Secret of the Wolf(40)

Dante huffed a sigh. This Preternatural Registration Act was a slippery slope. While he was uneasy about the uncertainty of the numbers of prets in their midst, he would never support forced microchipping.

He glanced at his watch. Almost six P.M. It had been a quiet day as far as new cases, which allowed him to get caught up on paperwork. He hadn't heard from Tori at all, aside from a quick text to say hello. He wondered if something was wrong. Perhaps he'd missed a cue that she was unhappy with how things had gone between them. Then he told himself to stop being such a girl about it. If she hadn't called, it probably meant she was busy and nothing more.

He knew that if he didn't hear from her soon, he was going to call her, damn it. He stood and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair. "See ya tomorrow," he said to the detective at the desk next to his.

"Have a good one," the man responded without looking up from his keyboard.

Dante left the building, the humidity slapping him in the face. God, he'd be glad when summer was over and they went back to more temperate weather. He unlocked his truck and climbed behind the wheel. Once he got it started he flipped the air conditioning to high and buckled himself in. He was partway home when his phone rang. He reached into his back pocket and brought the cell to his ear. "MacMillan."

"It's Tori." She sounded a little tired but that voice … it was enough to make his body tighten with anticipation.

"Hey, sweetheart." He exited the 101 loop freeway and made a right onto Shea Boulevard. "How'd your daywe betwee go?"

"Fine." She didn't sound so sure. "I'm actually still working, but I need to talk to you. Do you want to meet me at the Devil's Domain tonight for drinks?"

"Sure. Would you rather go someplace for dinner?" He flipped his right turn signal and drove onto his street. "Or you can come over to my place." Where there was plenty of food and a king-sized bed.

"I already ate something," she replied. "I really need to be around people tonight. Pick up some energy from the crowd. Is that okay?"

"Honey, whatever you need is fine by me." Dante could tell something was bothering her. "Tell me what's wrong."

Her sigh was heavy with dejection. "It's more than one thing, but to start … I don't know where Rand is. His bed wasn't slept in, and he hasn't returned any of my calls." She sighed again. "I'm worried about him."

Dante figured her douche bag of a brother could take care of himself, but he didn't like hearing the worry in Tori's voice. "He's probably out with friends."

"He's been here only a couple of weeks. He doesn't have any friends, at least none that he's talked about." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, we can talk about it tonight."

"All right. When do you want to meet?"

"Can you make it in an hour?"

He pulled into his driveway and in another few seconds stopped the truck in front of the house. An hour would give him time for a shower, a fresh change of clothes, and a bite to eat. "I'll see you around seven-thirty."

At seven-fifteen Dante pulled into the parking lot of the club, feeling human again after a cool shower and a quick hamburger and fries. Lily had tried to get him to eat a salad. Instead, he'd put some lettuce and a slice of tomato on his burger. His sister had not been impressed with his efforts at compromise.

He didn't see Tori's car when he shut off the ignition and climbed down from behind the wheel. He'd taken a few steps when he heard something off to his left. A click-clack that wasn't quite the heel of a shoe, but more like … He paused to listen. The sound stopped as well. He started walking again and the sound began once more.

In his years as a cop he'd learned to trust his gut, and right now it was telling him he was in trouble. He slowly reached beneath his jacket and thumbed the safety snap on his holster. He kept his breathing slow and even, and focused on his surroundings.

There were a dozen or so people at the front door waiting to get in. Another car pulled into the lot and parked a few aisles over from the one he was walking down. And the click-clack of what sounded like dog claws stayed with him.

Dante drew his gun slowly, keeping his hand under his jacket, and clicked off the safety. His only warning was a low, wet-sounding growl. He whirled, bringing his gun up. A snapping, snarling wolf, amber eyes glowing, gray fur standing upright at its scruff was already airborne. Dante went down beneath its weight, grunting when his body met the asphalt. He discharged his weapon. Once. Twice. Three times. Shouts and screams filled his ears. In the struggle, his hand got slammed to the pavement, and he lost his grip on the gun. It skittered out of reach. He fastened his fingers in the wolf's fur at its neck, trying to keep those snapping jaws from clamping down on his face.

The wolf-werewolf!-looked at him with intelligent hatred glowing in its eyes. The damned thing knew who he was. This wasn't a random attack. It shifted its weight, rocking back, dislodging Dante's grip for a moment.

And that moment was all it took.

Sharp teeth clamped onto Dante's shoulder, cutting through layers of clothing to bite through flete m">sh. Pain slashed deep. Dante yelled and balled up his fists to hit the wolf on the side of its head. The animal merely growled and tightened its jaws.

Dante groaned. Agony radiated from his shoulder downward. Bright spots floated at the edge of his vision. God, he couldn't black out now. This thing would eat him alive. Literally.

He began losing feeling in his right arm. He brought up his left fist and punched the werewolf's nose. It yipped and growled, but didn't loosen its hold. Dante struck it again, as hard as he could. He felt the wolf's hold loosen, just a bit, and he struggled to get his feet between him and this furry bastard. Another punch to the werewolf's nose shoved its head back.

Dante curled his fingers into the fur and the wolf's neck again, doing his best to hold it at bay. Just when he thought he was going to lose that battle, the wolf was knocked off him by another, smaller wolf. Dante rolled to his feet, darted over, and grabbed up his gun in his left hand and trained it on the two snarling animals in front of him.

The smaller wolf, mostly black with smatterings of brown, showed its teeth as a low, vicious-sounding growl rolled up from its chest. The gray wolf tried to stand its ground, but after a few more seconds its tail drooped between its legs and it scampered away.

The remaining wolf lifted its muzzle and sniffed the air, then turned toward Dante. He broadened his stance and kept his weapon trained on the animal.

The wolf sat on its haunches and gave a low whine, its amber gaze trained on Dante. A slight swish of its tail got his mind working. "Tori?" he asked.

Dante holstered his weapon, glad the department had had the foresight to budget for silver bullets. He'd stop complaining about not having a car provided by the city as long as they kept spending money on silver ammunition. His right shoulder was on fire. He winced in pain and put a hand to the wound, feeling hot, sticky blood coat his palm. "You should probably get outta here," he told the wolf.

She nodded and disappeared between two cars.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" A couple of burly guys ran up to him. "We called the cops."

"I am a cop, but thanks. The more the merrier." Dante leaned one hip against the nearest car. It was that or fall on his face. Attacked by a werewolf and saved by another one. All in a night's work.

"You should come inside," one of the men said. "In case that thing comes back." He paused and then asked, "You sure you're all right, man? You're bleedin'."

"I'm good, thanks." Dante was confident that Tori had chased the other wolf off, and he also needed to make sure the scene was preserved. He'd get medical help later. There was nothing that could be done for him now. If the werewolf had released any of its essence into Dante's bloodstream, Dante was looking at spending these final few hours as a human. He pulled his ID from his back pocket and showed it to them. "I need to make sure nothing gets disturbed." He looked at the men. "Would you guys be willing to stand up at that end and keep people from coming this way until the police get here?"

"Glad to do it." They walked off, talking animatedly, their voices excited at what they'd witnessed.

Dante changed position to park his rear on the hood of the car. In another minute or so he heard Tori call his name.

"Are you all right?" she asked, heading his way. She was dressed in a filmy blue dress that seemed to float around her calves as she hurried toward him. Her nostrils flared and she hurried her pace. "You're bleeding!"

"I'm fine." He looked a little closer. Seeing the sway of her breasts, he realized she didn't have a bra on.

She must have she akeeen where his gaze went, because she muttered, "I didn't have time to put all my clothes back on."

In just a few seconds she stood beside him and placed a hand against his cheek. "My God. When I saw him on top of you … " Her indrawn breath was shaky. "He could have killed you."





Tori drew another trembling breath and gently pulled Dante's shirt and jacket away from his shoulder. The wound wasn't as bad as it could have been; it had already stopped bleeding. But his flesh was mangled and would need stitches.

There were all kinds of scents here: fear and aggression, relief and dismay, the coppery tang of blood. And Rand, of course. Her brother's smell was all over Dante.