by Ava Walsh
The two were ignoring Claire at this point, but she just rolled her eyes as she slipped through the ebony doors. Roland was on his feet when she went in, as though he was expecting her, even though Claire hadn't seen Adam call him to let him know she was coming. He smiled broadly at her, his eyes sweeping down her body. Claire couldn't suppress the blush that stained her cheeks, but she forced herself to breathe evenly. As much as she'd like Roland to ravage her on his desk–was it made of pink ivory?–she wasn't here to give into her sexual desires. The opposite, in fact.
I'm a grown ass woman and my hormones don't control me.
"Detective Doyle. Have you found Melissa's killer?"
Claire shook her head. "Not yet, I'm afraid. We are pursuing some promising leads, though. I'm actually here because of this."
She placed the jewelry box on his desk. Roland's brow furrowed and he glanced up at her quickly, peering at her ears. Was he checking to see if they were pierced?
"I can't accept any sort of gift during an open investigation," she explained. "They're lovely, but you can see how it might be misconstrued as a bribe."
Roland winced and drew the box to his side of the desk. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about your investigation. But if you can't accept a gift, then perhaps you and I could go to dinner sometime?"
Claire wanted to accept–who wouldn't?–but shook her head. "You are still connected to an open investigation. I'm afraid that would not be a good idea."
There was also the fact that a woman who worked for him and who he had openly admitted he was sleeping with had just been murdered. That had to take a toll on a guy, even if he claimed that he didn't have any sort of deep feelings for Clarkson. He was probably only looking for rebound sex. Or whatever the equivalent of rebound sex was in this situation. Claire wasn't a one-and-done kind of girl. Although after the case was done, she might just have to make an exception to her rule if Roland was still interested.
"Of course." Roland looked disappointed but nodded his understanding. "Perhaps there is a way around that, though?"
Claire raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I have arranged for my staff to attend a wake for Melissa at my house soon. Everybody who was at my last party will be there. Perhaps you could come to meet some more of the people who knew her?"
It was dangerously gray area, but Claire considered the offer. It would offer a great low-key way to get to know Melissa's coworkers, and find out if there were any sort of interpersonal problems that they wouldn't tell the uniforms who questioned them. If there was alcohol to loosen their tongues, it would be even better. It would probably be best to leave Grace behind, though. Two detectives at the wake would be far too obvious.
"I would love that. Thank you."
He nodded, his gaze softening. His eyes darted towards her mouth but didn't linger. "I look forward to seeing you there."
Chapter Three
Perhaps he should have invited more of the human women who worked for him.
Roland stood on a balcony overlooking the ballroom where Melissa's wake was taking place. A picture of Melissa was set up at one end, with flowers and candles around it. There were dozens of cards, and paper for writing letters. It had been Adam's idea to invite everybody to write their goodbyes to Melissa and put them in a sealed box to be buried with her. Roland had written his own letter, surprisingly long, and a tightness he hadn't realized had been squeezing his heart had eased.
Being able to say goodbye to his packmate was cathartic, and made him realize that she wouldn't have held a grudge against him for pursuing Claire, which he fully intended to do.
What he really didn't like were the number of men who Claire was talking to. He understood it was part of her investigation. Hell, if the glances the other wolves in his pack had shot him when the detective approached them were any indication, they knew that he'd take them down if they tried anything inappropriate with her. Or maybe they were just wondering why he was allowing her to question them like suspects.
They're not, he told himself. None of my pack would ever harm Melissa. Not even Brian.
The wolf in question was the one speaking with Claire at the moment. He was the newest member of the pack, and ten years Roland's senior. He had been turned two years ago when he attempted to break into Roland's house on the night of the full moon. If it had been any wolf other than Adam who had found him, Brian would have been dead, but as Beta, Adam had enough control that he didn't outright kill the human. He just bit him, turning him into a werewolf as well.
Brian was not Roland's favorite person, but he was business-savvy, and as long as Roland kept an eye on him, he stayed away from less-than-legal activities. He was also a werewolf, part of the pack, and Roland would watch out for him.
Right now he seemed to be trying to charm Claire. They were too far away to hear, but Roland saw the wolf casually leaning towards her, flexing his arms to make them appear more muscular, all the while keeping his eyes on her face. The wolf in Roland growled, wanting to go down there and perhaps break a few bones in Brian's face.
"You haven't stopped looking at her since she walked in."
Roland turned, irritation etched on his face.
His Beta ducked his head. "I'm just saying. I know you cared about Melissa, but you didn't love her. If you're looking for a reason not to go down there and sweep the detective off her feet, Mel isn't it."
Roland let out an annoyed huff. "What exactly are you saying, Adam?"
"With that tone, you think I'm going to say what's on my mind?" Adam arched an eyebrow and shook his head. "Thanks, but I like my nose straight."
He was the only one who Roland could tolerate this level of insubordination from. Even among the human workers in his various companies, he was considered to be a hard ass. He expected things to be done right and on time, and didn't hide his displeasure if things didn't go the way they were supposed to, or if his instructions were ignored.
"Just say what you mean to say before I break your pretty face."
Adam's lips twitched. Roland could see he was about to make a comment about the Alpha calling him pretty, but a quick growl had him rethinking. He held out his hands and fell back a step.
"You're attracted to her. Every time she's near I can smell the wolf on you. I don't know much about mates, but isn't it possible that your wolf has zoned in on her?"
Roland stiffened.
"You're not getting any younger. If you feel like your wolf is trying to claim her, why don't you take her to a nice dinner, get her to bed, and, if she's still what you want in the morning, tell her everything? If she's meant to be your mate, she'll stick by your side. And if she's not, hopefully you’ll at least get some good sex from it before she commits you to the looney bin."
Roland had to work hard not to swing at his Beta. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles strained against his skin. After several moments of deep breathing, he forced his tense muscles to relax. The Wolves below had noticed his tense stance and were glancing up at him while gathering together. Brian had abandoned his talk with Claire, hurrying to the other side of the room while keeping an eye on Roland, expression anxious.
"If you ever insinuate that Claire is only good for a one-night stand again, I will break your face," the Alpha growled under his breath.
Adam bowed his head, taking a step back in submission. "I'm just saying, there's a chance that your wolf wants her for your mate."
"Not going to happen." Roland shook his head. The anger clawing at his throat eased a little. "She's not a werewolf, and I'm not going to turn her into one just so she can pop out my babies."
"Does she have to be a werewolf to be your mate?"
Roland sent him a black glare before heading down into the ballroom. It was time to begin the farewells to Melissa.
***
His bedroom was still a crime scene. Roland was already there after Melissa's send-off before he remembered. He stopped outside the door, staring at the yellow
tape and sighed, turning around. He had been sleeping in the guest house for the two weeks since the murder. It wasn't as nice as his mansion, but he preferred that over living in a hotel.
It was the new moon, and with the property lights turned down, he could see every star in the sky. Roland took a deep breath of the cool air. The days of the new moon were when his wolf was at its weakest, and he could barely scent the traces of the humans, who had all left.
All but one. He caught her chocolate scent, and tore his gaze from the sky to find Claire walking towards him. She had worn a fitted black dress for the wake. A deep V-neck accentuated her cleavage and the twisting on the bodice emphasized the intake of her waist and the flare of her hips. Her neck was bare, although she wore a cheap watch on her left wrist. Well, it was probably expensive on her salary.
Roland had to stop himself from drooling. In the darkness, everything about her was more emphasized. Her scent. The glow of her pale skin. Her halo of curls. Even with his wolf submerged so deep, he felt it growl with pleasure as it looked at her.
"My car won't start and my phone is dead," she said, wrinkling her nose in the most adorable way he'd ever seen. "Can I use your phone to call a cab?"
"You can stay here overnight," Roland offered at once.
He immediately was taken aback by his own offer. If she stayed, then one thing would lead to another… perhaps he should just let her borrow one of his cars. It'd be best if they got to know each other before they ended up in bed together. That way it wouldn't be over between them in the morning.
He'd had casual flings in the past, and of course there had been Melissa, but looking into Claire's eyes he wanted something more. Something deeper.
Shit. Adam's right. I want her for life.
"I… like that idea more than I should," Claire said, licking her lips.
He stared at the two plump bows, red as raspberries. Everything about her was edible, and Roland wanted to eat her up. If the way her eyes kept flickering to his mouth meant anything, she was feeling the same way. He stepped closer to her, twisting one of her curls around his finger.
"Because I'm connected to an open investigation?" He was surprised at how low and husky his voice was.
"Yeah." Claire swallowed. He could almost hear her heart thumping. "And because I don't think you're asking me to stay for an innocent slumber party."
He stared into her eyes. "I'm not."
She moved so swiftly that it surprised him. Her mouth was on his, filling him with the taste of chocolate and raspberries. Roland's eyes widened, but his wolf howled just as it howled at the moon and he grasped her, pulling her closer, parting her lips with his. Their bodies pressed flush against together, heat building with every touch.
"We can't," she gasped suddenly, pulling away. "You're not a suspect so there's nothing actually against the rules about it, but I'm still investigating the murder of the woman you were sleeping with. After the case is closed will be fine, but right now… it's just too complicated. We have to stop."
Roland actually growled. His whole body felt tight, and he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Claire squealed in protest.
"Put me down! You'll hurt yourself."
"I won't hurt myself. And as for stopping… it's too late for the two of us." He pressed her back against the wall. With a moan, Claire tangled her hands in his hair and pressed her full, raspberry lips against his, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.
Roland gladly returned the gesture, his wolf howling with delight.
"Okay," Claire gasped as he moved to kiss her neck. "I'll stay the night. But you'd better make me waffles tomorrow."
"Waffles," Roland agreed, carrying her towards the guesthouse. "And bacon and eggs. Anything you want."
Chapter Four
Claire groaned, pacing back and forth as her laptop loaded. It was the middle of the night, but her stomach was cramping so badly that she couldn’t sleep. She had taken some of the medicine her doctor prescribed for her period cramps. It was just starting to kick in, but in the meantime she thought she might as well work a little on the case to take her mind off the pain.
There was a new email from the ME in her inbox, and Claire settled down, rubbing her tender stomach. These cramps weren't as bad as the ones she usually had during her period, but they still felt like she had been kicked in the ovaries. She briefly glanced at her other emails. Most could wait, but one from Roland caught her eye. They had been emailing and texting regularly ever since the night of Melissa's wake.
Claire's cheeks flushed, remembering the night she had spent with him. She had caught herself off guard, kissing him so fiercely. The night had been explosive, magical even. She wasn't usually the type to set herself up for a one night stand, but she had felt no regrets at all at tearing off Roland's clothes and devouring him. And it wasn't really a one night stand, was it? After all, they were in regular contact, and even if she was too busy for coffee or dinner, Roland was still insisting that they go out when they both had an evening to spare.
She opened the ME's email, saving Roland's for later. A frown crossed her face as she read. The tox screen for Melissa's blood had just come back. High levels of adrenaline and cortisol, expected from the stress of being attacked and beaten.
There were also high concentrations of mifepristone and misoprostol in her blood. They were drugs used for abortions, but there was no evidence that she had been pregnant recently. There was nothing to account for these drugs.
Claire winced as a cramp shot through her stomach, but breathed through it. Roland had outright said that he was sleeping with Melissa. It was possible that she had gotten pregnant and then gotten an abortion, but the ME had specifically said there was no indication she had been pregnant recently. There was no reason for her to be taking the drugs. Even if she had been pregnant, the doses were far too high: so high they were enough to kill her.
"Was she purposely taking the drugs to make sure she didn't get pregnant?" Claire's brow furrowed. She stood again, pacing as her cramps intensified. Walking helped to ease them somewhat. "Birth control would be less dangerous and more effective."
She glanced at the clock. Great. It was 4:30 in the morning and she hadn't slept the whole night. Claire dragged a hand through her hair. If she left now, it would be at least 6:00 before she got out to Roland's house to confront him with this new information.
"Can't go by myself," she muttered, needing to fill the silence of her home. "If I talk to Roland, maybe Grace can speak with Adam at the same time."
The head of security didn't seem to like her much. Claire didn’t know why, and she didn’t really care. All she knew was that Grace got a lot more information out of him than she did. Quickly dialing the younger detective, she left a message to meet her at Roland's mansion as soon as she could, then headed out. She could at least take another look at the crime scene, and see if there was anything she had missed.
She kept the windows down as she drove. The night was bright, the full moon hanging heavy in the sky, but the air was cool and helped to ease her cramps. Her foot might have been a little heavy on the gas, because she arrived at Roland's mansion half an hour earlier than she had intended.
Claire mentally shrugged as she got out of the car. She had keys to the mansion and the crime scene. Roland had told the department that nobody was living in the mansion until all this was sorted out, so it wasn't like she would be disturbing anybody if she took another look around.
Before she reached the front door of the mansion, a bone-tingling howl pierced through the still, dark air.
Claire froze. Under the light of the moon, she could see everything around her clearly. She had never paid much attention to the grounds before, as she had always been fascinated by the huge white mansion, paired with the cozy guest house several yards away. The grounds were smooth and perfectly manicured, bright green like a golf course. But just beyond the lawn were trees.
In the day, they looked weary, old even. They were cedars
with drooping branches and curtains of scaly leaves hanging down. In the night, they looked downright threatening. Claire shivered.
"Just a dog," she muttered.
The howl sounded again. It was closer this time, and a second answered it, then a third and fourth, more howls joining in until it sounded like an orchestra, all in perfect harmony. The sound echoed around Claire, making her shudder. Wolves? She was always a city girl–the one time her parents took her camping as a child, they'd packed up and left in the middle of the night because she had got scared and cold.
When the howls faded away, Claire let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Maybe it would be better to lay down in her car for a little bit, to try to get some rest.
As she stepped off the porch, a movement at the forest edge caught her eye. Something huge exited the trees. Was it a bear? Claire narrowed her eyes, peering at it. No, it wasn't shaped right for a bear. One of the wolves she had heard? But it was standing, like a man. Could Roland be out hunting in the middle of the night?
The creature dropped to all fours and bolted across the yard at her. Adrenaline surged. Claire rushed back to her car, heart in her throat. She slammed the door behind her and stuck the key into the ignition.
The creature was on the porch now. In a single bound, it leaped across the remaining space and landed with a solid thump on the hood of her car. Claire's eyes widened. The thing was humanoid in shape, with a barrel-like chest, thick, banded arms and thighs the size of tree trunks. Yellow eyes glared out of a wolfish face, teeth pulled back in a snarl. The whole car seemed to vibrate with its growls.
A sharp-clawed hand curled into a first and smashed against the windshield. Claire screamed, hands shaking so badly she almost couldn't turn the key. The engine roared to life and the headlights flickered on. A dozen more creatures like the one on her car were at the edge of the yard now, snapping and snarling.