No Werewolves Allowed

by Cheyenne McCray

  Don’t make me break out the flying monkeys.

  I wanted to grin but managed not to. Beketov didn’t smile. He probably hadn’t gotten Olivia’s T-shirt. It was hard to imagine the big Were kicking back and watching a vid of The Wizard of Oz or sitting in the audience at the Broadway show, Wicked.

  Beketov shifted, widening his stance. His Werewolf scent of woods and fresh air mingled with the smells of spicy Kung Pao chicken. The almost-empty cartons of Chinese takeout were perched on my desk in the midst of a bunch of bright pink sticky notes from a case I’d been working on.

  “I do not have time for this.” His muscular biceps, revealed by a sleeveless beige leather shirt, flexed as he folded his arms across his chest. I had to admit the Were was mouth-wateringly delicious despite his scowl and his harsh, angular features.

  Most Werewolves had emigrated from the Czech Republic hundreds of years ago. He was Slavic in appearance, his eyes deep-set, his cheekbones high, his features striking. His long hair, which fell to the middle of his back, was the most beautiful shade of bronze I’d ever seen.

  I imagined him in his pure wolf form and not what he would look like at the full moon. No doubt as a wolf he would be large and sleek, with glossy fur that shone like rich bronze in the sunlight.

  He slid his tawny gaze over Olivia’s petite but voluptuous frame. He had that arrogant alpha Were expression down pat as he assessed her.

  “Give it up, Furry.” Olivia gestured to the door again, this time in a manner meant to tell him to get the Underworlds out of our office.

  Yeah, we liked business, but neither one of us tolerated arrogant bastards. However, this was a client that Rodán—my Proctor, friend, and former lover—had referred to us, so we couldn’t completely send the Were away.

  Beketov turned to me, blatantly dismissing Olivia. She narrowed her eyes and slid her fingers along her waistband so her hand was closer to her Sig Sauer P226 that was secured in her shoulder holster.

  If I didn’t control myself I was going to roll my eyes or sigh. This was getting ridiculous.

  “We have business to discuss. Immediately.” Beketov’s Czech-accented English added to his knife-edged tone. His accent was strong, so it was possible he was over a hundred years old. That was nothing compared to Dark Elves like my father, who had lived for a couple of millennia.

  Beketov stepped closer so that he towered over where I sat behind my desk. His intimidation tactic was not fair, but it didn’t work anyway.

  Elemental powers stirred inside me but I bade them to rest. No, this was not the time or place to use my powers. Yet. If he pushed me…no telling what I might do with them. Send him flying across the room with my air element, for starters. Maybe use my fire element to set his butt on fire…

  I almost smiled at that image.

  To show I wasn’t impressed by his show of dominance, I kept my expression calm and my fingers relaxed on the opening of my Dolce & Gabbana gold evening clutch. It was just big enough to hold my XPhone, my Kahr K40 and my smallest Elvin-made—but very wicked—serrated dagger. I’m Drow, and I could have had either weapon in my hand instantly. I’m lightning fast when I need to be and I could have carved out his heart.

  Thanks to an earlier conversation with Rodán, I knew Beketov was here for a missing persons case, but I didn’t mention I already had that information. We didn’t usually handle missing persons, but some of our competition did. We had bigger paranorms to fry.

  “I’ll determine how important your business is,” I said in a cool and calm tone. “During your appointment later tonight.”

  He said in a guttural tone, “We are going to discuss this matter now.”

  Again, I tried not to grip my clutch tight, this time out of sheer irritation. Dominant males who like to intimidate people make hair bristle on the back of my neck and cause my elemental powers to stir. Not to mention said males give me the desire to draw one of my dragon-claw daggers and skewer them.

  “No. We’re not.” I met his gaze head-on. I had to calm myself to keep the dangerous white light from flashing in my sapphire eyes.

  A predatory growl rose up in the Werewolf’s throat and his tawny-gold eyes brightened. It would have been a little frightening if he was dealing with anyone other than Olivia and me.

  Nothing scared Olivia—not that she had ever shown—even though she was one hundred percent human.

  Of course, as a Night Tracker, I had dealt with Beketov’s kind for over two years. That included taking care of more than my fair share of Werewolves during the full moon. I had no reason to be concerned about his show of dominance, other than retaining a good dose of irritation.

  Although…Beketov was an alpha. A big one. I’d never faced an alpha. Come to think of it, it was getting close to the full moon…just a few days.

  A small shiver ran through me that I hoped didn’t show. Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated at the thought of this massive man during the full moon. The only Weres that had needed to be taken care of in New York City had been rogues. Rogues were usually wannabe alphas with no pack to lead.

  Deep breath. Be professional, Nyx. “Our PI firm is closed for the day, Mr. Beketov.” How many times did we have to tell the big Troll? I was running out of time before Nadia would be there. I couldn’t disappoint her again.

  Considering I was wearing a short, black, low-cut and backless evening dress, you’d think that would have given the Were a clue. If I made it to the matinee at the Metropolitan Opera House, the Thursday performance of L’Elisir d’Amore was early enough that I could be in and out without going blue.

  One of the things about being half-Drow is that going anywhere humans do after sundown isn’t an option. I miss out on evening activities—although I can get away with a costume ball and Halloween.

  “Unacceptable.” Beketov’s tone caused me to bristle more, my skin prickling. His gaze rolled over what he could see of me from where I sat.

  Beketov braced his hands on my desk, bringing his Werewolf scent of woodlands closer, richer, as he added, “This matter is far more important than whatever you have planned.”

  An angry, hot flush rose from my chest. I set my clutch on the desk, managing not to slam it on the surface, but kept it close enough that I still had access to it. My elemental powers stirred harsh enough to scald my skin and I had a powerful urge to take the Were down a notch. Or several.

  I slowly stood, never letting my gaze waver from his as I rose to my full five-eight height. My long straight black hair swung around my shoulders as I leaned forward, getting in his face.

  “Stop trying to intimidate us,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “It’s not going to work.”

  He glared. “Don’t fuck with me.”

  “As if you’d get so lucky.” Olivia moved beside me and she leaned her hip against my desk, bumping into a haphazard pile of files on my desk. Despite my anger, I winced as the pile rocked, and hoped the files didn’t slip off my desk. Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. “Nyx doesn’t do furry critters.”

  I wanted to laugh, but held it back.

  The Were straightened and his massive chest rose and fell as he inhaled, then exhaled. It must have killed him to not try to put Olivia in her place.

  Beketov studied me for a long time. We had a lovely staring contest.

  Finally, I saw realization flicker in his eyes. Now he understood that his behavior wasn’t going to get him anywhere with Olivia and me. We weren’t the type to back down, no matter how much of an arrogant jerk we were facing.

  The Werewolf sighed, harsh and audible, as if letting out the anger and frustration he’d been exhibiting. He unclenched his fists and his jaw tightened, then relaxed, like he was forcing a decent look on his face.

  His expression shifted so quickly it startled me into frowning. He now appeared like he was going to choke on a huge chunk of stringy raw meat because his following words were so hard to get out.

  “My people’s lives are at stake.” He spok
e in a tone that was dark, but with an almost humble quality that didn’t fit him. “I need your assistance.”

  “My, my.” Olivia’s sarcastic tone brought Beketov’s attention to her. “The Big Scary Wolfman admitting he needs help.” She picked up her cellphone and pretended to dial. “I’ll alert the media. I think I’ll start with CNN.”

  His gaze darkened and it must have killed him to stop yet again from trying to put Olivia in her place.

  “Members of my pack are disappearing.” Pain flashed through the big alpha’s eyes. “Then turning up mutilated…and dead.”

  My scalp prickled and the feeling traveled down my spine in a rush. I pushed aside my clutch and slowly sat again, my palms flat on the glossy Dryad-wood desk as I stared at Beketov. “You have my attention.”

  Veins stood out along Beketov’s neck and one pulsed on his forehead. “After they disappear, my packmates are eventually found, but always dead, their skin nearly in shreds.”

  My stomach churned at the image and the horror of what he was telling us. In a habit I’d developed years ago, I ran my finger along the band around my neck. The collar engraved with Drow runes announced my position as royalty among the Dark Elves—it was my one concession to my father, the Drow King.

  I hadn’t been informed yet on Beketov’s case—just that it was missing persons. To hear Beketov now explaining the Weres were mutilated and murdered…The thought threatened to make my whole body shudder.

  “Every time the mutilation occurred while the Were was alive.” Was his body shaking? With anger? Fear for his people? Both? “This has been confirmed by our pack medical staff,” he added.

  “Damn.” Olivia shifted her stance against my desk and one file folder landed with a plop and a whoosh, then skidded a couple of feet on the ceramic tiled floor. Right then I could have cared less about that file folder, or even the rest of the stack. Olivia also ignored the folder with its contents now scattered on the floor.

  Beketov clenched his fists so hard I saw small wells of blood appear from where his nails dug into his palms. “From my pack, a total of six Weres have disappeared. All but two have been recovered and those we have found have been dead.”

  Chills scrabbled up and down my spine. “Here? In Manhattan?” The thought that this could be happening without Trackers or Rodán—especially Rodán—being aware was virtually unfathomable.

  Beketov shook his head and a lock of his thick bronze hair fell across his forehead. “From the places we feed.”

  “Where do you feed?” Olivia’s tone was sharp, her expression focused, all antagonism and sarcasm gone.

  Beketov’s intense gaze flicked from me to Olivia. When he spoke, he did so with the recognition that my partner was all business now, as was I. “The Catskills. We have changed encampments several times but it is not enough. There are only so many places we can go. We must stay close to the locations where our pack members have disappeared so that we can continue to search for the two who are still missing.”

  His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. “We must also feed without endangering the wild animal population in any one area with a prolonged stay. Yet I cannot allow my people to leave.”

  Olivia raised her eyebrows.

  “Weres rotate their feeding grounds to make sure they don’t eliminate their food source in any one area,” I said to Olivia. “The packs also have great respect for the balance of nature.”

  Beketov gave me an approving look before I swear his eyes clouded, almost misty as he added, softly, “The two that remain missing are mere pups.”

  My lips parted and I felt pain wash over me, as if his own was covering me in a wave. “Children?”

  He looked away. “One of the pups is my son. Simon.”

  More chills prickled my skin and I spread my fingers on the cool surface of my desktop. My air elemental power stirred my hair around my shoulders and I had to rein the power in.

  The thought of children being kidnapped and possibly murdered made me bite the inside of my cheek to control my anger. Dmitri Beketov’s son’s disappearance made it seem all the more real.

  Beketov turned his face back to Olivia and me, looking as hardened as one of the statues in Central Park. I could almost picture the statues’ Gargoyles funneling through him, exploding into the night and ripping to shreds whoever, whatever, was doing this to the Were’s people.

  Then in his manner and bearing, Beketov returned to being one hundred percent alpha. An alpha who was beyond furious because his people were vanishing and turning up dead…but also a man who was damaged from the fact that his own son was one of the missing.

  And an alpha who hated to admit he hadn’t been able to help his people and was forced to ask for assistance. Likely it was even harder to have to ask two females who weren’t of his kind. Weres are tight-knit and aren’t crazy about letting outsiders into their ranks, much less having to ask their help.

  “Have a seat.” I gestured to one of the black leather chairs in front of my desk. “We need details.”

  Olivia moved her hip away from my desk without upsetting any more file folders. “Instead of being an ass, you could have started with that information.”

  Uh, yeah. It sure would have made things simpler.

  “That is of no matter.” Beketov scowled. “What is important is finding out what is happening to my people and getting our children back.”

  Olivia stepped over the folder and its contents still on the tile floor, and she rounded her desk before she sat in her black leather office chair. The wheels rumbled on the ceramic tile and the chair squeaked with the shift in weight. She arranged herself so that her forearms were on the desktop, in between her own piles of stuffed file folders and the neon-green sticky notes she used. “Tell us everything. From the beginning.”

  Beketov didn’t sit. Instead he began to pace and growl like the animal he was when not in human form.

  Fae bells tinkled at the door and I cut my attention to see Nadia, a Siren, and one of my best friends. A wash of early October air followed in her wake.

  As usual, Nadia was absolutely gorgeous, but even more so in her thigh-length, glittering dinner dress that was a shade of sea foam. Strands of aquamarines sparkled in her upswept dark red hair.

  My heart sank. I was supposed to be leaving now for L’Elisir d’Amore with Nadia, but how could I go with a case this urgent? With children’s lives at stake as well as adults. The children…that seemed to make what was happening even more powerfully wrong.

  Nadia pushed a loose curl of her luxurious, thick hair away from her cheek. She looked from me to the Were to Olivia and back to me. Her musical voice sounded resigned when she spoke. “Not again, Nyx.”

  I grimaced. “Sorry.”

  Beketov stared at Nadia like she was an annoyance rather than the gorgeous woman most men couldn’t take their eyes from. Of course, if they knew she could kill them with a song, they might not be so anxious to get her attention.

  Nadia focused on me. When the sun disappeared in the west, Nadia worked as a Night Tracker, like me. “This has nothing to do with Demons?” she said.

  Despite my show of confidence, my stomach clenched. “The Demons are definitely gone. No worries.”

  She looked a little green like she did when she sang her Siren’s song. Which unfortunately hadn’t worked on the Demons.

  Time to get off that incredible nightmare of a subject.

  “At least you have Karen and Jeanie to sit with,” I said.

  Nadia sighed. “But you know how Soothsayers are. If one of them has to go to the restroom, she’ll freeze everyone in the entire Met until she’s back in her seat. Goddess forbid missing the slightest bit of the opera.”

  A grin tried to twitch my lips but I didn’t let it show as I took my XPhone out of my clutch. “Bring me back a program.” I liked to look at the hot guys in the list of cast members. Even if a lot of them were gay like my friends James and Derek, they were nice eye candy.

  She cocked h
er head. “Don’t forget that you promised to go to La Cenerentola a week from tomorrow. Friday.”

  I glanced at Beketov, whose jaw was tight, his expression darker, before returning my gaze to Nadia. “I hope we’ll have this case solved before then.”

  A frown looked out of place on Nadia, who was almost always smiling. She directed her gaze at both me and Olivia. “Whatever this is, watch out for yourselves, okay?”

  “As if we need to.” Olivia reached for her stash of rubber bands and erasers. “Get your ass out of here and to your opera before I nail you,” she said as she fashioned a slingshot with her fingers and the rubber band, and loaded it with an eraser.

  Nadia grinned, which was radiant despite the concern for us in her eyes. “You’ll never be fast enough.”

  The eraser thumped the door’s window. Olivia nailed the space right where Nadia had been standing, but Nadia had already disappeared out the door. Bells tingled as the door shut with a firm thunk.

  “One of these days I’m going to get her,” Olivia said before turning serious again, dropping the now empty rubber band on the small pile of always-ready ammunition at the corner of her desk.

  “No more interruptions,” Beketov growled as he faced us. “Lock the door.”

  Olivia studied Beketov, who looked beyond irritated at the delay, and she picked up her cellphone and stylus. “Get over it and tell us everything you can about these disappearances and deaths.”

  I was prepared with my own phone and stylus. Olivia and I had discovered over the last couple of years that when we took separate notes, we almost always developed different angles with our cases.

  Beketov dragged his hand down his face, which was roughened with at least three days’ stubble. “My son and his closest friend were the first from my pack to vanish, two weeks ago. We have not stopped looking for them.”

  My stomach was queasy, the Chinese takeout that I’d eaten before Beketov walked through our office door not settling well. As I’d proven when ridding the city of Demons, I have a weak spot for children. That weakness had almost killed me, and I’d be dead if it hadn’t been for T…