Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct

by Brandi Broughton

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Are you okay? I also called to tell you I’d be working late, but if you need me...”

  She twisted the phone cord around her index finger. “No. You go ahead. I’ll be fine. By the way, did you have someone from Stone Corp. call Cooper with a tip on the potential backdoor?”

  A pause. “Why would you think that?”

  A smile tugged at her mouth. “I thought so. Thanks, Rafe.”

  “Anytime, Detective. I’ll see you soon.”

  Her smile spread into a grin as she hung up the phone.

  A few hours later, after raiding her near-empty refrigerator, she was calling for a pizza delivery when her doorbell rang.

  A quick peek and she opened the door to see Cooper standing in the hall.

  “Good, you’re home. Grab your jacket. Let’s go.”

  She didn’t have to be told twice. She hung up on the pizza guy, grabbed her coat, and followed Cooper to his car.

  “What’s happened?”

  “It was your hunch that tipped the scales.”

  “Slow down. Which hunch? Where are we going?”

  “Caprini’s. It was there all the time in the damn computer.”

  “Shumaker’s?”

  “Yeah. The man was anal. He kept notes about everything. A fucking journal.” He glanced at her.

  “Watch the road.” She pushed her hand on the dash when he whipped around an old station wagon that hadn’t seen a good day since 1970.

  “Shumaker was deep in debt to Caprini when Harden made him an offer. Apparently, they knew who Carl worked for and decided to blackmail him into turning on his boss.”

  “The backdoor.”

  “Yeah. All Shumaker had to do was provide a hidden way to infiltrate Stone’s security program so that they could skim pennies off online transactions. They could’ve made a fortune...”

  “And if caught, Stone would catch most of the blame.”

  “You got it.”

  “What about the senator? How does he fit into all this?” That had always been a problem with identifying the killer’s motive.

  “Still a bit shady. Shumaker speculated over another person pulling Caprini’s strings, but there’s nothing to substantiate that. Harden’s named. Caprini’s named. So is the bodyguard.

  “And there was one entry about a possible delay in development because of an attempt at some budgetary stonewalling at the state level. Stone’s software is marketed for commercial and government use. Want to bet Robertson led that attempt?”

  Her seat belt tightened across her shoulder as Cooper pressed hard on the breaks to make a right turn.

  “Their plan would crash and burn if Stone’s software wasn’t released,” she said, hanging on for dear life. “Remind me to drive next time.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, I figured it was your hunch, so it should be your collar.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. I appreciate the thought, but I think you’ve forgotten something. I’m suspended.” When he looked at her, she saw determination solidify his features. “Coop, we are not jeopardizing this case. I don’t care about who gets the credit, as long as the bastard’s behind bars.”

  “Technically, you’re still suspended, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re my partner. You found the clues that broke the case. You’re going.”

  Since she was already in the car, she couldn’t argue the point now. As they pulled through the gate onto Capini’s circular drive, a patrol car rolled to a stop behind them.

  “I asked them to wait until we got here,” Cooper said after getting out of the car.

  With a nod, Mackenzie greeted Officer Baker, whom she recognized from the Robertson crime scene.

  “Hello, Detective,” Baker said.

  “I’m n—”

  Cooper cut her off. “Baker, anyone been in or out?”

  “Not since we arrived about ten minutes ago, but we did see a few lights go off, so someone’s home.”

  “Okay, would you and your partner cover the back? Mac and I’ll take the front.”

  “Gotcha.” The two men, with firearms in hand, headed around back.

  “I don’t have a badge, Coop. And Fuller still has my weapon.”

  “Here.” He handed her a spare pistol, which he pulled from an ankle holster. “Wipe off the prints if this goes to shit.”

  She scowled, but took the firearm, and checked the chamber. Cooper was already heading for the house. She couldn’t let him go in without backup. He was already risking his career. She couldn’t let him risk his life by going in alone.

  The pathway lights that normally illuminated the yard at night were out or had yet to come on for the evening. The sun still hung low in the sky, just above the horizon. Only one light shone through a front window on the second floor.

  When they approached the front door, a prickly feeling of unease slithered down her spine.

  The door was ajar.

  Without saying a word, she and Cooper worked in tandem, using hand signs to communicate.

  Had Caprini felt the heat and fled?

  As they stood on either side, Cooper nudged the door, and it swung open silently.

  They entered with caution. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. They backed each other up as they checked the rooms downstairs and made their way to the second floor. At the top, Cooper motioned for her to take the left while he headed right.

  Gun raised, she checked each room, finding nothing amiss.

  Then she heard Cooper. “Mac, you better come see this.”

  The iron scent of blood struck her first. Inside the lit room Caprini’s body slumped over a desk, blood and brain matter splattered across a back wall, a nine-millimeter handgun in his hand.

  Cooper stood beside him, felt for a pulse, shook his head, and scanned a piece of paper lying to one side. “Looks like a suicide note.”

  She lowered her gun and frowned. “Where’s the security guard?”

  “Got the night off?”

  She shook her head. “Something’s not right. I’m going to check the basement. Everything cleared up here?”

  “Yeah. Have Baker call this in. Get the ME on his way.”

  She’d made it halfway down the stairs when a gunshot had her racing back to the room.

  Cooper lay on the floor, a gash across his head telling her he’d suffered a serious blow, and a man she’d only seen in pictures until now stood over him, clutching a hand to a wound in his shoulder.

  “Anton.” Her aim remained steady as her mind blasted off on an adrenalin rush.

  His eyes met hers with recognition and menace.

  Cooper groaned, but she didn’t dare drop her gaze to check whether he was all right. At least by the sound, she knew he was still alive.

  “We finally meet.” Anton’s voice was cultured, exotic. Dangerously attractive.

  Even wounded he displayed a power more frightening than she’d ever witnessed before. He was like a trapped animal, which left her wondering how in the hell she was supposed to capture him.

  “I have a feeling we’ve met before.”

  He smiled. “Yes, you’ll forgive me for not staying around at the warehouse. It was most unfortunate that Rafael showed up when he did.” He took a deep breath, as if he were scenting the air. “However, as his mate, your death will now have a more pleasing impact.”

  Everything happened in slow motion.

  Footsteps rushing up the stairs.

  Anton lunging for her.

  She fired, the first bullet passing harmlessly through the flash of light as he changed in midleap.

  Her second shot found its target in his chest as the large, grey wolf slammed into her. Jarred by the fall, she gasped for air and blindly pulled the trigger again. The animal’s body flinched from the impact as another bullet pierced his heart.

  His jaws were precariously close to her neck. Her fingers clawed at the fur, trying to push him away. His body’s dead weight pinned her down.

  “Jesus!” she heard O
fficer Baker say before seeing his face appear above her. Holstering his firearm, he shoved the heavy beast off her and helped her up. Something wet trickled down her neck.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  In a daze, she touched the trail of blood from the puncture wound left by the wolf’s sharp incisor.

  Baker’s partner knelt beside Cooper, who appeared to be coming around.

  “Ah! Son of a bitch.”

  “His arm’s broke,” the officer said.

  “No shit, Sherlock.” Cooper’s expression was half-sneer, half-grimace. But when his gaze met hers, she knew he’d witnessed the change.

  “Call an ambulance,” she ordered, not caring whether she had the authority to do so or not. “Officer down. Don’t touch anything. Seal off the area. This is a crime scene. We don’t need a lot of people all over the place. And someone check the basement. It hasn’t been cleared. There’s still a bodyguard unaccounted for.” Given orders, the men snapped into action, but she stopped Baker at the door. “Contact Sergeant Fuller and wait for him at the gate. I’ll take care of Coop until paramedics arrive.”

  When they’d left, she faced Cooper who was staring at the wolf.

  “I should’ve checked the damn closet, but when I saw the body... The bastard caught me off guard.”

  “You still shot him.” She stepped around Anton’s clothes, debating over whether to toss them back into the closet. Then deciding his leap from the closet was explanation enough for the scattered articles, she left them where they lay and knelt beside Cooper.

  Pain slashed across his face as she helped him shift to a seated position. His gaze locked with hers. “Lotta good that did me.”

  “It helped,” she said. Remembering what Rafe had said about Lycans, she believed the wound had forced Anton to change and heal to attempt an escape. But bullets to the heart were fatal. She realized how lucky she’d been; her shot had hit its mark. Her hand crept to her throat.

  Mackenzie propped herself against the wall, hoping her heart would someday return to a normal beat. Now that the danger was over, her system shook as her mind played tricks on her. The wolf’s snarl became a mountain lion’s roar, the fangs different yet just as deadly and still aimed for her throat.

  God, she’d have nightmares again.

  “You okay?” Cooper’s voice penetrated her mind, brought her back to reality.

  “Yeah.” The wolf hadn’t succeeded any more than the mountain lion. She was still alive.

  “What the hell was that thing?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “A Lycan,” she said, staring at the dead wolf. Apparently, Lycans didn’t return to their human state at death like the werewolves of Hollywood legend.

  The surprise on Cooper’s face told Mackenzie he hadn’t expected her to have the answer to his question. “You knew about that thing and didn’t tell me?”

  She twisted to face him as they sat on the floor. “Damn it, Coop. What did you expect me to do? If I’d suggested that we weren’t after a human killer—that the gunman and the animal were one and the same—you would’ve hauled my ass to the nearest psychiatrist’s couch and demanded a psych-eval.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “You’re damn right I am.”

  “So what the hell is a Lycan? Some sort of werewolf or something?”

  “I don’t have time to explain it all now.”

  “Mac...” he said, drawing out her name in a half-plea, half-warning.

  “I will.” She rested her hand on his shoulders, and her eyes met his with a promise. “For now, as far as anyone is concerned, we found Caprini dead, possible suicide. And when his guard dog attacked us from the closet, we had to shoot the animal. Caprini takes the fall because no one will believe it any other way. Understand?”

  He nodded.

  After a few minutes rest, she took his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Let’s get you up and out front, unless you want to be carried out of here because of one measly broken bone.”

  “Hey, don’t forget the concussion. Ah!” He released her and cradled his arm.

  “You big baby.” Her smile deflected the punch of accusation as she knelt to holster Cooper’s spare pistol at his ankle.

  “Some partner you are. Maybe I should let them carry me out...be pampered by some cute paramedic.”

  They walked down the stairs. “With any luck, the EMTs have Y chromosomes and are named Bob, Frank, and Joe.”

  “You’re all heart, Lyons.”

  She was still chuckling when they stepped outside and came face-to-face with their sergeant.

  The front of Caprini’s house was well lit now, with news cameras shining spotlights from the other side of the crime scene tape. Unfortunately, they backlit Fuller’s face, but Mackenzie could guess his expression, which had her snapping to attention beside Cooper.

  “Sir, I—”

  “—can explain,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m sure you can. But since you aren’t supposed to be here, I’d like an explanation from Detective Cooper.”

  She winced and hated showing even that much of a reaction to his words.

  As Cooper pleaded his case to their sergeant, Mackenzie watched an increasing number of journalists shuffle for position along the crime scene tape. They parted like the Red Sea when the ambulance arrived and backed into the drive.

  “Lyons’ instincts proved accurate, sir,” Cooper said. “Her hunch led to the evidence discovered today at Shumaker’s residence. It vindicates Stone and points the finger of guilt squarely on Caprini.”

  One EMT opened the backdoors while another spoke with Officer Baker, who pointed in their direction.

  “She’s my partner,” Cooper said. “She saved both our lives tonight, sir. Suspended or not, I didn’t want anyone else backing me up here. If that costs me my badge, then...”

  “Enough.” Fuller’s voice was firm, commanding. Silence stretched for what seemed like eternity as they stared at each other. Finally, he said, “I hope you don’t intend to bring civilians on every bust you make as an officer of the Chicago police force, Detective.”

  “No, sir.”

  “As you are in need of medical attention, I intend to have another detective handle the remainder of this case.” Cooper opened his mouth as if he wanted to object, but Fuller demanded, “Do you have a problem with that?”

  Cooper shut up, his lips pressing into a thin, hard line.

  “I thought not.”

  The EMT approached, his gaze moving from Cooper, who still held his arm and sported a gash on the side of his head, to Mackenzie and the blood staining her neck and shirtfront.

  “Help him. His arm’s broken,” she said before the EMT could comment on her medical needs.

  He followed her lead as his focus shifted to Cooper. “Need the stretcher?”

  “I’ll walk. Thanks,” Cooper said with a quick glance toward the news cameras, then back at Fuller.

  “Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning, Detective.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Cooper continued to stand there, Fuller pointed toward the ambulance and ordered roughly, “Get moving. That’s an order... unless you don’t think your partner can handle things here?”

  “Yes, sir!” Cooper’s gaze met her surprised one, and with a wink, he sauntered toward the ambulance.

  Mackenzie faced the sergeant and noticed his hand extended toward her. A badge—her badge—lay on his palm.

  “I think you’ll need this. I...you know how long it takes to process paperwork. Things can often get lost in the piles on my desk.”

  She knew better but didn’t object. Speechless, she took the badge, studied it, ensuring herself that it was indeed real.

  “Sir...”

  “Ballistics came in,” he said, getting back down to business before she could embarrass them both with some sentimental blathering. “The bullet fragments from the warehouse shooting. They matched the .45 caliber slug pulled from Robertson’s body.
Pretty hard for Stone to be the shooter if he was busy pushing you out of the way.”

  She released a shaky breath, tucked her badge into her waistband.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me, Detective. I’m tossing you to the sharks,” he said with a subtle motion toward the media. “See that you keep your nose above water, and I expect a full, detailed report on my desk by oh-eight-hundred.” His gaze fell to the drying stains, bright crimson on her white shirt. Rafe’s shirt. “I suggest you get a jumper from the CSI unit before meeting with the media.”

  “Yes, sir.” Watching Fuller leave, Mackenzie decided to spend the next half hour or so coordinating the response team and gathering her wits before leaping into those shark-infested waters.

  Rafael paused the news footage playing on his computer monitor, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes. Stock reports, departmental memos, and other financials lay in organized stacks on his desk, awaiting his attention.

  His encounter with Evalyn Drake had put him behind schedule, but that wasn’t the problem. Managing a hectic timeline was the norm for a man like him, a man whose work fueled him, kept him focused. Usually.

  The constant wheeling and dealing challenged him, was more alluring than the potential profits. The money, however, was a necessary evil for one responsible for numerous other lives. As alpha, he’d accepted that. Had sacrificed much of his personal needs—much of himself—to achieve success on the pack’s behalf. But now, concern over one person’s life hindered his ability to focus on the demands of running Stone Corp.

  His personal desire to be with Mackenzie was a distraction that had grown daily since first laying eyes on her. Now she was his mate, his responsibility, his life.

  Sergeant Fuller’s words haunted him. She damn near gave her life for yours. Her job had always been her life. And because of him, she’d lost her badge.

  She’d put up a brave front since then, but hadn’t been able to hide the quiver in her voice when he’d called. He’d sensed the prick in her pride that had demanded she turn down his offer to drop everything on her behalf. Selfless.