THE WOLF
IN THE WHITE HOUSE
A Sexy & Thrilling Werewolf Romance!
BONNIE BURROWS
Copyright ©2017 by Bonnie Burrows
All rights reserved.
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About This Book
Maci Brown was a Secret Service agent who had the responsibility of protecting the president at all costs.
So when she learned that a mysterious member of the White House named Logan Noble was involved in an assassination plot she knew she had to think fast.
However, not everything was as it seemed.
Logan Noble was a man who had the ability to transform into a handsome grey wolf. He was working deep undercover to protect the White House from a threat that was bigger than anything they had ever seen before.
Could Maci and her wolf-friend beat the odds and save the president before it was too late? Or could their undeniable attraction to each other prove to be a fatal distraction?
This is a sexy but thrilling paranormal romance that should appeal to men and women equally. Download now to start reading this EPIC new novel.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
Maci Brown stepped out of her government-issued SUV, looking down at her smartphone and furrowing her brow at the message on the screen. The sender was anonymous, but the message was clear.
Someone on the inside was planning on going after President Johnson during the annual State of the Union address, and her job had just gotten ten times harder.
She texted back, asking the anonymous sender for more information—at least a description of the perpetrator—but her text was returned with a claim of “invalid recipient number.”
“Great,” she said out loud, her tone dark.
She double-checked her service revolver and the backup piece in her ankle holster before readjusting her smart, black pantsuit and pressing the button to arm her SUV. The sound echoed in the underground parking garage, and she shook her head and smirked over the need to alarm her vehicle in the super-secret garage beneath the Lincoln Memorial. She stepped onto the small elevator that served the garage, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration as she rode it up.
She’d known President Johnson most of her life; he had lived next door to Maci and her family since they were both young. One of the youngest presidents in history, Archer Johnson was just thirty-six, three years older than Maci. Despite the age difference, they’d been fast friends, exploring the neighborhood together during the long summers. Archer had always marched to the beat of his own drum, and today was no different. But this time, his need to deviate from the norm was a logistical nightmare.
Rather than the standard location of the State of the Union, Archer had decided that the steps of the Lincoln Memorial would be most fitting to share the news of the achievements of the past year.
At least he decided to have it during the day, she thought, not that it was much consolation. Even though the address had been pushed back almost two months from its traditional January slot, it was March in DC and still chilly at times. Bulky coats made it easier to get through without being caught, and because of the added threat, the Secret Service was out in full force.
Even after being counseled by Maci about the safety issues, President Johnson had chosen the Lincoln Memorial, only inviting a handful of reporters and attendees, despite Maci’s insistence that the Capitol building would be the safest choice for his address.
“Trust me, Maci,” he had said after she’d tried to convince him once again. “It’s going to be alright.”
Maci had rolled her eyes then.
“You appointed me as one of the first members of the new Secret Service Elite because you trust me. Archer, I’m telling you, this is a bad idea.”
But he had shrugged off her concerns, frustrating her as he had when they were younger, and treating her like an annoying little sister rather than a member of the select few chosen to protect the President from threats from all sides, including inside jobs. When the Secret Service failed, SS Elite stepped in and saved the day.
He was making her job hard.
She stepped off the elevator, waiting for the door to close behind her before she opened the outer door. She stepped out of the door label Electric Room, coming out near the restrooms and turning to go down the hall. Chad Hardwick caught her eye and nodded from where he stood not far from the press. They were already set up and waiting for the President to arrive. Maci didn’t acknowledge Chad, irritated that he had made such an obvious gesture toward her. He hadn’t been on the job long, and Maci was sure that he wasn’t going to last long. Chad Hardwick didn’t give Maci the impression that he was any good at keeping secrets.
Part of what made the SS Elite effective was that no one knew about them. Chad was the only Elite agent that Maci was personally aware of, though she knew there were at least ten more on the payroll. The regular SS agents weren’t even aware that the Elite existed, and most of the Elite agents didn’t know each other. They melted into the crowd, strategically positioned to avert disaster if, and only if, they were needed.
Maci picked her spot in the crowd, pulling out a device that looked like an audio recording device that was really a long-range stun gun. One of Maci’s favorite job perks was the Hollywood-esque assortment of secret agent toys she had at her disposal. This stun gun had dual modes: a contact stun gun that she could administer from arm’s length, and a long-range, cordless barb that could be fired up to twenty feet with stunning accuracy. She was close enough to where the President would be to take out any insider who might be thinking about assassination, without putting anyone else at risk.
There was a murmur in the crowd and some movement near the base of the steps. Maci stood quietly scanning the crowd while everyone else was focused on President Johnson, who was making his way to the stairs, then up to the top of the stairs, to stand so that the statue of Lincoln would be behind him. She had to admit that Archer had a flair for the dramatic.
Maci continued watching the people who were watching the President as they slowly moved up the stairs in a giant herd, stopping several yards away when the Secret Service agents held up their hands to let the group know that they had gone far enough.
Maci looked at each face, reading the expressions in an instant, then moving on. She saw nothing in the faces that concerned her. Next, she turned her attention to the people around the President. The Vice President was noticeably absent, but so were a lot of politicians that would normally be present. There wasn’t nearly as much room here as ther
e was on the Senate floor. Maci had a feeling that was another reason Archer had chosen to run this the way he was. He was a man of the people, the first Independent in history to win the popular vote by a landslide. Archer Johnson didn’t care about tradition, and he certainly didn’t care about political decorum.
There were six SS agents around the President: two on each side, one in front but out of the way of the cameras, and one behind. The agent closest to the President caught her eye. He was calm and collected, his sunglasses hiding his eyes and his face set in the practiced frown that all SS wore when on duty. His hair was dark brown, only slightly darker than the other agents, and he was several inches taller with thicker muscles. But it wasn’t his stature that had caught her attention. He was watching the President instead of the crowd.
And he was watching the other agents.
Maci moved forward, her eyes trained on the agent, carefully moving on the outer edges of the crowd so that she didn’t draw attention to herself. She had her stun gun out, holding it out as if it was an audio recorder and moving forward with it pointed at the SS agent.
She could see his hand, normally held in front of his body in the military “at ease” pose, slowly working its way back toward his holster. Maci stepped forward, and the SS agent that was positioned in the front of the crowd held his arm out to stop her just as President Johnson started to speak.
“Ma’am, that is far enough,” he said, his hand out, ready to grab her.
“Rumpelstiltskin was a hero,” she said quietly.
The man stepped out of her way instantly, following her gaze and putting his hand on his holster, just in case.
Maci kept moving, her eyes on the target, ready to act. The man was still focused on the President, and now Maci was sure that the man was reaching for a weapon. Her finger slid close to the button that would deploy the barb, ready to let it fly. She took another step, and this time, the SS agent turned and looked at her. When he saw her moving forward, the recorder held out, he scowled in confusion. Then his eyes met the eyes of the agent behind her, and realization dawned on him.
He turned to look at the President, then back at Maci, his hand moving the last few inches to the holster. Maci hit the button, and the barb deployed, flying through the air between them and hitting the man in the neck. There was a sizzle and a crack, and the man dropped his revolver, then stumbled to the floor.
The remaining Secret Service members went into action, whisking Archer away as Maci and Chad ran to the man that was already on his hands and knees, trying to get up and get his gun. Maci kicked the gun to Chad, who picked it up and held onto it while Maci dealt with the downed man.
“How are you up?” she asked, kicking his arms out from under him and sending him sprawling to the cold concrete. “You should be out.”
“You’ve made a mistake,” the man said, breathing hard, the barb protruding from his neck. “A horrible mistake.”
“Looks to me like I got the right guy,” she said softly.
The agent that had tried to stop her earlier rushed forward, handing her a pair of metal cuffs.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Are you Elite?” he asked softly, clearly impressed with what had gone down.
“Thank you for your help,” she said without answering his question.
She knelt down and cuffed the man tightly behind his back. The man was still trying to get up, but the hundred thousand volts had rendered him nearly immobile. Too bad he wasn’t unconscious or close to it, like he should have been.
“Chad, can you help me take him to the SUV?” she asked. She looked at the SS agent and smiled, her hazel eyes shining as she turned on the charm. “I need the crowd kept back. We can’t let all the secrets out in one day.”
The man nodded, turning around and readying himself for any journalist that might be willing to push the boundaries to get a good story. Chad tucked the extra firearm in his waistband and helped Maci haul the man to his feet.
“Since you can walk, let’s go,” she said, shoving him forward.
The man stumbled but stayed upright. Chad and Maci half-dragged, half-pushed the man to the hallway where the restrooms were.
“Are you taking me to the bathrooms for a reason?” the man asked, chuckling.
“You have the right to remain silent, for now. How about you exercise that right and shut up,” Chad said, looking at Maci with a satisfied smirk.
Maci rolled her eyes inwardly but kept her face passive. Chad knew just as well as she did that the Miranda Rights didn’t extend to potential assassins and their interrogation by SS Elite, but the people liked to believe that they did. He was probably putting on a show for anyone who was lingering in the hallway, but Maci was sure that he was actually doing it for her benefit. She sighed. She wasn’t even remotely interested, and Chad’s constant attention made things uncomfortable. It was like they had some sort of shared secret, but Maci just wanted him to follow protocol. And that meant not broadcasting the fact that he was SSE to anyone else.
It didn’t seem that hard, but Chad apparently had a big mouth.
She turned the corner, going into the little recess area by the restrooms where the janitor’s closet was hidden out of sight. She waved a thin, platinum bracelet on her wrist over the door handle of the Electric Room door, and the automatic lock disengaged with a barely audible click sound. Chad opened the door, and the three of them went in, letting the door shut behind them.
Maci had her hand wrapped around the front of the man’s belt and trousers over his hip, ignoring how hot his skin was against her knuckles as she dragged him toward the door that was labeled with a high voltage warning.
“Are you shoving me into the breaker box or something?” he asked, showing the only signs of nervousness he had since she had first taken him down. “I’m not sure that is the quick death you’re looking for.”
“Do you know how to shut up?” she asked tersely, pulling the door back after opening it with a swipe of her wrist again.
“How did you do that?” he asked. “Is there a chip in that bracelet?”
She ignored him, pushing him onto the elevator and getting on after him. Chad squeezed himself into the elevator, and the door closed behind them.
“It was clever, hiding an elevator behind a door that said high voltage. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an elevator that looked like a giant breaker box. Very impressive. I wonder if people would be shocked to find that the Lincoln Memorial houses so many secrets.”
“Are you threatening to share state secrets now?” Maci asked, arching one delicate eyebrow to mock him. “You won’t be getting out of prison anytime in the near future, if you ever get out. I think you’ll be too old to remember what you saw here to tell anyone.”
The man shrugged.
“They may know by then,” he said, walking docilely with them when the doors opened to the underground parking structure. “Ah,” he said. “This is why the basement is off-limits to visitors. There is no basement.”
“I’m over here,” Maci said, though her car was the only one parked in the ten-car structure. “Toss him in the backseat, and I’ll take him to the Hole.”
“Do you need any help?” Chad offered.
“No,” she said, almost too quickly. “I’m taking him there for questioning. There will be someone to help me unload him on the way, and I’ll have a prisoner’s cage between me and him.”
She disarmed the doors, pushing her prisoner against the SUV and pinning him. Chad rushed forward, patting the man down while Maci held him, going through his pockets and checking anywhere else the man could be hiding a weapon.
“Clear,” Chad said after flipping through the man’s wallet.
He opened the door and shoved the man in with Maci’s help, closing the door after making sure that the child locks were engaged, rendering the inside door handles completely useless.
After the man was in the SUV, Chad stood there for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something,
then thinking better of it. Maci was glad he had decided to keep his mouth shut. Between the would-be assassin and Chad, she was done with pointless banter and was looking forward to the quick drive down Sixteenth Street to the secret interrogation and holding facility. It was where every attempted assassin, terrorist, and any other enemy of the country was taken to be thoroughly questioned before being transferred elsewhere.
“I’ve got this,” she said, closing the back door and opening her own door to get in.
“That was amazing,” Chad said, holding her door open so that he could talk to her for a moment. “You were on fire.”
“Chad. I’m still working. I have to go before the effects of the stun wear off.”
“Gotcha,” Chad said, stepping back and letting her shut the door.
He said something, but she couldn’t hear him through the bulletproof glass.
She sighed when she pulled out of the parking garage, exiting at street level between a pair of perfectly kept bushes that hid the solid gate that protected the garage from view. Unless you were right on top of it, the gate looked like part of the cement structure. Even upon closer inspection, few would guess they were looking at a secret underground garage. It wasn’t the only secret that the Lincoln Memorial held, but even Maci wasn’t privy to all the secrets Washington had to offer.
“Man, that guy is annoying, right?” the man said from the back.
“We’ll talk at the Hole. Enjoy the ride. It’s going to be a while before you see daylight again.”
He chuckled from the back seat.
“You are a total badass,” he said. “And you look good doing it.”
“Stop trying to butter me up,” she said. “I’m not letting you go. You tried to kill the President.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“That wasn’t the real President.”
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