Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series

by Eva Gordon

  Lev stepped out of his car and into the moist drizzle. The aroma of rich soil and volatile oils from the trees emanated a healthy smell. Different from his home. The Red Forest of Chernobyl, one of the most radioactive areas in the world. Such a place was not meant for living creatures. He was the exception.

  His smile wavered. He should have at least texted Becker.

  Lev had promised Becker if he walked again, he’d bring him the best Russian vodka and a special Russian souvenir for him. Becker had said if Lev was ever well enough to visit Moscow to bring him back an authentic samovar. Lev spent good cash on a rare red bronze imperial samovar. If something was wrong, a welcomed surprise might lighten his mood. Certainly, the vodka would. He opened his trunk and took out the samovar packed in the case and then grabbed the bottle.

  As he closed the trunk, an irresistible aromatic scent embedded with the sweetest blood he’d ever smelled overwhelmed his senses. He inhaled. Intoxicating. The sweet delicate floral scent of snowdrop bulbs as if the flowers emerged from winter snow, bringing the bloom of spring into the winter of his cold senses.

  The glorious aroma was human, female, and coming from Dr. Becker’s home. He narrowed his eyes and sniffed for Becker. The doctor’s scent permeated the area, but not currently home. Odd. The female was. Had he broken up with Selene? That would explain his sudden need for isolation. A pissed off jealous she-wolf would drive away even the bravest werewolf. But Becker was human so that might explain suddenly abandoning his critical research. No. Selene would not break Lycan law and harm him. She’d get over it or be delivered to the enforcer for discipline.

  A desire to release his wolf and stalk the female overwhelmed him, but nonetheless he remained in control of the big bear-sized Chernobyl wolf.

  Lev straightened his black leather jacket and rang the doorbell.

  No one answered. He should return later, after calling Becker. That would be polite, yet his wolf was bewitched. Whoever lay in wait inside the house belonged to him. Lev shook his head. Not possible. He would never take a mate. A lover, perhaps, but nobody long term. Certainly, not a weak human. And not one in a relationship with the doctor who saved his life.

  The woman might not be Becker’s lover, but a patient. As sweet as her blood smelled, the blood had a residual corruption as if she’d been poisoned.

  I’m such an idiot. Of course. His daughter. That would explain the blood type so addictive to wolves. Becker had confided his daughter had Stallo’s blood type and like the Enforcer’s mate, was human, but with the ability to have Lycan children of superior blood. Too bad. Becker didn’t want his daughter ever involved with werewolves. He respected their kind, his daughter should live in human society to practice medicine, marry and someday start a family. Lev understood. Life amongst lycans was a cultural hardship for humans. Strict pack status rules placed humans below omegas. Pets. Because Dr. Becker had saved many werewolves during combat and contributed so much to werewolf genetics research, he’d been given beta status.

  The soft shuffle of feet reached the entrance. The female.

  He swore and turned to leave when the door opened.

  “Can I help you?”

  Lev turned and gaped. The woman, in her twenties, dressed in a light wool robe over baggy pajamas looked up at him with enchanting jeweled amber eyes that matched her golden blonde curls, messily ponytailed on the side. Much too thin. Despite her disheveled look, perhaps after a debilitating illness, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Krasivaya, dusha-devitsa. He whispered the translation. “Beautiful, pretty maiden.”

  She met his eyes and gazed. Entranced. Not moving, not speaking, not reacting. As if she was a mesmerist’s victim, she waited for his next command.

  Such beautiful eyes. The color of expensive Baltic amber. Lev could drown in them and die happy.

  She tilted her head, exposing her carotid artery. Teasing his wolf to sink his fangs into her soft throat. The pretty maiden desired him.

  Lev shook his head. What was he thinking? He’d unknowingly rendered her mute with his alpha magnetism. All werewolves had some mind control over humans, but his ability was superior to even the most gifted of alpha werewolves. He’d promised Team Greywolf he’d never mesmerize humans, unless necessary and then only in a life and death situation. And never to submit to his sexual desires.

  Lev released her mind and snapped his fingers to distract her momentarily from meeting his gaze.

  She pressed her hand against the forehead and shook her head. “I’m sorry I just zoned out.” Even her voice played like music to his ears. Her accent was from the West Coast of America.

  “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I expected Dr. Howard Becker.”

  “And you are?”

  “Lev Volkov, a former patient.”

  “Really? Howard said he no longer practiced medicine. Not since working for some research center.”

  She didn’t call him father. Odd, she smelled related to him. “Ah, he’s a friend or uncle then?”

  “Howard, no, he’d my biological father.”

  His body tensed. Lev still mourned his beloved father and couldn’t imagine such a lack of respect. Only in America did one call one’s parent by their name. Then again, he was told she’d been raised by her mom and stepfather. Why should he rationalize her insolence?

  Damn. Something about her kept Lev enthralled. Her blood of course. He needed to get the hell out of here, before his wolf took the maiden for his. “His daughter…”

  “Rachel.” She tightened her robe as if suddenly embarrassed about her comfortable sloppiness. How easy it would be for him to shred her robe and take in her nakedness.

  “I brought him a gift from Russia.” He picked up the box and handed her the bottle of vodka.

  “Thank you.” Rachel took it, but narrowed a glance at the box. “Open it before I let you bring it inside.”

  Good for her, a suspicious woman. “Certainly.” He slowly knelt as if she had a gun pointed at him and opened the crate. Not that shooting him would hurt. Normal bullets wouldn’t kill him. He unwrapped it and lifted the samovar as he stood, allowing her a close inspection.

  Her eyes brightened. “Beautiful, my grandmother had a samovar, but nothing like this. Please, bring it in.”

  His wolf stirred, but he collared the beast back to the den. His reaction was only biological, because of her blood, nothing more. He should leave before he betrayed the man who saved his life by doing things to his daughter no father would approve of. He scanned the living room cluttered with books. “I’ll put it by the fireplace.”

  “That’ll work.”

  Lev set it down. “I must go now.”

  “I’m sure Howard will want to see you. Does he have your number?”

  “Yes, don’t worry. I’ll contact him.”

  “He went to the hardware store. I’m sure he’ll be back in thirty minutes or less if you want to wait. There is fresh brewed coffee or if you prefer tea.” She held onto the counter as if dizzy.

  My alpha aura? No, you egotistical bastard, she’s recovering from an illness. Now close to her, he understood. Rachel’s immune system was weak as if it had just battled a fierce illness.

  One more minute with her and he’d have no control over his moonstruck and now concerned wolf, who wished to cuddle her next to his warmth. If he bit her, she’d benefit from the special healing properties of his werewolf saliva. Compared to other alpha werewolves, Becker discovered his saliva was exceptional in destroying dangerous microbes. Fool! “No. Thank you. I must go.”

  Rachel’s eyes lit up as if she figured out he wanted to hold her in his arms until she healed and then ravish her once her health restored. “I’m no longer contagious. That is, if Howard told you.”

  Huh? He wished he could tell her werewolves didn’t get human diseases with the exception of rabies, which killed them quickly. “No worries. Rest.”

  “Will do. Howard will kill me if he knew I came down to answer the door.”


  “Goodbye, Rachel.” He turned to tear himself from the beguiling attractive woman, and let himself out. Later, he’d call and invite Becker to a nice restaurant. If the good doctor ever called him back.

  As he closed the door, he heard the crash of the most expensive bottle of vodka money could buy shattering on the floor.

  “Rachel!”

  Rachel lay on the soft leather sofa with a blanket over her and blinked. She stared at the mysterious exceptionally handsome hunk of a man who had come to see Howard. The towering dark-haired muscular Russian sat on the floor next to her. His massive hand held hers as if she was a sleeping princess and he the prince. Her heart pinged in pleasure. Traitor. She jerked her hand away and tried to sit. “What the hell?”

  He gently pushed her back. “You fainted.”

  Suddenly, everything came back. His unusual expensive gift for her father and—the shattered glass. “Oh shit, I broke the bottle.”

  “No worries. I’ll clean the mess.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Nonsense. You are sick. I should have not disturbed you.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Not long, four minutes or less. Shall I bring you water?”

  Rachel nodded. He had to be the most striking man she’d ever met. A handsome face, not the pretty boy type without stubble, but with the rugged façade of a warrior bent on conquering. The hot Russian had slicked his thick raven hair back which enhanced his blue eyes, reminding her of the color of polar ice water. His rich deep Russian accent made her swoon, compelling her to tell him to stay and keep her company. In her travels she’d met quite a few Russian medical staff, but none as delicious. If the Soviet Union still existed, she’d peg him out as some KGB agent. A Russian James Bond-version who could seduce women and even men into revealing state secrets. At well over six foot five or six inches with broad shoulders, a man’s man, and a woman’s ideal caveman, he exuded raw testosterone.

  A man who could go from gentleman to feral in a heartbeat. A predator. One who could bring down not just one mammoth, but the entire freakin’ herd. Yet, he obviously was human enough to have vulnerabilities since her father had saved him. Howard travelled quite a bit, so he probably worked on him in Russia. Or had he? Howard had always been away from her and her mother. A workaholic father who missed her piano recitals, science fairs and so much more. What if he’d been a spy and had to stay away to keep her safe? One of her childhood fantasies about why he abandoned her. Maybe this mysterious man was his colleague.

  He returned with a glass of water for her. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll leave now, but first call your father so he knows to come home.”

  She drank half of the glass of water. “No. I’m fine. I just won’t move until he returns.”

  “Then I’ll wait.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Being in the company of a lovely lady is not something I question.”

  Swooning again. Damn, he’s just being polite. “Never mind. Howard must not have told you about me, but then again, he went to great efforts to keep my name out of the news.” Good old dad must have strong government connections. Only the CIA could cover up what happened.

  “No, we haven’t spoken in months. I’ve been in Moscow for two weeks selling my penthouse. I’m now moving to United States and wanted to make sure all was well with him.”

  Penthouse. He must be one of those filthy rich Russian tycoons. The kind that bought up real estate in Manhattan and London. No matter how rich why would he want to leave Mother Russia? Maybe he fell in love with an American woman or had a business here. For some stupid reason, the idea he had a girlfriend or a wife bothered her. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but some men never did or took it off when away from home. “For work or love?”

  “Work.” He cocked his head. “Why would you have been on the news?”

  His deep glance compelled her to open like a book and tell him everything, even after everyone had been sworn to secrecy about her case. “I’m a physician, and I work for Doctors without Borders. I contracted Ebola in West Africa.”

  His brows furrowed in concern. “The outbreak in Liberia?”

  “Actually, I worked there, but that’s not where I contracted it. I flew to Nigeria with a team to help a small village battling Ebola. After three weeks, we pretty much had it contained. Who knew we would be in even greater danger. The Boko Horam came in looking for young girls. They held the village hostage, murdered dozens, including some of our doctors and took our protective gear. They drove off with me and five preteen girls. I told them the girls had all been exposed and two began showing the symptoms.” She snorted. “Thanks to some clean blood serum I had in my kit.”

  “You made it look like they had Ebola?” His smile broadened as if pleased with her deception in fooling the terrorists.

  “Yep. The girls might have been exposed, but we quarantined the symptomatic ones from the rest. We prevented the children from getting Ebola. I figured if I made them look sick, I could save their lives from a horrible fate. The Boko Horam militants got scared, especially when I started shivering from fever. Not faked. Apparently, I had contracted it earlier. They left us in the middle of nowhere to die. The girls wanted to help me, but I told them to stay away. They did. The army came in and found us. Fortunately, the girls remained free of Ebola. I was flown to Bethesda, Maryland and kept in their containment center. I almost died. Once I was no longer contagious, Howard had a rich buddy of his fly me back on a private plane to Portland until I could get back on my feet.”

  “That explains Dr. Becker’s absence,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d actually flown to Africa after our rescue. The man who disappeared from my life after the divorce stayed at my side the entire time.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Mom and step-dad were killed in car crash a year ago.” Why am I telling this complete stranger my story? As if this handsome man oozed truth serum through my blood. To think she tried contacting Howard before the funeral. It was as though he’d disappeared from the face of the world. He’d only found out recently and had begged for forgiveness. On what she thought had been her deathbed, she forgave him for missing her mother’s funeral.

  “Sorry.”

  “My last home was with a boyfriend I broke up with five months ago, so I didn’t really have any other place to go.” She bit her lip. Why can’t I shut my mouth?

  Lev frowned and pressed his thick thumb over her lower lip, then as quickly released it. “Will you make a full recovery?”

  “My liver has improved, but now it’s just the fatigue. I lost twenty pounds. I’ve gained five back. I hope to return to normal soon.”

  His voice grew stern. “I forbid you to go back.”

  Rachel frowned. “Excuse me?” Maybe due to his limited understanding of the English language he confused the word “forbid” with “should not.” He didn’t mean to be bossy or did he?

  “The risk is too great.”

  “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m not allowed to anyway. I have a price on my head.”

  He narrowed his eyes and stared into nothing as if angered that someone would want her dead. He turned to her. “Good, we agree. There are plenty of hospitals here that will hire you.”

  “No, we don’t agree. To be honest, I’m not sure what my plans are, but I’m not working for some bureaucracy.” Who the hell does this macho dominant man think he was telling her what to do? And why did part of her feel compelled to obey him? Just because he was the hottest all-man hunk she’d ever met didn’t mean she should be so freakin’ submissive. And yet if he asked her to get on her knees and pleasure him, she’d obey.

  Lev took her hand and gazed into her eyes with those feral gray-blue eyes. “You are a brave woman.” His warm lips gently kissed her cold hand, warming her heart and feminine parts kept dormant for much too long. Her panties shamelessly soaked from being in his pr
esence. Heck, even her nipples pressed against her layered clothing, tingling in anticipation of his lips licking, biting, sucking. Geez, Ebola must have damaged my brain.

  Why did she want this enigmatic, much too dominant, strange man? Not her type. Sure, she fantasized about brawny guys with Greek god bodies, but for long term she favored older brainy guys. Equal outside and inside the bedroom. A man like him went after hot super models. No, most likely strippers. Yet, he moved to kiss her. Apparently, he didn’t care one least bit she had been an Ebola patient, or that she wore pajamas and looked gaunt. Not to mention her lack of makeup and displaying the mother of all bad hair days. Her thick blonde curls probably made her look like Goldilocks and Medusa’s love child.

  Howard’s car pulled up just at the moment Lev’s mouth almost made contact with hers. Lev stood and backed away as if worried she might still be contagious, or that she was the farmer’s daughter and dad was coming in with a shotgun. He straightened his black leather coat. “Your father is here.”

  Boy was he off about what Howard was like. “Umm. Good. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Howard had not been around to catch her making out on the couch as a teenager. Her stepfather had been there for that teen scene. He’d taken her first boyfriend, Steve to another room and had the treat-my-daughter-with-respect-or-else talk.

  The door opened, and Howard glared at Lev. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Rachel had only seen her father look worried during her bout with Ebola. But never this pissed off. What was Howard thinking?

  Her heart raced. Oh, shit. Had Lev been paid to bring her back to Africa? The militant who thought she would have died vowed to behead her on hearing she, and the girls had survived. No. Lev made her feel safe. She was being paranoid. And so was Howard. “Chill, he brought you a gift.”

  Howard lowered his gaze as if Lev had some leverage over him. As if he was some freakin’ king who required obedience and respect. Yeah, I had felt that too. “You should have called first.”