And he hated the one who had turned him. If he ever found out who it was, if he ever had an opportunity to kill the bastard, he’d take it.
He didn’t know anything about being a werewolf, but one thing his instincts told him: werewolf justice was swift. And final. He couldn’t wait to exact his own on his maker.
He increased his speed, his heightened sense of hearing picking up the sound of the suspect’s labored breathing, the thud of shoes on the paved walkway, the shouts of the other officers giving chase.
A snarl worked its way free of his throat. The team couldn’t have the creep. The sodding lowlife was his.
Sully launched himself through the air and brought the man down onto the pavement. He flipped him over, taking care to keep the man’s lower body under control so the bastard wouldn’t get a chance to knee him in the nuts.
Though the son of a bitch tried anyway.
Rage exploded through Sully’s skull, making his eyes burn, his teeth ache. A pulse pounded in his throat. Through a haze of crimson he saw the rape suspect’s eyes widen, the pupils dilating with fear.
Ah. Fear.
Sully drew in a deep breath and held it, savoring the ethereal essence of that tangy emotion.
“What are you, man?” The rapist struggled beneath him, hands and feet scrabbling for traction on the rough pavement. Blood seeped from scrapes on his cheek and chin, drawing Sully’s gaze there.
His nostrils flared with his indrawn breath. Beneath the stench of marijuana and fear was something else. Something good.
God, this guy smelled…
Like food.
And this puppy was hungry.
Sully brought his gaze back to the suspect’s and leaned closer.
Wide eyes focused on Sully’s face. “Your eyes…” His gaze drifted down to Sully’s mouth.
Sully grinned and ran his tongue over the tip of elongated canines. He’d never been one to play with his food before he’d become a werewolf, but now he was finding it could be fun.
“What the fuck are you?” The suspect’s voice choked to silence as Sully tightened his hands around the man’s throat.
From a distance Sully heard someone call his name, then again. “Sully?” Footsteps crunched along the pathway, gaining speed. “DCI Sullivan!”
The horrified alarm in the newcomer’s voice drew Sully away from the wolf and back to himself. He drew in another breath, this time a calming one, and pushed the beast back. He couldn’t help giving one last squeeze of his fingers around the rapist’s throat, then pushed away from him and stood. He walked a few paces away, his back to the group of uniformed officers who swarmed over the babbling suspect.
He scrubbed shaking hands over his face. Now that the euphoria of the adrenaline rush was fading, he was appalled at his loss of control. One minute he’d been chasing the suspect on foot, the next he’d tackled him to the ground and had been ready—with incredible eagerness—to tear into the man’s throat.
One thing he had always prided himself on was his ability to not let criminals get under his skin, not allow them to prod a response from him. Calm and cool, that was DCI Sullivan.
Not anymore.
God. What kind of hell had Declan brought him into?
From behind him he heard the slide of restraints being fastened around the suspect’s wrists, the scuffle of feet as the man was led away.
“What the hell was that all about?” Detective Constable Aubrey Lindstrom moved in front of Sully. “You return from holiday and start attacking suspects?”
Sully closed his eyes until the burning stopped. Once they felt normal again—once he felt normal again, or as close to normal as possible—he opened them to see Lindstrom standing there, a muscle twitching in his jaw, waiting for a response.
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Lindstrom glanced over Sully’s shoulder, then pointed toward the departing police cars. “That bloke is going to tell everyone who will listen that you tried to kill him.” His pale blue eyes held a mixture of confusion and frustration. “This is me you’re talking to, Sully. Remember? The guy who sees through bullshit?”
DC Lindstrom had a knack for ascertaining when someone was lying—whether it was a suspect or a man he’d worked with for nearly ten years. But Sully couldn’t very well tell him what had happened to him on holiday. For one, he wouldn’t believe it.
For another thing, it meant potentially exposing his friends as well, which he wouldn’t do.
Even if he wanted to break every bone in Declan’s body, it wouldn’t change anything. Something told him this was a secret better kept than exposed.
If humans found out that werewolves really did exist, he and his friends—and every other werewolf out there—would be in danger.
He shouldn’t give a rat’s ass, but he did. The fact that he no longer thought of himself as human started the rage building again.
He used to be human. Now he was something…
More.
Or perhaps something less.
Maybe a little of both.
“Look, I…” Sully broke off with a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. He loosened his tie. Pushing his suit jacket back, he thrust his hands into his front pockets. “I can’t go into details, all right? I’m just a bit tired.”
With a slight lift of his eyebrows, Lindstrom gave a nod telling Sully clearer than words could that he wasn’t buying that, either. “Well, you can expect a call to the Chief’s office. You know that, right?”
Sully pursed his lips. Frustration burned in his gut, tempting the wolf to come out and take care of things. With a growing sense of panic, he pushed the beast down again and turned toward the park exit. “He can do whatever he wants,” he said with a barely restrained growl.
“Yes, he bloody well can.” Lindstrom put one hand on Sully’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “And if you go in with an attitude like that, mate, he’ll slap you with a suspension so fast your head will spin.”
Sully jerked away from the detective. The entire situation was a sodding mess, and the only ones who could help him were the two people he didn’t want to see. If his so-called friends had been up front with him from the beginning, his life might not have been plunged into this hell. He trapped a howl of fury in his throat. “You let me worry about that,” he rasped and stalked to his car.
“Yeah. I’ll do just that,” he heard Lindstrom mutter.
Sully unlocked his unmarked sedan with the remote key fob and opened the door. He sighed and looked at Lindstrom over the roof of the car. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
Sully jerked his head toward the park. “For back there. For…bringing me to my senses.”
The detective shrugged. “You’d do the same for me.”
Sully gave a nod. He would. They had each others’ backs. “See you back at the Yard.”
A scant half hour later, Sully stood in front of his superior’s desk, receiving the dressing-down of his life.
“Just what the hell were you thinking, Sullivan?” George Glace’s voice climbed a full octave.
Sully hid a wince. The Chief Superintendent was in rare form. Rightly so, he supposed, but it didn’t mean he liked being taken to task like a boy still in knee britches.
“Tackling a fleeing suspect is one thing,