Chapter 9

“What did Peterson say?” Lana asked.

Max didn’t say anything as they walked toward the big dance club on the corner of Pearl and Main. Lana thought maybe Max hadn’t heard the question, but that was impossible. There were a lot of people out and about tonight, but it wasn’t that noisy. He’d heard her. He was simply too worried to answer. That scared her.

Lana had spent last night at Max’s place; then today, they’d gone to visit the Wallace kids and their mom at the shelter again. They’d brought Mrs. Wallace some clothes, toiletries, and food for her and the kids, as well as coloring books for Natasha and Nina and games for Terence. After that, they’d gone back to Max’s place and hung out, watching TV, playing video games, and, of course, making out a lot. It was the best day she’d ever had in her life, and she couldn’t wait to do it again tomorrow. Except tomorrow, maybe she’d spend the whole day naked, just so she could drive Max crazy. She enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t see her naked without wanting her.

They’d just gotten out of Max’s Camaro and were heading toward the club when Peterson had called. She’d only heard Max’s side of the conversation, and while he hadn’t said much, he’d definitely been in cop mode.

“Max?” she prompted when he still didn’t reply.

He slowed his steps, pulling her over to the side. When he looked at her, his expression was serious. “Peterson doesn’t have an ID on the John Doe yet, but they think the same person who murdered him killed Denise.”

After seeing the photo of the guy, Lana had suspected as much. “Do they have any leads on the killer?”

“No. But they both had the same drug in their system, administered at some point prior to their deaths.”

“What?” Lana frowned. “Denise didn’t take drugs, I know that for a fact. They must have made a mistake.”

Max shook his head. “This isn’t a drug she took on her own. It’s a heavy-duty animal tranquilizer the killer injected into both of them with a dart gun of some type. The ME found the puncture marks once he knew what to look for. He said Denise had so much of the stuff in her system she barely felt the pain during the torture—for what that’s worth. The drug was what killed her. The gunshot to the head came afterward.”

Lana’s knees went weak and she reached out to grab Max’s arm to steady herself. “Why would the killer give animal tranquilizers to Denise? Who does that?”

Max didn’t answer.

A couple walked past them, laughing about something. Lana didn’t even look at them.

“If Peterson said something else, something that explains all of this, please tell me,” she begged. “Because I’m getting really scared now.”

“You should be scared,” he said. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen these people’s handiwork. My teammates and I first heard about one of their victims in New Orleans back in September. While that murder happened over two years ago, we’ve since learned there have been a lot more of them all across the United States. There could be some in other countries, too, but we can’t confirm that yet.”

Lana’s head spun. What was Max saying? That these people were globe-trotting serial killers?

“What’s the deal with the animal tranquilizer?” she asked, not sure now whether she really wanted to know.

Max waited while a group of women strolled past before answering. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense.

“Before I tell you about that, there’s something else I need you to know, something I hope will help you understand how serious this all is.”

Lana tightened her grip on her purse as her teeth, gums, and fingertips began to tingle. She barely noticed. The strange sensations were starting to feel almost normal to her now.

“Peterson told me that Denise’s parents got in from Alaska today,” Max continued. “They went through the apartment and noticed that whoever killed Denise went through her address book.”

Lana remembered the book Max was talking about. She used to tease Denise all the time about keeping a physical address book when everyone else on the planet stored all that stuff in their phone. But what the heck did that book have to do with any of this?

“How do her parents know that?”

“Because they tore out some pages in the middle—including all the contacts listed under the letter M.” He took a deep breath. “Lana, they have your parents’ address. They know where you’re staying while you’re here in Dallas—or at least where you were staying.”

She frowned. She didn’t understand any of this and the confusion was frustrating the heck out of her. Her heart was thumping like mad and every noise around her was beginning to sound way louder than it should. “Why would they care where I’m staying?”

Max grabbed hand, squeezing it tight. “Lana, I think the people who killed Denise did it because they thought she was you. Once they realized she wasn’t, they tortured her to figure out where you were. With all the tranquilizers in her system, I doubt she told them very much, but now that they have those pages from her address book, it doesn’t matter. They know where to find you.”

She shook her head. “That’s crazy, Max. Why would anyone come after me? I’m a recent college graduate with fifty thousand dollars in student loans. And what does any of this have to do with animal tranquilizers?”

For a moment, Max looked like he was at a complete loss for words, which only made her worry more. What could be so bad he couldn’t even say it?

“I never wanted it to come out like this.” He sighed. “Once I realized you had no clue how special you are, I was going to wait until later, when I could bring it up in a way that wouldn’t freak you out.”

If Max thought he was helping her understand what was going on, he was wrong. She appreciated that he thought she was special, but right then she wasn’t interested in romantic terms of endearment.

She fixed him with a look. “Max, if there’s something you’ve been hiding from me, now is the time to say it.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking around helplessly. Still holding on to her hand, he led her down the street and into an alley.

“Max, please tell me what’s happening,” she pleaded.

He looked around again, as if he was worried someone might overhear. “Lana, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound insane, but you have to believe me. You’re special, and the people who killed Denise are willing to kill you because of it.”

She cupped his face in her hand. “I love that you think I’m so special, but there’s absolutely no reason for anyone to come after me. I’m not a witness to some kind of major crime and I’m not hiding some deep, dark secret worth millions of dollars. I’m just a recent college graduate with a cop for a dad…and a cop for a boyfriend.”

Max’s mouth curved slightly at that, but then he turned serious again. “This isn’t about something you’ve seen or a secret worth a lot of money. This is about what you are. It’s something these people—these hunters—are willing to kill you for.”

Lana didn’t say anything. She was too tired to keep chasing after the secret Max seemed to be working toward.

He must have figured that out, because he took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “Lana, you’re a werewolf.”

She blinked, waiting for the punch line that had to be coming. When it didn’t, she realized Max was serious. Or he thought he was.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said. “That’s—”

“Insane,” Max interrupted. “Remember, I told you it was going to sound insane. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. You’re a werewolf, Lana. I know that because I’m one, too.”

Lana felt her anger flare. Denise was dead, murdered in the most horrible way possible. Some other guy she’d never met was dead, too, and Max was playing games talking about stupid werewolves. She never would have thought he’d do something so juvenile and thoughtless.

“I need to show you something, and I don’t want you to be scared.” He tugged her a little farther down the alley, away from the street. “I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. But you have to see this so you’ll believe what I’m telling you.”

She snorted as he released her hand, about to ask him what the hell he was planning to do—grow fangs and a snout. But before she could get the words out, Max changed right in front of her eyes. His jaw broadened and filled full of teeth, long canines descending over his lower lip, even as his eyes went feral, seemingly lit from within by a yellow glow.

Lana wasn’t the kind of woman who normally freaked out. Heck, bugs, rats, and snakes didn’t even bother her. But at that moment, she freaked—and screamed.

Max took a step toward her, lifting his hands as if trying to calm her down. That’s when she saw the long claws extending from his fingertips.

Long, sharp claws, a mouth full of teeth, and glowing eyes.

Her boyfriend was a frigging werewolf.

She screamed again. Why the hell was she doing that?

Then her Max was back, standing in front of her looking as gorgeous as he’d ever been. No fangs, no claws, no glow-in-the-dark eyes. But no matter how normal he looked now, Lana couldn’t forget what she’d just seen.

She didn’t realize she was backing away from him until she saw the pain in his eyes. But she couldn’t stop herself. There was something wrong here. Something wrong with him.

“Lana, calm down,” Max said gently. Thankfully, he didn’t come any closer. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and I meant it. But you needed to see that, so you’d understand what I am…what you are. The people who killed Denise are werewolf hunters. They travel the country killing any of our kind they can find. That’s where the animal tranquilizer comes in. It’s tough for a person to take out a werewolf, but the heavy-duty drugs slow us down long enough to allow them to do it. These people know you’re one of us, and they’re coming for you.”

Lana refused to listen. She had no idea how Max was able to do what he’d just done. She was too smart to believe in monsters—especially werewolves. She knew one thing for sure—she was nothing like him.

“Stop it!” she yelled. “I can’t explain what I just saw, but I’m not like you.”

She ignored the devastated look on his face, telling herself she’d deal with it later, once she had time to process all of this. Right now she needed to get away from this situation—from Max—for a while. She started to edge past him, hoping he wouldn’t try to stop her.

He stepped in front of her. “Lana, you can’t leave. Not like this.”

“She can leave if she fucking wants to,” a deep voice said from behind Lana.

She spun around and found two guys standing there looking pissed. They were both big and brawny, one blond, the other dark haired. They must have heard her screams and come to help. She supposed chivalry wasn’t dead. She didn’t need their help, though. It wasn’t like she was scared of Max.

Okay, maybe she was scared of him a little bit. The mere thought of his fangs and claws made her shudder.

“You okay, lady?” the blond guy asked, looking back and forth between her and Max. “This dude messing with you?”

Lana had no desire to get Max in trouble—or a fight. But she needed to get out of the alley, and these two men were as good a distraction as any.

“No, there’s no problem,” she murmured. “I was just leaving.”

She moved to sidestep Max, but he blocked her path again. “Lana, seriously. It’s too dangerous for you out there.”

Lana opened her mouth to tell him that she needed some space to think and wrap her head around everything she’d seen, but she didn’t get the chance because the beefy, dark-haired guy took a swing and blindsided Max with a punch straight to the temple.

She screamed, sure the savage blow had killed him, but Max barely rocked on his feet. Jaw tight, he glared at the guy who’d sucker-punched him, his eyes glowing yellow-gold again, a low rumbling growl emanating from his throat.

The sound slipped under Lana’s skin, vibrating there and making her whole body tingle in response. Her teeth were aching so badly she thought they might tear right out of her gums.

In a blur, Max backhanded his attacker across the alley, bouncing the man off the redbrick wall of the far building. Lana was almost certain she heard something crunch and did everything she could to convince herself it had been the brick breaking. A part of her almost swore she could hear the dark-haired man’s heartbeat from where he lay unmoving on the ground. But that was impossible. She couldn’t hear something as subtle as a heartbeat.

Another blur caught her eye, and she turned to catch sight of her other would-be protector launch himself at Max, a wicked-looking knife in his hand.

She opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. Her throat constricted in terror as the blond man plunged the blade deep into Max’s chest.

Lana hurried over to him only to slide to a halt as Max batted the guy across the alley. He hit the building with a thud and a crunch before dropping noiselessly to the ground. He was still alive—Lana knew because she could hear his heart beating—but he’d definitely need medical attention.

Max turned to look at Lana, his eyes glowing like the high beams of a car, his fangs extended so far she wasn’t sure how they could possibly have been hidden in his jaws, the blade still sticking out from his chest. She took a hesitant step toward him, but then stopped as he casually reached down and pulled the knife out of his chest, dropping it to the ground with an irritated flick of his hand.

The glow in his eyes didn’t dim as he regarded her, and she swore time ceased. In the near quiet, she heard his heart pounding loud and fast.

Then the smell hit her nose—metallic, harsh, overpowering.

She had no idea how she knew what the scent was or how she could possibly smell it, but she knew with a certainty it was Max’s blood.

This couldn’t be happening—the sights, the sounds, the smells, the way her body was responding to all of them was too much.

She was running out of the alley before she realized her feet were moving.

“Lana, wait!”

Behind her, she heard Max following. That only fed into the complete panic trampling rampantly through her body, and she ran faster. Soon enough, the sound of his footsteps died away, like he’d given up chasing her. The sobs coming from her throat made breathing difficult, but she kept going anyway. She didn’t know where she was running to, but she couldn’t stop.

* * *

Max cursed as he got out of his Camaro and made his way up the walkway to the Masons’ house. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved Lana had sought shelter in her parents’ home or not. Something told him the deputy chief and his wife wouldn’t be very happy to see him. But if he wanted to talk to Lana, he had no choice but to walk up there and ring that doorbell.

Shit, this would have been so much easier if she’d simply gone to Brandy and Miriam’s place. He snorted. Like anything about this was easy.

It had been nearly two hours since the fiasco in the heart of the downtown club area, and Max was hoping Lana had calmed down enough to talk to him. That might have been wishful thinking, considering how scared she’d been earlier.

She hadn’t answered her cell when he’d called—not that he’d expected her to—so he’d stopped by Brandy and Miriam’s apartment, assuming Lana had gone there. But she hadn’t. All he’d accomplished was freaking out the other two women when he’d mentioned that he and Lana had gotten into an argument and she’d run off. They weren’t too thrilled to help him find her after that, but he’d finally been able to convince them he was simply worried about her and only wanted to talk.

Brandy had finally called Lana’s cell. Lana’s mother had answered, saying she was there. When Mrs. Mason had asked Brandy if she knew what was going on, Lana’s friend had shot him a look of pure malice when she’d said she had no idea either and that she planned on finding out.

Brandy and Miriam had refused to let him leave, grilling him for ten minutes about what he’d done to their best friend to make her run off in the first place. Max had gotten away only after telling them he loved Lana and had scared her by getting too real, too fast. It was the best he could come up with on the fly, and it wasn’t exactly a lie.

It wasn’t the truth, either. In reality, his attempt to convince Lana that she was a werewolf had been a complete train wreck. Why hadn’t he waited until he could sit down with Gage or Cooper or Khaki—or anyone else in the Pack? Hell, since Lana was a beta, it probably would have been better to have another beta explain it to her. Maybe they could have done that bonding thing betas did, and everything would have been fine.

Instead, he’d shifted right in front of her, completely blowing her mind in the middle of downtown Dallas. What was he, stupid?

You’re not stupid, a little voice in his head whispered. You’re scared.

That call from Peterson had rattled him. The moment the homicide detective had confirmed both their John Doe and Denise had been dosed with animal tranquilizer, he’d known hunters were involved. After that, the pieces had started to fall into place so fast Max had almost hyperventilated. The John Doe had probably been hanging around Lana’s apartment building because he’d most likely been obeying the same pack-building instincts the omegas in Dallas had been feeling. The hunters had gotten the omega and somehow figured out there was a female werewolf living in Austin. They’d busted into Lana’s apartment and darted Denise, only realizing after the tranquilizers had rendered the girl nearly unconscious that she wasn’t a werewolf. But they’d tortured her anyway simply because they were vicious bastards.

And thanks to Denise’s address book, they knew Lana was in Dallas and had come here to kill her. The idea they’d do the same thing to her that they’d done to Denise twisted his guts into knots.

He’d scared Lana so badly in that alley that she’d almost gone into a shift herself. He could smell it when he’d been fighting with those two idiots. Her scent had completely changed from that half-werewolf, half-human mix into a true beta scent. Not only had her heart been racing, but her eyes had also started to glow. He was pretty sure he’d caught sight of the cutest set of little fangs poking out of her mouth, too.

Then she’d run like a terrified animal. He’d only made it worse by chasing after her. He was glad she’d calmed down enough to stop running and go somewhere familiar and safe. If she hadn’t, who knew how far she might have run?

Max stepped onto the front porch just as the door opened. Deputy Chief Mason stepped outside, closing it behind him. Lana’s scent—back to the half-and-half mix he was used to—hit him in the face like a physical blow, and he nearly shifted right there in front of the deputy chief. Every instinct in Max’s body screamed at him to kick down the door and run inside to take Lana in his arms and protect her, but he stopped himself. Going in there like that would only frighten her again.

Not that it looked like Mason had any intention of letting Max get anywhere near the door. Lana’s father was planted on the porch, one hand shoved in the side pocket of the jacket he wore. Max didn’t need to have X-ray vision to know the man had a gun in there.

“You’re not welcome here,” the deputy chief said coldly. “Lana doesn’t want to see you…ever again.”

Max frowned. When he’d realized Lana had no idea she was a werewolf, he’d also bought into the idea that her parents didn’t know, either. That had gotten harder to believe when she’d told him about her parents paying a buttload of money to get her out of the hospital after that car wreck and take care of her at home. That sure as hell sounded like someone trying to hide that their daughter was a werewolf. Even then, he’d been ready to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Lana was unique. Anything was possible with her.

Now, Max couldn’t shake the feeling that this was way more than a father being overprotective. Mason wasn’t trying to chase him off because he wasn’t good enough for his little girl. This man was too practical and rational to take that line with his daughter. This was something more, something deeply personal.

“You’ve known all along what your daughter is—what we are—haven’t you?” Max asked.

Mason’s mouth tightened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Officer Lowry. I want you off my porch right now, or you’ll be a civilian by morning.”

Max stood there, fighting the urge to shift. Mason was lying, Max was sure of it. But he got a grip on himself. Losing control right then wasn’t going to help anything. There was something more important going on here than Mason knowing about werewolves.

“Chief, your daughter is in danger. There are people out there who will hurt her simply because of what she is.”

“The only one who’s a danger to Lana is you,” Mason ground out. “If you hadn’t forced your way into her life, she wouldn’t be in there crying right now.”

Max opened his mouth to argue, but Mason turned and walked into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Max was so torn about leaving he almost shifted again. Shit, he had to get himself together and think. What the hell was he going to do? The hunters could be coming for Lana at any moment.

He could stay and sit in his car, keep an eye on the place. But if he did that, how long before the deputy chief called a patrol car out here to chase him off?

Max cursed. This wasn’t something he could deal with on his own. He was the member of a pack, and right now, he needed them more than ever. He also needed the advice of someone he trusted like Gage and Xander and Mike. Hell, he’d even listen to Cooper at the moment if it would help him figure out what to do next.

The hunters didn’t pose an immediate threat to Lana, not here in the home of the deputy chief of police. The hunters were vicious, but they weren’t reckless. They’d never come at anyone like a cop, not in the middle of a fully populated residential neighborhood. Lana would be safe for the moment—until he could come up with a better plan.

With that in mind, Max jogged back out to his Camaro and cranked the engine. Pulling a U-turn, he headed back the way he’d come.

Gage and Mac’s home was a frequent hangout for a lot of the werewolves in Dallas—Pack and otherwise—so when he pulled up in front of the two-story house thirty minutes later, Max wasn’t surprised to see Xander’s pickup truck alongside Mike’s Sierra in the driveway. There were two other vehicles Max didn’t recognize.

Gage’s wife, Mackenzie, answered the door. Tall with long, dark hair and blue eyes, she was a journalist at the Dallas Daily Star. She didn’t have to be a reporter to pick up on the fact that something was up with him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked the moment he stepped inside.

Since she’d married the SWAT team commander, Mac had turned into the Pack matriarch—even if she refused to consider herself old enough to play that part. Regardless, she’d jumped into the role of helping the rapidly growing Pack deal with day-to-day issues.

Max gave her a rueful look. “Not really. I sort of pulled a stupid, and need to tell Sarge about it.”

“Gage mentioned you’d found your One,” she said, her lips curving. “I wondered how long it would be before you showed up here—or ended up in jail.”

Max smiled wryly. “Good to see you have so much faith in me.”

“It’s not that we don’t have faith in you,” she said as she led him toward the back of the house and the kitchen. “It’s just that we know how finding The One can make a werewolf behave. Gage will be thrilled you decided to come and tell him up front instead of calling him after the crap hit the fan.”

Max grunted. He wasn’t so sure the boss would be as thrilled when he found out the deputy chief had been ready to pull a weapon on him.

Gage, Xander, and Mike were sitting at the kitchen table along with Khaki, while Florian and Armand Danu, the oldest members of the family Cooper had married into, were leaning back against the granite counter of the island. The two men had become ingrained in the Pack’s effort to form a safe haven for werewolves here in Dallas. With their knowledge of werewolf hunters, their presence at gatherings was as important as anyone’s.

“No handcuffs,” Xander observed dryly. “I’m going to say that’s a good thing even before I hear the details.”

Gage didn’t seem as amused. “What happened?”

Max took the empty seat next to Mike and told them everything that had happened that night, starting with the call he’d gotten from Peterson and finishing with his decision to reveal to Lana that he was a werewolf. He might have downplayed the part where he’d beat up on the two Good Samaritans in the alley. For all the good it did him. One look at Gage, Xander, and Mike convinced him they knew he was keeping something from them.

“Well, that’s one way to let Lana know she’s a werewolf,” Mike said. A big guy with light-brown skin, dark eyes, and close-cropped, black hair, he had been an undercover narcotics cop before he became a werewolf and joined SWAT. “Probably not the way I would have done it, but I give you an A for intentions. How did she handle it?”

“Not well,” Max admitted. “She flipped out and almost shifted. I don’t think she realized what was happening to her, though. Before I knew it, she took off running and didn’t stop until she reached her parents’ house.”

Gage grimaced. “And you decided to go over and try to talk to her, right?”

Max shrugged. “I had to try to make sure she was okay. She still doesn’t believe what she is or how much danger she’s in.”

“Try?” Xander prompted. “You didn’t talk to her?”

Mac shook his head. “No. The deputy chief was waiting for me at the door with a gun. He wasn’t going to let me within ten feet of Lana. I could hear her crying upstairs, though. I really scared her.”

On the other side of him, Khaki put a comforting hand on his arm. “When she realizes what the two of you have, she’ll come back to you.”

Max snorted. “You sure of that? You didn’t see her face. She was terrified when she saw me fang out.”

“If she’s The One for you, it will happen,” Armand said, his French accent slight but still discernible. “Everly was horrified when Cooper showed her he was a werewolf.”

“You mean after you stabbed him and forced him to partially shift, don’t you?” Xander pointed out.

Armand shrugged. “Maybe. But the important thing is that even though my sister ran away, she was unable to resist the tug pulling her back to her soul mate. She was bound to him so strongly that being away from him made her physically ill.” He looked at Max. “If you’re meant to be together, it will be the same with you and Lana. You can’t force her to accept something she’s not ready for. Just give her a little space.”

Max hoped that was true. If Lana felt like he did right now, he didn’t understand how she could stay away from him. It felt like he had a hole in his chest where his heart should be. “What about the hunters? What if they come looking for her while I’m not around to protect her?”

The mere thought made his gut clench.

“There’s not a lot we can do about that right now,” Gage said. “I think she’ll be safe with her father watching out for her.”

Max opened his mouth to complain, but Gage cut him off. “Even so, I’ll work up a duty roster and have the Pack do drive-by patrols every couple hours. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

“I’ll take the first two rotations,” Max said eagerly.

“No, you won’t.” Gage scowled at him. “In fact, you’ll take none of the rotations. The deputy chief will suspend you if he catches sight of you anywhere near his home. If he doesn’t shoot you. Let the rest of the Pack handle this. You figure out what the hell you’re going to say to Lana if Armand is right and she comes back to you. And please try to come up with a more intelligent approach than showing off your fangs and claws, would you?”

Max was about to point out that the whole tell-her-the-truth thing had been Cooper’s idea but decided to keep that to himself. Admitting to Sarge he’d taken anything Cooper had to say seriously probably wouldn’t make him look any better in his alpha’s eyes.

He only hoped the hunters wouldn’t show up before Lana came back to him.