Book 1 - Page 14 (1/2)

The sound drew Adam's attention from the body to the boy at my feet.

He growled. ”This one isn't one of mine-and neither is that.”

”So gracious,” I said. ”Your mother should be complimented on your manners, Hauptman.”

”Careful,” he whispered. It wasn't a threat, it was a warning.

Okay. He was scary. Really scary. He'd probably have been scary even when he was just a human. But it wouldn't do to let him know he intimidated me.

”Adam Hauptman,” I said politely to show him how it was done. ”Allow me to introduce you to Mac-that's all of his name I know. He was attacked by a werewolf in Chicago about two moons ago. The werewolf killed his girlfriend, but he survived. He was taken by his attacker and put in a cage. A man who sounds a lot like the Chicago Alpha Leo sold him to someone who held him inside a cage in a semitrailer and used him for what sounds like some sort of drug experiments until he broke free. Last Friday he showed up at my door looking for work.”

”You didn't inform me that you had a strange wolf on your doorstep?”

I gave him a put-upon sigh. ”I am not one of your pack members, Adam. I know this is difficult for you to fathom, so I'll speak slowly: I don't belong to you. I am under no obligation to tell you anything.”

Adam swore harshly. ”New werewolves are dangerous, woman. Especially when they are cold and hungry.” He looked at Mac, and his voice changed completely, the heat and anger gone. ”Mercy, come here.”

I didn't look down to see what he'd noticed in Mac's face. I took a step, but Mac was wrapped around my left leg. I stopped before I fell. ”Uhm. I'm a little stuck for the moment.”

”For a smart girl, you're pretty stupid sometimes,” he said, his voice rich and gentle so as not to startle the werewolf by my side. ”Locking yourself in a garage with a new wolf and a dead body isn't the smartest thing you could have done. I don't have a connection with him yet. It would help if you have his real name.”

”Mac,” I murmured. ”What's your name?”

”Alan,” he said dreamily, coming up to his knees so his face was pressed against my belly. ”Alan MacKenzie Frazier after my grandfather who died the year I was born.” The friction of his movement rucked my s.h.i.+rt up and he licked my bare skin. To an outsider it might have looked sensual, but the abdomen is a vulnerable spot on the body, a favorite of predators. ”You smell good,” he whispered.

He smelled like werewolf, and I was starting to panic-which wasn't a very useful thing to do.

”Alan,” said Adam, rolling the name on his tongue. ”Alan MacKenzie Frazier, come here to me.”

Mac jerked his head away from me but tightened his arms painfully on my hips. He looked at Adam and growled, a low rumble that caused his chest to vibrate against my leg.

”Mine,” he said.

Adam's eyes narrowed. ”I don't think so. She is mine.”