It was then she realized that the room had suddenly grown chillier and a sense of dread filled her. Something was going on between these two and Maggie was determined to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.
Chapter Thirteen
Anatoly sensed right away what Luka Markov really was and thus he knew instantly he wasn’t their killer. A killer, certainly, but not the one responsible for Father Abrams’s murder.
The priest could smell it though, the ruthless nature of the looming beast within. This man was not just a werewolf, but an alpha at that. He was running a pack operation here and that’s why he was such a successful criminal; tightly run packs were nigh unstoppable.
A cold rock settled in the pit of Anatoly’s stomach as he contemplated the extreme danger they had found themselves in. Maggie thought she was dealing with a kingpin and nothing more, but Anatoly wasn’t sure he could protect her if Markov shifted and that thought terrified him.
He wouldn’t relax until they were well away from this place and its inhabitants. Even then, he couldn’t guarantee the werewolf would lose interest. Hopefully, they’d not offended him too much.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Markov rumbled in Russian, which drew another sound of disapproval from Maggie.
“Nyet,” Anatoly answered. “The detective and I have infringed on your time enough—” he started to add, but Markov cut him off with a glare.
The werewolf was larger, no doubt meaner, but Anatoly knew better than to back down. Especially after failing to maintain his cool in front of the sparking lighter. Had he been more prepared, the fire wouldn’t have bothered him: the ember from the cigar certainly didn’t.
“I still have questions, Mr. Markov,” Maggie asserted, placing a hand on her hip in such a way that her badge was visible beneath her brown leather jacket.
Her lips parted to say more, but the werewolf beat her to it. “No, policewoman, you do not. As the good father has said, you’ve already infringed enough on my time. It would be bad manners to interrogate me in my own office.”
“Good, then you can come in with me and answer a few questions in my office,” Maggie shot back, a smug grin tugging up her plump lips in a way that would have been appealing to him had Anatoly not been tensing for the worst.
Maggie had guts, he’d give her that. Staring down a crime lord was no small feat and she’d done it without flinching. A trace of pride warmed him despite the tension.
To Anatoly’s immense relief instead of tearing them both to shreds, the werewolf chuckled. It was a gruff, resonate sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
“You amuse me, policewoman, and because of that, I won’t devour you. Now, get out and don’t return unless you have a warrant.” There was a dangerous lilt to his voice, an unspoken threat looming amongst them like a bad omen.
Maggie looked as though she were about to argue, but Anatoly interrupted her without hesitation. “Come, Detective,” he insisted, taking a firm hold of her upper arm to show her how sincere he was.
A spark of anger flashed in her dark eyes and he knew immediately that he had made another mistake where she was concerned. This was not the time to hash that out and thankfully, Maggie must have recognized that as well because she grudgingly let him guide her out of the office.
The guards fell into step, one guiding them through the halls and the other trailing behind just as they had on the way inside. In minutes they were back outside, striding toward Maggie’s vehicle in uncomfortable silence.
Anatoly opened his mouth to speak more than once, but each time, thought better of it. He didn’t want to rush her and so he held his tongue, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.
It wasn’t until they were cruising down the city streets a few minutes later that she finally broke through the quiet thrum of the car around them. “You deliberately interfered?—”
“Maggie…”
“Don’t ‘Maggie’ me,” she snapped back before he could find the words to tell her just how close to death they’d come.
He was certain if she had pressed, she’d have been considered a threat, but that she backed down, in large part because Anatoly had forced the issue, he was sure Markov wouldn’t retaliate. A killer he may have been, but a stupid man he was not.
“Why did you make me leave? I wasn’t intimidated by that brute of a man?—”
“It was not bluff. That man is killer, Maggie,” he insisted, trying to make her see without blurting out that it wasn’t just a man but a monster masquerading as one. Just like him. But at least he wasn’t murderous. He’d never harmed anyone, not even as a vampire, and had always fed from willing subjects. Could Markov say the same?
“I’m a cop, Anatoly. I’m not afraid of killers. If I was I wouldn’t be able to do this job.” She kept talking, but Anatoly only shook his head, unwilling to back down.
When she went quiet, a frown marring her brow, he interjected with ringing conviction, “Luka Markov is not man who murdered Father Abrams.”
Maggie slowed the car to a halt at a stoplight before turning in the seat to stare pointedly at him. “How the hell could you know that, Father?”
He clenched his jaw at the hint of doubt in her tone. Of course she didn’t believe him. Markov was her best lead right now and that meant she wasn’t going to back off him without some explanation. Except he couldn’t just tell her that Markov was a werewolf…
“Markov appears to me as predator, but he is practical predator. He kills for necessity, not thrill. Man who killed Father Abrams did so for thrill, da?” he said instead.
