Page 2 of Feral Attraction
Conall looked at the name.He looked at Dax.He glanced at the paper again.“It’s a female.”
“Yeah.Apparently the New York police force is an equal opportunity employer.Gotta problem with females?”
Con growled.“Is this your mate’s friend?”
Dax nodded.
Even better.Conall swept an errant chunk of sandy blond hair out of his eyes.Though it was short in the back, it was getting too long in the front.Time for a trim before it hindered his ability to hunt prey.
And then off to New York, one of the largest cities on Earth.Con had not shared his fears with anyone.He was beyond middle age for a wolf shifter.While others like him often mellowed as they grew older, he was turning more aggressive.He felt it in his blood, his bones, his muscles.His beast prowled just beneath his skin, wanting out too frequently.
His father, once alpha of the pack, became feral and had to be put down.Such was shifter law.Con was excused from the execution squad, but the death hit him hard.The biggest problem with his kind going wild was that they took others with them, almost like they carried a contagious infection.His father had gathered companions to join in his frenzied kills that cut a wide path across the realm.The deadly group murdered without a conscience—children, females, anyone they pleased.And the encounters were brutal, bloody, half-eaten flesh the only remnants of a once-living being.The explanation offered for their rampage was their insanity.
When the others in the group escaped retribution, Con went on his own killing spree.He brought down all of his father’s renegades but one wolf.To this day, that violent predator remained elusive.
Shortly after the hunt to bring the feral wolves to justice, Con was called to join the Scion Firebrands.It was an offer recruits didn’t turn down.He was assigned to Nace’s stronghold.The jag commander told Con, who showed signs of his burgeoning wild nature, to get his head out of his ass and leash his beast.He drove the point home with a clawed swipe across the cheek.Point made.
Like all the warriors, Con proudly wore the colorful brand of the Phoenix on his upper left arm, the beak pointing upward at his shoulder, the talons nearly at his elbow with the wings wrapping around his bicep.Written below, the tat read, “Natis in Igne.Probata est in Sanquinem.”Born in Fire.Tested in Blood.
The Phoenix called only the strongest who had a legacy among the warriors.His ancestor was his grandfather, now dead.A legend.Why Con was tapped when he was older and one step from feral was anyone’s guess.But the Phoenix was fickle.It chose only those it wanted.
He had hoped that by joining the Firebrands, he might skip the whole I’m-gonna-lose-my-shit that worried predatory shifters.Maybe not.His claws threatened to pop from his digits, and his canines filled his mouth.He needed to get control of himself.
It wasn’t as if anyone could tell a feral wolf from a non-feral one.They didn’t drool.Nor did their eyes spin around in their sockets.They simply killed for pleasure.Viciously.And although Con’s kills were sanctioned by the Firebrands, he had been putting his canines to work more vigorously.Whereas a clean capture had once been his goal, he now found himself drawn to increased blood splatter.
So, bring on the humans.He was ready to see how much he could take before he tore one of them apart and fed on their flesh.
Chapter Two
New York, NY, PresentDay
Her cell phone rang.“Detective Reyna Todd.”
“Rey.It’s Chiara.”
“Hey, girl.”She straightened in her chair, anxious to hear what her friend had to tell her.
