Cat's Howl: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Series Book 2) (3 page)

“Cat! Come on! Stop lying to yourself! I’m only here because
Rafe asked me to take you! I didn’t want to go to your prom, I mean, do you
think I’d need some high school girl to go out with? Come on, Cat, think! Years
of watching us in those woods and you really believe I want this? I mean look
at you, hardly more than a kid in dress up for God’s sake!”

“Go to hell!”

The slap surprised her as much as it did him. Her hand stung
with the force of it as she ran back to the bonfire. She was careful to slow
down before her supernatural speed was noticed by anyone.

She caught up with a group of girls she had English class with.
They were heading out and offered her a ride. Cat readily accepted. There was
no way she wanted to drive back with her
date
! Heck, she never wanted to
see Tate Nighthawk ever again!

Tate stood there helpless as she stormed off towards the
bonfire. He figured he’d just take her home, but she was gone before he made it
back. He could feel his cheek swell and imagined the angry red mark that still stung.
She packed one heck of a punch for a female, his face was on fire and it was minutes
later. He figured he deserved it.

He had never felt so low, but it was better to be cruel now
than to let her carry on. At least that was what he thought. He’d talk to her again
when she calmed down. He’d explain about why he could never have anything to do
with someone as pure and good as Cat. Tate was bad news. She’d see it was for
the best.

“Damn it!”

Only he never got the chance to explain. Cat skipped out on
her graduation ceremony. She left home days later to begin her classes at her
college. She was enrolled in the all female St. Elizabeth’s College at Convent
Station, New Jersey.

Zev thought his daughter was being industrious and Rafe,
well, he had asked Tate only once if anything had happened between him and his
sister.

Lying was futile for Werewolves and since Rafe would one day
be Tate’s Alpha he figured keeping secrets would be unwise. Tate sighed heavily
and sat down one day the following week.

He told Rafe what had transpired between him and Cat the
night of her prom. He managed to leave out some of the more personal details. That
was one discussion that he wished he could have avoided.

Afterwards Tate felt vindicated, angry, and saddened because
Rafe agreed with him. He was not good enough for the younger sister of the heir
to the Macconwood Pack.

Not good enough. Never good enough.
It didn’t matter anyway.

Cat was gone.  
  

Present day.

Cat panted as she chased the perp down the slippery sidewalk
of downtown Main Street in Maccon City. He zigzagged between parked cars and
even managed to upend a trash can, but Cat was fast. Really fast.

Stupid friggin’ kid!
Did he think she would just give
up?

She blew back the strands of hair that came undone from her French
braid as she ran. She hated complicated hairstyles. But it was the only way to
hold back the blonde waves that she kept at shoulder length. She guessed she
was sentimental about it, but hey, it was her hair. She’d cut it when she
wanted to and not a minute before!

“Oh, come on!”

The kid decided to take off down a dark alley.
Just
great!
Cat’s partner was lagging further and further behind. Heck, she had
no choice. She couldn’t wait for him! Cat gritted her teeth. She had been told
by her boss that she was not supposed to engage with a perp unless she had the
proper back-up.

One glance at her partner and she knew the kid would get
away if she waited one more minute to chase him. Cat had no choice. She took
off after him, her lips curled into a predatory grin. The chase was the best
part of her job and she wouldn’t even break a sweat.

“Hey girlie, where ya goin’? Wait up, will ya!”

She shook her head as Carl wheezed behind her. He should
probably consider hitting the gym a little more and the donuts a little less. She
should try to find a gentle way to bring that up next time they had a moment.

Not to mention the fact that he needed to be corrected about
using outdated and inappropriate nicknames for her.
Girlie.
Doll. Sweet
cheeks.
Was he serious?

She was jogged from her musings when the scent of gun metal
reached her sensitive nostrils. Cat exhaled sharply. She listened as Carl
clumsily withdraw his gun from his hip holster and then started after them
again.

Damn it!
She shook her head. There was no need for
guns. The kid wasn’t armed. He was angry, scared, and judging from his crime,
hungry.

The alley curved into a dead end behind an old empty
warehouse and Cat slowed her pace. She held up her right hand so her partner
would see she had spotted him. Though “spotted him” was a loose term.

Her acute hearing had actually picked up on the erratic beating
of the kid’s heart. He was petrified. And he was muttering something under his
breath. She focused on what he was saying.
Hmm.
It sounded like he was
praying.

“Hey look, just come on out, nice and easy. There’s nowhere
for you to go. Listen up, you got caught, it’s not the end of the world, just
come out slowly, with your hands where I can see them,” Cat tried reasoning
with the boy.

He couldn’t be more than seventeen years old. A street kid,
from the looks and smell of him. He probably hopped the bus to the shore
looking for easy pickings. But he was out of luck.

It was way too early for vacationers. Still the dead of
winter and a cold one at that. Most of the retail stores and restaurants were closed
until spring.

She couldn’t imagine how desperate he’d have to be to try
and rob the local Qwik-E-Mart. The owner, Mr. Taggert, had the place wired with
top of the line security cameras linked directly to his cellular phone. He even
posted a sign warning would be criminals.

He saw the whole thing play out while he was in the men’s
room. He dialed 911 before the kid even made it out of the front door.

Mr. Taggert estimated about twenty dollars in goods were
taken along with the cash. The kid had filled every pocket he had with beef
jerky, soda cans, a couple of bags of peanuts, and candy bars.

Cat waved Carl further back, his heavy breathing was interfering
with her ability to hear the perp’s heartbeat. And she could tell a lot from a
person’s heartbeat.

A good Werewolf could tell a person’s emotions and state of
mind from sight, sound, and scent. Cat was a good Werewolf. And a good cop.

She had a high success rate at the Maccon County Sheriff’s
Department. She mostly enjoyed her work over the past few years.

Earning her M.A. in Justice Administration and Public
Service from St. Elizabeth’s College allowed her the possibility to move up
quickly in the department. It had been her goal throughout college to make her
way to the top of law enforcement. But lately she felt restless.

After her father passed away Cat decided to try and make a
life for herself in her hometown. Her brother, Rafe, was the Alpha now. It was
a difficult position and he needed all of the support he could get. She was
miffed when he passed her up for a position in his private Wolf Guard.

But in his defense, Rafe made a lot of progressive changes. She
just needed to show him she was as tough and dedicated to him as any of the
boys in his Wolf Guard were.

As it was, she didn’t begrudge him his decision. She was genuinely
proud of him and all his accomplishments thus far.

First and foremost, he had built their old home into a
veritable estate. The place had been neglected by their father to almost devastating
consequences. Much of the land was near to ruin, but Rafe managed to fix it all
and then some.

The house was practically a palace and absolutely perfect
for all of the politicking necessary to run a successful Pack. He called it
Macconwood Manor, same as their father had, only now it rang true.

There were dozens of bedrooms, guest houses, and amenities.
Not to mention top notch security, their own private beach, and access to over
five hundred acres of private woods owned by the Macconwood Pack and located
just behind the Manor.

It was perfect. As soon as the paint had dried he had his
Wolf Guard move in permanently. It was then that he called Cat to come home.

She had been reluctant at first, but eventually agreed. Cat
could never say no to Rafe. She was pleasantly surprised at the change in not
only the house, but in the Pack as well.

Rafe managed to fill their bank accounts and create programs
for Pack members that involved education, support, and protection. Cat wanted
so badly to help implement the changes her brother was making, she just had to
prove to him that she could be beneficial.

Rafe had come a long way from not wanting any of the responsibility
of being Alpha to being the best one the Pack had had in a century. She loved
her brother and would help him in any way she could.

Their bond was strong, after all not many children could say
they had been raised under Zev Maccon’s roof and survived. The nightmare that
was living with their father was something that the two of them would always
share.

Still, Cat had moved on from all that. It was the past. She had
learned to let go of the past. Coming home was part of the process.

Of course, it was awkward with Tate Nighthawk living in the Manor
as well. But, he was one of her brother’s Wolf Guard and that required he live
in the Alpha’s primary residence. Cat just had to pretend it didn’t affect her.

She stayed in town as often as she could. Working for the
Sheriff’s department made it all the easier. She pulled double shifts, worked
nights, and managed to stay out of Tate’s way.

All the while she told herself she had a job to do. Inside
the Pack and inside the Sheriff’s Department. Old wounds scarred over and life
moved on.

She had friends, went out on dates, and she did her job
well. She never got serious, but then again she didn’t want to. Relationships
were tricky things for Werewolves.

When she first got to college she was a little gun shy about
guys. Nowadays she more than made up for it. No one had any power over her.
Not
anymore
. Her life was what she made of it.

But right then, the only life she was concerned with was the
one belonging to the kid who had made the poor decision to come into her town
and commit a robbery.

It wasn’t the food or the thirty-seven dollars and sixty-five
cents that he had stolen from the register that upset her. It was the fact the
he knocked over Mr. Taggert’s old dog, Betsy.

As he ran away from the store he had shoved past the poor
girl when she came around the counter to see what was going on. The St. Bernard
was about ten years old, and that was pretty old for giant breed dogs.

She was the sweetest old girl Cat knew and the fact that she
had been hurt was downright tragic. The least of Betsey’s problems was a
dislocated hip from the fall and she would probably require surgery.

That
made Cat angry. That and whatever it was that
drove the perp to this point in his life. She decided to try reasoning with him
one more time.

“Look, it’s not too late. You’re young and you made a
mistake. You got caught, kid, it’s okay, but it’s time to give yourself up now.
No one needs to get hurt here, understand? You can still make the right decision.”

Shit.
Cat knew the second he decided to fight his way
out. His breathing changed and his scent altered from the bitter smell of fear,
to the more acrid stink of desperation. She waited a beat and there it was, a heavy
dose of stupidity to round out his bad decisions. Cat scrunched her nose up
from the unpleasant odor.
Here goes nothing.

She focused in on where she knew he was crouched down. She
heard the small scrape as he picked a broken glass bottle up off the ice and mud
caked alley floor. Before he could even decide where to throw it, Cat was on
him.

She hefted him up by his sweatshirt collar and banged him
against the solid brick wall. His wet sneakers squeeked against it as he tried
to find his footing.

His panic was ripe when he realized she had him completely
off the ground. He whimpered, his scent turning bitter once again. This time it
was much more potent. She wrinkled her nose and prayed that he wouldn’t urinate
right there.

“Damn lady! Lemme go! Lemme go! What you some kind of steroid
freak? Put me down! Come on, man, put me down, man! Lemme go!”

Cat growled at the insult, but dropped him when she heard
Carl approach from behind them. His weapon was still drawn. He only pulled it
up when he saw them. Cat sighed and tried not to roll her eyes.

She took out her cuffs and began reading the kid his rights.
She had to be careful not to hurt him as she pulled his arms behind him, but it
wasn’t easy when she was that amped up.

It was already difficult downplaying her superior skills at
hunting down and locating perpetrators to her peers on the job. She couldn’t
very well explain bruising a teenage boy who outweighed her by a good fifty pounds
by simply putting on a pair of handcuffs.

“Good job, uh, I would’ve had him, you know,” Carl nodded
her way as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and put his gun back in its
holster. She gave him a thumbs up in return, she didn’t trust herself to speak
just yet.

Instead she sucked in the cold air and wiped her noise. She
had to remember to look winded as she led the boy back to their squad car while
Carl called in the arrest. She forced herself to breath much more rapidly then
necessary.

The air was cold when it hit her lungs, but she kept up the
façade of looking tired after the chase. It was necessary in order to keep the
whole Werewolf thing under wraps. Especially with Carl puffing out air and
holding his side.

Cat was used to the routine. She kept breathing hard and
wiped make believe sweat from her forehead. Though she hated the deception, she
understood the necessity. The normal world wasn’t ready yet to know about them.

They could never understand the supernatural world that
lived among them. After all they never have. Not since the dawn of time.

The kid didn’t put up any struggle as she frog marched him
out of the alley. He was much too scared to fight. Cat knew the exact moment
when the realization that he was likely headed to jail caught up with him.

Tears rolled down his dirt streaked face and desperation
seemed to hang like a dark cloud over his head. She had seen it before a
hundred times.

That didn’t stop her from feeling sorry for him.
Foolish
kid.
Left alone with an older, slower cop like Carl or someone as
unpredictable as the new recruit, Jonny Dominguez, and this kid might have come
out of that alley in a body bag instead of in handcuffs. She shook her head at
the madness of it all and kept going.

It was the only way Cat knew how to help. She got the bad
guys off the street. But sometimes she wondered if that was enough.

She took in the boy’s miserable appearance and wondered what
chance he ever really had. He wore old scuffed sneakers and his jeans had probably
seen better days.

He had no coat in the bitter cold weather. He wore a black
hoodie instead. It reeked of cigarette smoke, stale peanuts, and spilled cola.
She wondered when the last time the kid had had a decent meal and a proper
bath.

What was his home life like? Did he have parents who cared?
And what about school? He had the looks of a kid who’d been in the system
before.

Without knowing anything about his situation she could guess
just how much that had helped him. She shook her head again. It wasn’t perfect,
the system, but it was all she had to work with.

If only someone could have gotten to him before he came to
Maccon City. It was too late now, Cat thought as she looked at her handcuffs
snug tightly around his wrists. It was going to be a very long night.

Cat was too caught up in her analysis of the teen to notice
the pair of muddy brown eyes that watched her from a nearby rooftop.

She couldn’t feel the mal-intent of the owner of those eyes.
He kept himself well hidden and made sure to stand downwind.

His dirty hands gripped the edge of his cell phone tightly
as he snapped a few photos before she was out of sight. A few clicks here and
there and he sent them to his boss.