Chapter 12
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
