Taming the Moon. Sherrill Quinn

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ father had just done what I’d asked—begged!—things might have been different.”

      He trailed off, seeming to be lost in his thoughts. After a moment he shrugged. “Never mind. It’s not something you need to know.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, eyes hard. “All you need to know is that for your daughter to remain safe you have a job to do.”

      Eyeing the distance between them, Olivia wondered if she could catch him off guard long enough to kill him. She could morph her fingers into claws now, just like he did. She might be able to do it.

      It would only take one quick slash across the throat.

      But then what about Zoe? There was at least one bodyguard standing outside her door, his bulk casting a shadow onto the floor of the hallway.

      Olivia briefly closed her eyes. She’d never be able to do it. She couldn’t kill Eddy and go for the bodyguard before he could get to Zoe.

      She had no other choice. She must finish the job she’d been given.

      Thinking back over the last few days, she remembered her first impression of Rory Sullivan. Tall, dark, and dangerous.

      An earnest protector.

      Sexy as hell. But…

      He had to die.

      Chapter 1

      Detective Chief Inspector Rory Sullivan chased the rape suspect down the paved pathway in London’s Battersea Park, a sense of euphoria he’d never before experienced lending strength and speed to his strides. He had never run this fast, never felt like he could keep running without tiring.

      On one level Sully realized it was his new werewolf metabolism that enhanced his abilities. And even as he appreciated that aspect of his…condition, the fact that he also felt a nearly overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into the man, to feel his hot, rich blood course down his throat didn’t escape him.

      He hated himself for it. He hated his erstwhile friend Declan O’Connell for getting him into this mess in the first place.

      And he hated the one who had turned him. If he ever found out who it was, if he ever had an opportunity to kill the bastard, he’d take it.

      He didn’t know anything about being a werewolf, but one thing his instincts told him: werewolf justice was swift. And final. He couldn’t wait to exact his own on his maker.

      He increased his speed, his heightened sense of hearing picking up the sound of the suspect’s labored breathing, the thud of shoes on the paved walkway, the shouts of the other officers giving chase.

      A snarl worked its way free of his throat. The team couldn’t have the creep. The sodding lowlife was his.

      Sully launched himself through the air and brought the man down onto the pavement. He flipped him over, taking care to keep the man’s lower body under control so the bastard wouldn’t get a chance to knee him in the nuts.

      Though the son of a bitch tried anyway.

      Rage exploded through Sully’s skull, making his eyes burn, his teeth ache. A pulse pounded in his throat. Through a haze of crimson he saw the rape suspect’s eyes widen, the pupils dilating with fear.

      Ah. Fear.

      Sully drew in a deep breath and held it, savoring the ethereal essence of that tangy emotion.

      “What are you, man?” The rapist struggled beneath him, hands and feet scrabbling for traction on the rough pavement. Blood seeped from scrapes on his cheek and chin, drawing Sully’s gaze there.

      His nostrils flared with his indrawn breath. Beneath the stench of marijuana and fear was something else. Something good.

      God, this guy smelled…

      Like food.

      And this puppy was hungry.

      Sully brought his gaze back to the suspect’s and leaned closer.

      Wide eyes focused on Sully’s face. “Your eyes…” His gaze drifted down to Sully’s mouth.

      Sully grinned and ran his tongue over the tip of elongated canines. He’d never been one to play with his food before he’d become a werewolf, but now he was finding it could be fun.

      “What the fuck are you?” The suspect’s voice choked to silence as Sully tightened his hands around the man’s throat.

      From a distance Sully heard someone call his name, then again. “Sully?” Footsteps crunched along the pathway, gaining speed. “DCI Sullivan!”

      The horrified alarm in the newcomer’s voice drew Sully away from the wolf and back to himself. He drew in another breath, this time a calming one, and pushed the beast back. He couldn’t help giving one last squeeze of his fingers around the rapist’s throat, then pushed away from him and stood. He walked a few paces away, his back to the group of uniformed officers who swarmed over the babbling suspect.

      He scrubbed shaking hands over his face. Now that the euphoria of the adrenaline rush was fading, he was appalled at his loss of control. One minute he’d been chasing the suspect on foot, the next he’d tackled him to the ground and had been ready—with incredible eagerness—to tear into the man’s throat.

      One thing he had always prided himself on was his ability to not let criminals get under his skin, not allow them to prod a response from him. Calm and cool, that was DCI Sullivan.

      Not anymore.

      God. What kind of hell had Declan brought him into?

      From behind him he heard the slide of restraints being fastened around the suspect’s wrists, the scuffle of feet as the man was led away.

      “What the hell was that all about?” Detective Constable Aubrey Lindstrom moved in front of Sully. “You return from holiday and start attacking suspects?”

      Sully closed his eyes until the burning stopped. Once they felt normal again—once he felt normal again, or as close to normal as possible—he opened them to see Lindstrom standing there, a muscle twitching in his jaw, waiting for a response.

      “It’s nothing.”

      “Nothing?” Lindstrom glanced over Sully’s shoulder, then pointed toward the departing police cars. “That bloke is going to tell everyone who will listen that you tried to kill him.” His pale blue eyes held a mixture of confusion and frustration. “This is me you’re talking to, Sully. Remember? The guy who sees through bullshit?”

      DC Lindstrom had a knack for ascertaining when someone was lying—whether it was a suspect or a man he’d worked with for nearly ten years. But Sully couldn’t very well tell him what had happened to him on holiday. For one, he wouldn’t believe it.

      For another thing, it meant potentially exposing his friends as well, which he wouldn’t do.

      Even if he wanted to break every bone in Declan’s body, it wouldn’t change anything. Something told him this was a secret better kept than exposed.

      If СКАЧАТЬ