Code Wolf. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
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thought prudent under the circumstances.
Adrenaline still pumped through her body from the fight she had put up. In spite of regaining some strength, her shivering had doubled, leaving her longing for the kind of warmth she had been temporarily offered by the nameless, shirtless man who’d come to her rescue on a cold night.
A guardian angel was the way she’d think of her rescuer from now on...except maybe for the few seconds when his lips had traveled over her face. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Had he wanted a special kind of thank-you for helping her? Should that have left her feeling further abused and icky?
Used to looking inside events in search of deeper meaning, Riley wondered what the guy might have been searching for in such an intimate touch. It seemed to her at the time that he had been seeking a way under her skin to get a look at the real Riley Price, not the professional cover-up artist she had become. She didn’t need another shrink to try to analyze that idea because the absurdity wasn’t lost on her.
If she were to perform self-analysis, her interest in this rescuer had been caused by a latent sense of loneliness, of being alone in a big city, and so far from home. That, along with a healthy suspicion that she might actually have met a real live superhero tonight.
Unfortunately, as a mental health professional, she realized there was more to it than either of those things.
That man’s touch had left her feeling exposed and excited, and sorry there hadn’t been more excitement, all at the same time. She had wished for adventure and it had smacked her on the head a bit too hard.
One little kiss that wasn’t actually a real kiss at all, from an anonymous man, and the memory of how that had felt, was keeping her pulse on warp speed.
Nope. There was no way she could mention much about her rescuer to these cops and come out unscathed. Something in her voice would give away her interest if she mentioned him out loud. The creep who had attacked her was now in custody, she was okay, and that was that.
Statement, check.
Witness form, check.
Perhaps an interview at the police station would follow in the next day or two, and life would go on.
Crowds had gathered on the sidewalk and in the street, lured by the presence of cops like insects to a bright light. Riley tried to find the officer who’d seemed to know her rescuer as the cruiser pulled away from the curb, but had lost him in the throng of spectators. She told herself it didn’t really matter, anyway. Things were what they were, and all that mattered was that she was going back to her small, rented house in one piece.
Nevertheless, she peered out the back window of the cruiser and hoped for a glimpse of the broad shoulders that would now be the highlight of her dreams. And as the car wove expertly into traffic, Riley clutched the edge of the seat and gasped, thinking she just might have caught that glimpse.
“They’re back, and we need to go,” Dale messaged, vying for Derek’s attention, which was riveted to the cruiser getting ready to pull away from the curb.
He and Dale were on the rooftop of the pub, peering at the scene below after taking this slight detour from their agenda, though it could be a costly detour if they didn’t get moving toward any new vamp problem that turned up.
He just had to be sure she was safe.
Derek turned around, nodded to Dale and walked to the opposite edge of the roof, where the shadows were deeper and there was no hint of human presence. It was a shame, he decided, that the owners of these buildings didn’t upgrade their lighting systems. Bloodsuckers hated lights almost as much as they hated noise, and would have been much easier to spot without all that pooling darkness.
“Marshall will take care of her. You know that,” Dale added, following along in Derek’s wake.
“Yes.”
“She’s not your type anyway, Derek.”
“Most assuredly not,” Derek half-heartedly agreed.
But the woman had some kind of hold on him that he could not shake. Or didn’t want to.
She had smelled so damn good. Her skin was like velvet. Yes, she wasn’t a Were. They had nothing in common. Yada yada.
His head came up. There was a scuffling sound to his right and an unnatural wave in the shadows below where he stood. The sudden distraction broke into Derek’s inner discourse on the pitfalls of human-Were relations. It seemed that Dale had been right. Bloodsuckers were gathering here.
Hell...
Derek knew there’d be no way to slow down these numbers unless they could find and deal with their queen. Without a Prime or Master, most vampires couldn’t survive on their own for long. The undead didn’t possess the brains and the skills to keep up their attacks. A Master was just that—the mastermind behind the nest. The core that kept a nest growing.
There might have been one sure way to find this one, but he wouldn’t go that route, since it would entail bringing back the immortal Blood Knight, who had faced this queen down years before. The same f-ing immortal that had driven a Harley away from Seattle with McKenna Randall on the seat behind him.
Immortality aside, some women seemed to prefer bad boys in black leather.
“Five,” he sent to Dale as he peered into the dark. “Five more parasites down there.”
“Is that all?” Dale messaged back.
Derek looked at his partner. “Piece of cake?”
Dale nodded and leaped onto the brick ledge next to Derek. “Right behind you.”
“I wonder,” Derek sent back, “why it is that I always have to go first.”
“Shinier badge,” Dale said as they jumped.
They landed in the alley side by side and on their feet. Derek’s announcement of their presence was a deep, guttural growl that served to halt the moving trail of shadows now hugging the building beside them. He really was tired of fighting vampires without ever seeming to stem the tide, but if he and his pack were to give up, who would take over?
Beyond the alley, several police and fire sirens wailed in earsplitting decibels that might have caused these vampires to think twice about emerging from behind the pub, if in fact they maintained thoughts about self-preservation. As it was, the swirl of moving darkness pressed on.
Derek caught one of them with his claws and dragged the bloodsucker backward. The sucker didn’t have much time to protest or put up a good fight, and was reduced to a cloud of flying dust seconds later.
The vamp in front of that one paused, whirled and hissed like an angry cat through chipped fangs that no longer could have punctured human flesh. Derek tossed that one back to Dale and held his breath as the filthy, foul-smelling ash rained down.
That little deletion left three remaining vampires. If he and Dale took care of them quickly, he could get a last look at that woman before the officers took her away. One final glimpse was all he needed to settle his nerves and maybe even the question of why he wanted that last look so damn badly.
He barreled through the vamp lineup like a football lineman and turned to head them off before they reached the street. With Dale bringing up the rear, the three vamps were squeezed between them. It wasn’t much of a party, and the fighting, which didn’t last long, wasn’t pretty. Black blood dripped from Derek’s claws. Ash swirled everywhere like dark, discolored snow.
Wasting no time, Derek stepped onto the street, careful to keep to the shadows that no longer stank of vampire presence. He leaned forward