Code Wolf

Fatigue melted away. Riley was out of the car in seconds, listening hard, and issuing a whispered challenge. “Come on. Do it again. I dare you.”

Cell phone in hand—she wasn’t stupid, after all—she locked the car, turned toward the sidewalk and started out in three-inch heels that wouldn’t let her win a race, but would get her far enough.

She hadn’t experienced tingling nerves like this in some time. They drew her half a block to the east, where she’d still be within safety limits. Men and women strolled in both directions, oblivious to the finer art of adventure. None of them glanced up at the sky. Noise from the pubs and restaurants blurred her ability to hear much else.

When more chills arrived, along with a sudden awareness of being stared at, Riley slowed to glance at the man who leaned against the side of an open doorway. His face was half-hidden by the shadows of an overhead awning that spanned most of the sidewalk, and yet Riley knew he was looking at her in a predatory way. Not man-to-woman stuff. Something else. Something more.

With a tight grip on her cell phone, she passed by him, careful to avoid any kind of contact that might have been misconstrued as an invitation. She’d been fed those kinds of self-defense tips for breakfast in the Price household and knew them all by heart.

Show no weakness.

Be a predator, not someone else’s prey.

Almost able to hear her dad say those words, Riley smiled, which would have been the wrong thing to do if she hadn’t already put some distance between that creep by the bar and herself. Nevertheless, she took one more quick look over her shoulder...just before she felt the firm grip of a hand on her arm.

Derek silently counted to five, nodded and took another step forward, hoping to taunt the vampires that were hiding here into showing themselves. Possibly they were going over their options for getting away, as if they actually had some.

Another step took him closer to the cans lining the walls. The stench of rotting food was unbelievable. And this was taking too damn long.

He kicked the closest can with the tip of his boot, providing more incentive for the fanged abominations to make an appearance. Vampires had sensitive hearing and didn’t like noise.

He kicked the can again and it rolled sideways, spilling what was left of its contents—unrecognizable stuff with an unbelievable odor.

The challenge worked.

One of the vamps dropped from above the trash cans as if it actually might have been half bat, as the old wives’ tales suggested. Its partner followed. They were a pair of completely colorless creatures whose dirty and tattered clothing suggested they might have recently crawled up from the grave.

A ripple of disgust rolled over Derek.

Both of these guys were drenched in blood that was now darkening. Tiny red rivulets of what had been some human’s life force ran in tracks down the sides of their white faces. Red-rimmed eyes peered back at him with dull, flat, lifeless gazes. Whatever kind of voodoo had animated this pair remained one of life’s great mysteries.

Derek didn’t waste any time in going after them. In this instance, their newness to the vamp bag of tricks was in Were favor. The dark-eyed pair had speed, but he and Dale far outweighed them. When their bodies collided, the two vamp fledglings shrieked with anger, yellow fangs snapping, but couldn’t escape the claws that snagged their rotted clothing.

After spinning his bloodsucker around in a circle, Derek tossed his opponent against the brick. The bloodsucker quickly rallied and was on him again in a flash with arms and legs flailing. The creep was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked.

Derek’s muscles corded as he fought to send this ghastly creature back to its natural state of death. Actually, he was doing these monsters a favor, because who would have wanted to end up in such a sorry state?

He felt the breeze of snapping canines that had gotten too close to his face and he roared with displeasure. The sheer menace in that preternaturally wolfish sound temporarily stunned the vampire in his grasp.

That’s it. Those teeth of yours won’t harm anyone else in this city. You won’t accidentally make another bloodsucker in your image, and further contribute to the pain in my ass.

Dale had maneuvered his vampire to the back of the alley, where there was an even slimmer chance for it to escape. Derek danced his flailing abomination in the same direction, whirling, ducking, lunging to the side to avoid the sucker’s uncanny ability to recover.

The only way to keep those pointed teeth from making contact with his flesh was by taking a firm hold on the bastard’s neck. But since vampires didn’t actually breathe, a good squeeze wasn’t going to suffocate the creature into submission.

The vampire’s spine hit the wall with a thud that shook the brick. The wily creature brought up its filthy bare feet and straddled Derek’s body with legs made mostly of brittle bone and strings of sinew.

Fine little hairs on the back of his neck lifted as Derek shoved off the creature. With a fresh round of strength fueled by disgust, he finally got the vampire on the ground, on its back, where it fought like it had five limbs instead of four. When the sucker gurgled with anger, black blood bubbled from its lips.

“This is the end. I’m sure you’ll thank me later. And really, there is no pleasure in this, and only a necessary kind of justice.”

Dale, close by, tossed him a stake, which Derek caught in one hand. With one final burst of energy, he stuck that wooden stake deep into the vamp’s chest, in the spot where its heart had once beat.

Go in peace, vampire.

The creature exploded as if it hadn’t been actually composed of flesh and bone at all, but merely a bunch of musty pieces that had been glued together. Seconds later, a rain of nasty, odorous gray ash swirled through the area like a twister.

A second explosion rocked the area moments after that. Amid a flurry of ash that was temporarily blinding, Derek turned his head to see Dale smiling back at him.

“Mission accomplished,” Derek messaged to his packmate. Or so he thought before the soft, muffled sound of a human in trouble reached him from the street beyond.

Across the filthy, ash-strewn alley’s crackled asphalt, above the musty gray dust that had quickly settled to the ground, Dale’s eyes again met his.

Chapter 3

Riley was no weakling, but the guy was extraordinarily strong and fast, using his other hand to spin her around. He now had her by the waist with a hand clamped over her mouth.

Despite her rocketing pulse, she got one good kick in before he pulled her into the shadows so fast, it happened between one blink of her eyes and the next. Still, she wasn’t going to play dead or be reduced to a teary mess, and managed to connect with the guy’s shin with a second kick. When his hand fell away from her mouth, Riley shouted for help.

The fight she put up had surprised her attacker. His hold on her waist loosened enough for her to pull back and spin sideways. They were near the entrance to an underground restaurant and yet no one had seen this happen because the asshole’s timing had been impeccable.

She heard her phone hit the sidewalk and didn’t have the opportunity to retrieve it. Hands came at her again as if the guy was half octopus, and as if he had more at stake here than she did. He clasped her throat to choke off a call for help.

“Bastard!” she shouted.

A filmy blur of movement danced around her, reminiscent of a storm system moving in. The whirlwind was so strong, she flew backward, stumbled and almost lost her footing. The jolt of hitting a wall knocked her senseless. Her head snapped back. Stars danced in her vision and her stomach turned over.

That’s when things really got fuzzy.

Did the ass who had manhandled her have accomplices? There were now three moving blurs of speed in the area. Mere streaks of movement. Nothing defined. And she had a concussion. Either that or these new guys were larger than any humans she had ever seen. The sounds they made were fierce, threatening, and similar to sounds animals made in the wild. Each grunt and growl added to the pressure in her skull.

It occurred to her that she had been dropped into the middle of one of those horror movies she had been thinking about. Strange sounds under a full moon reinforced the thought.

Looking up made her dizziness worse. Her knees started to buckle. Her vision narrowed as a hovering net of blackness slowly descended. Riley dug deep for more courage. She could get away while no one was looking, find the phone she had dropped and call for help.

Another arm closed around her before she had completed the plan. Although she struggled to get free, she could hardly breathe past the pain in her head, let alone rally for another attack.

Uttering a string of curses, she tried to focus her eyes and found nothing in front of her but a wide expanse of someone’s bare chest.

“Damn it.”

She whispered more curses as she was lifted up and swept off her feet. The only way to stop the unusual sensation of having the ground ripped from beneath her was to close her eyes.

Another sound ricocheted inside her head, seeming to echo noises she had heard before. Though she couldn’t have been colder, a new round of chills arrived when she recognized what that sound was.

With her heart rate nearing critical mass, Riley slowly opened her eyes and took a breath before having to face whatever her fate was to be.

Nothing happened immediately. Cool wind on her face soothed the icy shame of having put herself in harm’s way. But she was in somebody’s arms, and moving away from the street. For some reason, she didn’t sense harm here, though.

Her inner defiance sparked and anger burned like a beacon.

“Put me down. Let me catch my breath.”

The arms holding her loosened considerably. Riley again felt the hard support of a wall behind her as the man did as she asked and set her down.

In her vision, this guy’s body continued to move as if he had the ability to fluidly alter his shape. Yet she knew that couldn’t be right, and after a tense moment of silence, he spoke.

“Can you stand?”

The husky, overtly masculine voice cut through the pain behind her eyes.

“You’ll be all right in a minute. We’ve called this in and someone will come to get you,” he said.

Hell, had she just been rescued? Was that what all the commotion was about?

Shaking off the last vestiges of dizziness, Riley focused all her attention on the person who had spoken to her, grateful that someone had heard her shout for help. Her attacker had been thwarted and she was going to live, after all.

Her rescuer leaned closer to her, his bare chest wide and bronzed. Her gaze traveled slowly over that broad expanse of flesh before she worked her way upward. The thanks she had meant to offer was delayed by a question that took precedence over anything else she might have said.

“Why are you half-naked?”

“You’re welcome,” the shirtless man returned after a beat.

He hadn’t stepped back to leave her. Instead, her rescuer seemed to be waiting to make sure she actually could stand up.

His physique was rock-solid. Since he towered over her, there was no way to see his face without again banging her head against the wall behind her. One concussion per night was all she could manage.

“I’m sorry.” Riley’s voice wasn’t as steady as she would have liked. “Thank you for helping me.”

The guy didn’t respond verbally. His hard, muscled body pinned her in place for a few more seconds, as if body language had its own form of communication. Riley hadn’t noticed how much she had been shivering until she felt the warmth of the man’s closeness. Through the loose weave of her sweater, her rescuer’s heat was welcome.

She sighed.

He leaned closer.

“Not an invitation,” Riley warned, turning her head to the side.

“Didn’t think it was,” he replied.

His voice was gruff, as if he hadn’t spoken in a while. At any other time, she probably would have been intrigued by that. Now she just wanted to go home.

He spoke again. “Will you be okay? I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll have to leave you here.”

The wail of a siren in the distance reminded Riley that this guy had mentioned something about calling in the incident. But as she contemplated that, wondering again why this Good Samaritan was roaming the city without his shirt, he disappeared.

His heat was gone and the night’s coolness returned. She had no one to lean against now. It was a miracle she was still standing.

The first thing that popped into her mind as she waited for the police to arrive was a ludicrous reaction to what had happened, and meant nothing, really. Nevertheless, she pursed her lips, took a deep breath and howled softly, almost to herself.

“Ar-rrooo-ooo...”

The heat returned, quick as a flash. The man who had rescued her was there to pin her to the wall again. With a mouth that was as feverish as the rest of his body, he brushed his lips across her forehead and down her right cheek. The featherlight touch, there and gone in a few fleeting seconds, left Riley breathless.

Had she made a mistake in thinking this was a good guy?

Inching backward far enough to put a finger under her chin, he carefully tilted her head so that he could look into her eyes with a studied observation. His eyes were light, maybe blue, and surrounded by dark lashes.

Riley couldn’t look away or break eye contact. The intensity in those eyes would have held her captive if his body hadn’t. In his gaze she found something weirdly beautiful and at the same time troubling. She detected a flicker of real wildness there.

Had she made this guy up in some head-injury-induced coma? Could she have banged her head that hard?

Because...

She was sure...

No. She wasn’t sure at all, actually. How stupid would that have been?

Riley listened to the absurdity of the words that came out of her mouth next, and winced when she was done.

“There are no such things as werewolves. You do know that?”

The smile this stranger offered her made her feel like she was being bathed in white light. She saw pearly teeth in a tanned face. The area around his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, above chiseled features partially darkened by a five-o’clock shadow.

That’s all she got, all she was allowed, before she found herself alone again with the lost cell phone he had somehow placed in her hand...and a splitting headache.

Chapter 4

Derek had to leave the woman or risk being caught by the people he took such pains to his hide true identity from on a daily basis. Dale was already sprinting in the opposite direction in human form, racing from shadow to shadow. But though Derek had also downsized to a human shape, he hated to leave before further help arrived for the woman they had rescued from harm. That part of being a werewolf sucked.

The woman had howled. Sort of. And she had mentioned werewolves. That alone would have intrigued him, even if she hadn’t been so damn beautiful.

What did she know about his kind? Anything? Could it be that she was just having him on with the werewolf remark, with no real idea how close to his reality she had come? Or was she fully equipped with knowledge about his kind?

She was a fierce little thing. No wallflower when it came to protecting herself. He’d witnessed that kick she had given to the imbecile he and Dale had left unconscious and handcuffed to a drainpipe.

She’d handled herself the best way she could without succumbing to shock. That took courage and also meant that her girl-next-door, wholesome looks were somewhat deceiving.

Small and feisty would have been a turn-on for a big bad wolf if he had time for such things...and if she hadn’t been human. Add to that her pale oval face, big eyes and mass of shiny blond hair, and she became a real curiosity.

With so many battles to fight these days, it was best for him to ignore distractions. He hadn’t indulged in anything that could have been considered a relationship since his heart had been broken, and he was still picking up the pieces of that breakup. It was also possible he had been wallowing a bit too long in its aftermath.

The only reason he had risked a shift back to human form in this woman’s presence was because she hadn’t been in any kind of state to have recognized what was going on at the time. Only by shifting could he have offered assurance that she was going to be okay. Her eyes had barely focused. She had been confused.

Still, and again, she had howled and mentioned werewolves.

Dale was waiting for him around the next corner, at the edge of a dimly lit parking lot. He stood in the shadows of a large sign, just any old half-dressed human to an observer’s eye. Dale also was a big guy, and formidable. No one in their right mind would have moved closer for a better look, or questioned his shirtless state. Dale’s posture alone would have prevented that.

“Do you know her?” Dale asked as Derek pulled up beside him.

“Never saw her before,” Derek replied.

“You got sort of cozy back there.”

“I just had to make sure she was all right.”

Dale grinned. “Yeah. Well, you took a while to do that. And you shifted in the presence of a human.”

“She was half-unconscious at the time,” Derek pointed out. “And she’s unusual.”

“She’s no Were,” Dale said. “I’d have thought you had learned a lesson about human women.”

Derek nodded. “Learned it loud and clear, my friend. Have no fear about that.”

Dale’s gaze swept over the parking lot. “It’s quiet now.”

Derek didn’t want to jinx things by agreeing or mentioning unnecessarily that there usually were a few moments of calm before a storm. The moon had only been up for a few hours. There was more night ahead. He figured that when word got back to the vamp queen about two of her young fledglings being dusted, vamp activity would pick up. He had a special sense for that kind of thing.

“We’d better get back to it,” he said.

“Right,” Dale agreed with a big breath as he stepped into the moonlight and, to get Derek to laugh, pounded on his chest the way male apes did in the wild. Then he pinned another grin to his rapidly morphing features. Unlike Derek, Dale was a more frightening rendition of their werewolf species—wolfish body, wolfish face, fur follicles and all.

When the light hit Derek, he closed his eyes. With an internal rumble, the changes began. The expansion of his chest came first, followed by an icy burn in his hips and legs as the mysterious chemical reaction coded into him gave his system a bump.

In a quick lightning strike of pain, his arms and torso muscled up, stretching his skin and the bones beneath. Light brown hair, usually only a little too long for a detective in Seattle, lengthened, as if a year had gone by with no trim. Last to alter were the parts of his face that took on another look with a brief, sharp, short-lived sting.

Weres, early in their lifetimes, had to either learn to adapt to these physical changes or die. The first shape-shift often weeded out the weak. There was no escaping or hiding from the inner explosions that set off a shape-shift. Everyone supposed this was a survival-of-the-fittest sort of biological trick. But getting used to the art of a body’s physical rearrangement was a Were’s mission. Being Were was a serious game of species-imposed destiny.

Dale was waiting for him to acknowledge the job of alley sweeping ahead, and Derek nodded. More vampires would come out sooner or later, and he and Dale had to be ready.

“I suppose you’d like to drop by that place and make sure the woman and her assailant were picked up?” Dale messaged wryly.

“Do you think you can read minds now?” Derek returned.

“Not all minds. Just yours.”

Derek barked a laugh. It was true that he wanted to go back there. He wanted nothing more, in fact.

“Just to check on the perp,” he sent to Dale.

“You go right ahead and tell yourself that,” Dale messaged back.

Hell, maybe Dale really could read minds...

“It’s dangerous to retrace our steps,” Dale warned.

Derek shrugged his massive shoulders. “Dangerous for whom? The idiot that tried to attack a woman on a busy street, or us?”

“Well, you’ve got me there.”

Dale matched Derek’s confident stride across the parking lot as they turned to the east again with renewed purpose.

At the very least, Derek decided, he had to find out who that woman was, and what her remarks about werewolves meant. She would have been questioned by the officers who picked her up, so there would be paperwork filed. Her personal information would be on that paperwork.

Even better, with the attacker in custody, she’d have to be questioned further. And he knew just the right detective to help with that, even if doing so might mean treading on another detective’s casework.

“Smell that?” Dale asked.

“Hell yeah,” Derek returned.

They exchanged glances, growled in unison and took off in the direction of the latest ill wind.

Four cops arrived in Riley’s rescuer’s wake. She marshalled her strength, since she needed to make sure they took the guy who had caused all this chaos into custody.

The jerk was still unconscious and was handcuffed to a pipe near the entrance to the nearby alley. Cops were looking from her to him with unspoken questions on their faces.

“A couple of big guys came to my rescue,” she said. “Looks like this was my lucky night.”

“They did that? Cuffed him?” one of the officers asked, checking out the standard-issue cuffs she had seen a thousand times hanging from her father’s belt loops.

“Cops?” the officer continued.

“Possibly,” Riley replied. “Though they weren’t in uniform.”

The officer nodded. “Plainclothes guys, most likely. Are you hurt, ma’am? Are you in need of medical assistance?”

Riley thought about that. Actually, she was okay, except for the headache and the thought of having had a near brush with death.

“A ride would be nice,” she said. “To my car.”

“We’ll have to take a statement,” another officer pointed out.

Riley nodded. “I can give you that.”

She knew the drill about that, too. She could talk about the attempted abduction, but she couldn’t even begin to describe her rescuer in any way that wouldn’t make her sound crazy. Shirtless male? Rippling muscle that didn’t seem to be able to settle on his big frame? Volcanic heat? Eyes like laser beams?

Maybe since these guys assumed she’d been helped by plainclothes officers, they wouldn’t ask too many questions or press her for descriptions.

Should she mention those howls she had heard?

No way. Absolutely not. In doing so, she’d be putting her reputation on the line before she even had a reputation. Besides, the strange noises she’d heard had nothing to do with what had happened here. She had merely been in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

No longer dizzy or wobbly in the knees, Riley glanced up at the sky. Though clouds were moving in, the moon was on full display. After what had happened tonight, that moon suddenly seemed kind of sinister.

A young officer—the badge on his shirt said his name was Marshall—helped her to the cruiser parked at the curb with a steadying hand on her elbow. Silent and subdued, he waited until she sat down inside before making eye contact. Then he smiled knowingly, as if they were co-conspirators and shared a secret. Riley recognized the look.