him. “So do whatever it is that you do to be human again.”
No.
“Rafe, I don’t have time to argue with you. Change back.”
No.
“Damn it, I’m investigating a murder involving unknown canines. I can’t have you wandering around the city as a wolf.” Her eyes widened. “Canines...The killer. He’s Lycan, isn’t he? That’s why you were willing to help with the investigation when I first asked.”
It’s a possibility we’re looking into.
“You’re looking into? You’re...Who the hell’s the cop here?”
You aren’
t Lycan, Mackenzie. You’ve no idea what you’re up against if the killer is Lycan.
She suddenly realized to what extent his trust in her reached. He was a suspect in the murders, and being a Lycan made him even more of a suspect. Not that anyone would believe her story if she did report it. And yet, for some reason the knowledge exonerated him in her mind. He’d never have revealed such a secret if he were guilty of the crimes. He would not have risked exposure or put his life on the line to save her either, but he’d done both tonight. The least she could do was protect him...and his secret.
“Change back, now. We’ve got to get you out of here.” She picked up her gun and the rest of his clothes.
I can’t.
That stopped her. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
Not yet. The transition takes a lot of energy and, when healing is involved, it takes even more. I have to recover from that first. I’ll need at least another hour or more before I can risk the transition again.
“But the uniforms will be here any minute. Okay. Wait. Let me think.” She headed for her car with a wolf trailing behind her. “Where’s the cabby. I’ll get rid of him first.”
I came in the Jag. It’s parked a couple blocks from here at one of my properties.
“You had time to go pick up your car and still follow me?” She hadn’t thought she’d spent that much time at the station. She understood how a cab could blend into traffic, but how had she missed the Jaguar tailing her?
He paused. Amazing what a good tip can do to motivate cab drivers.
“Humph.” She tossed his clothes into the back seat of her car. “Get in and stay low. Maybe I can avoid questions if no one notices you. And for God’s sake don’t bark at anyone.”
Real funny. His tail swatted her as he leapt into the back.
More than an hour passed before Mackenzie finally returned to the car and left the crime scene in the hands of other officers. She’d had to give a statement, help secure the scene until forensics could arrive, and argue with the medic an officer called in after seeing the slash on her head. She’d compromised by accepting a helpful dose of Tylenol and a bulky bandage in place of a trip to the ER.
Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Page 16
