Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6)

by Faleena Hopkins

Xavier and Curragh exchanged a look, and then it dawned on them what the young wolf was doing. Within seconds the gurney’s legs were down and locked. They lifted Draik onto it and put a sheet over him, even his face. They looked around for anything they needed to take with them. Xavier grabbed a copy of Hemingway’s The Old Man And The Sea. Curragh grabbed his toothbrush.

  Then he remembered their contraption. It was too big to take with. He went to one of the tables, toppled the wood onto the floor and grabbed one of the trunk legs. Carrying it over, he smashed the contraption into thick metal shards and grabbed the processor, slipping it into his pocket as he turned on his heel. “We don’t need anyone knowing what we were doing.”

  “Maybe we can have another one made,” Xavier muttered.

  Curragh wasn’t optimistic. “Let’s go.”

  With one last look around, they left their home forever.

  Xavier and Howard wheeled Draik’s covered body into the back of the ambulance while Curragh stood by looking appropriately grim. They all climbed in. A young EMT stared from the rearview mirror, making sure all were locked in before he sped off for the hospital, sirens at high pitch.

  Curragh demanded, “Who’s he? How many wolves are in this fucking city?”

  Howard’s eyes were resolute. “Tahl is not from here. He’s from a few towns over. We were raised in the same pack when we were pups. I asked him to come and help us. I needed someone trustworthy, as you can imagine. He is.”

  Xavier said on a low exhale, “What’s the plan?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The ambulance turned a corner, then another. They kept their fast pace, but after awhile the siren was shut off. Swaying with the vehicle’s speed, the wolves said nothing. After some time, Tahl called back, “We’re not being followed. If they were watching your place, they bought that your friend is dead.”

  Howard reached inside one of the cabinets meant for medicine and supplies. He handed Xavier and Curragh two sets of EMT uniforms. “These are going to be a little tight, but it’s the best I could do.”

  They looked at him, then at each other and started disrobing. Howard wasn’t lying. To say the clothes were form fitting was an understatement. They balled up their jeans and shirts and handed them over to Howard’s outstretched hand. He put them in a bag and shoved it where the uniforms had been.

  “Hopefully they won’t look at your shoes.”

  “They?” Xavier asked from under a furrowed brow.

  “Anyone. If anything goes wrong.” Howard took out a piece of paper. “This is where you’re going. Detective Monaghan said this place is safe.” At the mention of Kara’s name, Curragh felt hot. So she agreed to help us. Howard called over to Tahl. “Okay, up here! On the right!”

  Tahl called back. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You told me five times already.”

  While he’d been focused on executing his plan Howard’s usual awkwardness had vanished, but at his childhood friend’s grumble it returned. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t realize I said it so much.”

  The car pulled over and he opened the door to get out. Tahl jumped out of the driver’s side.

  “What’s happening?”

  Howard blinked up at Xavier. “Oh! You’re taking it from here. Good luck!” He was about to shut the door when Curragh reached out and stopped him, holding it open with his strength.

  “How was Kara? What’d she say?”

  Nervously looking around, Howard told him, “She wasn’t happy about it. But she did it, so what more can you ask?”

  Curragh dropped his arm and the young wolf shut the door.

  The two packmates jumped into the front of the ambulance, Xavier at the wheel, Curragh ready to fight anyone who tried to stop them. “Let’s do this.”

  Through northern Chicago they drove. Neither said a word, both pairs of eyes locked on the side view mirrors. A black sedan stayed with them for six blocks. “Slow down,” Curragh instructed. After a while, the sedan went around. An old lady was driving. She threw them a dirty look that made both wolves start laughing.

  “Ironic,” Xavier chuckled, hitting the gas again.

  After a mile or so more, they were at the address given them. It belonged to a warehouse so large it spanned nearly an entire block. The place had no windows. Weeds framed the cement around it. It was deserted save for one car parked in a driveway meant for sixteen-wheel trucks. A twenty-foot-long metal garage door rolled slowly up and Kara waved them in. Curragh straightened in his seat.

  “Well, look at our welcome committee of one,” Xavier said with amusement.

  “Just pull in and keep your trap shut,” grumbled Curragh, glancing back to Draik. He hadn’t moved.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The area was so quiet she could hear the low rumble of the ambulance’s engine as it drove toward her and parked out front. With a rush of adrenaline, she went to the round chain lever and started twisting it, manually opening the garage door. Curragh’s friend Xavier pulled the ambulance in, but Kara’s eyes were locked on her reason for being here. As they jumped out of the cab he glanced over. “Hey.”

  Hey? Is that all he can say after this?

  Long strides brought him to the back door. Kara followed Curragh and was stricken by how damn good he looked in that white uniform. It hugged his muscles like he’d been born in it.

  “Thank you,” he muttered, glancing back.

  Her eyes flashed up from his ass. He paused then smirked at her.

  She stammered, “I couldn’t help it. That uniform—”

  “They didn’t have my size,” he chuckled. He threw open the door and wheeled out what appeared to be a dead body. Complete paradigm shift to her state of mind. She coughed, remembering the somberness of the situation. Dr. Peters had told her they were hiding his friend, along with some of the details of what had happened. And she knew from Curragh’s visit that his friend had nearly died, so she stepped back and put her lust away, feeling more than a little ashamed of herself.

  “How is he?”

  Xavier met her eyes. He looked exhausted. “Thanks to you, he’s going to make it.”

  She watched the two let down the gurney legs, lock them in place and roll him inside. Kara didn’t know what to do. She wished she hadn’t come. “I’ll close the door.”

  “I’ll get it. It’s too heavy for you,” Curragh announced with finality.

  Hackles ablaze she shot at him, “Excuse me. Who just opened the damn thing?”

  “Let her do it,” Xavier muttered. Both men looked around the dark abyss. “Besides dust, looks like nothing was ever here,” He pulled back the sheet and looked at his friend’s sleeping face.

  Kara had been heading for the door, but at the sight, she doubled back. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her hand floating to her mouth. “The Russians did this? Why? And why didn’t they kill him?”

  “To send a message,” Xavier muttered.

  “We don’t know why they didn’t finish the job,” Curragh added, his muscles tense.

  “Well,” Kara huffed, pushing her hair back from her forehead as she searched for reasons. “They left him on your doorstep and pretended not to torture him at your house. There’s something deep going on here that we’re not seeing.” At their looks, she stopped. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve been studying these guys, and they kill. They don’t just torture. Even with Katarina, they left her for dead.”

  “Katarina?” Xavier said.

  “The woman Curragh found.”

  No one had an answer. She walked closer to the gurney. He, like his buddies, was a beast of a man, but with all the cuts, wounds and patches of shorn scalp covered in squares of blood-soaked gauze, he looked frail.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Draik,” Curragh whispered, standing beside her. “He’s strong. He’ll survive this.”

  “Of course he’ll survive it!” Xavier grated. “But they won’t.”

  “Look,” Kara whispered, pulling a
t Curragh’s arm for him to follow her.

  He shook her off and headed for the looming garage door. “Before you give me your speech, let me shut this.”

  Annoyed at his tone, she waited with crossed arms and ignored Xavier’s watchful gaze coming from her right. As she watched Curragh grip the iron wheel and turn it, she started to forget what she wanted to say. That white polyester showed every muscle in his back, his ass and thighs, and those damn biceps were enormous as they did the heavy lifting. She felt warmth spread into her bloodstream. She blinked against the feelings and tried hard to remember.

  Curragh said, over his shoulder, “We can take the mattress off that thing. Give him some sort of cushion at least on this cement.” With the door closed the only light coming in was through small windows cut atop the wall of the east side of the building. Only that wall had them. He went to Kara and surprised the hell out of her by taking her hand. He ignored her shocked expression as he told Xavier. “Give us a minute.” His friend nodded and wheeled the gurney away.

  “Uh…what are you…” She trailed off as he led her to the ambulance and guided her inside, climbing in after her and shutting the door. He searched the metal cabinets and found a sheet. Bending over to avoid hitting his head on the roof, he strung the white fabric over the backs of the seats in the front cab, hiding them behind it. His ass in those fucking pants was enough for her to lose it completely. She gritted her teeth. He moved the little chairs out of the way, the ones designed for the EMTs and family to sit by the gurney.

  “We are not going to have sex in here when your friends are right outside.”

  “We’re not going to have sex.” Falling to his knees, the white uniform taut against his thigh muscles, Curragh kissed her hard. “We’re going to fuck,” he breathed against her lips.

  She moaned “Oh god,” as he palmed her breasts, rubbing his thumbs in tight circles around the nipples. He licked her lips and their kiss deepened until they moved together in perfect harmony. Gasping, she pulled away. “Why now? What are you doing?”

  His hard features had a quietness that sobered her. “You have to go. You can’t come back. It’s too dangerous for all of us. This is my way of saying goodbye. And thank you.”

  Pain twisted her chest cavity like her heart had vanished with the words. The emptiness was all encompassing and she slipped her arms around his neck to kiss him. “This is awful.” They swayed together as they gripped onto each other in a whole new way.

  He pulled her roughly onto his lap and pressed his erection against the crotch of her slacks, groaning into her ear, “I’m going to fuck you so you’ll never forget.”

  “You’re killing me,” she murmured into his neck. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her so hard her teeth cut into skin. Heat pooled out from her stomach as her body clenched with an ache for him to be inside her. Her phone chose that minute to vibrate and she gasped away from the kiss, panting, “Shit. I’m sorry. I have to get that.”

  The second she had it in her hand he grabbed it and tossed it aside. “Give me five minutes.”

  On a smile, she asked, “Is that all?”

  With his lips on her earlobe, he murmured, “I could get you off in one.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I’m drenched. I can feel it.” She gripped onto his thighs, locked eyes with him and said, “Careful of the buttons this time.”

  He pulled off her blazer, then slowly, one at a time, undid her buttons. “As you asked, princess.”

  She snorted, “I’m no princess.”

  “I know.” He snapped off her bra with a flick of his fingers and brought her naked breasts to his lips, licking them. Watching him do that rocketed pure need into her. She grabbed and held them up for him, which sent him into a tizzy. He clamped his hot mouth on her nipple, sucking it like he could get milk from it if he tried hard enough. She held his head and pushed the crotch of her slacks into his as hard as she could.

  “I need you,” she moaned. “And I need to answer that call.”

  Panting, he unzipped his pants and locked eyes with her. Kara fell into those pale green pools. He fumbled with his pants, yanked them out of the way and went to unzip hers.

  “Hold on!” she cried out. “Slowly. Slowly.”

  With his chest muscles heaving, he did as she asked. As soon as he got her naked, he grabbed her and brought her onto his lap again, positioning her over the dark red tip of his engorged length. She felt the smooth skin touching the outside and her whole body responded instantly.

  His eyelids fell halfway on a groan. “You’re dripping on me. I can’t wait.” Grabbing her hips, he rammed her down onto him, burying himself to the base of his shaft. They moaned together and he clamped onto her mouth with a hot kiss that almost hurt.

  Grabbing the back of her head, he matched the rhythm of his thrusts. All thoughts vanished. As she rode him and he moved in her, they kissed and grabbed onto each other, believing it was their last time. A rushing quake of power surged through her pussy and she cried out, throwing her head back as her body arched up. He grabbed her lower back and plunged into her, driving his hips upward as his whole body tightened. He grunted, gritting his teeth. The same pain she felt was reflected back to her from his irises.

  While the rush of climax subsided, Kara kissed his face all over. She hated that the phone was on her mind now. It had to be Mazzagatti, and she was supposed to be at the morgue. Here she was with Curragh still inside her and hated to have to tell him, but she had to...

  “I have to go.”

  He murmured, “I know,” his lips like feathers against her cheek. “Fuck.” He reached for her clothes and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She understood. It was easier to throw the wall up.

  When they got out of the ambulance, he helped her down. She’d long since let go of wondering what Xavier must think of her. It didn’t matter. He’d moved Draik to a far end of the room, behind cement columns and an enormous, horizontal water heater.

  Xavier called over, “At least this gives us some space if we ever get discovered. And there’s a bathroom with a working shower and toilet, so that’s good.”

  “Oh right,” Kara muttered, distracted. “I forgot to mention that.”

  Curragh frowned. “Home sweet home.” He turned to her and lifted Kara’s chin. His detached expression was back. It hurt her to see it, but she knew she looked exactly the same. “Thank you for your help. You put your job in danger.”

  Anxiety twisted her gut. “Don’t remind me. Give me your phone.” She keyed in her number. “Only use this for emergencies. But only for them.”

  He nodded and she turned away. Every footstep was pure agony. He opened the door. Both squinted at the sunlight, and neither looked at the other. When she got into her car, her key about to turn in the ignition, her eyelashes rose. He stood in the garage by the chain lever. He tipped his head in goodbye as the door began its descent, inch by inch until he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Monaghan! WHERE ARE YOU.”

  Kara had the phone on speaker, and Mazzagatti’s voice boomeranged around her CTS. It took her a moment to recover.

  “I…I had to go to the morgue.”

  “Like hell you did. I just talked to Strathers. You wanna try again?”

  Her throat went dry as she gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes on the road. “I had to grab a bite to eat after, but I was there. I didn’t see him either. I was with Dr. Peters. Like you told me.”

  “Peters isn’t there either,” the Captain’s deep voice grated.

  Kara blinked at the stop sign as she rolled through. Why isn’t Dr. Peters there? Did the Russians find out what he did? “We didn’t leave together. But I saw him. When I got there he showed me the broken leg, said it was broken from a fall, not a kick. I said it didn’t matter. Maybe he got pissed and left after? I don’t know!”

  The Captain was silent. Please believe me. God, please, please believe me. It was the story she and Dr. Peters had invented so tha
t their stories matched in case they got questioned. And it was true—she had been at the morgue. She should have checked in with the lead coroner to prove that, but it never occurred to her, what with being bombarded when she’d arrived, with the strangeness of Dr. Peter’s plan.

  Where is he??

  “Sir…is that why you called?”

  “No. Katarina Vidlova, the woman you found this morning, has been shot.”

  Kara pulled the car over so fast she left skid marks on the asphalt. “What?!”

  “The cop stationed outside her door went in and shot her right after Slater, Rodriguez, and Fisher left. He shot Dr. Matthews, too, then he took off.” His voice got heavier as he added, “They tried to save her. Save them both. They didn’t make it.”

  Kara stared at nothing. Realizing he was waiting for her to say something, she could only croak, “He wasn’t a real cop?”

  “He was. Deputy Reo. Been on the force for eight years. Turns out he was also working for the enemy. Just one more man Viktor Kruglov had under his thumb.”

  Kara couldn’t breathe. Her hand went to her throat as it constricted under the image of that poor helpless woman lying there, and the psychiatrist’s eyes going wide, her hand thrown out as the bullet whizzed toward her, taking away her future.

  “Monaghan! You there?”

  She couldn’t answer. Searching under her seat, she dug out a water bottle that still had a bit in the bottom. She sucked down the precious spare drops. “I…I never should have left.”

  “You were under direct orders to go. But had you…” he trailed off.

  “Had I what, sir?”

  “Nothing.” He let out a deeply discouraged exhale. “I was going to say had you not gone to eat, you would have been there. But that’s not true.”

  “It is true.”

  “No. He waited for the detectives to leave. You wouldn’t have known.”

  Kara knew that made sense, but emotions don’t sync with the mind. They’re dictated by the heart, and Kara knew in hers that she shouldn’t have been where she was, or doing what she was doing. The world around her began to spin as she realized the truth. She wasn’t as good as she thought she was. She wasn’t a good police officer. She wasn’t even a good person. She’d fucked a vigilante when she should have been shooting a rotten cop in the head.