Chernobyl Werewolf (Team Greywolf 3)

“Seven feet, maybe more.” The officers gave each other a look; a flicker of humor crossed their eyes, as if dealing with a nut job. “I mean on its hind legs it was that height.” Rachel waited for them to ask her if she’d been smoking something or doing drugs but they humored her in their polite Southern manner.

“Well, ma’am, Officer Dugas will check outside. I’ll check for footprints.”

He wrinkled his brow and followed a muddied trail of large footprints halfway down the hall.

Her eyes widened as he shone his flashlight over the immense prints.

“Human print. Must have left when he heard the siren.”

Now you have to believe me. Rachel nodded in triumph.

Officer Dugas returned. “No animal prints outside.”

The other cop shook his head. “Odd.” He spoke into his radio and called

for another patrol car to search for a man, barefoot and wearing a werewolf costume.

“What? It’s not Halloween.”

“You are new to New Orleans?”

“I moved in three weeks ago.”

“All sorts of New Year’s celebrations are going on tonight. Trust me, after ten years here, I’ve seen just about everything.”

They walked to the kitchen, the chill evening air coming through the open back door. Great. She should have gone with Maggie. Her first night alone, and she’d have to explain how she left the door unlocked and someone entered.

He turned. “Smells like…”

“Shit! I mean pizza.” Rachel opened the oven and fanned out the smoke. Fortunately, the smoke alarm had not gone off. “My pizza burnt.” At least it didn’t cause a fire. A break in would freak Maggie out, but her granny’s home going up in flames would have ruined a good friendship. She donned hot mitts and took the sheet straight to the sink and dumped it.

The officers finished their investigation and advised her to keep all doors locked. She felt like such a fool.

Rachel cleaned up the muddy floors. The cops had taken pictures. No need to save the evidence. She went to each room and made sure every window was closed and all doors to the outside locked. Intruder proof or at least the façade of security. Nothing could stop someone from coming in. At least the rain had stopped. In fact, the sky had cleared.

Her stomach growled. The rush of adrenaline and hours since her last meal added to her misery. Why not find a nice restaurant and celebrate the New Year? She checked her watch. Seven-thirty. Long before the stroke of midnight. Not that she had anyone to kiss on New Year’s, but she would wear something nice. A long sleeved black cocktail dress. Who knows, maybe a handsome guy would buy her a drink?

Lev had never felt so foolish. He nearly scared Rachel to death. He’d not meant to bother her. However, his wolf had other ideas. Claiming his mate turned into a struggle between man and wolf. He thought just a few minutes would satisfy his wolf. Take off the edge. Instead, it backfired. This time his wolf had almost won the battle. To make matters worse, he’d shifted to human form. To explain he only came to make sure she was okay. How would he have explained his nakedness? Her scent of pure terror broke his heart and brought his wolf under control.

She’d dialed the police. At the sound of sirens, he dashed out, not bothering to clean his muddy prints.

Making sure Rachel didn’t see him; he donned the clothes he hid behind a hedge. As much as he hated using his alpha mind control, he’d no choice but to convince the good police officers to forget the footprint evidence. He heard the click of their camera. At their squad car, he held their gazes, a task he’d perfected. Lev deleted the pictures from the camera. They left the scene, no memory of finding evidence of any intruder in their heads.

Lev had not checked into his French Quarter hotel. He walked several blocks away and cancelled his stay. Better not to tempt the wolf.

Dressed in casual jeans, shirt and black leather coat, he thought he’d come in, check on her, make her forget he visited and then get on the next plane back to Montana.

Lev straightened his leather coat and knocked on the door. No answer. Just the lingering smell of burnt pizza. He tilted his head to listen. She’d left.

Lev growled. She’d gone out in this crazy city in the middle of the night. Alone. Unprotected. He flared his nostrils and easily caught her glorious aroma. He pushed through the busy streets of New Year’s Eve revelers, drunken tourists and performers. The noise threatened to shatter his ear drums. How he missed the quiet stillness of the boreal forests.

Lev paused in front of a quaint yet elegant restaurant, Rachel had entered. He walked in and glanced at the menu, trying not to look desperate. The meal costs pricy. The Creole inspired mural art, exquisite. An expensive restaurant. Just his taste. He smiled. Shouldn’t be hard to convince her I was just here for a day on business. I’ll make sure she is safe, and then leave.

A jazz piano musician played a lively tune that reminded him of turn of the century music. The place was packed. No surprise. Tonight was New Year’s Eve.

There. Lev gaped at the beautiful blonde sitting alone at the bar. Her golden locks were swept up on her head, exposing a porcelain delicate neck. His gaze roamed from her neck to her perfectly round petite ass. She nursed a martini. He stiffened. Was she waiting for a date? According to Natalya, she’d moved in with a girlfriend. No boyfriend. Slow rage built inside him. Mine. His fierce wolf proved relentless in his desire to kill any man who dared claim her. Yet, she could never be his.

Had he made a mistake coming? He turned to leave, but then paused. Best to wait until her date arrived. Whoever he was, he would see to it she got home safely. He raged. Nyet. This man would stay the night.