Secret of the Wolf Page 21

  “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. He said he’d be in touch with me, and I haven’t heard from him since then.” She stood. “Tobias, please understand. He’s family. I’ve been alone for so long, it seemed like a miracle that my brother and cousin came back into my life.”

  “Hold on a second.” Tobias’s gaze hardened even further. “Your brother is in town? He didn’t come to the meeting.”

  “I know. I’ve already talked to him about that. He was supposed to and…blew it off. I’ll get him to the next one.” She swallowed. “I wasn’t hiding him. Or Stefan. I just wanted my cousin to get a fair hearing for his crimes. I didn’t know he was behind the rift device.” She stared at Nix. “I didn’t know he was the one who tried to kill you. I swear.”

  Nix shook her head and crossed her arms, turning to stride to the window and look outside.

  Finally, Tobias blew out a breath. “Okay. I can’t say I’m happy about this, but I understand.” He glanced at his wife, and Tori knew he was thinking about how alone he’d been before he and Nix had gotten back together. His stern eyes returned to Tori. “If he contacts you, call me immediately. Immediately,” he ordered.

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I will.” She inhaled slowly. “Is there any way you can…” She trailed off at the unforgiving look on his face. “Never mind. I’m sorry,” she said.

  After a couple of seconds, Tobias rubbed the back of his neck. “Forget about it. Just let me know when you hear from him.”

  She could tell he was still angry, but there wasn’t a lot he could do. Stefan hadn’t reached out to her since that first chance meeting, and she didn’t have his contact info. When she drove away a few minutes later, she’d never felt more helpless in her entire life.

  It was moments like this that made her wonder why she did what she did. If she wasn’t a council liaison it wouldn’t have been such a big deal that her cousin was Natchook. It wouldn’t be such an enormous thing to have a brother who might be the rogue werewolf. All she’d ever wanted was family. Why did she have to get saddled with the Munsters?

  Chapter Seventeen

  So none of the combatants from the grocery store are our rogue up in quad four?” Captain Scott perched one buttock on the edge of Dante’s desk and folded his arms over his chest.

  Dante shook his head. “The council liaisons have conducted the interviews with the vamps and werewolves involved, and they’re satisfied with their alibis for the other nights in question.” He picked up a folder that had the completed report and handed it to his boss. “You can read it for yourself if you’d like.”

  Scott thumbed through it, the scowl on his face deepening. After a few seconds he tossed the file back onto Dante’s desk. “Do you believe ’em?”

  Dante rocked back in his chair. “Believe who?”

  “The liaisons.”

  “Of course.” Dante knew Tori was truthful and wouldn’t go along with any kind of cover-up. “Why would they lie?”

  Scott’s brows beetled. “I can’t believe one of my best detectives would be that naïve. People lie all the time, MacMillan, sometimes for no reason at all.”

  Dante shook his head. “I know people lie. I’m just not sure what they’d gain in this particular case. They don’t want rogues runnin’ around attacking people any more than we do.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Scott leaned forward, resting his forearm on his thigh. “The more of them there are, the more power they have.”

  Dante couldn’t tell his captain about the rift device, and the very real threat that many more preternaturals might be joining them at the next Influx in December than anticipated. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, there was still someone turning people.

  Scott’s brows crinkled. “Hell, we don’t know for sure how many EDs are on this planet, do we? Not every ED reports in with their regional council. There could be twice as many as we think. Hell, they could already outnumber us.”

  “It’s impossible to tell for certain,” Dante murmured. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being at the bottom of the food chain on a planet full of vampires, shapeshifters, and other creatures that go bump in the night. The reality was they didn’t know how many prets lived on Earth. Hell, they didn’t even know exactly how many were in Scottsdale, let alone the entire planet.

  “That’s why I’m supporting Senator Martin’s Preternatural Registration Act.” Scott shook his head. “I ain’t turning into a minority without a fight.”

  Dante brought his chair up straight. Humans had been living with preternaturals for a very long time; they just hadn’t known until it became common knowledge. “You’d support legislation that would require prets to register with their local government and be fitted with a microchip?”

  “It would allow them to be identified as an ED and list what type they are. And it could keep pertinent medical information as well,” he said, as if that made the whole idea acceptable. “Maybe someday…” His voice lowered. “That microchip might also be a GPS. Hell, we do it with dogs.”

  Dante shook his head. “People will never go for that.” He’d never support something like that. It would be like accepting that prets were no more than animals. And he knew for damn sure that Tori was much more than a wolf.

  “Why not?”

  “If we start putting GPS and RFID chips inside prets, how long will it be before someone starts thinking it’d be a good thing to do with humans?” He leaned to one side, resting his forearm on the desk. “That’s why California and a couple other states passed laws prohibiting the forced implant of microchips into humans.”

  “Exactly.” Scott pointed a finger for emphasis. “I don’t have a problem about not allowing it for humans. But we’re not talking about humans, are we? We’re talking about EDs.”

  “Sounds like Nazism all over again to me.” Dante crossed one leg over the other. “As long as you’re not preternatural, you have nothing to worry about, right? Then someone decides that a certain race, religion, or political view is just as undesirable as prets. Where will it stop?”

  “You’re overthinking this, MacMillan. Humans have nothing to worry about if the PRA goes into law.”

  “And when the rift happens and you suddenly find that you’ve become a werewolf? What then?” Dante stared at his captain. “Will you willingly join the others and line up to be injected with a microchip?”

  Scott stood up. “If it’s the law, I will.”

  “That’s my point.” Dante leaned forward. “It shouldn’t be the law, especially not here, in this country. We were founded on the ideal that all people are created equal.”

  Suddenly, one of the other detectives signaled Captain Scott. “Well, I guess that all depends on your definition of ‘people,’” his boss said as he straightened. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, MacMillan.” He walked away to talk to the other man.

  Dante huffed a sigh. This Preternatural Registration Act was a slippery slope. While he was uneasy about the uncertainty of the numbers of prets in their midst, he would never support forced microchipping.

  He glanced at his watch. Almost six P.M. It had been a quiet day as far as new cases, which allowed him to get caught up on paperwork. He hadn’t heard from Tori at all, aside from a quick text to say hello. He wondered if something was wrong. Perhaps he’d missed a cue that she was unhappy with how things had gone between them. Then he told himself to stop being such a girl about it. If she hadn’t called, it probably meant she was busy and nothing more.

  He knew that if he didn’t hear from her soon, he was going to call her, damn it. He stood and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair. “See ya tomorrow,” he said to the detective at the desk next to his.

  “Have a good one,” the man responded without looking up from his keyboard.

  Dante left the building, the humidity slapping him in the face. God, he’d be glad when summer was over and they went back to more temperate weather. He unlocked his truck and cl
imbed behind the wheel. Once he got it started he flipped the air conditioning to high and buckled himself in. He was partway home when his phone rang. He reached into his back pocket and brought the cell to his ear. “MacMillan.”

  “It’s Tori.” She sounded a little tired but that voice…it was enough to make his body tighten with anticipation.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” He exited the 101 loop freeway and made a right onto Shea Boulevard. “How’d your day go?”

  “Fine.” She didn’t sound so sure. “I’m actually still working, but I need to talk to you. Do you want to meet me at the Devil’s Domain tonight for drinks?”

  “Sure. Would you rather go someplace for dinner?” He flipped his right turn signal and drove onto his street. “Or you can come over to my place.” Where there was plenty of food and a king-sized bed.

  “I already ate something,” she replied. “I really need to be around people tonight. Pick up some energy from the crowd. Is that okay?”

  “Honey, whatever you need is fine by me.” Dante could tell something was bothering her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her sigh was heavy with dejection. “It’s more than one thing, but to start…I don’t know where Rand is. His bed wasn’t slept in, and he hasn’t returned any of my calls.” She sighed again. “I’m worried about him.”

  Dante figured her douche bag of a brother could take care of himself, but he didn’t like hearing the worry in Tori’s voice. “He’s probably out with friends.”

  “He’s been here only a couple of weeks. He doesn’t have any friends, at least none that he’s talked about.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, we can talk about it tonight.”

  “All right. When do you want to meet?”

  “Can you make it in an hour?”

  He pulled into his driveway and in another few seconds stopped the truck in front of the house. An hour would give him time for a shower, a fresh change of clothes, and a bite to eat. “I’ll see you around seven-thirty.”

  At seven-fifteen Dante pulled into the parking lot of the club, feeling human again after a cool shower and a quick hamburger and fries. Lily had tried to get him to eat a salad. Instead, he’d put some lettuce and a slice of tomato on his burger. His sister had not been impressed with his efforts at compromise.

  He didn’t see Tori’s car when he shut off the ignition and climbed down from behind the wheel. He’d taken a few steps when he heard something off to his left. A click-clack that wasn’t quite the heel of a shoe, but more like…He paused to listen. The sound stopped as well. He started walking again and the sound began once more.

  In his years as a cop he’d learned to trust his gut, and right now it was telling him he was in trouble. He slowly reached beneath his jacket and thumbed the safety snap on his holster. He kept his breathing slow and even, and focused on his surroundings.

  There were a dozen or so people at the front door waiting to get in. Another car pulled into the lot and parked a few aisles over from the one he was walking down. And the click-clack of what sounded like dog claws stayed with him.

  Dante drew his gun slowly, keeping his hand under his jacket, and clicked off the safety. His only warning was a low, wet-sounding growl. He whirled, bringing his gun up. A snapping, snarling wolf, amber eyes glowing, gray fur standing upright at its scruff was already airborne. Dante went down beneath its weight, grunting when his body met the asphalt. He discharged his weapon. Once. Twice. Three times. Shouts and screams filled his ears. In the struggle, his hand got slammed to the pavement, and he lost his grip on the gun. It skittered out of reach. He fastened his fingers in the wolf’s fur at its neck, trying to keep those snapping jaws from clamping down on his face.

  The wolf—werewolf!—looked at him with intelligent hatred glowing in its eyes. The damned thing knew who he was. This wasn’t a random attack. It shifted its weight, rocking back, dislodging Dante’s grip for a moment.

  And that moment was all it took.

  Sharp teeth clamped onto Dante’s shoulder, cutting through layers of clothing to bite through flesh. Pain slashed deep. Dante yelled and balled up his fists to hit the wolf on the side of its head. The animal merely growled and tightened its jaws.

  Dante groaned. Agony radiated from his shoulder downward. Bright spots floated at the edge of his vision. God, he couldn’t black out now. This thing would eat him alive. Literally.

  He began losing feeling in his right arm. He brought up his left fist and punched the werewolf’s nose. It yipped and growled, but didn’t loosen its hold. Dante struck it again, as hard as he could. He felt the wolf’s hold loosen, just a bit, and he struggled to get his feet between him and this furry bastard. Another punch to the werewolf’s nose shoved its head back.

  Dante curled his fingers into the fur and the wolf’s neck again, doing his best to hold it at bay. Just when he thought he was going to lose that battle, the wolf was knocked off him by another, smaller wolf. Dante rolled to his feet, darted over, and grabbed up his gun in his left hand and trained it on the two snarling animals in front of him.

  The smaller wolf, mostly black with smatterings of brown, showed its teeth as a low, vicious-sounding growl rolled up from its chest. The gray wolf tried to stand its ground, but after a few more seconds its tail drooped between its legs and it scampered away.

  The remaining wolf lifted its muzzle and sniffed the air, then turned toward Dante. He broadened his stance and kept his weapon trained on the animal.

  The wolf sat on its haunches and gave a low whine, its amber gaze trained on Dante. A slight swish of its tail got his mind working. “Tori?” he asked.

  Dante holstered his weapon, glad the department had had the foresight to budget for silver bullets. He’d stop complaining about not having a car provided by the city as long as they kept spending money on silver ammunition. His right shoulder was on fire. He winced in pain and put a hand to the wound, feeling hot, sticky blood coat his palm. “You should probably get outta here,” he told the wolf.

  She nodded and disappeared between two cars.

  “Hey, man, are you okay?” A couple of burly guys ran up to him. “We called the cops.”

  “I am a cop, but thanks. The more the merrier.” Dante leaned one hip against the nearest car. It was that or fall on his face. Attacked by a werewolf and saved by another one. All in a night’s work.

  “You should come inside,” one of the men said. “In case that thing comes back.” He paused and then asked, “You sure you’re all right, man? You’re bleedin’.”

  “I’m good, thanks.” Dante was confident that Tori had chased the other wolf off, and he also needed to make sure the scene was preserved. He’d get medical help later. There was nothing that could be done for him now. If the werewolf had released any of its essence into Dante’s bloodstream, Dante was looking at spending these final few hours as a human. He pulled his ID from his back pocket and showed it to them. “I need to make sure nothing gets disturbed.” He looked at the men. “Would you guys be willing to stand up at that end and keep people from coming this way until the police get here?”

  “Glad to do it.” They walked off, talking animatedly, their voices excited at what they’d witnessed.

  Dante changed position to park his rear on the hood of the car. In another minute or so he heard Tori call his name.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, heading his way. She was dressed in a filmy blue dress that seemed to float around her calves as she hurried toward him. Her nostrils flared and she hurried her pace. “You’re bleeding!”

  “I’m fine.” He looked a little closer. Seeing the sway of her breasts, he realized she didn’t have a bra on.

  She must have seen where his gaze went, because she muttered, “I didn’t have time to put all my clothes back on.”

  In just a few seconds she stood beside him and placed a hand against his cheek. “My God. When I saw him on top of you…” Her indrawn breath was shaky. “He could have killed you.”

  Tori drew another trem
bling breath and gently pulled Dante’s shirt and jacket away from his shoulder. The wound wasn’t as bad as it could have been; it had already stopped bleeding. But his flesh was mangled and would need stitches.

  There were all kinds of scents here: fear and aggression, relief and dismay, the coppery tang of blood. And Rand, of course. Her brother’s smell was all over Dante.

  Her brother had attacked her lover. Why would he do that? He’d seemed to come to terms with her relationship, so why attack Dante? And why now?

  She took Dante’s hands in hers and lifted them, turning them over and seeing a raw scrape on the back of his left hand. “You’ll need to get checked out,” she murmured, looking at small bits of dirt and asphalt in the wound. “Dante…” She stared into his eyes, unsure of how to tell him her brother was his attacker.

  He squeezed her fingers. “I’m all right, honey.” Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her lips, a caress that only made her want more. “I’m sorry about this. I know you needed to talk.”

  He’d nearly been mauled by her brother and he was apologizing? She couldn’t stand it. “Dante, I have to tell you…”

  A council crime scene van pulled into the parking lot along with two police cars and an unmarked unit. The plainclothes detective got out of the vehicle and leaned his arm on the upper edge of the door. “Hey, MacMillan, how’d you get here so fast?”

  “He’s the victim, man.” A guy standing at the end of the row of cars spoke up.

  The detective’s brows rose. “Is that a fact?” He looked at Dante. “You gonna start goin’ furry on us?”

  “No.” Dante scowled.

  Tori didn’t blame him. His co-worker looked like he was about to crack up laughing. It wouldn’t be so funny if it had been his ass under the snapping jaws of a werewolf. And it was entirely possible he could turn. Though she’d be surprised if Rand had wanted to turn Dante into a werewolf. No, she was pretty sure he meant to kill him.

  The uniformed officers joined the detective, standing with hands on their guns like they expected Dante to shift into a werewolf at any minute.