Wolf Instinct Read online

  Even so, he had to admit the fight in the alley behind the club last night had been sort of fun. Yeah, he’d tussled with some guys back in Dallas when he’d helped his pack mate Jayden Brooks save the woman he loved, but that had been two idiot gangbangers who barely knew what they were doing. Those men behind the club had been trained killers. Cutting loose against them had felt good, even if he still couldn’t do much with his left arm. He’d tried to get a backhand swing with that arm at one point, and the pain had been so severe his vision had gone a little dark for a few seconds. But he’d fought through it and had taken down three armed men before they could fire a shot.

  Well, he’d taken down two. Alyssa had handled the other one.

  Zane snorted. He probably looked ridiculous standing there in the hallway with a big grin on his face, but watching Alyssa put that wanker on his ass had been kind of hot. That little verbal fencing he’d gotten into with her after the fight, when neither of them had wanted to give up anything to the other, had been a turn-on, too. He hadn’t realized it before, but clearly, he had a thing for strong, feisty women. Even if she represented nothing more than a way to keep an eye on those twin werewolves and find Curtis faster, he could still appreciate the attraction.

  That was the line he kept telling himself whenever he started wondering why he’d agreed to have that late-night snack with her at the diner and why he hadn’t been able to keep his damn mouth shut after getting there. He’d ended up telling her a lot more about his SWAT team and the search for Curtis than he’d planned. But sitting across from her and breathing in her scent, all the filters that usually limited what he said to anyone outside the Pack stopped functioning.

  At least he was smart enough to recognize how dangerous that made her. He hoped.

  Zane was balancing the tray of cups on the box of donuts he was holding so he could knock on her door when his mobile phone buzzed. He thought about ignoring it in favor of seeing Alyssa, but he knew that would be stupid. There weren’t many people who had his number, and the ones who did were all important.

  His mobile vibrated again as he moved down the hall and pulled it out. When he saw Becker’s name on the screen, he thumbed the green button eagerly. He’d called the team’s resident hacker after getting back to the hotel last night and asked him to do a little digging on Alyssa. He’d hoped the other alpha werewolf would have gotten back to him before this, but in the end, he was glad Becker was calling before Zane met with her this morning.

  “What do you have?” he asked as he slipped into an alcove near the vending machines. “And what took so damn long?”

  There was a growl from the other end of the line. “Bite me, you grouchy Brit. Maybe you haven’t noticed but doing background checks for you isn’t my day job. I was out until four this morning on a domestic violence hostage situation, then had to stop by the compound to help out a small beta pack who showed up in town. So excuse the fuck out of me if I didn’t get your crap to you as fast as you wanted.”

  Zane pulled back and stared at his mobile. If he didn’t know Becker’s voice so well, he’d think he was talking to someone else. Becker was one of the easiest-going members of the Pack. He rarely lost his cool or snapped at anyone. Even less so now that he’d met his soul mate, Jayna. Zane couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his friend growl at someone, much less a fellow pack member.

  “You okay?” Zane asked after the silence had stretched out for several long seconds. “Did something happen?”

  More silence, then a sigh. “Those betas I mentioned used to have an alpha until a group of hunters cornered them in a warehouse outside Wichita, killing the guy right in front of them.”

  Zane closed his eyes and cursed silently. To the best of their knowledge, hunters had been tracking down and killing random werewolves for decades, maybe even generations, but it had become so prevalent in the past year that werewolves had showed up in Dallas hoping they’d be safe there. Word had somehow gotten around that the Dallas SWAT pack was strong enough to keep the hunters at bay. For the most part, that was true. There had been the two attacks in Dallas, but those had resulted in heavy losses for the hunters. There’d been nothing since.

  Unfortunately, the hunters had found a way around the issue by hanging out around the northern part of Texas and ambushing werewolves heading to Dallas.

  “Are the betas okay?” Zane asked.

  Beta werewolves were smaller than alphas and not quite as strong. To make up for that, they formed much tighter bonds with their pack mates, so much so that sometimes it seemed like betas could read one another’s minds. They never strayed too far from the group, either. Their bond with their alphas was equally strong.

  “Not really,” Becker said. “The girls had the alpha’s blood all over their clothes, and the boy with them is barely keeping it together. Jayna tried to comfort them for hours, hoping they’d calm down, but it didn’t help. I don’t think any of them are ever going to be all right.”

  “Damn.”

  Zane leaned his head back against the wall. He knew Becker hadn’t told him any of that to make him feel like shit, but that was the end result regardless. The whole reason Zane, Rachel, and Diego were in LA was to find Curtis and figure out who’d hired the hunters to come after them. What they were going to do after that was a little vague, but one way or the other, Zane was damn sure going to find a way to stop the assholes.

  But they’d been out here for weeks and hadn’t learned anything that got them closer to stopping the hunters. While they had been wasting time, innocent werewolves had been dying.

  “What do you have on Alyssa?” he finally asked. “Anything interesting?”

  “Yeah, I dug up some stuff on her. Not sure if it’s anything you want to hear, though.”

  Zane tensed. Becker knew he was attracted to Alyssa because he’d all but come out and admitted it to him last night. If his pack mate was hesitant to get into the information he had on her, it couldn’t be good.

  “Did she lie about being in the FBI?” he asked warily.

  “No, she’s definitely in the bureau,” Becker said. “I was able to confirm that through her Quantico training records, W-2s and other tax records, pictures from various crime scenes, and about a half dozen other documents and databases that’d be damn near impossible to fake. But she doesn’t work at the LA field office. That’s the problem. As far as I can tell, Alyssa Carson isn’t assigned to any FBI field office anywhere in the United States.”

  “What do you mean?” Zane frowned. “She has to be assigned somewhere. Where does she work cases out of? Who’s her boss?”

  “That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet,” Becker admitted. “Up until about a year and a half ago, Alyssa Carson’s life was an open book. She got a bachelor’s in criminology in 2009, a master’s in criminal psychology in 2010, graduated Quantico in 2013, and got assigned to the Sacramento field office that same year. She got some serious commendations over a four-year period and looked to be on a fast track for advancement within the bureau.”

  When Becker slowed to take a breath, Zane almost growled in frustration. “And then?”

  “And then she left the Sacramento field office and simply fell off the official FBI radar,” Becker said. “She’s definitely still working for them. Like I said, I confirmed that. But there’s no record of where she’s currently assigned or who she works for. I can’t find anything related to cases she’s worked on or trials she’s testified at during that time. Hell, I couldn’t even find anything to indicate she’s gotten an award or commendation in all that time. Which doesn’t fit the pattern for her.”

  “So she’s completely fallen off the grid?”

  “Not really. I found her name on an apartment lease in DC, but I’m thinking it’s some kind of fake address because the rent and all the utilities are paid automatically. Plus, I could only find her on one or two DC traffic cams, which means she probably hasn’t been there more than a few times since leaving Sacramento.”
>
  Zane’s gut clenched, though he couldn’t say why. All he could say for sure was that something felt seriously off. “Where has she been?”

  “She’s been traveling almost nonstop all over the world for the past year or so,” Becker said. “I have airline and rental car records putting her in about forty different cities around the globe in that time. It appears she travels alone, and the longest she’s ever spent in any one place is about three weeks.”

  “What was she doing in all those places?” Zane asked, trying to understand where all of this was leading. “Were they related to missing persons cases? That’s what she’s doing here in LA.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” Becker said slowly, like there was something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say out loud. “Especially since the FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction in the overseas locations she’s visited.”

  “What is it then?” Zane demanded, fighting to keep another growl from slipping out.

  “I don’t want to make too much out of it because it could all be a big coincidence,” Becker started, still choosing his words carefully. “But more than a few of those places on her travel itinerary just so happen to be places where hunters tracked down and killed werewolves.”

  Zane knew Becker was still talking because he could hear his pack mate’s voice buzzing in his ear, but he stopped listening as the implications of what his friend had said filtered in. A fed showing up at the murder scene of one werewolf could be coincidence, but an agent traveling all over the country to multiple scenes went way beyond coincidence. Throw in the fact that Alyssa had started running around the globe at the same time the hunters’ activity had started to increase, and it all became impossible to ignore.

  Was Alyssa a hunter? Or a fed working with the hunters?

  The thought made him feel physically ill, and he was glad he was leaning against the wall. Otherwise, he might have fallen down.

  “Do you think it’s possible she’s—” Becker began, but Zane cut him off.

  “No! She was in those places because she was investigating the murders. She isn’t a hunter, I’m sure of it.”

  No way she could be a hunter. The woman he knew did not murder werewolves for a living. He’d never believe that.

  “Okay.” Becker sighed. “Look, maybe we’re reading way too much into this. From what I can gather, most of the places Alyssa went involved unsolved deaths or disappearances that have no obvious connections to the hunters or werewolves. The circumstances around most of those deaths were a little bizarre to say the least. Gage thinks it’s possible the feds have put together a team to look into unusual cases. If so, it’s possible the U.S. government knows about our existence.”

  Bloody hell.

  Did Alyssa know he was a werewolf? Had the whole fight in the alley behind the club been a setup to lure him into the open and get him to reveal his true nature? Had there been cameras back there in the darkness? Worse, what if she was in that club for those werewolves? Had Alyssa been playing him the entire time they’d been at the diner?

  There was only one way to find out for sure.

  “Becker, I’ll talk to you later,” he said. “Make sure you get Rachel and Diego up to speed on all of this. I’m not even going to try and explain it.”

  Zane didn’t wait for a reply. Hanging up, he headed toward Alyssa’s room.

  * * *

  Zane was ready to rip into Alyssa the moment she opened the door, but the sight of her standing there in a pair of shorts and a well-worn T-shirt, her long, blond hair tousled and down around her shoulders, completely took his breath away. The shorts showed off plenty of leg and the T-shirt was thin enough to suggest she wasn’t wearing a bra. Bloody hell, she looked amazing.

  “What are you doing here so early?” she snapped as he walked in. “I have a gun and I will shoot you. You know that, right?”

  Zane opened his mouth to tell her eight o’clock wasn’t early, but then her sweet scent distracted the hell out of him, leaving him momentarily speechless. He held up the tray of cups and the box from the bakery.

  “I brought donuts,” he pointed out, not sure where the righteous anger he’d felt had disappeared to. “You can’t shoot a man who brings you donuts.”

  She eyed the box in his hand. “I thought I was supposed to buy breakfast.”

  “Donuts aren’t breakfast. They’re the things you eat on special occasions. Like your birthday or Christmas. Except you get to experience it every morning.”

  She considered that answer for a few seconds, apparently trying to work through the logic. Finally, she gave up and shook her head.

  He turned one side of the tray in her direction. “Coffee with cream and two sugars.”

  Alyssa looked a little surprised but nodded, taking the cup from the tray and padding barefoot over to the tiny table in the equally tiny kitchenette in the corner. She took a seat and motioned him toward the other one. The act of sitting made her shorts ride up a bit, exposing even more of those extremely nice thighs. He had a sudden image of those well-toned legs wrapped around him and immediately went hard in his jeans.

  He quickly sat down across from her before she saw the bulge in his groin, placing the box of donuts on the table between them. He sipped his tea and glanced around the room. It was a lot nicer than the place he and his teammates were in. There was a small travel bag by the bathroom and another suitcase, not much bigger than the first, set up on one of those hotel luggage racks against the wall by the TV, clothes neatly folded inside it. From the way her scent pervaded every corner of the room, overwhelming all others, it was obvious Alyssa had been there for at least a week, maybe ten days. Yet she hadn’t unpacked. Maybe she wanted to be able to bounce on a moment’s notice.

  He surveyed the rest of the room, his gaze settling on the bed. The sheets and blankets were still lying where she’d shoved them down when she’d gotten up to answer the door. The scent wafting off those sheets was so feminine and mesmerizing he wanted to walk over, shove his face right into the middle of them, and breathe deeply. He could only imagine how she’d look at him if he did something like that.

  Then again, maybe she wouldn’t be surprised at all. Maybe she’d immediately recognize his werewolf behavior for exactly what it was—because she already knew what he was.

  On the other side of the table, Alyssa had opened the box of donuts and was regarding them with amusement. While the confections smelled delectable, it couldn’t compare with her intoxicating scent. “I hope you don’t think I’m eating half of these, because that much sugar in the morning would have me bouncing off the walls.”

  Zane snorted as she reached in and grabbed one of the glazed chocolate cake donuts. He went for a cream-filled number, but instead of taking a bite, he set it down on a napkin in front of him. Alyssa must have seen something on his face because she put her donut down, too, her eyes narrowing.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re not assigned to the LA field office.”

  He wasn’t as good as some of his other pack mates at knowing when someone was lying, but Zane could pick up on it occasionally. When someone lied, their pulse and breathing rate sped up a little and the scent they gave off changed a bit.

  Alyssa regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then picked up her chocolate donut. “Never said I was.”

  She took a bite, and Zane was distracted for a second by the way her lips moved as she chewed. He stopped focusing on how sexy she made something as simple as eating a donut and concentrated on whether she was lying or not. He didn’t pick up anything to make him think she was. Then again, it wasn’t like she’d given him a real answer. For what it was worth, her breathing and pulse were normal. Her scent was the same, too. Not that he could trust it. She’d probably smell like heaven in a skimpy pair of shorts even if she told him she was a pygmy lemur from Madagascar.

  “So where are you based out of?” he asked. “Because you sure seem to move around a lot.”

  Alyssa took another b
ite of donut, chewing slowly, then sipped her coffee. “I see you’ve been checking up on me. Should I be thrilled you’ve taken such a personal interest in my busy work schedule or pissed that you obviously don’t trust me?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t trust you?”

  “Is there a reason so many of the bad guys you and your SWAT teammates go up against end up becoming some coyote’s chew toy?” she shot back.

  He was glad Alyssa didn’t have a werewolf’s enhanced hearing because his heart immediately began pounding harder as the implications of her question hit him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, making his voice sound casual even though he was close to hyperventilating at the realization that the federal government had been snooping into his and his pack mates’ lives. Yeah, he’d been snooping into Alyssa’s, but that was different.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, sitting there opposite him looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I know coyotes are smart animals, but the ones in Texas are clearly bold as well. How many times have those critters shown up at the scene after a SWAT-involved shooting and nibbled on the bodies? Three or four at least that I saw.” She sipped her coffee again. “Funny how I didn’t see any other reports about coyotes doing that to dead bodies at other crime scenes. Just the ones involving your team. If it didn’t sound ridiculous, someone might think those coyotes follow you guys around.”

  Zane ground his jaw, forcing himself to keep it together as Alyssa looked him right in the eye and pretty much called BS on the biggest lie in Dallas—that wild coyotes were to blame for the mauled and mangled bodies that were the natural outcome of a pack of werewolves going up against a group of armed bad guys. No one in the police department had ever questioned the theory that coyotes had clawed and chewed on the bodies—not even the medical examiner—as absolutely implausible as the idea of coyotes going after dead bodies might be. But Alyssa and her FBI friends seemed to see the lie for what it was—a complete and utter fabrication.

  How much did Alyssa really know? If the hints she was dropping were any indication, somehow, she was aware that Zane and his pack mates had torn those men apart. But did she know Zane and his teammates were werewolves?