Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh
Faleena Hopkins
Contents
Copyright
Description
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Also By Faleena Hopkins
Also by Faleena Hopkins
About the Author
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2016 Faleena Hopkins
Cover Image licensed from Shutterstock.com
Published by Hop Hop Publications
Description
A stand-alone romance/crime drama.
She was a cop. He, a vigilante with a secret. It could never work. Police detective Kara Monaghan and wolf Curragh Dominion are after the same evil Russian mob boss, but by very different means. When they randomly meet in a bar and chemistry flies, they have no idea until it’s too late that they’re on different sides of the law. Punches are thrown, laws broken. So why can’t she stop thinking about him, and why is he so different from any man she’s ever touched? To make matters worse, since they both want to take down Viktor Kruglov, they keep running into each other, and always at the wrong time. But is there ever a right time, when searching for a phantom amid a sea of crime?
You don’t have to have read the New York werewolves first. They are barely connected. Add to Goodreads here.
For all the good cops I’ve known.
Dad, top of the list.
Chapter One
Present Day—Chicago
The room was spinning, and Kara wasn’t sure if it was from this man running strong hands down her sides, or the whiskey. She’d only had two. She could sure as hell handle way more than that. It had to be the man.
Hooded green eyes held her very still as he murmured, “Stop looking at the door,” while slipping both hands under her silk blouse.
“Oh God,” she whispered into his chest, leaning into him.
He’d dwarfed the room when he’d strode into the bar earlier, all by himself. He stood a full head above even the tallest person there. She’d glanced over from her seat at the bar where a boring guy was talking her ear off, and froze at the sight of this amazing new arrival—all muscle, olive skin, medium length brown hair he controlled with only his fingers, and pale green eyes lashed so darkly it looked like he had eyeliner on. He was fascinating.
They’d locked eyes immediately. As she watched his approach, the guy’s voice was drowned out next to her. Then the giant of a man told the guy to leave. Due to his size and intensity, his order was obeyed without question or pause.
They’d begun to talk. It wasn’t easy, or comfortable, because it felt like they were just biding their time until they could find a bed somewhere. Or the single-stall bathroom of that very same bar a mere thirteen minutes later, which was where they found themselves now.
“People keep banging at the door. There’s got to be a line forming.”
“Let them wait,” he growled, palming her swelling breasts before pulling them from her bra. “These are gorgeous.”
She couldn’t help but smile, because in her mind, nothing was as gorgeous as he was. Not that she’d tell him that. “Thank you.”
For their first kiss he leaned way down to roughly take her mouth in his. Her body reacted instantly as he molded her lips with his own, and sought out her tongue. Her body went lax. He pulled her up by her thighs and backed her against the wall, pinning her. She’d come to this place needing to unwind. Have a drink. Maybe get a phone number. But now that this was happening, she knew it was what she really needed. A release. A fun time. A man who knew how to give her one. She needed a body like his pressed against hers, so that at least for these precious moments she could feel tiny. Feminine.
At her job, she was anything but. All the men gave her such a hard time there. She had to wear a coat of armor. They mocked her in an attempt to take down her power. And she never surrendered to them. She never let them win.
But here and now, the only power she had was in how much he wanted her. She wanted only to surrender. It was pure heaven.
Her fingers slipped into his hair. He groaned and released the kiss to stare at her. “You taste like…” He stopped himself, and the pale green seemed to lighten more as he soaked her in.
“I feel a little dizzy…” she whispered and closed her eyes. When she felt him claim her mouth again, searching her, she went weak. Their kiss deepened and grew hungrier. Her body came alive in a way it never had. All the stress of her day, and the months and even years leading up to it, vanished. Then she said something she couldn’t believe she was saying. “Fuck me.”
She’d never been that bold with anyone. Certainly not her ex-husband.
“My pleasure.” Within seconds her skirt was up and her panties were on the ground. She stole glances at him before having to squeeze her eyes tightly shut in overwhelming need and disbelief. She heard him unzip. Held her breath as she waited. And then it happened. He filled her completely, and so quickly that he robbed her of her breath. His throbbing need for her—it was torture how good it felt. His fingers pressed deeply into her flesh as he held her up and moved her body to suit his needs. His mouth was on hers. His tongue playing with her tongue. They were chest against breasts. Lips molding lips. Hips grinding with every hard thrust. Unexpected chemistry and pure lust propelled them to a place where the loud music outside muted, where there were no shouts begging them to get the fuck out of the bathroom. Where there was nothing but them. He was everything.
Her body trembled and the stranger held her fast, steadying her and groaning into her mouth as the ache grew more demanding with each plunging beat. Her climax came on in strong, rapid hot waves. She whimpered. He buried his face in her neck and let himself be taken to that same place. Neither of them w
anted to let go.
He murmured into her ear, “What’s your name?”
“Kara,” she gasped in the aftermath. “Yours?”
“Curragh.”
She blinked and frowned. “What kind of a name is that?”
An explosive banging came from outside. “POLICE. OPEN THE DOOR.”
Both their heads swiveled over. Kara felt her heart stop. In desperation she whispered, “Don’t open that door! They can’t find me in here. Oh God, what am I gonna do?” At his raised eyebrows, she hissed, “I’m a cop!”
Curragh’s frown and disgust was instantaneous. “You’re a WHAT???!!!”
Chapter Two
Seven Months Ago—New York
“So, that’s it,” Mike sighed, standing outside the elevator next to Kara. They were tense and tired.
She gave an irritated exhale. “Yup.”
He shoved plump hands in his pockets and stared at the descending numbers lighting up. “You know, when you get married, you never think that one day you’ll be divorced.”
“Well, if you’d have told me that you didn’t want kids in the first place,” she grumbled. “And that you liked fucking waitresses when you’re off duty—”
“—Just stop, Kara.” He shot her that look, the one that she loathed.
The elevator doors opened, but she stepped back. “It says this one’s for assholes, so it’s all yours.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why do you have to be like that? Why can’t you just be civil?”
“Sorry. I’m not a saint like you.” The sarcasm dripped from every syllable. He shook his head and walked onto the empty car. As he turned and pushed the button for the law firm’s lobby, Mike looked at his now ex-wife. “Thanks for the apartment.”
“Fuck you.”
He shook his head again. “Okay.”
“And you better not show up tonight while I’m getting the last of my things. I might accidentally take off the safety.”
He scoffed as the doors closed. It would be the last time she’d ever see his lying face.
She was supposed to go to her girlfriend’s place from there, where she’d be staying since she’d given up the home in exchange for money, in the settlement. She wanted him to buy her out because she didn’t want to live in a place he’d touched. And that applied to all of Manhattan.
She told the cabbie another address. Her job. Where Mike worked, too. Detective Kara Monaghan strode directly to the Deputy Chief’s office. Mackey was a good man who’d championed her high rise through the ranks there. Kara was just over thirty-one years old, but she had closed more cases in their file drawers than most of the men who were about to retire. She had an instinct most didn’t have. She liked to think it was because she was a woman, but it was more likely because she was raised in a family where if you didn’t watch your back, you’d get stabbed. Metaphorically, of course. You had to be very perceptive of people’s moods and motivations if you wanted to get out alive. She barely did.
“Monaghan,” said the Deputy Chief, looking up from his computer as he leaned back in his big corporate-style leather chair. As usual his desk was spotless. So unlike Kara’s ever would be. She stood by the chair meant for visitors and crossed her arms.
“I need to leave New York.”
Bushy brown and white eyebrows rose up as the fifty-eight year old man looked at her. He sucked on his teeth. “You’re giving up being a detective then? Just because of a mistake in judgment?”
“You could call him worse things than that,” Kara smiled. “I can’t walk around the same precinct or even the same city as that man. The courts gave me my out. Sir, I need you to give me one, too.”
“Sit.” Reluctantly, she did as she was told. “Monaghan, you’re going to let him win?”
She blinked a few times and licked her lips. The idea made her ill, but the truth was greater than her ego. “I’ll be the winner. I won’t have to look at his cheating face or see the pity in those cops’ eyes who already don’t take me seriously here.”
“They take you seriously now. You earned their respect.” They stared at each other in silent disagreement. He didn’t know everything she had to deal with. What people told him and how they acted when he wasn’t around were two very different things. “What are you gonna do, go work in some—”
“—I’m still going to be a detective, sir. That bug bit me hard, a long time ago. You know that.”
His blue Irish eyes held the unique understanding of someone who knew that feeling firsthand. “It’s in your blood.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mackey nodded and sighed, clasping his hands and laying them on his stomach, the dark suit jacket bunching a little under the pressure. “Leaving New York…”
“Yes.”
“If you go to another city, you’ll have to start from the ground up.”
Kara felt her stomach twist. “What? The Robins-Levy case alone should be enough to…” She quieted and lowered her eyes, shaking her head in frustration.
After a long pause, the Deputy Chief exhaled. “I know someone in Chicago. An old friend from the Marines. I could ask a favor.”
She brightened instantly. “Oh, sir! Are you serious? If you could do that for me!”
He raised a hand to stop her excitement. “Ah ah ah. Don’t get happy. If I pull these strings for you, you’re going to face a lot of animosity. People won’t like that you didn’t have to pay your dues on their pavement.”
She frowned, the old disgust returning. “You mean men won’t like it.”
“Women, too. Maybe them even more so, because they’ll have gotten where they are out of hard work—”
Her voice rose. “—I work harder than any woman in this place!” Off his look, she slumped back in the chair, and mumbled. “Sorry, sir.”
“I know what you’ve done. And so do most of the cops here. But there you’ll be a stranger in a native town. Chicago is different than New York. There’s loyalty there that’s stronger even than there is here. If you were to start at the bottom, it’d be easier for you.”
“If I have to start at the bottom, I will. But you know me.” She threw up her hands. “Who am I kidding? I can’t do that.”
His thumbs twirled slowly around each other as he thought about her predicament. “It would be a waste of talent. And with your impatience and temper, you wouldn’t survive.”
A small smile peeked out. “You’re probably right.”
He picked up his phone, the lights on the bottom of it flashing. “I’ve got a call to make. Get outta here.”
She bowed her head in respect and rose up from the chair, heading for the door with her hopes up. His stern voice turned her back around.
“I’ll let you know how it goes, Monaghan, but I can’t say I’m happy about this decision.”
She gave him a little smile. “I’ll miss you, too, sir.”
He waved her away and dialed.
Chapter Three
In Chicago—Six Months Later
“Shake it a little harder Monaghan!” Deputy Lennox called out as Kara walked by.
“Watch it Lennox,” shot back the only female detective in the Mafia Investigations unit, and proud to be that. “I outrank you.”
“Yeah, shake it like you did for the Chief back in New York, huh?” Deputy Lanky snickered under his breath. Kara’s whole body tightened, but she said nothing. The two dipshits glanced over to discover Captain Mazzagatti approaching. They sneakily chose that moment to scuttle off. But she knew it wasn’t over. It would never be, not with guys like them.
She’d been getting shit ever since she’d come to Chicago, like she’d been warned.
With an audible huff, Kara headed to her desk, tugging on her too-tight bun to find a stray strand of deep brown hair had escaped the noose. As she sat, the hair came down for a hasty rearranging. One more time she considered cutting it off. There were women in the police force, but they were far outnumbered and had to work harder for everything they got. Ka
ra wasn’t boyish in any way. It wasn’t just her long hair. It was her large, round eyes, her heart-shaped face and her womanly form. With breasts like hers, she brought enough attention to her. But her body wasn’t her fault. It was her grandmother’s on her father’s side. Emma Monaghan had been so voluptuous she’d had five marriage proposals by the time she was eighteen. Too bad she had to go and marry a violent alcoholic. Kara was built exactly like her. And she had the same quick temper, too.
“Detective.” Captain Mazzagatti nodded to her. He stopped and stared down at her. “You’re here late.”
“Captain,” she returned with a grim look. What’s he want? “There’s still work to do.”
“You have the unusual ability of looking like you’re rolling your eyes when you’re not.”
Kara blinked and glanced to her paperwork. “Sorry, sir. I guess I haven’t had enough coffee.” She straightened her back a little.
“How long have you been up?”
She shifted in her seat. “Two days, sir.”
“And?”
“I followed a lot of dead ends until I found a warehouse cleaned out in such a way it appears Kruglov’s people were trying to hide what was happening there. It was too clean, and the scent of ammonia was fresh, sir. I’ve been asking around to the neighbors about what they saw, but no one wants to talk.”
“Do you think they know and aren’t talking, or don’t know anything at all.”
“They know. Their silence is laden with fear, sir. They all seem afraid for their lives. Innocent people. Business owners with their own warehouses for honest work. But I’ll keep trying.”
“Someone tipped Kruglov’s men off that they were exposed.”
She nodded, thinking on it. “Or they move often to avoid being exposed in the first place.”
The captain pictured that and muttered, “That would take a lot of time and effort.”
Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) Page 1
