Three days. Three dead bodies. One newly turned, broken-hearted lycan tracker to figure out the connection.
The one summer Rick Barton takes a vacation, all hell breaks loose. Running from an abusive relationship leads him into the arms of hard-nosed lycan Travis Chandler, who gives him little choice but to become a lycan too and join the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation. Out of options, Rick joins the weird organization, expecting some two weeks of training and an adjustment period. Tough luck, he doesn’t get either. On his first day, his new partner offers to promote him to field agent if they get mated – less time wasted on training, more time on the field, and considering Rick is the only tracker the Bureau has on hand when a wave of strange murders hits the community, time is of the essence.
Someone’s killing the leaders of the paranormal world and mutilating the bodies. Investigating and tracking clues is enough of a challenge, and Rick must contend with an impatient Council, Travis’s advances, and actually adjusting to being a lycan. Only one thing is certain: Rick’s new life promises plenty of interesting adventures—as long as he can survive.
I looked up at him, the deep tone of his voice making the little hairs on my nape stand up on end. Goddamn, he had the sexiest voice I’d ever heard.
I smiled. “Hey.”
His eyes were almost scary intense as he stood there before me and gazed down into my eyes. Most guys would feel awkward about prancing around in snug Speedos and talking to someone who’s sitting down right in front of them. This guy had no issue whatsoever with it. Why would he? He was a god of summer, with the skin and the eyes and the package to make it work.
The longer we stared at each other, the bigger his grin grew. Those lips had a wicked effect on my pulse. My heart began to pound. And the more awkward I felt, the more he seemed to get off on it. Whatever this guy might’ve been thinking, I wasn’t a blushing virgin. Or at least I wasn’t a virgin, with the heat and all I couldn’t tell if I was blushing or not. Hell, who even cared? I sure didn’t.
“So,” I said in a strained voice, “how was the water?”
He hummed a bit, as if he was thinking on that. It was water. How difficult could it be to say something about it? Instead of saying anything, though, he reached out a hand and kept it that way until I grabbed it. He got me up to my feet, gave me one of those blinding grins, and began walking toward the water and dragging me along.
“So you’re one of those ‘show, don’t tell’ kind of guys?” I asked as calmly as I could.
He chuckled. “Definitely.”
I must have passed out again, because I woke up in a hospital room. I looked around while a vicious headache stabbed at my brains. Everything hurt, even breathing. The light pouring in from the window was harsh on my eyes so I looked away. Which was when I decided I was hallucinating again, because there he was, my hottie, sitting on a chair by me bed,
grinning and looking decidedly self-satisfied. He wore no white coat, and I was disappointed since he looked so hot in hallucinations.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he said.
I frowned. “Only an asshole would comment on the looks of a guy in the hospital.”
“Well, you’ll probably decide I’m a complete asshole in about a minute.”
Weirder and weirder. “Why would I decide that? How did you get here anyway, we never even exchanged names. You’re a doctor or something?”
He leaned forward in the chair, setting his elbows on his knees. Then he looked at me. My bed was higher than his chair and bent as he was, I was looking down. I got a small measure of satisfaction out of it for some reason.
He half-smiled. “I’m Travis Chandler, and you’re Rick Barton.”
I tried to get up on the pillow, though every fucking muscle rebelled against me. “How’d you know my name?”
He sighed, leaned back in the chair, and crossed his legs. “Cause I know you, Rick. In the interest of full disclosure, I also know you just got fired, broke up with your sugar daddy—good decision, he’s an ass, by the way—and you applied for a position via the Special Work Forces. Congrats, you’re hired.”
“Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on, Travis Chandler. He was my boyfriend, not my sugar daddy, and why the freaking fuck do you know any of that?”
He chuckled, that dark kind of rumble he’d done in the water too. It sent chills up and down my spine just like it had then. Only now, without the haze of a hard-on, it was less seductive and more along the lines of scary.
“Stop laughing, asshole,” I gritted out squinting my eyes.
Those black eyes turned toxic again as he looked me straight in the eye. “There, see? I’m an asshole already.”
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