Code Wolf

A Were’s forbidden desire tests the limits of loyalty

When Seattle detective and alpha werewolf Derek Miller meets Riley Price, the bond is instant. Feral. Their connection entails enormous risk, for he must keep the existence of his kind secret at all costs. But the forces of darkness have Riley in their sights. Now Derek must choose between the Were code of silence and saving the woman who’s set him on fire.

LINDA THOMAS-SUNDSTROM writes contemporary and paranormal romance novels for Mills & Boon. A teacher by day and a writer by night, Linda lives in the West, juggling teaching, writing, family and caring for a big stretch of land. She swears she has a resident muse who sings so loudly, she often wears earplugs in order to get anything else done. But she has big plans to eventually get to all those ideas. Visit Linda at lindathomas-sundstrom.com or on Facebook.

Also by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

Red Wolf

Wolf Trap

Golden Vampire

Guardian of the Night

Immortal Obsession

Wolf Born

Wolf Hunter

Seduced by the Moon

Immortal Redeemed

Half Wolf

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Code Wolf

Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08219-8

CODE WOLF

© 2018 Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my family, those here and those gone,

who always believed I had a story to tell.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Extract

About the Publisher

Detective Derek Miller howled at the moon...

And that call was answered.

He sprinted down a side street, careful to avoid the stares he’d have received if any of Seattle’s human population saw him all wolfed up. Humans weren’t in on the secrets of his kind, and it was best to keep things that way.

His lethal claws made driving as impossible as ignoring the moon would have been. That big, bright, full moon over his head. Thing was, the claws came in handy on nights like this, when bullets and the usual paraphernalia tied to the justice system wouldn’t take down a supernatural enemy. And there were plenty of enemies like that around.

The air he breathed was pressurized and heavy with the odor of trouble. The enhanced capacities that came with being a werewolf made it all the more intense, when his preference would have been to avoid that smell altogether.

No such luck, though.

Full moons brought out the worst in everyone, no matter what species they belonged to. Who the hell knew the actual reason for that?

The moonlight that ruled Were shapes always made his job tougher—the job he was doing in order to get a jump on bad stuff before it happened. He took to the streets most nights around the moon’s full phases, when the crazies came out to play, even though big moons made keeping his werewolf identity to himself in a city Seattle’s size damn near unmanageable.

When the moon called, Weres obeyed.

Besides the obvious risks of being outed as an Other, working the night shift had its perks. He wasn’t the only Seattle Were in law enforcement, and the bonus of having packmates for backup was important when another species showed up.

Not many folks would have understood about the presence of monsters, the way he and some of his friends did. And though most werewolves didn’t classify themselves as monsters, humans around the world would have if they knew they weren’t the only species sharing the place.

Derek was all right with that, though. He was a good detective and also the alpha of a two-dozen-strong werewolf pack that was helping to clear this city of the morbid creatures stalking it.

Running suited him.

Chasing bad guys suited him.

Tonight, he had a larger body, more muscle and longer hair, which were giveaways of his species. A slightly longer face and more feral features rounded out the look. Still, he might have been recognizable if viewed up close by someone who knew him well enough. And it was a fact that any guy running around Seattle shirtless wasn’t normal even if there was a badge pinned to his belt.

Got to love those perks, though...

He used his enhanced sense of smell to break down scent particles so that he could follow the foul odor blowing in from the eastern part of the city.

That odor was bad news.

Unreleased growls rumbled in his chest like a bad case of heartburn as he inhaled.

Streets in the east were crowded with apartment buildings and lofts in renovated warehouses, where people were piled on top of each other. Singling out the source of that odor there could have been tricky, even for a werewolf. But he had no problem. There was nothing like that particular smell anywhere else. The foulness in the wind had a name, and that name was vampire.

He hated vampires.

Upping his game, Derek ran on legs that seldom tired. Any indication of vamp presence was cause for immediate action, and the packmate that had responded to his call would also be heading this way.

Keeping near to the shadows and squeezing between them, he skirted the public places people frequented on Friday nights, careful to avoid being seen. Detective Derek Miller was a wolf on a mission that required his full attention.

Bloodsucking parasites had become the bane of his existence for two years straight. He must have killed a hundred of them already, but for every one vamp taken down, five more popped up in its place.

Nighttime hours meant snack time for vampires. Old brick exteriors in the eastern portion of Seattle made those buildings easy to climb, and picking off people had become easier for bloodsuckers on the prowl.

Growling again, Derek hopped a curb. His boots were heavy, making stealth difficult. His size didn’t help, either. Still, there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. Because his job was to protect and serve, Derek was already working on a creative reason to explain any human deaths that could possibly occur. Lately, that kind of creativity was not only imperative, but it had also become a full-time job.

Tonight’s moon was going to be the equivalent of a giant dinner bell for fanged parasites. Luckily for this city’s inhabitants, that full moon also gave him a leg up in dealing with them. In werewolf form, Weres were twice as strong as any human and meaner than hell when it came to trespassers with evil intentions.

He didn’t like this, but he was used to the routine.

Come on, bloodsuckers. I know you’re here somewhere.

The odor he had detected became noticeably stronger as he rounded a corner. In case he changed back to a more human form, the gun strapped to his belt was loaded with silver bullets, one of which could take down a vampire if the shooter had good aim.

A small dose of silver to the head or chest would send those undead bastards back to the kind of afterlife they should have been experiencing.

Of course, a sharp wooden stake would also suffice...though a proper staking would require meeting a vampire face-to-face and up close and personal. Which he’d never advise.

Following the fetid trail, Derek slipped into the narrow space between two buildings, where the atmospheric pressure he had noticed earlier got worse. He ended up in an alley that appeared to be deserted, but wasn’t.

The stench he sought had competition here. Overflowing garbage receptacles lined the walls. Beer cans and paper littered the ground. Although there were no artificial lights, broken shards of glass glittered like gems in the thin streams of moonlight shining down from overhead.

Other than his breathing, there was a marked absence of sound. Yet somewhere in all that darkness, among the discarded detritus that could have masked their presence, a couple of pale-faced lunatics hid.

Her pale-faced lunatics. Minions of Seattle’s vampire queen. Two of them, at least, were using this alley for their hidey-hole and probably waiting to do their Master’s bidding.

Got you...

Derek took another deep breath to process the danger. The air here was rife with Otherness that only supernatural beings were attuned to. From experience, he had a good idea these vamps would be fledglings. The degree of foulness saturating the air hinted at this being the case.

There was no mistaking the metallic scent that pointed to the blood meal these vamps had recently ingested. The pair had been sloppy at the dinner table and were coated in the evidence. It was unlikely that their victim, or victims, had survived.

His next growl echoed off the mildewed walls, sounding like thunder.

I met your queen once, he would have told these abominations if he had proper vocal cords in his Were state. I saw your grand dame near here on the night my ex-lover was almost killed.

The thought sickened him to this day.

I know your Master’s name. I’ve seen her face.

He had heard that vampire’s name whispered during a midnight battle with her kind, and afterward had caught a glimpse of the black-haired soulless diva whose talent for drawing every bloodsucker within this city’s boundaries to her side was no joke.

The fanged bitch was like a black widow spider, thriving in her lair while her creepy hordes fed off the living and created an army. Damaris was her name. Most divas only had one.

He owed her a good fight for personal reasons as well as professional, so Derek scanned the darkness with his claws raised, ready to do some damage.

As he waited, Derek adopted a wide stance and slowed his breathing. Seconds passed. The fangers would have to eventually acknowledge his presence, if they dared.

Derek was counting on his formidable appearance to provide an edge. His normal height of six-two stretched upward when he shifted. All that new muscle rippled with anticipation over how this might go down.

He moved his jaw, clenched his teeth. His face might have been more human than wolf, but it wasn’t enough like a human to confuse the two species. It was helpful in this instance that one of Seattle’s most decorated detectives looked like everyone’s worst nightmare.

Come out, you filthy bastards.

Nothing moved. The vampires would be sizing him up and preparing their response. Finding and dealing with them like this was vigilante justice, but justice nevertheless. They couldn’t be allowed to kill more of Seattle’s citizens or break the spell that hid Were existence. For humans, the supernatural world didn’t exist.

His pack and other packs like it policed the shadows, exacting payback on misbehaving monsters that preyed on the humans in this jurisdiction. The goal was to keep the peace and maintain Were secrets, and Derek had taken this goal to a whole new level after the woman he had loved left Seattle because of the influx of monsters.

There was also the fact that his ex-lover hadn’t known about his secret wolfish life and the moon that ruled his kind. But that was history.

His fault.

Long story.

The packmate he had been expecting silently slid into place behind him, barely ruffling the air. Derek didn’t have to turn around to know who this was. Dale Duncan was a fearless cop and no stranger to things that went bump in the night. Officer Duncan was good to have around no matter what outline he presented to the world.

The two of them could have taken on a slew of vampires. These fledglings had to know it. Word traveled fast in underground circles.

Bathed in moonlight, he and Dale stood like sentries near the entrance to the alley. There was nowhere for these bloodsuckers to go. As newbies they’d be full of themselves and energized by their recent kill. Maybe they didn’t yet know about all that ancient enemy shit between Weres and vampires, and that it continued today. Was it possible they believed vampires were the superior species?

When Derek’s packmate growled menacingly, the ground shook. Near the opposite end of the alley, a tin can rolled.

“Monsters have to try to fit in now,” Derek silently chastised. But the warning wouldn’t have done much good if the vamps had heard it.

He added, “Werewolves, for the most part, have evolved alongside our human counterparts and most of the time can fit in with the society surrounding us. You guys have obviously never gotten the memo.”

A slight, sudden wave of extra pressure in the darkness suggested movement. The back of Derek’s neck tingled in acknowledgment of what that meant.

“Any minute now,” Dale messaged.

What Derek failed to mention in all this was his anxiousness over finding himself less than half a block from the building his ex-lover had once occupied—the same building where real vamp trouble in Seattle had begun two years back. His pack had cleaned out this area after that event. Keeping the public from finding out about it had been a cleanup job worthy of the Nobel Prize.

So what the hell had happened?

Why were the vampires back?

Even the smallest twitch was a waste of energy, but Derek rolled his neck to ease some of the tension building there. Waiting made him angry. There were too many memories in and around this place.

When he heard the swish of a swipe of claws, he nodded. Dale had torn holes in his jeans, and the scent of blood filled the air. “Smart move,” Derek messaged. That smell might draw vampires lacking the facts about how bad furred-up werewolves tasted.

However, a positive outcome was never completely assured when dealing with fanged hordes that were almost subliminally fast on their feet and ruled by an outrageous thirst that no one alive could possibly have understood.

Derek dared a quick sideways glance to calculate the exact distance to the building he had often visited in the past in order to court and bed McKenna Randall.

Too damn close.

His nerves buzzed. His skin burned white-hot. Hell, he still missed having a talented bed partner.

“The place is cursed,” Dale messaged to him.

Derek grunted in agreement.

Both of them knew what to expect here. There weren’t going to be any surprises in this alley tonight, hopefully.

To catch more moonlight, Derek took a step forward. Silvery moon particles settled on his bare shoulders like a hot lover’s breath, setting off a series of internal sparks that in turn started a chain reaction. All of that centered on the word anger. And okay, maybe also a more personal need for revenge.

Behind him, Dale was experiencing something similar and waiting for the signal to get this over with.

Tired of playing hide-and-seek, Derek gave that signal.

Chapter 2

Riley Price blinked back an almost supernatural wave of fatigue and unlocked her car without getting in. She leaned briefly against the cool metal of her silver sedan and glanced up at the moon, wondering if she should howl at that big round disc the way werewolves did in the movies.

She sighed instead.

The hours at work this week had been long and tough to get through, leaving little energy for extras no matter how fun those extras could have been. After her first days on the job, she could have used a little jolt of excitement. Listening to other people’s problems day in and day out was exhausting, especially when she had a few fantasies of her own.

Wasn’t that the premier joke about psychologists—that people in this kind of field went into it because of their own need for answers?

The boulevard was crowded with people coming and going at 9:00 p.m. Shouts, laughter and revving car engines nearly drowned out the sound of the keys jangling in her hand.

And there was something else, wasn’t there? Beyond those normal city noises, Riley could have sworn she heard another sound. Something that didn’t quite fit in.

If she hadn’t just thought about howling at the damn moon, she might have imagined that someone else had.

“It sure sounded like that,” she muttered.

The back of her neck chilled. In spite of the common sense she had always been known for, she secretly wished for adventure. It was one of those personal issues she had to deal with. The desire for a little action was probably what was craved by every female who had done her schoolwork straight through and ended up in a job with no break whatsoever.

Riley Price, PhD. Helpful, empathetic, on her way to becoming successful and, these days, quite bland. Bland on the outside, at least. Deep inside her was where her more rebellious ways had always been corralled.

She turned back to the car, opened the door and slid carefully onto the seat, respecting the restriction of her black pencil skirt. But she didn’t get both feet inside before that same eerie, slightly discomforting sound came again from somewhere in the distance.

A wolf’s haunting howl?

“You know you have a vivid imagination,” she reminded herself with a stern head shake. One strange belief too many and she, in spite of all her education in this area, would be in need of a psychiatrist’s comfy couch.

How many times had she thought that she should have become a cop like her father and let out all of her pent-up energy? For cops, the world was viewed in black-and-white terms, without too many murky gray zones. As it was, her need for independence and a life of her own outside of law enforcement had dictated taking another route toward helping people. So here she was, several states away from her family in Arizona, and on her own.

One more head shake ought to do it.

“Wolves in downtown Seattle? Give me a break.”

Feet in the car, key in the ignition, Riley released a slow breath and closed the door, then paused before starting the engine. Opening the door again might have been willful, but she did so anyway. She hoped to hear a repeat of that eerie sound and wished that things didn’t actually have to be black and white in terms of reasonableness and reality.

She shivered at the incoming breeze of cool night air and was overtaken by a sudden onslaught of chills that weren’t related to a change in the weather. Waves of ice dripped down the back of her neck to lay siege to sensitive skin beneath her baby blue sweater. She did hear that howl again, didn’t she?

“I’m sure I did.”

This third sound made it seem like there had been no mistake. Someone had howled. Not something, because everyone knew there were no wolves in the city and no such things as werewolves. So who, like her, was digging into the beauty and mythology of this full moon? Who, like her, had watched a few too many movies that had activated their imagination?

She could try to find out. Chase down those sounds. Meet that person. Though those ideas were intriguing, women weren’t always completely safe on their own in a city the size of Seattle after dark. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the statistics. Fear hadn’t been part of her upbringing, and inquisitiveness was a trait that had been tightly wound into the strands of her DNA. But it wasn’t wise to throw caution to the wind all at once for the sake of folly.

Somewhere out there a human being with a similar sense of fun and fantasy was having one on. Since moving to Seattle, she hadn’t met anyone quite like that. Didn’t that fact alone determine the need for a closer look?