by Paige Tyler
She leaned in close and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Maybe we can slip out now while no one is looking. I can drop my car keys off with Brandy and we can disappear into the night. I’d just about kill for a slice of pizza.”
Any other time, Max would have been stoked to hear that. In his opinion, there wasn’t anything sexier than a woman who loved pizza. But right then, all he could think about was how his body was reacting to Lana’s nearness. Not only was his pulse racing, but his claws and fangs were dangerously close to coming out. He only hoped his eyes weren’t turning gold.
On the upside, at least he now knew for sure she was a werewolf. He could smell it in her pheromones. That was probably why they hit it off so well. Well, there was another reason, but he wasn’t about to go there—even if a little wolf voice in the back of his head whispered maybe he should.
Lana was telling him about an awesome pizza place that wasn’t too far away, wondering if he’d be interested in checking it out, but instead of answering her, he went in a completely different direction.
“It’s so cool finding another of our kind here,” he said. “I totally didn’t expect it.”
She didn’t seem to mind that he’d changed the subject, but she looked a bit confused. “Another of our kind? Are you a pescatarian, too?”
Max chuckled. That body and those looks combined with a wicked sense of humor? It was like she was made for him. A werewolf who didn’t eat meat? Now that was epically funny.
Unless it was true, in which case it was a little strange.
Before he could say anything, Lana leaned over to look at something behind him, her lips curving into a smile. Max turned to see who she was looking at and was a little surprised to find Deputy Chief Hal Mason. The deputy chief was in charge of the police department’s specialized Tactical Division, which included the mounted police, canine unit, helicopter support, EOD, and SWAT. As a high-ranking officer in the department, Mason had to attend every award ceremony, but this time he’d been recognized for his commitment to developing his entire division, especially SWAT.
“Hey, Dad.” Lana stepped around Max to give Mason a hug. “I was looking for you and Mom earlier, but you were deep in conversation with some people and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Max picked his jaw up from the floor and shoved it back into place. Lana was Mason’s daughter? How the hell was that even possible? They didn’t look anything alike. Maybe she was adopted.
Mason pulled away to regard her fondly. “You didn’t have to come to this thing. I know how much this kind of stuff bores you.”
Lana made a face. “Of course I did. It’s not every day my dad gets a big, prestigious award.” She grinned. “You looked quite dashing up there, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Mason smiled…for all of two seconds. Then his face took on its signature serious expression that seemed to be glued there permanently. “Since you’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Giving Max the stink eye, Mason gently took his daughter’s arm, clearly intending to lead her away. But apparently Lana wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to be led around by anyone. She firmly disengaged her arm from her father’s grip, arching a brow that would have done the commander of the SWAT team proud.
“Dad, I’m talking to Max,” she said. “Maybe I could meet your friend later?”
Mason scowled at his daughter like she was one of his junior officers. “I know you were talking to him. That’s why I came over. Officer Lowry has to go back to work immediately, if not sooner. He’s on the SWAT team and he’s always quite busy.”
Lana gave Max a shrug and a smile. “Later perhaps?”
“Officer Lowry will be busy later, too,” Mason said. “In fact, he’s going to be busy every day for the next month or so.”
Damn, Max thought as the deputy chief led Lana away. Mason didn’t want him anywhere near his daughter—that much was obvious. Cockblocked by the deputy chief of the Dallas PD. Could it get any worse? As Max watched Mason introduce his beautiful daughter to some good-looking lawyer type in an expensive suit with metrosexual hair and Italian leather shoes that probably cost as much as the payments on Max’s new Camaro, he decided it could indeed get worse. Max felt the hackles on the back of his neck rise as the pretty boy reached out and put a possessive hand on Lana’s arm.
“Watch where you’re putting your hands, jackass, or you’ll draw back a nub,” Max growled under his breath.
Shit.
Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was harder to get a handle on his inner wolf this time, mostly because he was so pissed at Mason for interrupting his conversion with Lana. The fact that her scent lingered in the air didn’t help. It made it difficult to think about anything but her curves, smile, and creamy skin. Not the kind of thoughts he wanted to have in his head when he was attempting to find his calm place.
He had no idea how long it took him to tame his wolf half, but by the time he opened his eyes, Lana was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, neither was pretty boy. Why the hell would someone like Lana run off with a guy like that? Besides the nice hair, fancy suit, and expensive shoes, not to mention the money.
Max considered looking for her, but then realized he probably didn’t want to find her, not if it turned out she was hanging on pretty boy’s arm. Cursing, he headed across the room to rejoin his teammates.
Brooks, Diego, Zane, and Gage were standing around the same small cocktail table, a sheet of paper in front of them with a shopping list for what look like a serious cookout on it. Max glanced at his watch. By the time they got out of here, bought all the food on that list, and grilled the stuff, it’d be eight o’clock. Not that it mattered. Steak tasted good no matter what time of night it was, especially when followed by a game of volleyball.
Gage looked up from the list, his dark eyes curious. “Brooks said you were off looking for some scent that caught your attention. Any luck?”
Max glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot—no one with normal human ears at least. “Yeah. It was a female werewolf.”
The other guys stopped debating whether to get hot dogs or not and stared at him.
“Seriously?” Brooks did a double take. “You sure she’s another werewolf? I didn’t smell her.”
Max shrugged, refusing to ponder why he seemed to be the only one who recognized Lana for what she was. “I’m sure. Or pretty sure. She smells a little like a beta, but totally different than a beta at the same time. She’s like no werewolf I’ve ever smelled before.” He looked at Gage. “There’s not some other kind of werewolf out there you haven’t told us about, is there? One that doesn’t fall into the three categories we already know about.”
“Not that I know of.” Gage frowned. “What makes her so special?”
“You mean besides her unique scent?” Max asked.
Gage nodded.
Max refrained from revealing the part about Lana being the most amazing woman he’d ever met in his life and that she could mess with his control over his werewolf half simply by standing too close to him. Instead, he focused on the serious stuff.
“She never gave me a single indication she recognized me as a werewolf the whole time we were talking. I swear, it’s like she didn’t even notice,” Max said. “There’s something else, though, that definitely doesn’t fit with anything we know about werewolves?”
“What’s that?” Brooks prompted.
“She’s a pescatarian.”
It was Zane’s turn to frown. “What’s that?”
“A vegetarian who eats fish, eggs, and dairy, but not meat,” Max explained. “I thought she was joking at the time, but now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t.”
That seemed to shake the guys more than his announcement that there was a werewolf in the room they couldn’t smell. Max could understand why. Regardless of the kind of
werewolf they’d run into, two basic facts had always held true: Werewolves ate a lot of food to make up for the speed at which their bodies burned calories. And the majority of their diet was composed of meat. Gage had told them it had something to do with a werewolf needing a lot of protein to repair all the damage they were constantly sustaining. Which was why Lana probably wasn’t a strict vegetarian.
“A werewolf who doesn’t eat meat?” Zane looked at Gage. “Is that even possible?”
Before that question could lead to a long, meaningless argument that had nothing to do with the current situation, Max figured he should tell them the big news.
“Oh, and while we’re talking about what makes her different,” he said, “I should probably mention she’s Deputy Chief Mason’s daughter.”
His teammates stared at him, stunned. Gage in particular looked as though Max had just smacked him with an axe handle.
“What makes you so sure Mason is her father?” Gage asked hesitantly, not like he doubted Max, but as if he was praying Max was wrong.
“Well, there was the part where she said, ‘Hey, Dad,’ when he came over to us. That was sort of a dead giveaway,” Max said dryly. “Then there was the part where Mason told Lana he wanted to introduce her to some pretty boy lawyer and suggested I was going to be too busy with overtime for the next month to even think about seeing her again. That kind of screamed overprotective father to me.”
Gage blew out a breath. “Okay, I didn’t see that coming.”
“You think Mason knows we’re werewolves?” Brooks asked quietly. “If his own daughter is one, he has to be able to recognize the signs.”
His teammates looked at each other, concern written plainly on their faces. It was one thing having people like Jeremy Engler or Armend Frasheri know about their identities. Those guys were psychopaths no one was likely to ever believe. But a deputy chief in the Dallas PD was someone people would take seriously.
“If you’d asked me five minutes ago, I would have said there’s no way in hell Mason knows,” Gage said. “But now? It would be pressing the limits of credibility to assume he doesn’t.”
“What do we do?” Diego asked softly. Crap, he looked ready to bolt.
“For now, nothing,” Gage said. “If Max is right about this, it’s likely Mason has known about us for years. If he’d wanted to do something with that information, he already would have done it. He’s probably just as worried about this secret getting out as we are. He wouldn’t want it coming back on his daughter.”
Brooks nodded. “Makes sense. Are you going to talk to him about it?”
“When the time is right, yes,” Gage said. “It’s not like I can walk into his office and bring it up.”
Max snorted. No kidding.
He was just wondering if he should circle the room looking for Lana again when a now-familiar scent drifted across his nose. His pack mates forgotten for the moment, Max turned to see Lana coming his way, her hips swaying suggestively and doing crazy things to his pulse. He was so focused on the dazzling smile Lana gave him that he didn’t even realize Brandy was with her until both women were right in front of him.
“I was worried you’d already left,” Lana said, her intoxicating scent washing over him like a gentle wave. “I wanted to apologize for my father. I don’t know why he was acting like that. Sometimes I think he forgets I’m twenty-three years old and can take care of myself.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Max grinned. “I’m glad you found me. I thought you might have run off with that guy in the fancy suit.”
Lana laughed. “Oh, the suit definitely tried to get me to leave with him. He even said he’d take me out to some fancy French restaurant named Chambre Française that everybody raves about. I told him I wasn’t interested because I already had another offer for dinner.” She gave him a sexy smile. “You were going to take me out for that slice of pizza, weren’t you?”
“Definitely. I love pizza.” He grinned, about to suggest they split right then until he remembered he was wearing his dress uniform. “I need to stop by my place and change first, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I was going to mention that I need to get out of this dress.”
“I could help you with that, if you need a hand,” Max said before he could stop himself.
Lana gave him an appraising look, her lips curving. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I can manage…just this once. Why don’t you pick me up at my parents’ house? That’s where I’m staying while I’m in town. I can be ready to go in forty minutes.”
Max didn’t like the sound of that. If she was staying at her parents’ house while she was in Dallas, that meant she didn’t live here and was only visiting. Crap, dude, slow down and take this one step at a time. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet and he was already worrying about the future.
“That works for me,” he said. “Let me get the address from you.”
He was just reaching for his phone when one of his teammates—Diego, he thought—cleared his throat. Crap, he’d totally forgotten they were standing there. Turning, he quickly made introductions.
While Lana typed her address into his phone, Brandy glanced at the grocery list on the table, her eyes widening.
“You must be feeding an army with all that stuff,” she remarked.
Diego flashed her a grin. “Just us and the rest of our team. We’re having a party tonight out at the SWAT compound with some of our friends.”
Brandy returned his smile. “Is that right?”
Max would be the first to admit he didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about this kind of stuff, but there definitely seemed to be some sparks between Lana’s friend and Diego.
“I sent myself a text so I’d have your number,” Lana said, handing Max his phone. “See you in forty minutes? Actually, better make it an hour. I have to drop Brandy off at her place on the way.”
Brandy shook her head, never taking her eyes off Diego. “I think I’m good, Lana. If you guys don’t mind me crashing your party?”
“Not at all,” Diego said, his grin broadening.
Brandy licked her lips. “Let me make a quick run to the ladies’ room and I’ll be ready to go.”
Lana looked at Max. “So, forty minutes?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
As Lana walked away, Max had a hard time figuring out where to look—her sexy legs or her equally sexy butt. Both were amazing. Only when she’d completely disappeared from sight did he turn back to the guys to find them grinning at him.
“What?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Brooks said. “I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the cookout tonight, huh?”
Like Brooks even needed to ask. “What do you think of Lana? She smells like some kind of beta, right?”
Brook shrugged. “She definitely smells like some kind of werewolf, but the scent is faint. I wouldn’t have picked it up if she wasn’t standing right in front of me.” He eyed Max thoughtfully. “I’m surprised you were able to pick it up from across the room. You don’t have the greatest of noses.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s The One for Max,” Zane, the Pack’s one and only werewolf of London, pointed out.
“Maybe,” Max said noncommittally.
If Zane expected him to deny it, he was going to be disappointed. The idea of every werewolf having one perfect soul mate for him, or her, wasn’t a big deal to Max. None of the guys in the Pack who’d already met their one-in-a-billion significant other were complaining, but some of his other pack mates had started wondering if they had a say in any of it.
The legend that there was a woman out there for each of them who would accept them for what they were sounded cool at first. Who didn’t want to meet an awesome woman and be in a relationship that didn’t require you to hide what the hell you really were? But then
it started happening over and over again, against all possible odds, and after a while, it seemed like the guys were falling in love whether they were ready for it or not. Hell, for ridiculous reasons of his own, Remy Boudreaux had tried to fight his attraction to his mate, Triana Bellamy, and he’d made himself physically ill from trying to resist her.
While it wasn’t something any of them would admit out loud, Max knew a few of the currently unattached guys in the Pack were scared the same genetic mutation that had turned them into werewolves in the first place was now mating them up with women of its choosing simply to make the Pack stronger for what everyone assumed was a coming war with the hunters.
If there was some kind of undeniable force out there pairing them up with the first suitable woman who came along, Max could understand why they might be freaked out. No one wanted to think their free will was being stripped away and replaced by pack instinct. But the whole idea of finding that one perfect woman he was meant to be with had never worried him, which was probably why he’d been one of the first werewolves in the Pack to embrace the idea of finding a soul mate.
Of course, if he was being honest with himself, he’d admit it was because he never truly thought it could happen to him. After all the crap that had happened with his old man, he knew he was a little messed up. What woman would want to deal with all his baggage?
But maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Lana was The One for him. It was an appealing—and scary—thought.
Okay, that was enough introspection for now.
“I’m going to get out of here,” Max said. “Take good care of Brandy, huh?”
He glanced at his watch, quickening his step as he headed for the exit. He was going to have to hurry if he wanted to change clothes and pick up Lana on time.
Max was halfway across the parking lot when he smelled Gage behind him. He stopped and turned to see his boss eyeing him with obvious concern.
“What’s up, Sarge?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you about Lana,” Gage said. “You know Zane’s probably right about her being The One, don’t you? The fact that you picked up her scent all the way across the room when Brooks, of all people, didn’t has to mean something. It sounds a hell of a lot like what happened to Remy when he met Triana.”
