Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct

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Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Page 8

by Brandi Broughton


  “Both men...?” He sat motionless, surprise clearly written across his face, but that expression soon changed to one of determination. His voice was cold and hard as steel. “When?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Hell no, I didn’t know.” His eyes locked on hers. “When?”

  “We got the call—”

  “When I was in your office,” he interrupted. “I saw the change in you, as if an iron curtain fell into place. So full of purpose and spirit...you were magnificent.” He stood abruptly, as if jolted by his own words, and started pacing. Mackenzie, however, collapsed against the back of her chair.

  “Where? How?”

  With the sun dropping below the horizon, its warmth receded. She watched steam rise from the heated pool and stared at the swirling ripples. Magnificent...

  “Mackenzie, where?”

  Shaken from her reverie, she looked up at him before answering. “His body was found in a park. He’d been mauled.”

  Rafe cursed. He paced like a caged animal. When he stopped and faced her, she recognized pain and fury in his haunted expression.

  “His family. Are they okay? Did you find them?”

  “They weren’t home. Cooper’s tracking them down now.”

  “Rafe?” Gabriel stood in the doorway. Unlike the last time she’d seen him, he’d discarded the white lab coat in favor of blue jeans, a green pull-over sweater and no shoes. He didn’t look at her, his focus remaining fixed on his brother. “What is it?”

  “Detective Lyons just informed me that another man I know was found dead today.”

  “Who?”

  “Shumaker.”

  “The one who...?”

  Rafe nodded.

  Gabe stepped onto the terrace and moved toward her. “Forgive me. Hello, Detective. It seems we’re always meeting under rather unpleasant circumstances.”

  She stood and shook his offered hand. As she released it, her cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” Stepping away, she flipped it open.

  “Lyons.” She listened to Cooper fill her in on the latest developments. “Uh huh. Is she...” She could feel questions forming in the minds of the two men who stood nearby, their stares prodding her back. “No. I’ll go. It’ll take me a while. I’m...not on that side of town, but—No, I said, I’ll take it. You keep checking those other leads. Okay. Later.” The phone snapped shut.

  She was tired. The sun had set, and tonight would prove to be another long night. Mackenzie took a deep breath and turned. “I have to go.”

  “Tell me.” Rafe’s command was soft but competed with an engine’s rumble that made Mackenzie look toward the front of the house.

  “It’s police business. I’ll need you to come in later for further questioning. Excuse me, I’ll see myself out.”

  She headed through the house, keeping an eye out for the wolf. She could hear Rafe’s footsteps shadow her own. As she reached the front door, his arm appeared over her right shoulder, while his hand prevented her from opening it.

  “You’re not going anywhere until—”

  For a split second, panic raced through her system, and the cop took over. Stepping to her left, she spun with her gun in her hand. “Step aside, now.”

  A movement to her right made her realize just how outnumbered she was. Gabriel stood at the corner of her periphery, muscles tensed. Rafe leaned against the door, arms and ankles crossed, yet his eyes shone with an alertness that contradicted his pose of nonchalance. She kept the gun aimed at his chest.

  “Mackenzie, is all this really necessary?” he asked.

  “I said, move. Now.”

  “Tell me.” Rafe held his hand palm out toward his brother, who’d inched forward.

  A crash ricocheted through the entrance hall as the housekeeper dropped a vase. Mackenzie’s gaze bounced to the shattered crystal and flowers.

  That was all Rafe needed. Before she could react, he had her wrist caught in a vise, the gun pointed at the ceiling, and her back pinned to the wall.

  He squeezed her wrist, and she fought to hang on to the gun. He increased the pressure.

  “Aaah!” Her grip gave way, and the firearm fell into the waiting hands of Rafe’s brother. “Son of a bitch.”

  She struggled but only managed to insinuate herself more firmly between a rock hard male and an inflexible surface. The heated length of his body pressed against her, lifting her onto her toes. His hips wedged between her legs, a position that sent a different sort of panic through her bloodstream.

  Then she felt the soft, soothing stroke of his thumb on her wrist. She looked at his face. The storm of concern and passion she saw reflected in his eyes puzzled her.

  Mackenzie heard the front door open and tried to see past his expansive shoulders.

  “Well hell, it seems I missed all the fun.” The deep drawl of a third man’s voice made Mackenzie shiver. “Or is this show just now starting?”

  “Tell me, damn it.” Rafe’s words were a hot whisper in her ear.

  “Coop found Shumaker’s wife.”

  Rafe released her so quickly she almost slid down the wall.

  “Where?”

  She rubbed her wrist and gave him her best go-to-hell look before glancing at their audience. Gabriel still held her gun, lowered toward the floor, his finger not even on the trigger.

  The new arrival was a fashion model for Bikers-R-Us. He wore black leather pants, heavy boots, and a dark muscle shirt. One hand held a full-face helmet with a streaked design of red on black. The other held a leather jacket draped over his shoulder. His midnight hair was long and tied back, revealing a diamond in one ear lobe.

  “Who are you?” she asked the man with a howling wolf tattoo on his bicep.

  Rafe answered, “That’s my other brother.”

  Her gaze ran the full length of the brother’s six-foot-plus frame, then she looked at Gabriel. “That’s the runt?”

  “Gabe...” As if his fierce gaze wasn’t enough, the newcomer’s snarl promised retribution.

  “Not now,” Rafe warned before telling Mackenzie, “His name is Lucian.”

  “What? Your mom run out of angelic names?”

  “I have been known to answer to Lucifer.” Lucian leaned against the closed door and sent her a grin that would make the devil proud.

  She didn’t feel threatened so much as outnumbered and aggravated at herself for overreacting and letting Rafe get the best of her. If she still had her firearm, she might’ve been able to handle the three-to-one odds, but without it....

  “Mackenzie,” Rafe said, drawing her attention away from his smirking brother. “Where’s Shumaker’s wife?”

  She glared at him. “She’s in the hospital.”

  Chapter Six

  A stout nurse in pastel hospital scrubs looked up from a clipboard, her wispy bangs falling into her eyes. “Yes?”

  “Emily Shumaker’s room?”

  “I’m sorry. Visiting hours are over.”

  Mackenzie slapped her badge on the counter of the hospital’s nursing station.

  “I’m not here for a visit. This is police business. Her room number, please.”

  “Is there some trouble, officer?” A frown formed on her face, but then her expression changed from concern to surprise as she glanced over Mackenzie’s shoulder.

  Rafael’s voice was silky confidence. “It’s very important that Detective Lyons speak with the patient, if Mrs. Shumaker is capable of taking visitors.”

  “Oh, Mr. Stone. I didn’t realize...” She pointed down the hall. “Her room is fourth door on the right.”

  Mackenzie dropped her hands beneath the counter’s edge and fisted them until her short nails bit into her palms.

  “Thank you,” he said with a smile. “Is her doctor here?”

  “No, sir. His shift ended a while ago.”

  “You’ll want to inform the doctor on call then. Tell him we’re here. I’m afraid we have some troubling news. I’m sure he’ll want to check on her shortly.”


  “Right away.” The nurse frowned but picked up the phone.

  Grumbling about arrogant goliaths in Armani suits, Mackenzie stalked down the hall in the direction the nurse indicated. When she heard Stone’s chuckle behind her, she asked, “What did you do? Donate a million to their memorial fund, or does everyone you meet just naturally jump to please you?”

  “Not everyone. I’m on the board of trustees, and I donated two, not one.”

  She stopped to gape at him. “Million? No, wait. Don’t answer that. Of course, million.” She scowled at him. “Next time, try to remember you’re a civilian, and no matter how much money you have in the bank, this is police business. I can handle it.”

  “Progress.”

  “What?”

  “You concede there will be a ‘next time’.”

  “Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. She was already breaking every rule in the law enforcement manual, and some that weren’t even written, by letting him accompany her to the hospital. What choice had he left her? He’d demanded to come along and if she refused, he promised to wait for her at the hospital, since his helicopter could get him there long before she could drive back to the city.

  So she’d agreed and tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing. Any contact he had with the victim’s family should be monitored, she’d told herself. Watching him interact with the family could provide some much-needed clues.

  Now he was talking about ‘next time’?

  Arriving at the door, she took a deep breath and faced the man behind her. “If it weren’t for this case, there wouldn’t be a ‘this time’. You’re a suspect, and right now, you’re at the top of my short list. Remember that before you even think of a ‘next time’.”

  She pushed open the door before he could comment. At least he’d given her gun back. His disarming her still irked, and she didn’t like him thinking she needed his help to do her job.

  Emily Shumaker lay on the hospital bed, her body forming a slender lump down the center. Her red hair, spread in disarray, was a flaming contrast to the white pillow. She hung up the phone when she saw Mackenzie walk through the door. Her gaze immediately fell to the badge clipped at Mackenzie’s waist.

  “Oh, God. You’re here because of Carl, aren’t you?” Her voice was weak, shaky. Tears formed on her lower lashes. “I’ve been trying all day to reach him, calling home, his cell phone. I knew something was wrong.”

  “Mrs. Shumaker.”

  “He wouldn’t miss the baby’s birth. He wouldn’t, not unless something was wrong. Oh, God...”

  Mackenzie let her ramble, understanding the woman’s need to postpone the inevitable words. She felt her own insides churn at having to tell another wife that her husband would never be coming home.

  “Please, tell me he’s okay. He’s just hurt somewhere. In a hospital, right? That’s why he couldn’t be here. But he’ll be okay. Right? Please...”

  Mackenzie shook her head slowly. “I’m so sorry. Carl’s dead.”

  “Oh, God!” She closed her eyes, her already tired body wracked with sobs. “He’ll never know...oh, God...He didn’t want to know...before the birth. He said he liked surprises. He’ll never know now...never s-see his daughter.”

  Mackenzie jerked when a warm hand gently gripped her shoulder. Rafael gave her a sympathetic glance before moving toward the woman on the bed.

  “Emily.” He held her hand between his.

  “Oh, Mr. Stone...” Her eyes suddenly widened, and fear replaced the sorrow.

  Mackenzie moved to the opposite side of the bed, watching Rafe closely.

  “What am I going to do now? I don’t have a job. Carl always worked.” She wiped tears from her face and shook her head frantically. Her voice sounded panicky as she began to ramble. “I found his pink slip. We fought last night. He’d never have done it. Not if he hadn’t been so worried about the children and me. He thought he could win. And then he...I’m so sorry, Mr. Stone. But he...”

  “It’s all right, Emily. Calm down. You won’t have to worry about anything. I doubt the paperwork’s been finalized.” Mackenzie scrutinized him as he easily lied to the widow of a former employee. “His benefits are still in place. You and the kids will be taken care of. I’ll make sure of it. Can you trust me to do that for you?”

  Emily laid her other hand on top of his and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you. I’m so sorry. I told him he should go to you. He wasn’t like that, you know. It wasn’t like him at all. He was just so scared. I was so angry with him last night, but I...I s-still love him. This m-morning, he hugged me.” Tears fell again in wet curtains over her cheeks. Rafe handed her some tissue.

  After a while, she continued. “He said he’d take care of it. He’d find a way. He just needed more time...needed to think. He always thinks well when he runs, you know? But he’s been so distracted lately. I feared he’d jog out in front of a car or something.” She glanced at Mackenzie, her voice weaker, sadder. “Where was the accident? He didn’t suffer, did he? I-I wouldn’t want him to suffer.”

  Mackenzie’s eyes met Rafe’s and held for a long, frozen moment before she dropped her gaze to Emily. “It wasn’t an accident, Mrs. Shumaker.”

  Emily scowled and sniffled. “What do you mean?”

  “He was murdered.”

  “No!” She yanked her hands away from Rafe’s and covered her face. “No. No. No...”

  The door opening drew Mackenzie’s attention as the doctor on call walked in.

  Taking one look at the patient, he asked angrily, “What is going on here?”

  Rafe exchanged a look with Mackenzie before he asked to speak with the doctor outside. When the door closed, she tried to calm the distraught woman, but Mrs. Schumaker curled up and cried. Realizing that she needed time to mourn more than an interrogation, Mackenzie left.

  Thirty minutes later, she walked out of the hospital, still shadowed by the tall, dark man who left her with more questions than answers. His treatment of the victim’s widow was admirable, inconsistent with the merciless violence the killer showed the victim. Was it all for show, or was the sincerity she’d glimpsed in his eyes real?

  To save time, she’d agreed to take his helicopter into the city, so Rafe had ordered her car driven to the hospital. The sedan now sat next to his limousine, like a rusty mobile home next to a million-dollar mansion.

  Why would a man with that much wealth seek his own justice against a man probably living paycheck to paycheck? When he could’ve just as easily charged the man with a crime and let the courts handle it? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make the motive stick.

  “When was the last time you ate something, Detective?”

  “Today.” She faced him, knowing he read the weariness she felt despite her attempt to hide it. “Sometime...earlier...I don’t know.”

  He stepped closer. Too close.

  “Don’t.”

  “What? Be concerned about you?” He stroked her cheek, a warm brush of flesh, soft as a whisper. “Too late. I already see how much that takes out of you, telling a person she lost a loved one. You could’ve let your partner do it, but you didn’t.”

  “I’m the lead. It’s my case, my job.”

  He shook his head. “You care. You feel—”

  “I feel tired. It’s been a long day. I’ve got to go.” But her feet wouldn’t move. She stared into the caramel depths of his eyes and tried to ignore the heat spreading through her body, sparked by his continued caress. “This isn’t going to happen.”

  “Too late.” His lips pressed gently against hers, a tender kiss that sent shockwaves slamming into her heart. He pulled away on a sigh, his other hand joining the first to cradle her face. “Sleep well, Detective.”

  She stood stunned, trying to gather her thoughts—any thought—as she watched him disappear into the limousine.

  “That’s a daring way to say goodbye to a cop who wants to put you behind bars.” Lucian’s drawl held a hint of warning, punctuated by the sound of
the shutting car door.

  He should’ve known Lucian would be nearby. He’d been unable to give Rafe his report earlier, since the topic of his investigation was present. “The detective wants to put a killer behind bars, not me.”

  Lucian turned from watching the detective disappear in the distance and narrowed his eyes on him. “And you think she’ll distinguish between pulling the trigger and ordering it done?”

  “I didn’t order those men killed.”

  “That’s beside the point, and you know it. What the hell do you call the Lykos Institute? Maybe you should go on the next mission—pull that trigger yourself—to recall what happens out there when we go after rogues. I don’t just slap ‘em on the damn wrist.”

  Rafe’s anger boiled at the accusation. “Be careful, Luc. I know well the reasons for L.I.”

  “You know, and yet you risk it all over a human woman?”

  Rafe poured himself a brandy, saw his brother already held a perspiring beer bottle, and leaned against the limo’s back seat.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve found out about her and let me decide how much is at risk?”

  “Born in California. Mother moved her to Chicago after her father died in a mountain lion attack. Made the paper. Article said the family was camping with others in the Sierra Nevadas. Father and daughter went hiking while the rest went fishing. Jeremy Lyons bled to death trying to get his daughter back to camp. She was hurt but survived. They started the search when the two hadn’t returned by dinnertime. Didn’t find her until late into the night.”

  Lucian drained his bottle of beer before continuing. “You think with a childhood experience like that, she’ll be willing to strike up a relationship with a Lycan? To accept our existence without shouting it from the rooftops?”

  As his brother’s words sank in, Rafael stared out the window at the passing city streets, not really seeing anything. He thought of how she’d nearly pulled her gun on Gabe earlier today, how she had pulled a gun on him. He remembered the fear Gabe said she experienced at the wildlife exhibit.

 

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