Beside Khaki on the opposite bench, a black cat named Kat that belonged to one of their teammates regarded Rachel thoughtfully. Unlike Tuffie, the playful pit-bull mix the SWAT pack had adopted the previous summer, Kat acted like she owned the place. When she wasn’t up here watching the guys clean up after PT or hanging out with her rescuer, Connor, she wandered the compound looking bored. If the expression in her feline gaze now was any indication, she completely agreed with Khaki. It was times like these that made Rachel think the animal knew a whole hell of a lot more about the world than any cat should.
“I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” she said quietly.
Khaki frowned. “You’re still having nightmares, aren’t you?”
Rachel nodded. She hated admitting it, but it wasn’t like Khaki didn’t already know about the hellish dreams. Her friend had quickly picked up on the fact that something was bothering Rachel after she and some of their pack mates had come back fresh from a fight with a nest of vampires in Los Angeles a few weeks ago.
It might be stupid, especially since she and her pack mates were werewolves, but discovering vampires existed had shocked the hell out of all of them, including Rachel. So, when Khaki assumed she was a little off because of what happened in California, Rachel hadn’t corrected her. It’d seemed easier to let her friend think she was suffering PTSD from the fight with the bloodsuckers than to admit she’d been dealing with nightmares—and other things—ever since werewolf hunters had attacked the SWAT compound two months ago. That night, she’d screwed up and let one of the hunters get away, even when she’d had the man right in her sights.
A little while after, she’d started picking up bizarre scents that none of the other werewolves in her pack seemed to notice. Scents that both attracted and scared the hell out of her. Even worse were the shadows she caught out of the corner of her eye—shadows that were frequently horrifying but, at other times, almost comforting.
As bad as her waking hours were, it was the nightmares that were causing her the most distress. She’d been having traumatic dreams ever since going through her change that night in the cemetery in Chattanooga, but they’d been nothing compared to the terrors she was experiencing lately. The endless horrors of being chased, hunted, and savagely attacked that she revisited on a nightly basis would jerk her out of sleep, heart pounding and sobbing in fear. They were the kind of things that made a person never want to go back to sleep for as long as they lived.
“You know,” Khaki said as she stood up and strapped on the last of her gear, “there are people you can talk to about stuff like this. I know Cooper talked to a psychologist a few times and really thinks highly of her. I’m sure he could get you in to see her.”
Rachel hadn’t realized their pack mate had seen a psychologist. Before she could answer, footsteps at the base of the stairs interrupted her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up Senior Corporal Xander Riggs’s scent. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Khaki’s help, but she seriously didn’t want a shrink poking around in her head. She already knew she had a few screws loose. If a therapist confirmed it, the department would put her on administrative leave. She couldn’t let that happen.
Xander’s voice floated up from below. “You two almost done up there? The guys and I would like to clean up in this century. Unless you’re cool with the idea of working alongside a bunch of sweaty male werewolves all day.”
Rachel looked over at Khaki, who returned her smile.
“I could think of a lot worse ways to spend the day,” her friend admitted. “Especially if we can convince them to take their shirts off.”
Rachel laughed as Xander grumbled down below, making out like he was jealous. It was all an act, of course. No one could ever come between Khaki and Xander. He might be Khaki’s squad leader on the SWAT team, but he was alsoThe Onefor Khaki—her soul mate—just as she was for him. In any other SWAT team in the country, cops would never be allowed to have a relationship with a fellow officer. But in their world, it was something that was accepted. Finding a soul mate was extremely important to a werewolf. Not to mention rare.
Too bad there wasn’t a chance of Rachel finding her soul mate among the Pack. While there wasn’t a single guy on the team who wasn’t sexy AF, unfortunately they were all like brothers to her. The idea of getting busy with any of them was enough to make her want to yak. Just her luck. Here she was, surrounded by the most amazing men she’d ever been around in her life, and none of them did a thing for her.
“Oh, and Rachel,” Xander called from below. “Gage wants to see you in his office.”
Rachel had to fight to keep her inner wolf from coming out in pure self-defense as an inexplicable terror overtook her.
Sergeant Gage Dixon was the commander of the Dallas SWAT team, as well as alpha of their pack of alphas. When Rachel had shown up at the compound out of the blue, eager to join the Pack, he’d gone out of his way to welcome her and make her feel like this was the place she was supposed to be. But while he was a great guy and the best boss she’d ever worked for, there was a reason Gage was the head of the Pack. The man was completely in charge and nothing ever got past him.
What if he knew there was something wrong with her and was going to tell her he was putting her on leave—or worse?
The panic must have shown on her face because Khaki sat down beside her and gently touched her arm.
“Relax,” Khaki said. “There’s no way Gage could know about the nightmares. He probably just wants to talk about work stuff, maybe even something to do with that STAT unit you worked with out in LA.”
Rachel’s inner wolf retreated as she considered that. The Special Threat Assessment Team—aka STAT—was the joint CIA and FBI task force that had helped Rachel and the guys take down the vampires. Apparently, STAT had been aware of the existence of werewolves and other supernatural creatures for some time. While it was a little scary to have the Pack on the government’s radar, at least the organization seemed to be interested in developing a working relationship with them. They’d even asked Gage if they could use members of the Pack to help them deal with some of their more dangerous cases. But the thing that had really convinced Rachel and the others to trust the STAT people was when they’d discovered that fellow werewolf and SWAT cop Zane Kendrick had found his soul mate in a member of the task force.
She gave Khaki a small smile. “You’re probably right. I’m just tense from lack of sleep.”
Standing up, she headed for the steps, stopping on the way to scratch Kat behind the ears.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the slick way you avoided giving me an answer about getting some help with those nightmares,” Khaki said, her voice making Rachel pause and look over her shoulder. “You have to stop going it alone, Rachel. If you’re not going to see a psychologist, then at least find some good-looking guy and engage in a little pillow-talk therapy.”
Rachel laughed and started down the stairs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Khaki’s advice might be sound, but the truth of the matter was that Rachel hadn’t slept with a guy since being attacked in Chattanooga and going through her change. At first, her life had been too insane, as she’d tried to learn how to control her inner wolf. Between moving to Dallas and spending time in LA, she hadn’t had time to even think of dating. These days, she couldn’t imagine simply picking up some random guy for a booty call. She wasn’t sure she knew how to do that anymore. Even if the idea did sound inviting.
* * *
Rachel knocked once on Gage’s open office door, then walked in, a donut wrapped in a napkin in hand. The offering was partly an attempt to put him in a good mood—in case he wasn’t—and partly an apology for being late. It truly wasn’t her fault that she’d been forced to take a detour over to the training building. There was no way he could expect her to ignore the delicious scent of donuts. She didn’t know how it could be scientifically/biologically possible, but she was convinced she was addicted to the baked goodies.
“Someone brought donuts?” Gage asked, glancing up from his paperwork with an amused expression as she set the napkin with the Boston cream in the center of his desk calendar. She’d intended to bring him two but had gotten tempted by the sweet pastry on the way over from the other building and eaten one. The reminder of how delicious the yummy, chocolate-topped, cream-filled confection tasted made her want to reconsider offering one to Gage. “Is it a special occasion or just because it’s Tuesday?”
Rachel sat down in one of the two chairs in front of his desk with a laugh. As far as she was concerned, a person didn’t need a reason to eat donuts. “Cooper brought them in to celebrate. He and Everly found out last night that she’s pregnant. He’s pretty excited about becoming a dad, even if all the guys are ragging him about having a little Mini Cooper for the Pack to play with.”
