Angela Knight - Over The Moon

She wasn't supposed to feel like this. It was one thing to regret using him. But this intense… attraction wasn't part of the plan. It made her feel out of control, and she'd been out of control more than enough as it was.

He started asking questions, and she answered mechanically—her name, her address, Stephen's name and address. Typing her answers into his computer, Lucas didn't appear to recognize either surname. Which might just be an act for the humans' benefit, since they were the two most powerful Chosen families in the South. If nothing else, there was always plenty of gossip going around about the Livingstons and the Bradfords.

Then again, Harrisville was hardly a center of Direkind culture. The three of them were probably the only werewolves for miles.

"So Mr. Bradford considers himself your fianci?"

"He and my father have some kind of agreement. But I haven't said yes, and I don't intend to."

"Do you live together?" As she stiffened, Lucas explained, "If you share a residence, I can charge him with domestic violence under South Carolina law. Otherwise it's assault and battery."

"No, we don't live together. I've got my own place in Atlanta." Or she had, until her father used his illness to guilt her into moving back into the family mansion. If she'd had any idea what Richard had in mind, she'd never have come anywhere near Charleston.

"What brings you to Harrisville?"

You . Which was not an answer that belonged in his report. She shrugged and lied. "I was passing through. Stephen followed me, so when I spotted your department, I pulled in. I was hoping he'd leave me alone, but he didn't."

Lucas frowned, his mouth pulling into a surprisingly sensual line. "Assault and battery is a misdemeanor in this state. The most he could get is thirty days in the county jail, and it's doubtful a judge would even sentence him to that much. It's a lot more likely he'll just have to pay a two-hundred-dollar fine. Which means he'll be able to sign a personal recognizance bond and get out of jail in four hours or so."

Damn. She'd hoped they'd keep him locked up at least overnight. She badly needed a break before she took Stephen on again.

"But since he attacked and threatened you in a police department parking lot in front of a cop, I can argue that he's dangerous. I'm going to request a formal bond hearing, with the Solicitor's Office sending a prosecutor to argue for a higher bond." The Solicitor's Office was the South Carolina version of a District Attorney, handling all state prosecution for a given area. "Now, since it's Friday night after five, nobody will be available to do that until Monday morning. That gives us a little time to discuss this and decide what to do."

All weekend. She had all weekend to put her plan into action. "Thank God." Taking a deep breath, Elena met his dark gaze again. "So, what now?"

He shrugged. "I'm going to have to talk to Mr. Bradford, get his side for the report. Then after that, I'll escort you to your hotel."

"Actually…" Elena dropped her voice to a pitch she was fairly sure none of the humans could overhear. "A hotel isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"No?" Heat leaped in his eyes, rich with masculine anticipation. Her own body warmed in response.

"No." Elena swallowed and added hoarsely, "I'd rather go home with you. I'd feel… safer."

"Safer?" A dark smile curved his lips. "Are you sure?"

She found herself smiling back at him.

"If you touch her, I'll kill you," Stephen Bradford said.

Lucas looked up to meet the Direwolf's icy gaze with one just as cold. "You want me to add threatening a public official to the charges, Bradford?"

The man's nostrils flared like a furious wolf's. "Hiding behind that badge buys you only a few hours at most. My lawyer…"

"… Is shit out of luck, because I just spoke to the Solicitor's Office, and they don't have anybody available to present the case until Monday."

"Coward!"

"That's rich, coming from you. What are you, 210, 220? Elena weighs 120 tops. Bet hitting her made you feel real manly, didn't it?" Good thing the detective's division had emptied out for the night by the time he'd brought Bradford up for questioning. They didn't have to worry about being overheard. Leaning forward, Lucas locked eyes with the Direwolf. "You want to take me on? Name the time and the place. I'll be more than happy to teach you how it feels to be on the receiving end of a fist."

"I'm not a schoolboy, mongrel. I don't exchange punches. We fight in Direwolf form until one of us goes down and doesn't get up." Bradford showed his elegant teeth. "Unless you want to back out?"

"Oh, no. I fully intend to send you to that big doghouse in the sky."

The Direwolf's patrician nostrils flared. "My second will be in touch with yours—assuming you've got one." His tone indicated doubt that Lucas had any friends at all, much less one willing to stand for him in a duel.

"I've got one." Knowing Ray Johnston, he'd be happy to help. Ray hated the Chosen anyway. They'd need a judge too; Ray would know which Charlotte clan official to call. "We'll see you and your second after the bond hearing Monday."

"In the meantime…" Bradford gave him an threatening glare and dropped his voice to a lethal whisper. "Don't get involved in whatever scheme Elena's hatching. She's a descendent of Wulfgar, and her father won't stand for her bearing any whelp of yours."

Lucas stared at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You." Bradford curled his lip in revulsion. "And her."

Jesus. More weird werewolf shit. "First, I just met the woman an hour ago. We're not exactly going to be hopping into bed, Burning Moon or no Burning Moon. And second, in the unlikely event she did get pregnant, what could her daddy do about it—force her to go to a clinic?"

"You are ignorant, aren't you?" Outright contempt curled the Direwolf's mouth. "Mongrel."

"At least I don't beat women in parking lots like a drunken redneck." Lucas's mother had been on the receiving end of more than one parking-lot beating. God, he hated guys like this.

"I barely touched her!"

Lucas curled his lip. "Funny how blue-blood werewolves spout the same shit as every other abusive asshole I've ever locked up." And every one of my so-called "stepfathers ." Sue Rollings's taste in men had seriously sucked.

"This is not the same thing!" Bradford sat back, visibly reining in his rage. His tone leveled into patient condescension. "Elena has a duty to obey her clan Alpha—who is also her father—but she ran away instead. Richard Livingston told me to bring her back. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Elena's twenty-seven years old, and she's an American citizen. She doesn't have to obey Daddy anymore, and she sure as hell doesn't have to obey you."

"You don't understand—she has a responsibility." Bradford leaned forward again as his cold blue eyes began to shine with a fanatic's fervor. "Those of us who are Chosen live by traditions of duty and honor that go back centuries. Without those traditions, we're no better than the humans."

"News flash, Bradford—you're not better than the humans. Most humans don't beat the shit out of people just because they're smaller and weaker."

"Don't be such a sanctimonious ass. All Elena has to do is transform, and whatever piddling injuries I gave her will instantly heal. And if she'd start showing a little respect for her bloodline, I wouldn't have to hurt her." Bradford studied him. His eyes suddenly narrowed. "You don't even know who Wulfgar was, do you?"

"No, and I don't care. 'I wouldn't have to hurt her'? Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that line? You're a real prick, you know that?"

Bradford's jaw flexed, but otherwise, he ignored the taunt. "Wulfgar was our Arthur. He was the first among heroes, Chosen by Merlin himself to drink from the Grail and become Direkind. And since her father is dying, Elena is the last of his bloodline. Even you must see she should mate with her own kind."