Memphis Heat 1 Stakeout Read online

  * * *

  Belle stared down at him, her hands fisted in the matted fur of his chest, her brain a quiet, peaceful place for the first time since… since he’d been shot. Since she’d seen the thing that had attacked him wither, its bits and pieces returning to remnants of its human form.

  Had she known what the monster had been? Not really. Not like this. She hadn’t wanted to know. Not wanted to admit what she’d seen might be real. A dark night. A full moon. Her partner shot. Bleeding to death before her. And there had been nothing she could do. Nothing but yell at him, tell him to hold on. Help was coming. Hold on…

  She’d blamed it on too many romance novels. Werewolves didn’t exist. She couldn’t have seen what she’d seen. But the fur under her fingers turned softer, and faded away, and the smooth, hard body of her lover, of the man she’d lived without these months, shook off the now too-large cuffs and shrank around her, pulling her down tight against the length of his body.

  How she’d missed this.

  She’d trusted him. Trusted him with her life. She still did. Just didn’t trust him to tell her everything. Werewolf or not, he was still a man. What the hell was in that warehouse that was worth risking their lives over?

  Chapter 3

  When the afterglow faded, Belle sighed and sat up, pulling on her jeans and fastening them with shaky fingers. She finally met his gaze. “So this is what you’ve been hiding?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “You still haven’t. Told me, that is. Though I think I know. The fur kinda gave it away, but what I’m thinking sounds insane, even to me.” She smiled at that. “If I hadn’t seen you shift… What exactly are you, and how did this happen?”

  “That night. When I was shot. He came at me. His face turned all… long. And furry. With wicked teeth. Just his face. And he bit me. I think what I am is pretty obvious.”

  He looked so normal, now. But she knew what she’d seen. “OK, someone has to say it. You were bitten by a werewolf. And I can see how that might not be the last thing you wanted to see on your way out. Teeth coming at you, I mean. You still had the presence of mind to blow his head off. That’s something at least.”

  “Had to. He said…” Jarod swallowed hard. “He said, ‘The bitch is mine.’ I knew I was dead. Nobody survives a wound like that. I couldn’t let him take you out, too. I also realized right then just how dangerous it was for anyone to know how much… to know I cared for you. Having any kind of relationship like that is just asking for trouble. If the brass finds out, they’ll transfer one of us. I’m beginning to think I agree with the policy now that I’ve experienced the result firsthand. I never should have chased him into that alley. I could have gotten you killed.”

  “But you didn’t. No one’s ever blown a guy’s head off for me before. I appreciate that, but I can take care of myself. You of all people should know that.” She stopped fidgeting with her jeans. “Wait. Is that why you’re alive? Because you’re a werewolf?”

  He shrugged. “Modern medicine to the rescue?”

  She wasn’t letting go that easy. “You’d have died, wouldn’t you? If he hadn’t bit you. They tried to tell me in the ER that it was just a flesh wound. Looked a lot worse than it was. Bullshit. I saw you go down. We’ve both seen enough shootings to know what’s bad and what’s not. I didn’t believe that crap then, and I don’t believe it now. Maybe it was a kind of miracle.”

  “I’d say more of a curse. I passed out after his head blew all apart, but I woke up in the ambulance. I heard the EMTs talking. They told the ER doc they didn’t understand how I was still alive. They’d done all they could, but I was bleeding out. They were holding the pieces of my chest together with as much pressure as they could, and then the bleeding just… stopped.”

  “Well, you’re alive. I like that part. So. Other than that, you can shift into -- whatever that furry man thing’s called. Obviously you don’t need a full moon. And you heal really fast. What else?”

  “I’ve never shifted like that before. Usually I’m a wolf.” He grinned. “A big, badass wolf. No moon necessary. I just need to be pissed. Or, apparently, horny. Now you know as much as I do.”

  “That’s it?” She’d expected… more. She wasn’t sure what, but surely in three months he’d learned something.

  “Well, hunting saves on the grocery bill.” His grin widened. “I prefer my meat raw.”

  Hunting? “Hunting what?”

  “Working my way up the food chain. Tried squirrels, but they’re really fast. Did better with rabbits. Managed a couple of deer. And I’ve been learning to fight. Kinda had to. Lot of wild dogs around. Most of ’em don’t care to share their territory.”

  Belle blinked at him, knowing her disbelief flooded her face. “You’ve been getting into pissing contests with packs of wild dogs? What are you, five? You’ve got some of the most amazing genetics in humankind’s history at your disposal, and the best you can do is mark your territory?” Of all the things this situation could have brought to Jarod, that was the last thing Belle expected. Men really were idiots.

  “Hey, it’s not all that easy. You try peeing while you’re standing with one leg in the air. Downright embarrassing when you miss. Or worse, fall over. Learning how to box with my teeth’s a whole lot easier.”

  Once she started laughing, she couldn’t seem to stop. Every time she thought she was done, she’d look at him, screw up her face, raise an arm, and crash back down in another fit of helpless giggles. “Men are such idiots,” she managed, voicing aloud her earlier musing because he needed to hear it. Lord! Pissing contests! “Even when they’ve got four feet.”

  “Son of a cocksucker.”

  His abrupt change of mood sobered her up. “What’s wrong?”

  Jarod reached for his clothes. “The Russians are leaving again. We’ve got to find out what’s in that warehouse. This might be the best chance we get.”

  Belle grabbed for her jacket. “We should call for backup.”

  “Oh, sure. Ah, hey, guys, don’t mind me. I just forgot to shave tonight and am a bit on the furry side.” Jarod rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you get it, babe. I can’t control this thing. I could shift again. Try explaining that to the captain. Not to mention I’d end up getting dissected in some foul-smelling lab by creepy guys in white coats.”

  “I’m just saying!” She punched his arm before shoving her gun into the holster at the small of her back. “We can’t go in there without backup. There’s like twenty of them and two of us. The odds are not in our favor.”

  “We’re not following them, ’cause they left. We’re -- I’m -- going to go check out the warehouse. I want to see what they’re up to in there.”

  “This isn’t on the books, is it.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Hey, I tried to make you go home. I didn’t want you involved, but you insisted. I have to find out what these guys are up to. I don’t want them running around the city making werewolves out of everyone who gets in their way. Or worse, the criminal element. That would be the beginning of a really bad week for law enforcement, don’t you think?” And really, how much worse could the week get?

  * * *

  Turned out, things could get a lot worse. He knew that the moment he managed to get through the security panel at the warehouse door. Way too easy. And, sure enough, as the door swung open, he heard that click -- the one that said “You’ve just triggered something bad.”

  “Get back!” he heard himself screaming, though his voice seemed to be coming from miles away. But Belle was too close. The blast would kill her. Anger and fear warred within him as he sprang for her, the weight of his shifted form knocking her down even as the first explosion triggered. He gathered her close, tucking her beneath him as the blast pushed them down, shielding her with his furred hide. He was tougher this way. He might not survive the explosion but she would, damn it. And she knew, now. Knew what he was.

  Belle was nothing if not
tenacious. She’d never give up. Not till she found out what had killed him, and why… “Damn good cop.” Her scent filled him. Soothed him. Her scent and more. Blood. His blood but not hers. Yeah. He could live with that. “Good instincts. Shoulda called for backup,” he whispered as his world went dark.

  * * *

  “Good afternoon, Miss Duprey. Please have a seat.”

  “Officer.” One dark eyebrow raised a fraction of a millimeter. “Officer Duprey. And you’re in my jurisdiction, so you’d do well to remember that, Agent Miller.”

  “Please have a seat, Officer Duprey.”

  Humor her, would he? Asshole. All these bureau guys were assholes. She had a mind to… “Where’s my partner?”

  “As I’m sure you know by now, Officer Duprey, your partner is a werewolf.”

  “Werewolves don’t exist.” Belle answered without hesitation or surprise at his declaration. She knew it was a sure sign she knew more than she was letting on, but that was all right. Let the bastard think what he wanted to.

  Another raised eyebrow. “Of course not. And the FBI hasn’t sent me to Memphis to investigate the recent incursion of Russian… family members.”

  “Again, how would that be in your jurisdiction?”

  “Funny thing about werewolves, Officer. There’s not a whole lot of written regulations on them. Most government entities like to pretend they don’t exist. We show up, they’re more than happy to let us take cases like this off their hands.” He looked back to his paperwork. “As I was saying, you and your partner are being transferred to my team.”

  Didn’t it just figure the FBI would have a unit to deal with werewolves? Miller held out paperwork, which she refused to take. “Team? What team? What have you done to my partner?”

  “Done to him?” Agent Miller sat back in his chair as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ms. Duprey, there’s nothing your partner can teach us about werewolves. In fact, from the looks of things, we may be able to teach him a thing or two. We need to focus on who’s the enemy, here. The Russian pack that’s moving into Memphis is nothing your department wants to deal with on its own. The fewer people who know werewolves exist, let alone that they’re taking over some of the biggest US crime gangs, the better. The last thing we need is widespread panic. However, since you already know about werewolves, your chief seemed to think it best to transfer you along with your partner. If you’d rather speak to your captain…”

  A shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the midday Memphis sun. “She’ll accept the transfer.”

  “Jarod!” It was all Belle could do not to throw herself into his arms. Damn him and his professional, anyway. Her relief was almost immediately followed by a surge of anger. The bastard had her worried sick, and he was perfectly fine! “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you were dead!”

  “Werewolves are nothing if not resilient.” Miller waved Jarod to the empty seat beside Belle.

  By now Belle knew to expect almost anything from Jarod -- anything but him following the rules. But instead of the tirade she’d expected, Jarod sat down beside her, accepting his folder as if… as if this was just another assignment. As if this was normal. As if anything would ever be normal again.

  Jarod. Calm. Self-assured. Looking like he knew what the hell was going on. It was more than she could take. “What the fuck is happening here!” she shouted at him. At them both. “I wake up, not in the hospital, where any sane woman expects to be after a friggin lunatic pack of Russian werewolves blows up her and her partner along with some warehouse full of -- whatever the fuck was so damn important, anyway? I wake up and find out I’m in the infirmary at the FBI Regional Headquarters -- which, by the way, does not friggin exist! I’ve barely got my Jell-O down when some skinny-ass nurse orders -- orders -- me down here. My clothes are gone. Everything I’m wearing’s got FBI all over it in eight-inch-high letters. And now I find out everyone but me knows everything! I’m sick of being the last to know what the hell’s going on!”

  “Looks like the two of you need to talk.” Miller stood, gathering the files in front of him as he did. “I imagine you have quite a bit to discuss.”

  “Not here,” Jarod growled, tugging Belle to her feet. She stumbled after him down the hallway, his longer strides urgent and almost forcing her to jog to keep up. “This isn’t a peep show, and I know you have that room wired for video and sound.”

  Chapter 4

  Belle’s face flamed. Did the big oaf have to go and mark his territory so blatantly? The whole damned FBI would know he was fucking her before the day was out. If they didn’t already. Was that the only reason she was here? They wanted the werewolf, and he’d told them they were a package deal?

  No, that wasn’t right. Jarod would have been more likely to agree to whatever the feds wanted if they’d promised to keep her out of it. Always trying to protect her. Inwardly, she groaned. What if they had the same rule as the department about sleeping with your partner? Would they split them up?

  “Not on your life.”

  If Jarod could read minds now, she was going to kill him. That was more than she was willing to handle.

  “I’ve always known what you were thinking, and I’m telling you they will not split us up. They can’t.” He paused. “I won’t let them.”

  “God, I need a drink.” Belle’s head ached with the enormity of all she’d learned in the last few hours. Bizarre. It was just all too bizarre. “What the hell do they want with us, anyway?”

  “Werewolf Task Force? What do you think they want?”

  “That explains why they want you. I’m not a werewolf.”

  “I know. They want me to go in undercover. I guess you’re supposed to be my handler or something. Or you can pose as my lover.” They rounded the corner and Jarod shoved her into a closet, locking the door behind them. “They think we can sell it.” He didn’t give her time to protest, but swept her into his arms and found her mouth with his.

  The bitter taste of fear and desperation was strong. Belle was surprised she could distinguish his emotions in a simple kiss, but then, this was Jarod. Almost from the first day she’d met him, she’d had a special connection with him. This was the same thing, only… more. More of everything. The intense love and lust she had for him seemed magnified even more than usual. Perhaps the thought she’d almost lost him had a lot to do with it. She didn’t know. Truthfully, she didn’t care. He was here. Alive and needing her.

  She reached between them, sliding her hand deftly into the waistband of his jeans to find his swollen cock and squeeze. It had been a while, but they had enough of a history for her to know exactly the way he liked it. She squeezed firmly, wrapping her hand around him like a sheath. When he grunted and thrust into her palm, she knew she had the pressure just right.

  He pushed her hand away, but only long enough to strip out of his clothes. Not bothering with finesse, she did the same, shedding the standard issue FBI sweats. He had the good grace not to laugh at the FBI issue sports bra. He was more focused on the sight of her tits spilling out of their tight restraint.

  “Mine!” The growl shouldn’t have surprised her. It reminded her exactly what he’d become and she really should have been scared, but it just made her wet. A thrill raced through her, leaving her weak-kneed with anticipation. He cupped her breast and squeezed gently, pushing the soft weight high as his thumb feathered over her nipple. Tension wound around her tighter and tighter with every movement of his hand, his hips, his mouth.

  Sweeping aside a stack of neatly ordered cleaning supplies from a nearby shelf, Jarod urged her to sit, spreading her legs and holding her thighs open as he dropped to his knees, swiping his tongue over her wet, swollen cunt. There was no way Belle could contain her scream of pleasure. If the whole damned complex heard them, what did she care? Jarod wouldn’t let anyone separate them. She knew that without a doubt now.

  Desperately, Belle clutched his head, grinding her cunt against his mouth. She needed this. Needed
to take what he gave and just… feel. His tongue speared into her, licking and flicking everything he could reach. He pulled back to lavish attention on her clit before plunging in again. By the time he stood and guided his cock to her entrance, she was nearly mindless with the need to come.

  “Fuck me!” she ordered. “I want to feel that cock buried balls-deep in my pussy.”

  “How can I resist when you ask so pretty?” With what might really be superhuman strength, he slammed into her, her back hitting the wall with every thrust of his hips. Already, she could see him growing beyond the bounds of his human body. She felt him shifting this time, saw the change as it swept over him. Frightening. But beautiful. So beautiful. Because whoever -- whatever -- he was, he was still Jarod.

  Her partner. Her lover. He needed her. Now more than ever. And he was still trying to protect her. They’d always had each other’s backs. Nothing would change that. She wouldn’t let it. Wherever the hell he was going, he wasn’t going alone.

  “Harder!” she growled as he pumped into her, his thick girth stretching her with every thrust. “Harder! Make me, Jarod. Make me come.”

  “My mate,” he roared.

  His throaty growl sent heated desire and lust coursing through her. There was no use denying his claim. Hell, she wanted to roar the same exact thing about him. They just belonged together.

  “Yes!” she screamed as she came, her essence flooding over his cock. “Claim me! Make me yours forever!” Only now. Only when he was too far-gone to think did she hiss her command in his ear. “Bite me!”

  * * *

  Deep inside, what was left of his reason screamed at Jarod to stop. But, damn it, he wanted to turn her -- wanted to make her his true mate. It was stupid and selfish, but when she whispered for him to do exactly what his heart had been needing for months, there was no way he could stop himself.

  As he continued to mindlessly sate himself within her tight, wet cunt, Jarod bit down on her shoulder. The coppery taste of her blood hit him hard. Immediately, an intense euphoria overwhelmed him. Her taste was salty, yet sweet, enticing him to hold the essence in his mouth just to let the flavor linger. His mouth watered and he knew that, with every lap of his tongue over her damaged skin, his saliva trickled into the wound. Whatever he’d become, no matter how much he loathed that side of him, she would become the same thing.