Angela Knight - Over The Moon

The question was, did Elena have the right to ask him to do it? Stephen didn't play around, and he was obviously out for blood even before he knew Lucas was in the picture. Once he did…

Take two Alpha males, add a female in her Burning Moon, and you had a prescription for bloodshed.

Dammit, Elena thought, disgusted with herself, she was a descendent of Wulfgar. If she had half the guts she was supposed to, she'd leave Lucas out of it and find some way to take care of Stephen herself.

Trouble was, Elena was simply no match for an Alpha. For one thing, she didn't have the combat skills, despite her earlier success. Stephen would mop up the floor with her, and he'd do it with no compunction whatsoever. Even aside from the effects of the Burning Moon, she'd disobeyed her father, the Alpha of the Livingston clan. In Stephen's eyes, she deserved whatever he did to her. Most of the Chosen, male and female alike, would agree.

The rest of the Direkind might have a different attitude, but they also wouldn't involve themselves in Chosen business. The Direkind's aristocracy kept to themselves and policed themselves, and those of the lower classes kept their muzzles out of it.

Hopefully, Candice was right and Lucas would feel differently.

Elena drummed her fingers restlessly on the wheel. What if Lucas turned out to be too much a concerned Alpha? What if he refused to accept the role she had in mind for him and sought to dominate her as Stephen had? The last thing she needed was another male trying to force his will down her throat.

One problem at a time, Elena . If Lucas tried to give her a hard time, she'd find a way to deal with him, too. She was through being a victim.

A flash of movement in her rearview mirror. Elena shot it a look and breathed a curse. Something big and black, coming up fast from behind.

Stephen's Hummer.

"Dammit," she swore, and stomped on the gas. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

Elena swerved around an aged blue Geo Prism barely doing the speed limit, then flashed past an eighteen-wheeler. The Hummer shot after her with a sinister roar.

Bloody hell, she'd hoped to have time to approach Lucas before Stephen caught up to her, but it looked as if that wasn't going to happen.

Her only chance now was to head for the Harrisville Police Department and pray the presence of all those humans would give Stephen pause. It was strictly forbidden to use Direkind powers around humans. Disobeying that taboo was grounds for execution.

Zipping into the left-hand lane, Elena floored the Ferrari, which responded with a deep growl of power. Daring a glance in her rearview mirror, she saw the Hummer lumber after her.

"Bastard," she breathed, before jerking the wheel to the right. The Ferrari bolted across the right-hand lane and down the Harrisville exit ramp, barely missing the bumper of the eighteen-wheeler. The Hummer's brakes shrieked an instant later. Elena winced, hoping he hadn't triggered an accident. Stephen's Direkind reflexes would keep him out of real trouble, but the humans around him wouldn't be so lucky.

She listened as she turned left onto Heron Avenue. No crash, thank God, but no sound of the Hummer's engine either. With any luck, he'd overshot the exit and would have to backtrack.

With a sigh of relief, Elena dropped to a more sedate speed and headed for the police department. She really couldn't afford to get pulled over.

She'd barely gone two blocks before she looked up to see the Hummer in her rearview mirror. Oh, hell .

Fifteen minutes later…

Lieutenant Lucas Rollings strode from the Harrisville Police Department with a sense of grim satisfaction. There was nothing like snapping the cuffs on a killer.

Joseph Bishop had gone sheet white when Lucas had confronted him with the evidence that afternoon. The case against Bishop was steel-trap solid, right down to the blood stains in the car trunk and his DNA under his wife's fingernails. The son-of-a-bitch had known he'd be lucky to avoid the death penalty for Mary Bishop's death. And Lucas intended to make sure he paid with his—

"Back off, Stephen!" The female snarl jolted Lucas from his thoughts. He jerked his head around. In the parking lot twenty yards away, a slender woman struggled with a tall, blond man beside a red Ferrari. A huge black Hummer was parked directly behind the sports car, blocking it in.

Lucas took in the situation with a single experienced glance. Oh, hell. Stalker. This could get ugly . He started toward them.

The man cooly drew back a hand and slapped his captive hard across the face. Red hair flew as she cried out in pain.

"Hey!" Lucas roared, breaking into a run as the man grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Get lost," the stalker snapped, without looking around. "This is none of your business."

"I'm the police, jackass. Let her go !" He stiff-armed the man back just as the woman tore free.

"Forget it, Stephen," the victim growled. "I'm not going anywhere with you." Her voice was much deeper than it should be, rumbling at a register more animal than human. Yet her face was delicate, fragile, like her lithe, long-legged body.

The blond pressed closer despite Lucas's restraining hand, grabbed her by one wrist, and started hauling her backward toward the Hummer. She threw herself back, trying to dig in her sneakered feet.

"Are you nuts, asshole?" Lucas slammed a hard blow against the man's elbow. It should have broken the bastard's grip, but he held fast and kept going, completely ignoring Lucas. "Let her go!"

"Stay out of this!"

Lucas grabbed him by the collar of his expensive shirt and slammed him into the hood of the Hummer.

"You touch that girl one more time, and…" He broke off in mid-sentence. Beneath the scents of toothpaste, the man's expensive cologne, and the woman's shampoo lay a familiar scent. A blend of forest and fur…

Deep inside Lucas, something stirred in ancient recognition. Oh, God. Werewolves . Both of them.

To make matters worse, the female's scent was also laced with pure sex. Lucas could feel his own body responding, his cock twitching and lengthening as it went hard as a rifle barrel.

Sweet Jesus , he realized, she's in werewolf heat .

Lucas had never encountered a Direkind female during her Burning Moon. It had only been a few years since he'd been Bitten, and there were no other werewolves in Harrisville.

Still, Ray Johnston had told him enough about the fuzzy facts of life to make clear he'd just stumbled waist-deep into serious shit. The Burning Moon was going to play merry hell with everybody's temper—including Lucas's. That big blond male was going to want a fight.

And considering the braise he could see blooming on the girl's patrician cheek, Lucas was in the mood to give it to him.

"Lucas Rollings?" The redhead's throaty voice jolted him out of his preoccupation. He met her gaze to find her staring at him with a kind of desperate hope. "Are you Lieutenant Lucas Rollings?"

She knew him? Comprehension dawned. She came here looking for me .

Their eyes locked in an instant of startled mutual awareness. Hers were a deep, vibrant green, like spring leaves. Something in them was so intensely female, his body responded with a silent masculine ramble he felt all the way to the bone. It went beyond the Burning Moon, beyond simple chemistry. It was…

Magic.

And judging from the way her eyes flared wide, she felt it, too.

But that was ridiculous. He didn't believe in love at first sight. Not even the fuzzy kind. Even if the wolf in him was almost purring in anticipation…

"Elena, you bitch !" Stephen reared in his grip.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Lucas clamped a hand around the Shifter's jaw and shoved him back against the Hummer's hood. "Back. Off !"