“Do you think he’ll back off in a while, once he realizes that you aren’t going to give in to his threats?” he asked.
“If he wants to see me again, he’s going to have to,” she said. “You and I are going to be together—that’s as plain to me as the nose on my face. Dad is just going to have to get used to the idea.”
Max wasn’t sure the deputy chief would give in that easily and had no doubt that this would come back to haunt them at some point, but he had to admit, he was stoked to hear Lana talking like that. She might not have realized she was a werewolf or have a clue what it meant to find The One, but she could obviously feel the strong connection between them. At the moment, that was good enough for him.
He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to capture her lips with his. He’d only intended to give her a light kiss, but the moment he tasted her, he couldn’t help groaning as a familiar tingling sensation raced through his body. Damn, one little kiss and he was already getting hard.
Lana didn’t seem to mind. Reaching up, she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him even harder, her tongue slipping into his mouth to tease the hell out of him.
Max wasn’t sure how it happened, but at some point, they ended up on the couch, Lana straddling his hips as she ground against him in the most arousing way ever. He’d been wondering if she wanted to watch a movie on Netflix or play some video games, but he decided this was a lot more fun.
When his cell dinged, he was seriously tempted to ignore it. But he was a cop and didn’t have the privilege of blowing off his phone whenever he felt like it. Lana behaved while Max dug his phone out of back pocket. She’d been raised in a cop family. She knew how this worked.
It was an email from Peterson. Max opened the message quickly. There were several photos and a pdf document, along with a note from the detective, letting Max know he was still working the animal-tranquilizer angle and reminding him to email back ASAP if Lana recognized their John Doe.
Max opened the photos first and frowned. One look at the John Doe’s injuries and Max knew he had to be a werewolf. Not only had he clearly put up one hell of a struggle, but he’d also sustained a lot more damage than Denise. A beating like this would have killed a normal human.
He skimmed the case file next, looking at injury diagrams and statements on where the body had been found and who’d found it. There wasn’t a whole lot to go on, certainly nothing that connected directly to Denise—or Lana.
Up until now, Lana had been waiting patiently on his lap, but she finally reached out and pulled the phone down a little to give him a curious look. “Everything okay?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I hate to do this, especially in the middle of kissing you, but Peterson sent me some photos of a John Doe they found murdered, who they think might be related to Denise’s death. They’d like you to take a look and see if you recognize him. The ME cleaned him up, but I have to warn you, it’s still pretty bad.”
“Like Denise?” she asked hesitantly.
Max nodded, wishing there were some other way to do this.
She climbed off his lap and sat next to him, then took a deep breath. “Okay.”
He pulled up a photo that cropped out just about everything but the man’s head and shoulders, although that was still pretty bad.
Lana studied the photo carefully, then shook her head. “I don’t recognize him.”
Max breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected Lana to know the guy, but until they got the toxicology report back confirming there were no animal tranquilizers involved and that the murders had nothing to do with werewolves or hunters, Max was going to be on edge.
After he shot a quick text to Peterson, he filled Lana in on what little they knew about this newest victim; then they headed into the kitchen for a couple slices of cold pizza. Mostly because neither of them felt like immediately picking up where they’d left off before he’d gotten Peterson’s text, but also because the burgers and fries they had with the Wallace kids earlier simply hadn’t been enough to eat. Lana tried to play it off like she wasn’t hungry, but she took a small slice out of the box he tossed on the kitchen table anyway.
As they ate, they talked about the Wallace family. Max had been thrilled to get a chance to see Terence and his sisters, and he especially liked watching Lana interact with Natasha and Nina. Those girls adored Lana, and overhearing them talk about boyfriends and getting married had been downright hilarious. It had been tough keeping the grin off his face when he and Terence had joined them at the picnic table.
“You were pretty good with those kids,” Lana said as she nibbled on her pizza. “Terence really looks up to you.”
He took a swig of diet soda. “He’s so much like me when I was his age that it’s tough looking at him without thinking about the way things were for me.”
Lana smiled at him. “Well, things are going to be different for his family than it was for yours. And that’s all because of you.”
“All I did was give some advice,” he insisted. “It was their mom who made the hard call by walking away.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Lana said, slyly reaching over to grab another slice of pizza, as if he wouldn’t notice. “But that’s cool. Those kids know what you’ve done for them, and that’s all that matters.”
They chatted about the kids for a while longer before Lana finally picked up the half-eaten box of pizza and shoved it back in the fridge.
“If I don’t, you’ll eat the whole thing,” she pointed out.
Max chuckled. “Yeah…me…all by myself, right?”
“Of course you,” she said, coming back over to the table. “I ate more than enough at the shelter. I just had a slice with you so you wouldn’t have to eat alone.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure, whatever works for you.” He stood, taking her in his arms. “You feel like putting on a movie and snuggling up on the couch for a while? Or should we go out and get some exercise, so you don’t have to feel guilty about eating that pizza?”
