Chernobyl Werewolf, Team Greywolf Series, Book 2

by Eva Gordon

  He laughed. “I think it dates back to when the czars of Russia had food tasters to assure no poison.”

  She gave him a bemused smile. “I’m pretty sure the roll you just ate is not poisoned.”

  “Like I said, old custom.”

  Hungry, she enjoyed her meal, but by the looks of it, Lev had been even more famished. He made his rack of lamb disappear. She wiped her mouth. “So where is home?”

  “Montana.”

  “Really?”

  “Why so surprised?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because it’s cowboy or pioneer country. I thought you’d be more the New York type.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I’m like a pioneer.”

  Rachel could see him as an eighteen century Russian fur trapper or explorer, but could also imagine him hobnobbing in Manhattan as well. The sexy stubble on his face could go beard for mountain man or shaved gentleman for the opera. Ugh. Her brain turned to romantic mush. She killed the romance by talking about her work for Doctors Without Borders. He listened, not the least bit bored or intimidated by what he might perceive as a threat to his ego. “How exactly did you meet my father?”

  “He saved my life.”

  “You mean he performed a lifesaving surgery?”

  “Yes. If not for him, I would not be walking.”

  Good one, Howard. No wonder he’s beyond grateful. “Still doesn’t explain how you met.”

  “I was shot in the back, my spine severed and your father was the surgeon on call.”

  “Shot?” In battle, by a criminal, or by the police? She had a million questions. When she met his eyes to ask, she felt compelled to change the subject. “Sorry, I’m being too nosy.”

  “I enjoy your curiosity, but some matters are too delicate to discuss.”

  “I’m starting to realize Howard has plenty of secrets.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Have you ever seen those claw marks on my father’s arm?” Most of the time, he wore long sleeved shirts, but when he returned from a run, she saw them and asked. He’d given her some lame story about being attacked by a big guard dog. It made no sense. Dogs bite, not claw.

  Lev stiffened for a fraction of a second. “I imagine he might have been attacked by a wild beast. Perhaps a bear.”

  She snorted. “He said a dog, but honestly, the scars looked too deep and even perfectly aligned. Almost like a tattoo.”

  “If I ever run across your father, I’ll ask.”

  She poked at her fish as if combating her curiosity. “I guess you don’t travel in similar circles.”

  “We do not. During my recovery, Howard and I became friends. Don’t you ever meet former patients outside your circle of friends?”

  “Yes, but none of my patients travelled far and wide to offer me a gift.”

  His tone turned harsh. “I am grateful and owe him my life.”

  She flinched. “Yes, of course.” The way he spoke seemed over the top intense, as if confirming a vow. And even more unusual, her need to question him quelled.

  His voice softened. “Would you like dessert?”

  “No. I’m good.” The type of dessert she wanted was not on the menu, but on the porn channel. She glanced at her watch. “Actually, I should head back soon.”

  He signaled the waiter. “Check.”

  “Thank you so much for dinner. Are you sure you don’t want me to pitch in?” She took out her wallet.

  He laid a massive hand over hers. “No.” He handed the waiter his card.

  Rachel wanted the evening to last, but despite Lev being the man she’d fantasized about for the last few months, her father’s reaction to Lev’s unexpected visit didn’t bode well. At first, she assumed he was a player, a man who conquered all women in his wake. Love them and leave them. Her good senses also warned her something about him indicated danger. Feral. The master predator that waltzed in, alerting the herd animals of imminent danger. Her pulse compelled her to end the evening. Play it safe.

  Lev signed the bill and smiled. “Shall we enjoy the New Year’s festivities?”

  “I really should make sure the house is safe from big black wolves.”

  “Your house is okay, but if you prefer, I can cancel my hotel reservation and stay.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I offered to split the cost of the meal.”

  His face twisted in hurt. “Rachel, you don’t think I expect you to pay…?”

  She whispered despite the din of conversation. “No, of course not. It’s just I’m not the type of woman who…you know…goes to bed on the first date.” God help me, I am that type of girl with him.

  He laughed. “Of course. I understand. I just don’t want you to be alone after the break-in. I will treat you like—a sister.”

  Her heart clenched. Great. That’s all the dinner was, gratitude to her father for saving his life. “Most generous, but your hotel accommodations are probably much nicer.”

  “I made the hotel arrangements online, but I have not checked in yet.”

  “You haven’t?” Who arrives at a city and doesn’t check in first?

  “I wanted dinner first and now I wish to bring in the New Year with you.”

  “You do?”

  He took her hand and his warm lips kissed it. “Your amber eyes agree.” He gazed at her. “No argument.” He helped her with her coat and led her out. “Tonight, we bring in the New Year together and then I will walk you home. I won’t leave until I make sure no wolf is lurking about.”

  Every second he spent with Rachel made it harder for him to leave her. His wolf gained control every time he took in her sweet scent. Imagined the taste of her blood. Making her his. Tomorrow, he’d leave before she woke up. Before his wolf overpowered his promise to stay away and he lost his good senses. Truth was he didn’t want to spend the evening around a bunch of drunken New Year’s revelers. He preferred to bring her to his den, unpin her luscious hair and watch her locks cascade down her back. Remove her gown and gaze on her shapely breasts and soft slender curves. Yet, even a one-night stand proved too risky. If he dared make love to her, his wolf would break away from its tether and bite her soft nape. There'd be no escape for her. Taste Stallo’s blood and forever mark her as his. He could never reveal he was a werewolf, not without her signing the contract. Such a signature required two other werewolves. She would then be marked by each. Once she signed, she could never reveal their werewolf society. To do so, meant her death. Howard didn’t want their lifestyle and isolation for his daughter. Lev would honor his wish, even if it meant locking his wolf in an escape proof cage.

  Lev offered his arm, and Rachel took it. No alpha werewolf, or any other human woman, felt so good. Tonight, he’d enjoy Rachel, before leaving her forever. She’d return to practicing medicine, marry a human, and have a child not stained with mutant blood. A life with her kind.

  “Hey, don’t look so sullen.”

  He lifted a brow. “I look sullen?”

  “I should have said pre-occupied.”

  “My apologies. You are right. I was thinking of business, but no more.”

  Rachel smiled. A smile that made him feel like a lovesick pup. “Let’s head toward Jackson Square then.”

  “What is happening there?”

  “Maggie says it is the best party. Fireworks over the Mississippi.”

  “So why is your friend out of town?”

  “She’s been there, done that. Anyway, I have a feeling Jim plans on proposing.”

  He bowed. “Very well, be my guide.”

  Lev kept her at his side, only because he didn’t want to lose her in the crowds. Rachel, a fast walker, easily kept up with his long strides.

  Never had he been around such a big crowd of people. A loud band played. His sensitive eardrums threatened to burst.

  Rachel glanced at her watch and shouted. “Six minutes.”

  He winced. “Can’t wait.”

  She and the rest of the crowd clapped and sang along with the band. Anywhere i
n the world, even at the head of battle, would be less painful. Except Rachel. Even if tonight was their last night, it was worth the pain of the noise.

  A hooded man carrying a large backpack, the kind used to go on long camping hikes, headed toward the stage. The man squeezed and pushed through the crowd with rude determination. At the stage, he went below the stand.

  Near the stage, children danced to the music.

  Lev's hackles rose. Danger.

  He focused his super senses on the hooded man’s backpack. His nose picked up the scent of plastic. Bomb. Enough to kill thousands. The children. Rachel.

  Lev grabbed Rachel, gave her a quick possessive kiss, and then broke away.

  She called, “Wait.”

  He shoved people out of the way. The bomb must be timed to go off with the fireworks. Less than six minutes. No time to warn the crowd who would panic. Stampede. Crush men, women, and children in their path.

  The hooded man placed the backpack under the steps and slowly stepped away while the trumpet player did a solo and the crowd applauded. He clapped as if he too enjoyed the music.

  Lev slammed into him with enough force to knock him out, possibly kill him. He grabbed the backpack and dashed toward the river. He ran with enhanced werewolf speed. Faster than a racehorse in full stride. He heard the near silent ping of the countdown. Four minutes at most.

  Lev dove into the river and swam with powerful strokes. Away from the crowd and boats crowded in the water.

  He focused his powerful night vision and located deep waters. One more minute.

  No time to detonate it.

  He spotted a piece of granite on the river bottom and then dragged it on the device and swam away. The explosion went off, timed with the fireworks.

  The explosion rocked the area, sending Lev pummeling in its turbulent wake. Spinning. Blackness.

  In the chaos, Rachel remained numb. She searched with little hope Lev survived the explosion. The world seemed to have ended twenty minutes ago. As soon as the bomb exploded in the water, the fireworks stopped and people ran for their lives. The police cordoned off the area.

  She stared at the water. Boats overturned and some nearby buildings collapsed from the bomb’s destructive force. A few bystanders near the river were injured. But others closer to the explosion might not have been so lucky.

  After the kiss that left her breathless, she’d watched as Lev slammed against a man, and then grabbed the unattended backpack. Experience in foreign countries indicated, the man left a bomb. Lev ran faster than humanely possible and then dived into the Mississippi. Lev swam at such great speed a dolphin, came to mind. The blast, the only hint where he swam to.

  A hero. A dead hero. No one could survive the impact so close to the explosion.

  Despite the police blockade, she approached, hoping to see him swagger in. A smug grin on his face, saying something amusing, “In Russia, we throw trash in river.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Ma’am, you need to back away. There might be more explosives,” said an officer.

  Rachel snapped out of her daze. “I’m a doctor, I can help.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. Emergency workers are on their way. We need to clear the area.” He waved forward the police canine unit. The dogs sniffed for other possible bombs.

  The man, who Lev struck, appeared stunned and carried away in a squad car.

  “I know the man who sacrificed his life to save thousands,” she blurted. If there was any chance he survived, a search team may be able to find him.

  Another investigator overhead and stepped forward. “The big guy who grabbed the bomb and went into the river?”

  “Yes, how do you know?”

  “Several witnesses saw the Good Samaritan tackle the suspect and then jump in the river.” He pulled her aside. “You knew him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your name?”

  “Rachel Becker, MD.”

  “You work in New Orleans or here on vacation?”

  “I’m staying with a friend.”

  He took her address and phone number. “So who is this hero?”

  Rachel pressed her fingers against her temple, buying herself time. If Lev was some sort of spy, she didn’t want to blow his cover. “Lev. He saw me eating dinner alone and invited me to join him. After dinner, we walked here for the festivities.”

  “Last name?”

  Rachel knew Lev’s last name was Volkov, but she didn’t mention it. Not out of choice. Couldn’t say it, as if not able to. As if compelled not to. “I don’t think he said his last name. I only know he was here on business.”

  “What type of business?”

  Rachel thought it best not to say anything more about his work or that he’d been her father’s patient. Her tongue refused to say anything. “Not sure. Like I said, we only met and decided to hang out.”

  “I see.”

  “Please, you need to search for him. He might be hurt.”

  “Ma’am, no one could have survived the blast. Search dogs are being brought in to comb the area.”

  Rachel refused to accept his death. “He could have gotten away?”

  “It’s a remote possibility, but if he survived, the dogs will find him. Either way, he’ll be honored as a hero.” He gave her his card. “I’ll personally call you as soon as I know anything more.”

  Rachel clutched his card next to her heart and nodded. She should notify the hotel he might have been killed. Maybe go in and see if there was next of kin to notify. Yet, he never mentioned the exact hotel where he’d made reservations, only that was in the French Quarter. Shouldn’t be too difficult to locate. It would be the right thing to do. At least leave a message for his business contact. As a last resort, she’d contact Howard. He might know who to get a hold of.

  Rachel slowly walked home, turning around every few steps, hoping to see him wave to her. That he survived. She shook her head and sighed. Only wishful thinking. Who knew that one last possessive kiss would have been her last memory of Lev?

  Chapter 5

  Lev snapped out of unconsciousness and shifted to wolf form. He swam out of the murky waters and dragged himself onto the muddy shore. He shook the water off his fur. His hearing returned to normal, or rather above normal, even for a werewolf with already superior ears. Distant sirens blared. He flared his nose. Search dogs.

  He needed to get the hell out of there before the LIA got word of his whereabouts. Lev had no interest in explaining why he had stalked Rachel, his forbidden fruit. He hid in the bramble as search dogs eagerly sniffed. Too damn close. At least the scent hounds were off-lead. Easier to scare off.

  Two hounds approached him, whining as if trying to figure out what a wolf was doing in an area.

  Lev gave a low growl.

  The dogs yelped, tucked their tail between their legs and bolted in the opposite direction.

  Lev couldn’t check into his hotel naked or as a big black wolf. He had no choice. He must sneak into his rental vehicle parked in the hotel lot and grab fresh clothes. If anyone saw him, he’d compel them to forget. He would have done that with Rachel after he brought her home. However, the ticking bomb forced him to change his plans.

  He dashed through areas least populated with revelers. With all the festivities and commotion with the explosive, he entered the parking lot without notice and shifted to human form. Fortunately, the stench of the waters disappeared when he shifted.

  Lev opened his suitcase and hastily dressed behind the car.

  He checked in at the hotel. Reservations were under his alias, Max Jorvik. He would get some sleep and check out before dawn. Fly back to Montana and hope Rachel would forget him. Perhaps think he died in the explosion. Better that way.

  As he passed the bar, the television broadcasted news about the bomb near the fireworks show. He didn’t hang out for a drink, in case someone recognized him. Instead, he immediately entered his room. A king-size bed awaited him. A bed, he’d been tempted to share with Rachel. I have to stop t
hinking she’s mine. He grabbed the remote and turned on the news. He exhaled in relief. There were a few with life-threatening injuries, but only three deaths. Boats tossed and capsized. He had used all of his speed and strength to take the bomb as far away from boats as possible.

  Lev turned off the television and then took a long shower. The evening became a blur of Rachel. Rachel baking pizza. Rachel calling the police after seeing his wolf. Rachel in her black cocktail dress that revealed her luscious sexy body. Rachel’s aroma of desire wetting her panties. Rachel’s sweet mouth as he ravished her with his final kiss.

  His head pounded. Not from the explosion, but from the battle his wolf raged to claim Rachel.

  He stepped out of the shower and crashed into bed. Escaping his torn emotions in exhausted sleep.

  Rachel wiped tears from her eyes. From the way she mourned for Lev, anybody would think they were more than casual acquaintances, but lovers. She picked up her cell phone. Her father would want to know the details about how Lev died saving thousands. Perhaps, Howard would tell her more about the mysterious hero. Odd as it was, she decided to bury her resentment toward her father and practice medicine with him. Not an easy decision, but life was too short and she needed family more than ever. And he was all she had.

  Rachel bit her lip and hit speed dial. Instead of his voice or voice mail, an automated voice said, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

  “Huh?” Rachel sent him an email. After a few minutes, it bounced back. She huffed. “Figures.” He did his duty as a father when she nearly died of Ebola and nursed her back to health. Now he disappeared from her life again. End of her father and daughter dream of practicing in some clinic, for good. Time to sever her connection with Howard, and any clue about Lev as well.

  Rachel batted back tears. She hadn’t slept well for the last couple days, and remained glued to the news. The officer on scene never called her back with the status on their search for Lev. No John Doe. No body. Or rather body parts, yet.

  Only Maggie had called to make sure she was okay. Rachel told her what happened and how terrible she felt. Her mixed emotions pounded her head. Blaming herself for Lev’s most likely death, yet knowing if he hadn’t been there, hundreds might have died. Maggie said they were driving back. At least she could count on Maggie. Yet, if Howard turned on the news, he would call and make sure she was okay. These days any terrorist act upon Americans made global headlines. If he gave a rat’s ass about her.