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Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

I f Gryph could have flogged himself for what he'd done, he would have. Seeing Selene's punctured skin, blood oozing from the wounds, had been the cold bucket of ice water he'd needed to douse his passion and bring him back to the stark reality he'd known all his life—he couldn't be with a human.

He was a danger to her. Yes, she'd wanted him as badly as he'd wanted her, but he had to end it. He could never forgive himself if he caused her harm.

Slamming his foot to the accelerator, he sped back to his apartment in the basement of the GL Enterprises building. Once inside he flung his keys against the wall, stripped his jacket from his shoulders and sent it in the same direction. Rage ripped through him, making hairs spring forth from his skin. He need to run, to get outside in the darkness and charge through the countryside, roaring. But a lion couldn't be so obvious. A wolf could get away with being seen. A lion would be hunted down and shot, deemed unnatural to the area, and a danger to the human population.

And wasn't that what he was? A danger to humans?

He entered his workout room and stepped up to a large punching bag suspended from the ceiling. Channeling his anger and the beast within, he rammed his bare fist into the canvas, not even wincing at the pain in his knuckles and his sore shoulder—the shoulder Selene had nursed back to health.

Her scent still lingered against his skin, the image of her lying naked on his desk seared into his memory.

What good did it do to think about her? He couldn't be with her without wanting to make love to her. And God forbid he made love to her again, and hurt her like he'd already done.

He slammed his hand into the bag, again and again, until his knuckles were bruised and raw. Then he hit it again, welcoming the pain.

"Shouldn't you be using gloves?" Marge's voice forced him to stop.

"I thought you were gone for the day," he said without turning to glance in her direction.

"I did, but I'm back with someone you should talk to."

Gryph slowly turned to face her.

"Gryphon Leone, meet my brother-in-law's son, Rafe Cain, leader of the Kenyon pack from the north side of Chicago."

Gryph extended a bruised hand.

Rafe's gaze narrowed, and his nose twitched as if he was sizing up Gryph's scent and sincerity. Finally, he took the hand and gave it a firm shake. "Marge tells me the woman killed last night was attacked by a wolf."

"Initially, that's right."

Rafe tipped his head, eyeing the healing wound on Gryph's shoulder. "He do that?"

"Yes."

"Shifter?" Rafe asked.

Gryph's heartbeat stuttered and then pushed on. "I am."

Rafe's lips twitched and he sniffed the air. "Lion?"

After a long moment, Gryph nodded his acknowledgment. He hadn't told anyone outside the Lair of his affliction. It felt oddly liberating to admit what he was to a fellow shifter and stranger.

"Thought so." Rafe grinned. "But I really wanted to know if you thought the wolf was a shifter."

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Gryph would have laughed at himself. He had to be reminded that the world wasn't out to expose him for the lion shifter he was. "He managed to get inside the hospital to finish what he'd started. I don't think a wolf could do that without being noticed."

The leader of the wolf pack nodded. "I asked around and I'd stake my reputation that it wasn't one of ours."

"And you came all the way from the north side to tell me that?"

Rafe's mouth twisted. "No."

Gryph waited. Whatever Rafe had to say might prove to be a link to this case that would help them solve it.

"There's a pack on the southwest side of Chicago that call themselves the Devil's Disciples. As part of the initiation rites, they have to attack influential targets."

"To kill?"

A frown dented Rafe's brow. "That's what had me stumped. The pack doesn't usually kill women. They usually go for the offspring of some rich or influential bastard. And they don't kill."

"What do they do?"

"They bite or scratch them deep enough to draw blood."

"And you think they went too far with Amanda?" Gryph shook his head. "As far as I know, she's not from a rich or influential family."

"The Disciples don't go for women and don't kill unless in gang warfare. They turn their targets."

"As in make the human a shifter?" Gryph blew out his breath. "Wow. That means there's a growing population of shifters in the city."

Rafe nodded. "The rich are keeping it on the down low. They don't want their status to be impugned by the knowledge they have tainted bloodlines."

"Why did I not know this?" He turned to Marge.

She shrugged. "It's the first I've heard of it."

"It started about six months ago. Their alpha male was murdered by a fresh turn who took over and started the initiation rites."

"Southwest Chicago, huh?"

"Warehouse area, Archer Heights district. They congregate at night at this pool hall." Rafe handed Gryph a slip of paper with the address. "I'd go with you, but that would start a gang war I'm not ready to commit my pack to."

"No," Gryph said. "It's best I handle this alone."

"After nine is the best time to catch a large number of them."

Gryph stared at the address, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Evening had turned to night and he had an hour to kill until nine. He stuck out his hand. "Thanks for the information."

"Don't mention it." Rafe gripped his hand hard. "Really. Don't mention it. You didn't get this information from me. I wouldn't have passed it on if I didn't think it was important to find and stop the shifter who killed the woman. If word gets out to the general population that there are shifters in the city, the humans will go on an extermination hunt."

"Understood."

Marge showed Rafe to the exit and returned a few minutes later. "Are you going there?"

"I am."

"Without backup?" Marge planted her fists on her narrow hips.

"Who would I take?"

"How about some of the misfits you support in the Lair?"

"Most of them are women, children and broken-down men. They wouldn't be of any use standing up to a gang of young shifters."

His assistant clucked her tongue. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"As long as I stop whoever killed Amanda from taking another life."

Marge frowned. "If it's all the same to you, I like my job, and I'd like to keep it."

Gryph wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind."

Marge hugged him around his waist and stared up at him. "What happened with your woman?"

Gryph stiffened. "She's not my woman."

She harrumphed. "Is that your way of avoiding an answer?"

"There are some things that don't bear discussing."

"She ditched you?" Marge's back straightened like a ramrod. "Say the word and I'll scratch her eyes out."

Gryph frowned down at Marge. "You say that like you mean it."

Marge crossed her arms and stood with her feet slightly apart, like a militant grandmother. "I do."

"Well, it wasn't her ditching me ." He shoved a hand through his hair. "I ditched her."

Marge took a step back so that she could face him head-on. "You like this girl?"

Gryph turned toward the punching bag, flexing his sore knuckles. "Too much."

"Then what's stopping you from seeing her again?"

"There's been a BOLO, be on the look out, issued on me, for one. And then there's the other thing I can't just clear up with a phone call."

"What other thing?"

"The beast."

Marge snorted. "It's a part of you. Has she seen it?"

He nodded. "Partially."

"And she didn't run screaming?"

He'd been delirious with pain and infection, but she'd stayed right there with him, even when he'd roared and half changed. "No."

"That's a good sign." Marge nodded approvingly. "She's not afraid."

"Yeah." He slugged the bag again, regretting it as soon as his knuckles hit canvass. "I'm afraid of what the beast will do to her."

"Your beast doesn't control you, Gryphon." Marge laid a hand on his arm. " You control it ."

He stared at her small older hand. "And if I can't?"

"There's no question about it."

"I can't risk her life to prove I can control my beast. There are...situations...that bring it out."

"Hot-and-heavy sex?" Marge grinned. "I'm old, not dead. My husband always half turned in the middle of making love to me. He even bit me a time or two."

The image of Marge and her husband getting naked in the sheets wasn't one Gryph wanted permanently imprinted in his head. "What did you do?"

"I bit him back."

"Did he draw blood?"

"Not much. It was more of a scratch."

"And you didn't turn?"

"Takes more than a scratch. You have to exchange a little blood."

"Assuming shifting to a lion is similar to wolf-shifting, what if I scratch her and mix my blood with hers?"

"Have you ever thought she might want the opportunity to decide if she's willing to risk it?"

"No." Gryph headed for the door. "She's a happy, healthy and well-adjusted human. I won't subject her to the kind of life I lead."

"Who said she's all that? Do you really know who or what she is?" Marge shook a fist at him and walked toward him. "And what's wrong with your life?"

"I'm hiding in plain sight. I don't travel. Chicago is the center of my world."

"And why is that?" She held up her hand. "And don't tell me because of the beast. You have the most control of any shifter I've ever known."

He shook his head. "Not always."

"You do, when it counts."

"Don't you understand?" He grabbed Marge's arms. "I scratched her. My claws came out and sank into her skin. I drew blood." His heart squeezed so hard in his chest, he dropped his grip on Marge and pressed a hand to the pain. "I can't risk it."

"Fine." Marge rubbed her arms. "Go through your life sad and lonely, and miss out on everything love has to offer. It's your choice." She backed toward the door. "I'm going to my apartment, putting my feet up and watching CSI ."

"Marge."

Gryph's voice stopped her from punching the elevator button. "You gonna yell at me some more?"

"No." He crossed the room and pulled the woman into a gentle hug. "Thanks. You always know how to bring me down off the ceiling."

"Wouldn't have to, if you'd just use your head, not your..." She glanced at his crotch. "You know." She pushed the button and the doors slid open. Once inside, she looked back at him. "And don't think your pretty little girlfriend is all so human. She might have a secret or two she's keeping from you." The elevator door slid closed.

"Huh?" Gryph lunged for the button and pressed it, but the car had already gone.

What the hell did Marge mean by her parting comment? Selene was human. Wasn't she?

* * *

Selene stepped out of the shower, feeling clean and refreshed. The oppressive evil had abated and her world had righted itself.

Well, almost. Her thighs still had a delicious ache and the wounds on her fanny stung every time she sat down, a continuous reminder of the intensity of the passion they'd shared on Gryph's office desk.

No amount of cold water in the shower had cooled her desire. How she wished she'd invited Gryph to come in. But he'd been so bipolar in how he'd treated her. One minute he'd been anxious to leave her with the promise to never see her again, the next he'd volunteered to stay until he was sure she was okay. She sensed he really wanted to be with her, but was afraid he was bad for her. The claw marks had been the clincher for him.

So be it. She didn't need him, or his warm caresses, or the raspy tongue licking the insides of her thighs. No, sir.

She checked her cell phone, half hoping he'd called, changing his mind. Disappointment filled her as she noted two calls from Deme, not Gryph.

She played the voice-mail message, her hand tightening.

"Selene, they've taken Amanda to the Cook County morgue. We've located Professor Crownover and he's asked to see the body. Meet us at the morgue at nine o'clock."

Selene rushed into her bedroom and dove into her dress pockets, her pulse speeding until her fingers touched the slick gray card Gryph had given her. Standing with her hair wrapped in a towel and another wrapped around her middle, she debated calling Gryph and asking him to meet them at the morgue. He had a right to know whatever Crownover had to say.

Then again, if there was big news to come out of the meeting, she could relay the information to him. She'd already interrupted his life and busy millionaire schedule enough by dropping in on him with a surprise visit.

She set the card on her nightstand and hurriedly dressed. Twice she almost lifted the phone and called him.

Dressed in jeans, T-shirt and a black leather jacket, her wet hair combed back and secured in a ponytail, she lifted the card from the nightstand, stuck it into her back pocket and headed for the door to her apartment.

Her hand paused on the doorknob and she reached out with her thoughts, searching for the evil she'd felt earlier.

A lingering thickness hung in the air as if the evil hovered, waiting to manifest itself in something more solid, more physical. A faint warning tremor rippled across her.

Selene grabbed the long, black flashlight she kept beside the door in case of emergency. It was solid and heavy, like the ones cops used as a light or a billy club, depending on what was needed at the time.

Armed, in a fashion, she stepped out the door and rounded the building to the driveway at the side, climbing into her compact Prius.

She drove away without incident; the farther from her apartment she went, the less she felt the disturbing and disconcerting feeling of being watched.

At the morgue, she climbed out of her car and entered the building. A night watchman checked her driver's license and led her back to one of the autopsy rooms, where tables stood in a line like a factory waiting for parts to be assembled. Or in this case, to be dissembled.

At the far end of the room, Deme, Brigid, Gina and Aurai stood with Cal, a man in a white lab coat and another man in a brown tweed jacket. They were gathered near a table with a body on it.

As Selene neared, she recognized the woman on the stainless-steel surface as Amanda Grant. Her body had been stripped and she lay on her belly, her long blond hair pulled away from the back of her neck, exposing the bruising and skin trauma of puncture wounds.

Deme glanced up. "Selene, good. I'm glad you're here. You'll want to hear what the professor has to say."

The man in the brown tweed jacket barely acknowledged her, his attention on the woman's body as he pointed with a scalpel to the wounds at the back of the woman's neck.

"As I was saying, these bite marks are from a large canine. A very large dog or a wolf, to be more specific."

"You're sure about that?" Selene asked.

"I've examined cattle killed by wolves on numerous occasions. Although they usually attack the hindquarters, the spacing between the canine teeth is narrower on a wolf than on a lion. The lion's is noticeably broader. Most likely a wolf attacked this woman. And it had to be a really big wolf."

"Professor, have you heard of wolves of this size in downtown Chicago before?" Brigid asked.

The professor nodded to the ME and stepped back. "Perhaps we should move this discussion outside the morgue so that the medical examiner can finish his work and get home before midnight."

Selene, her sisters and Cal left the autopsy room and stepped out in front of the morgue with the professor before they spoke again.

"I didn't want to say anything to alarm the ME." The professor removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands on it, then dragged it over his face. "I've been studying wolf sightings in Chicago for the past five years, tracking the locations and documenting the time, size and colors reported."

"Sightings?" Brigid asked. "How many?"

"Over three hundred, and counting. The trend has become more frequent over the past year." He waved toward the parking lot. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you what I mean on my laptop."

The group gathered around the professor's older model Cadillac as he pulled his laptop from a case, set it on the hood of his vehicle and booted the system.

When the screen came up, he punched several keys and a map filled the display with red flags marking different locations on the Chicago city map. Many overlapped each other.

"All these were wolf sightings?" Selene asked.

"Those were just the reported sightings."

"Why don't we hear about it in the news?" Aurai touched the screen. "Look at all of them."

"The mayor is keeping it low-key. As long as no one had sustained injuries from a wolf attack, he didn't want to alarm the citizens."

"Until last night." Selene's fists tightened. "There seems to be a concentration of sightings in the southwest part of the city."

"Right. In the Archer Heights district. I've set up surveillance there several times. Some of the sightings were added from my own observations."

"So there really are wolves in the city?" Selene's heart soared. "And it wasn't a lion that attacked her? You're positive?"

"I saw the picture posted on the news, like everyone else. Just looking at the picture, I can tell you her attacker wasn't whatever she described. The facial structure was all wrong. Frankly I don't know what that was she had the forensic artist draw. Maybe some hallucination."

Selene knew, but she kept the information to herself.

Brigid pointed to the computer. "Can we get a copy of your data?"

"Sure," the professor said. "Got a flash drive?"

"As a matter of fact, I keep one on my keychain." Deme handed over her keychain, the professor plugged the storage device in and downloaded the information and removed the thumb drive.

Deme took her keys and held out her hand to the man. "Thank you for coming out so late at night, Professor."

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do. I have a daughter about Amanda's age. I'd hate to think there was a man-eating wolf roaming the streets close to where she lives on the northeast side."

"We'll let you know," Brigid assured him.

The professor closed his laptop, climbed into his Cadillac and drove away.

"So, what now?" Selene asked.

"I don't know about you, but—" Deme pocketed her keychain with the flash drive "—I'm headed to Archer Heights to see if I can catch me a killer." She spun toward her SUV.

Selene held up her hand and said in a clear and firm voice, "Hold on."

Her sisters and Cal all turned toward her.

"You heard the professor. Amanda was killed by a wolf. Just like Gryph said."

"Yeah, so?" Brigid frowned. "Your point?"

"You all agree then that Gryph didn't do it?"

Deme nodded. "I'd go as far as saying we're ninety-nine percent sure."

"Close enough." Selene took a deep breath. "I found him."

"Your wounded stranger?" Aurai laid her hand on Selene's arm, her eyes sparkling her excitement. "Where?"

"Doesn't matter where. I think he deserves to know about the professor's research. His life and reputation are on the line for trying to help."

Brigid shrugged. "Then call him. Cal, Deme and I are heading for Archer Heights."

"I'm going with them," Gina said.

"And me," Aurai added.

Selene smiled. "Guess we're all going. Who's driving?"

"Me." Deme pulled her keys from her pocket and headed across the parking lot for her SUV. "I can take most of us."

"I'll follow on my bike." Brigid straddled her Harley and glanced at Selene. "You riding with me?"

"Yeah. Just as soon as I place this call." She strode away for privacy, then punched the numbers on the keypad and hit Call. She held her breath, her pulse beating so hard it reverberated against her eardrums.

"Selene?" Gryph's deep, gravelly voice spread over her like warm melted chocolate.

"We're headed for Archer Heights. We think the killer may be there."

"Wait. I got the same information."

Selene glanced across at Deme. "From what source?"

"I can't say, but I have the address of a pool hall where we might start our search. I've mapped out the area. It's mostly warehouses and low-income housing. We should meet somewhere else and form a plan before we go charging in. The locals might not be so ready to answer questions otherwise."

"Good point."

"Where are you?"

"With my sisters at Cook County morgue."

"I'm less than a mile from you. Stay there. I'm coming." He hesitated. "That is, if you sisters aren't going to shoot me as soon as they see me."

A smile curled Selene's lips. "I'll make sure they don't." When he rang off, Selene rejoined her sisters.

"Ready?" Brigid revved the engine on her Harley.

Shaking her head, Selene told them what she'd learned. "Gryph got a tip on the Archer Heights area and, even better, an address of a pool hall where we might get some answers. He's on his way."

"Good," Brigid said. "I have a few questions for him when he gets here."

Selene lifted her phone like a weapon. "If you even think about shooting him or taking him in for questioning. I'll tell him not to come."

Brigid's eyes narrowed. "Fine. But he better not hurt you, or all bets off."

For a long moment, Selene stared at her sister, torn. She trusted her sisters with her life, but could she trust them with Gryph's? Finally, she sighed. "He wants us to wait here."

"The longer we wait the bigger chance of the attacker going after another victim."

"We don't know that. Archer Heights is a big area, are you going to cover the entire district?"

"She's right." Deme crossed her arms. "If this Gryph guy has a specific address, it could save us a lot of time."

"We need him," Selene said. "We'll wait." And pray her sisters didn't harm him.

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