Shadow of the Moon #1 (Werewolf Shifter Romance)

by Mac Flynn

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I whipped my head to and fro, but there was nothing there. It wasn't so much I heard or saw something was wrong as I felt something was wrong. It was one of those times where all the modern tricks of humans were thrown out the window in favor of pure primal instinct.

  I stood and pointed my gun at the ground with my hands wrapped tightly around the grip. My quick breathing was the only noise I heard. My heart thumped against my chest. I stepped towards the back door. The entrance was metal and windowless. I raised my gun.

  The door swung open and a large shadow flew out the entrance. It landed between me and the dead man and rolled until it hit the fence. Part of the shadow sat up, and it was then I realized the shadow was two men joined in combat. The man on top had his back to me. He lifted his hand above his foe and I could see something sharp glistened on his long fingers. Claws. Impossibly long claws.

  I swung towards him and pointed the barrel of my gun at his back. "Freeze!"

  He spun around and snarled at me. My mouth fell agape as I saw the outside of his face was covered in fur and his ears were pointed. He had long, sharp teeth and yellow eyes. His nostrils were overly large and constantly sniffed the air.

  The man on the bottom took advantage of the distraction. He pushed his feet against the snarling thing's chest and shoved him away. The man flew past me and into the brick wall. He left an outline in the bricks that would have crushed a normal man's rib cage, but he pulled himself out of the hole. The creature-man dove at me. I got off a shot into his chest, but that didn't slow him down. He wrapped his furry arms around me and crushed me against his chest. My gun dropped to the ground at my feet.

  "Give me the moonstone or she dies," he growled at his foe.

  The man in front of us was a man. In the weak light I could see he wore a black business shirt and matching dark pants. He was tall, almost a head taller than me, with short, sandy-brown hair. His eyes were a shimmering red and he stood straight with an air of confidence around him that made the guy in back of me quiver. There was a sly, confident grin on her face that would've made me swoon if I was the swooning type.

  "Let her go and return what you stole," the fancy man demanded.

  The thing that held me laughed. "You really think I'm that stupid?"

  "You are if you don't let her go and give back what you've taken," the other man countered.

  The man who held me shifted his weight. "Well, I'm not that stupid and I'm not letting her go! Now just let me pass with the girl and the moonstone or-"

  I didn't get to find out what 'or' represented. The 'man' in front of us used dug his toes into the ground and pushed off towards us. His speed was incredible. He covered ten yards in two seconds, an enviable speed for us cops. The well-dressed man tackled the one who held me, but not before he was able to get off a long scratch across my neck.

  I cried out and fell to the ground. Something wet and sticky coursed down my neck. My blood. He'd cut deep into me. I rolled over and looked behind me in time to see the suited man pick the other one up by his neck. My attacker squirmed and garbled for mercy.

  "Please! Please!" he choked out.

  The man pulled a gun from his pants and pressed it against his captive's temple. "No mercy for the weak. You know that."

  He pulled back on the trigger. I shut my eyes. This gun had a suppressor so the sound was muffled, but not the effect. I opened my eyes and winced at all the blood and brain matter that was splattered against the brick wall. The living man dropped the other to the ground in a crumple of dead limbs.

  He turned to me.

  My eyes widened and I looked around for my gun. It lay a foot away from me. I dove for it and snatched it off the ground. The man walked towards me and I lifted the gun and pointed it at him. My hand shook so hard I could hardly keep the sight on his chest.

  "D-don't come any closer," I gasped.

  He kept coming. I fired two shots into his chest. Like the other man, they had no effect on him. I aimed again, but by this time the blood loss was too much. My arms fell useless to the ground and I rolled over to cough out some dark, sticky blood.

  The man knelt beside me and grasped my chin between his fingers. He lifted my head so we faced each other. I saw a softness in his eyes that calmed me. An idle thought of a soothing death flitted through my mind.

  He smiled and shook his head. "You won't die. You're weak, but you don't live within our rules. Not yet." He leaned forward and caught my blood-stained lips in a soft, teasing kiss. The man pulled away and I blinked at him. He chuckled. "Don't fear the future, or the night. I protect my own."

  He leaned down, but not for a kiss. His lips passed my face and pressed against the wound over the front of my throat. I winced at the stinging sensation of contact, but the pain wasn't as horrible as the agony I felt when he opened his jaws and bit into me. His teeth sank deep into my flesh, so deep that I wondered if he'd reached my wind pipe. I gasped when I felt his tongue flick out and stroke the deep wounds made by the other man.

  A burning sensation originated from my throat and swept over me. I squirmed and thrashed on the ground beneath him. Every limb, every molecule of my being felt as though it was on fire. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, allowing him to push his teeth and tongue deeper and harder into me.

  The pain sapped what little energy I had left. He pulled away from me and I could see his face was covered in my blood. The man lay my back on the hard, cold ground. I heard the distant call of police sirens as they approached our position. Backup. Randy must have worried when I didn't report in.

  The man stood and his shadow loomed over me. The light behind him hid all his features but his glowing eyes.

  "If you wish to live, don't seek me out," he warned me.

  He strode past me. I tilted my head and watched him sling the naked body slung over one shoulder. He walked past me and did the same with the other dead man. The stranger gave one last glance at me over his shoulder before he trudged down the alley in the direction I'd come. I couldn't move my head far enough to follow him past the intersection. He disappeared, but my solitary existence was short.

  Heavy boots raced up the alley and the light from multiple flashlights danced across the ground. Four of my fellow officers raced around the corner. They saw me and hurried over. One of them, a young officer named Baldwin, knelt beside me.

  "Jesus. . ." I heard him whisper.

  "She okay?" one of the others asked him.

  He shone his flashlight on my wound and shook his head. "I don't know, but we'd better call an ambulance ASAP." He turned his attention to my face and grasped my shoulder. "Hold still. Help's on the way," he promised. I opened my mouth to tell him about the man, but nothing would come out. "Save your strength," he insisted.

  My strength saved itself. My head grew woozy and the world spun around me.

  "Detective Selena? Stay with me! Don't fall asleep!" Baldwin yelled.

  I would have been to keep awake, but this time I couldn't help but disobey the commands of an officer. My eyes closed and I slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  CHAPTER 3