Page 11 of Memphis Heat

The huge, scarred wolf who jumped them was the biggest Jarod had ever seen, his bulk like a flying battleship as he plowed into Jarod’s shoulder.

Still, Jarod would have fought him. He tried to, until Belle’s yelp caught his ears.

He scrambled back to his feet, whirling to face her, find her, knowing even as he turned what he’d see.

A female wolf, larger than Belle’s own lean form, held Belle down, jaws closed around her fur-covered throat.

It wasn’t the time to find out how well that fur would protect her windpipe. Slinking backward, Jarod faced the Alpha who stood over him, waiting. And did what he thought he’d never do. He dropped to his belly and turned, baring the underside of his throat to his enemy.

The big Alpha growled, deep and menacing, then nosed him, hard, pushing Jarod’s head into the dirt. Jarod lay still, waiting. They could have his life. As long as they let Belle go.

The Alpha nosed him again, more gently this time, and somehow Jarod realized that meant something.

He dared to look up, searching not for the Alpha, but for Belle.

The bitch let go of her and stepped back.

Turned his gaze to the Alpha standing over him, Jarod cautiously rolled back to his paws, though still pressed flat to the dirt.

The Alpha nudged him again, prompting him to get up.

He thrust his nose out, indicating the road ahead.

Jarod stood, and Belle moved to him, leaning heavily against his flank, whether to comfort him or because she was hurt, he wasn’t sure.

The Alpha moved off, and they followed, the rest of the pack solid around them.

There was no way they’d escape. Not without fighting off more wolves than even Jarod could take down.

Unlike the downtown location they’d staked out, or the abandoned facilities MPD’d taken over, this place looked clean and well maintained, though several of the units in the small industrial strip appeared to be empty.

The Alpha bitch led the way to the back of the building, leaping easily to the loading dock.

Two semis were parked behind the building, easily accessible to the loading dock.

Jarod’s cop senses went on high alert. What were they shipping in, and why?

When the bitch shifted, the keycard around her neck buzzed her in, and the rest of the pack pushed through the loading bay doors as soon as she hit the switch.

The inside was nothing like Jarod would have expected.

It really was what it appeared to be -- a small warehouse.

Dozens of open shipping kennels lined the far wall, all empty.

The center aisles were stacked with crates.

They skirted a forklift, making their way to the front office area, all but the bitch still in wolf form.

Not good. So not good. No way out of this from here.

Jarod hoped like hell his tracking pellet was picking up on the FBI monitors.

Assuming anyone was actually scanning for the damn thing.

The whole FBI plan of attack had been pretty vague.

“Infiltrate the pack.” How the hell were they supposed to do that?

Evidently by getting his neck broken by the biggest fucking canine Jarod had ever seen. Of all the fucking FBI screw ups…

The colonel had warned him when they took the FBI assignment. “Don’t trust ‘em, son. Any info you get, those FBI boys’ll be right there, hands out, but you get in trouble, you’re on your own out here. Play their game, but watch your back.”

The pack backed off now, forming a circle around the perimeter of the front conference room, leaving them alone with the Alpha in the center of the carpeted floor. The Alpha circled them slowly, sniffing, as if puzzled by their scent. He yipped once, then sat down on his haunches.

The shift came fast and smooth, so sudden it almost took Jarod by surprise. “You smell like Pack. But I don’t know you.” The voice fit the man -- low and gravelly, with only a hint of his native accent.

Jarod shifted to his human form, the move nowhere near as fast or as smooth as the Alpha’s had been.

He still shuddered slightly at the sound of bones popping as his muzzle shrunk back into his head.

He cracked his neck, adjusting the fit of his jaw before he answered.

“You know every wolf, then?” Damn good thing they’d ditched the FBI sweats.

He had to play this very carefully. Just enough truth to keep the man interested, but not enough to blow his cover.

The best strategy was to sprinkle the small lies in with the truths.

Once he had his prey hooked, he’d drop the whopper and reel him in. He hoped.

The big man stood, seemingly not bothered by his own nudity in the least. In human form, the white lightning scar that had bisected his face cleaved his right eyebrow in two. Whatever had happened, it was a miracle he hadn’t lost his eye.

The Alpha held out a hand, and one of the wolves from the circle surrounding them dragged over a worn pair of jeans.

With a fluid grace that should have been impossible for a man his size, he stepped into them, zipping the jeans but not bothering with the button at the waist. Jarod noted the little tidbit for later.

Could the Alpha not shift while clothed?

Or had he simply been naked when the need to shift took him?

“I know my family.” He leaned closer to Jarod and inhaled deeply, his eyes never leaving Jarod’s. “You smell like cop.”

“Was. Not now.”

“What are you now?”

“Unemployed. Getting by as best we can. MPD’s disability package doesn’t cover getting your face ripped off by a werewolf.”

The Russian Alpha barked out a humorless laugh. “Not make you any prettier, either. You smell like Dolf.” His eyebrows knitted together. “Dolf’s dead. You are his whelp?”

OK. Time for a bit of truth. “I have no idea who made me, but the bastard is probably still in the city morgue. Or maybe six feet under by now.”

“Ah, so he turned you before he was killed.”

Jarod thought about sprinkling in a little bit of untruth, but something in the other man’s eyes made him think better of it. He scratched his forearm absently. “No. I got off a lucky shot and he bled out on me.”

The big Alpha yipped a short laugh, confirming Jarod’s suspicion. The Alpha had known Jarod had killed Dolf. “Dolf was always an idiot.” He instantly sobered. “I’m not.”

Jarod was beginning to understand why this man was the Alpha. He hated to admit it, but the Alpha intimidated the hell out of him. Looking back, Jarod understood why he hadn’t hesitated to show his belly. This was one badass wolf, and Jarod’s wolf self had recognized the ruthlessness in him.

“Tell me. What were you doing when Dolf attacked you?”

Now the truth sprinkled with a hint of a lie. “Following him. We’d heard there was a big drug deal going down and your Dolf person was a major player.” Jarod scratched at his forearm, a little harder this time.

The Alpha seemed to consider it, giving nothing away with his expression or his tone of voice. “So Dolf, he attacks you, and you shoot him.”

“He threatened to take my woman when I was dead. I didn’t care about dying.

My only concern was making sure the bastard didn’t get what was mine.

Nobody touches my woman.” Another truth.

Jarod bared his teeth for emphasis. He had to be sure the Alpha knew he meant business about Belle.

They’d be able to use it against him later, but he had a feeling these people would respect him for it.

The Alpha grunted. “Understandable.” He seemed to regard Jarod, weighing his responses thoughtfully. “And what, exactly, are you doing in my territory?”

The trick was to make the lie believable while diverting the Alpha from what he already perceived as a threat.

Scratching at his forearm again, without letting his gaze waver from the Alpha’s, he said, “We’re trying to survive.

The MPD doesn’t want us back. They’d probably kill us if they found us, and we have no idea how to stay alive.

You guys seem to be the only game in town. ”

This time, when Jarod scratched at his forearm, the Alpha caught his hand. “You seem to have a problem, little man. Fleas?”

The pack roared at the Alpha’s joke, but the Alpha only looked at Jarod. Jarod glanced down at the forearm he’d been scratching since the ordeal began. “Huh?”

“You keep scratching. I was afraid you had an infestation.”

“Not that I know of. I hadn’t really noticed until you said something. But come to think of it” -- he narrowed his eyes, raising the offending arm to examine it more closely --”it’s been itching since I woke up from my… injury.”

The Alpha snatched his forearm and yanked Jarod to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod saw Belle lunge toward him, but he shook his head, warning her off.

With a swipe of one claw, the Alpha sliced open Jarod’s arm and dug into the spot where the FBI tracking pellet was embedded in his skin.

He had to suppress a groan of pain, but he managed, never taking his eyes from the Alpha. Showing weakness was not an option.

The Alpha held the tiny pellet between his thumb and forefinger, blood coating the little metal object.

With disgust, he dropped it on the ground.

Ripping off the lid of the nearest crate, he pulled out a handgun -- looked like a Beretta -- and smashed the pellet with the butt, using the metal frame between the grips like a hammer. “Bring me the woman!”

“No one touches my woman!” Jarod growled, bracing himself for battle.

“You think your Memphis cop pals, they only track you?”

Jarod backed off a little, still snarling. “Belle, you got a tracker under your skin?”

Belle growled, shifting to her human form to answer him. “There’s something. Behind my ear. I’ve tried scratching at it, but I’m not so good with my back paws yet. I fell over.”

Jarod tried not to laugh, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. Belle was damn good at this. Jarod reached for her ear. “Let me see.”

“Give her to me!” the Alpha barked. This time there was no ignoring the order.

Belle stepped forward, pulling her hair out of the way, baring her throat, unconsciously or not, as she bent her neck for the Alpha’s inspection.

One fast slice removed the tracker. The Alpha shoved Belle back to Jarod, beating the tracker to small metal flakes with a roar of anger.

“The whole damned warehouse is compromised! Get the trucks loaded. Pack everything. We go!” There was an immediate flutter of activity as some of them shifted and began the task of loading all the guns and ammo while others ran off to…

do other bad guy wolf things. All of them keeping a close eye on Jarod and Belle, no matter what their task.

He turned back to Jarod. “You are lucky I believe you, little man. Otherwise, I would have ripped out your throat. And your woman’s.”

No one had ever called Jarod little before. Not since he was a kid. But compared to the bulk of the Alpha… “Hey. You were the one who brought us here. We just needed a little guidance.”

“A mistake I will not repeat.” Again, he looked Jarod up and down, assessing. “Do you wish to learn from us, cop?”

“Absolutely,” Jarod replied without pause. “My name’s Jarod. And my mate is Belle.”

The Alpha’s second in command, a beta only slightly smaller than the huge, scarred wolf, stepped forward, shifting as he did so. He, too, was naked. “I don’t like this, Alexi. This one is weak. He surrendered without a fight. The pair can only be a liability.”

The Alpha, Alexi, shrugged. “If you don’t like him, challenge him, Viktor.

I have accepted him, but as my second, you have the right to deny him.

If you can beat him.” Alexi smiled, more a show of teeth than a real smile.

“I have a feeling, though, there is more to this little man and his mate than meets the eye.”

With a blindingly fast movement, Viktor launched himself at Jarod.

He’d obviously only been waiting for the blessing of his leader.

Jarod ducked, shifting as quickly as he could, turning to face Viktor where he’d leapt between him and Belle.

Apparently, Viktor’s strategy was to use Belle as a hostage, to make Jarod wary about attacking for fear of harming Belle. It was a fatal mistake.

The moment he turned his back on Belle, she launched herself at Viktor, wrapping her arms around his head in a choke hold and her legs around his waist for added leverage.

Jarod advanced, jaws open, teeth bared under snarling lips.

At the very last second, Belle let go of Viktor, and Jarod’s jaws snapped closed around the man’s throat.

With one swift yank, Jarod ripped open the flesh, spraying blood everywhere.

The pack went wild. Howls and yelps and snarls erupted all over the warehouse, drowning out Viktor’s death gurgles. Afraid he’d overplayed their hand, Jarod put his back to Belle’s, crouching and preparing to fight.

“ Silence !” Alexi bellowed, his voice carrying every ounce of authority he had as Alpha of this pack.

Jarod shivered. How the hell were they going to survive this? A surprise attack against Viktor was one thing. But Alexi? Eventually, he’d have to fight Alexi, and he was not looking forward to that.

“They are part of the pack now. Jarod and his woman, Belle. Having defeated Viktor, Jarod is now my second. Belle is his mate. No one will touch either of them. Or you will answer to me.”

Jarod almost fell on his ass with that one. Second? Fuck!

“Pack everything. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

Surprisingly, the pack settled and went about preparing for the move. Jarod didn’t dare look at Belle. It would be hard to keep the triumphant, if bemused, look from his face if he did. Second . How the fuck had he managed that?

Oh, well. He knew what they said about looking gift horses in the mouth.

He wasn’t going to question the little good luck that had finally come his way.

With just a little more, maybe he could pull this assignment together and wrench a miracle out of his ass by making sure both he and Belle actually survived.