Enforcer's Heart: (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Stratton Wolves Book 3)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Enforcer’s Heart

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

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  Enforcer’s Heart

  Stratton Wolves: Book 3

  MINA CARTER

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Copyright

  Copyright 2015 Mina Carter

  Cover Art by Mina Carter

  Published by Blue Hedgehog Press: May 2015.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Author's note: All sexually active characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  Chapter One

  A week to full moon. Riley Copeland passed a tired hand over his face, trying to rub away the exhaustion. Crap, he needed it bad. Like now kind of bad.

  He blinked and forced himself to concentrate on the road as he drove around the pack territory on his nightly patrol. As enforcer for the Stratton werewolf pack, it was his job to ensure everything remained calm and peaceful. He took his job, and the faith placed in him by his pack alpha very seriously.

  Not only was Max his alpha, but also his brother-in-law, which meant if Riley fucked up, he’d have to face his sister, Kelli, as well. Max was scary. Kelli in a mood was a whole new level of do not fuck with, especially now she was pregnant again. Even Max found reasons to be out of the house, or even out of town when she went on the warpath.

  Riley had no intention of making himself a target for the alpha female, even if she was his sister. Hence his diligence on patrol when all he wanted was to collapse on his bed. Alone. A sigh escaped him. Times past, he would’ve returned to a warm bed occupied by the woman he loved.

  Loved. Past tense. Jenna, his ex-wife, made it more than clear she'd rather see him six feet under. It was hard to love a woman who hated your guts that much. Because they’d been bonded with a midsummer claim, the resulting mess had almost sent his wolf over the edge. So much so, Max had resorted to shipping in a witch to break the bond between their inner beasts. Jenna had whined and bitched at first, until she realized she’d be free of him. The woman who’d claimed to love him.

  He snorted. Love. Ha! Love was a lie perpetrated by the media and soppy chick flick films. They all glorified the myth of love at first sight. Love conquered all. Lies. All lies. The fairytale ended with the wedding, and reality set in. Then you were fucked, especially if you were a wolf.

  Human courts might end a marriage, but nothing could reverse a bite. Something Jenna had found out to her cost when the perceived glamor of being a werewolf had worn off. A spoilt brat all her life, she’d expected power and new abilities, not to be on the bottom rung of the pack ladder. Their marriage had been doomed from the start.

  His jaw clenched as he turned another corner and drove slowly down the street. No other vehicles graced the road so he didn’t need to concentrate much. Then the hackles on the back of his neck stiffened. His focus sharpened, courtesy of his wolf, bringing everything around him into sharp relief.

  The street was empty, nothing out of place. Then movement between two buildings caught his eye. He stopped, sighed. In an alley at the back of the diner, a group of teenagers had a woman cornered. Even from here, he could tell they were wolves. They moved too fluidly to be anything else.

  Slamming the truck into park, he leaped out and strode down the alley. Moon save him from dumb-fuck teenagers.

  The connection between him and his wolf was always there, always on, but usually it was a thin sliver. Little more than a crack to allow him to pull power from the beast hidden within. Now he pushed it wider and drew the creature from his soul to sit just under his human form. Power filled him, his sense of smell expanding until he could scent colors, and fur brushed the inside of his skin.

  Concentrating on the scene ahead, he bit back a surge of fury. They were wolves all right, four of them, not more than sixteen years old. Three were exchange students from another pack, staying with the Jenson family. The fourth was the Jenson boy… James or Jordan? Maybe? Riley didn’t pay much attention to the kids in the general pack. As enforcer, if any of them came to his notice, it wasn’t for a good reason. Like now.

  The four had Layla, the pretty waitress from the diner, surrounded. Sensible girl had her back to the wall so they couldn’t get behind her, and a small tube in her hand.

  “Stay back. Leave me alone.” She lifted the canister threateningly, and just as Riley neared, pressed the top. A blast of sound ripped through the air, too high for humans to hear, but excruciating for a wolf’s sensitive ears.

  Riley winced, wiggling his jaw until the noise stopped, but it rocked the younger wolves back on their heels.

  “Bitch!”

  “She’s a human, Dez. She can’t stop us.” One of them urged another. “Grab it and we can have fun with her.”

  Huh. Fun. Over his dead body.

  Shoulder leaning against the wall, Riley cleared his throat.

  Four heads snapped around. The Jenson boy paled, but the other three turned, arrogance and threat wrapped around them like a cloak. Layla didn’t take her eyes off them, her finger firm on the trigger of the canister in hand.

  “Shit, that’s Riley. Guys, we need to get out of here,” James, or whatever his name was, said, backing up. His family were long-standing members of the Stratton pack, so he was more than aware of Riley’s reputation.

  “Yeah? Why?” One of the others sneered, looking Riley up and down. “All I see is an old dude.”

  Riley bit back his smile. For a sixteen-year-old, anything over twenty was ancient. “Old dude, is it? Well, this Methuselah is giving you one chance to walk away.”

  The three wolves stalked toward him. From the city, they were full of swagger and bravado, with what looked like human gang symbols scrawled on their jackets. Riley had heard youngsters running with gangs were a problem in the rougher areas of the city nearby. For the gangs, it was a good move. They used the young wolves like enforcers, there to kick ass and take names, then mete out punishment when required. Since they couldn’t be taken down without heavy duty firepower and silver bullets, it gave the gangs with wolves an advantage.

  “Walk awa
y?! Ha!” The kid in the middle, apparently the leader, laughed. “Old man, we gonna fuck you over. Big time.”

  Riley sighed and pushed off the wall. Unfortunately, given they were top “dogs” in their human-run world, it gave gang wolves like these an overinflated sense of their own abilities. He doubted any of them had faced another wolf in a fight, much less a wolf like him.

  In any pack, enforcers were special. Alpha wolves who could challenge for leadership but instead swore an oath to the pack alpha, as he had with Max. He’d been a kid when Max took control of the pack. Riley could take Max in a challenge fight. Not that he ever would. That was what the enforcer’s vow was about: loyalty and protection.

  “Guys,” James Jenson warned. “Seriously, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “Shut it, you fucking pussy. Stay back there if you’re scared,” one snarled over his shoulder, then the three closed in on Riley.

  He stood in the middle of the alley, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders and waited for them to come to him. They worked as a pack, circling him, but he’d expected that. Just as he expected them to rush him together. No one-on-one fighting for these cowards. They used their combined might to take down their prey.

  Unfortunately for them, he wasn’t anyone’s prey.

  Claws sliced air where his head was, but Riley wasn’t there anymore. Dropping to the ground, he swept the nearest one’s legs, rolled, and slammed his elbow into the kid’s throat. The elbow was the hardest point on the body, a fact which was very useful in a fight. Driven with force, it crushed the softer tissues of the throat nicely.

  Before the kid gurgled a scream, scrabbling at his throat, Riley moved. Flipping back to his feet, he slammed a fist twice into the second kid’s face, shattering his nose before twisting to clip his jaw with a vicious uppercut. The kid sailed upward and back in a graceful arc to land in a crumpled heap.

  That left one. The leader. His eyes were wide; white showed all around his human irises. Not a hint of wolf in the dark brown orbs. Creature obviously knew better and hid so deeply that if Riley hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the kid was human.

  “Please…Don’t hurt me…” the kid whimpered, and a sharp, acrid stink filled the alleyway. Riley looked down. A dark stain spread over the front of the kid’s pants.

  “Great. Just fucking great.” He sighed, reaching into his back pocket for the silver-laced zip ties he carried for occasions like these.

  Grabbing the kid, Riley spun him and secured his wrists in a practiced movement, looking at the Jenson boy over his shoulder. “And for the record, brats like you have no chance of ‘fucking up’ an enforcer. Period. By pack law, since you attacked a human, I could rip your fucking throats out. You know that, right?”

  “We didn’t mean to break the law. She was asking for it!” Wails erupted from both conscious youths. But the words irritated the fuck out of Riley.

  “Asking for it? Asking for it? How?” he demanded, looking at Layla. She had crept out of the corner toward him. Toward safety. All the human inhabitants of the town knew Riley’s reputation, knew the pack had laws to protect them, and Riley was responsible for enforcing those laws.

  “In what way was she asking for it? Being pretty and catching your eye?” He spun the kid around, yanking him up by the shirt until they were nose to nose. “No means no. Just because you’re bigger and stronger doesn’t mean you take what you want. Doesn’t mean she owes you anything, not even the time of day. Understand?”

  The kid became a nodding dog toy, the kind Riley had stuck on the front dashboard of his truck. Hissing in disgust, he shoved him away and looked at the Jenson boy.

  “Pick him up, and get in the truck,” he ordered, leaning down to grab the kid with the crushed throat, to throw him over a shoulder.

  Turning, he gave Layla a tight smile. “Room for one more, if you like. I’d prefer to know you got home safely and please accept my apologies on behalf of the pack for these idiots.”

  Her smile wavered a little, but she fell into step with him as he headed to his truck. “Apology accepted. Thank you for being here in time.”

  “I’m the enforcer. It’s what I do.” He slid her a sideways glance and smiled. This, doing his job and protecting the pack and its territory including its humans, made his life worthwhile. He’d found his calling.

  He was Riley, and he’d be an enforcer to the day he died.

  ***

  Clara Callahan, Ce to her friends, didn’t like the cold. In fact, dislike was way too tame a term. She hated the cold with the passion of a thousand fiery suns…deep down, loathed and despised it. The wind whipped between the buildings on either side of the street, one devoid of traffic at this hour of night. A business area, all was quiet at the moment. The cold, though, never clocked out.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ce,” Tom, her partner, chuckled as he eyed her thick coat and the scarf wrapped around her neck. She had to open her jacket to get to her gun, so neck warmth was a priority. “I’m surprised you can move in that lot.”

  “Huh. We can’t all be weirdly hot-blooded like you.” She flicked a glance at his light jacket and open collar. “Or is it cold-blooded? Never can remember. Anyway, what we got?”

  Instantly Tom’s manner snapped to professional as he indicated an alleyway in front of them. Ce ducked down to look through the windshield. They were in an upmarket area of the city--the old quarter, filled with little alleyways and quaint shops.

  “Got a report that Gabriani’s alarm is going off again. That makes four times this week. Uniform dropped by earlier in the week and advised him to get the system checked out again, but…” He shrugged and opened the car door.

  Ce sighed. She knew what that shrug meant: Gabriani had done absolutely jack with the alarm system. Despite the fact available personnel were back in the precinct, it was a cold and wet night, and she and Tom were already out.

  Which meant they got the call. Great.

  Her fantasies of a mug of hot chocolate (with marshmallows) while huddled next to the heater by her desk in the office faded, and she followed Tom into the alley. Even from here, they heard the alarm blaring, which grew louder as they approached.

  She whistled when the door came into view. The glass lay shattered, and the frame hung off the hinges. “Hell, someone went to town here.”

  “Too right,” Tom muttered, drawing his gun at the same moment she did, their movements synchronized. They’d worked together so long, they operated like a well-oiled machine.

  Her partner moving to the other side of the door, Ce put her back against the wall on her side and leaned in. “Ashville PD, come out with your hands up!”

  It was no use. The shriek of the alarm drowned her voice. She exchanged a glance with Tom, who shrugged. She was the one with the big mouth, and a temper to match, thanks to her Irish blood. Quietly spoken, Tom couldn’t beat her on volume.

  She jerked her head toward the door, indicating she was going in, and moved. Stepping through the wreckage, she kept her eyes wide and swept the room, gun muzzle level as she looked for signs of movement. Nothing. Behind her, Tom fiddled with the alarm box by the door.

  “Fuck,” Tom shouted over the noise. “Can’t get it to switch off. There must be a central control panel somewhere. Probably in the kitchen.”

  She nodded, but he didn’t take any notice. Stepping past her, gun ready, expression focused, he picked a path between the tables. She spared him a quick glance as she crossed to the other side of the room to walk parallel.

  Tall, sandy-haired and handsome, Tom was gorgeous, and she knew she was the envy of the ladies in the department. But she didn’t see him that way, nor him, her. They were buddies, partners, more like brother and sister than anything else. A romance between them was not just unlikely, it was more like a not-even-if-hell-freezes-over scenario.

  She returned her attention to her surroundings. Last service had been hours ago, so the restaurant was clean and ta
bles set for the morning. Had been. Past tense. Now it looked like a rhino had barrelled through, scattering chairs, linen, and cutlery. A few tables hadn’t survived the altercation, broken legs upright in surrender.

  Crap. What could have done damage like that? Concern settled low in her chest. She’d been here before, for a meal. The staff had been lovely. She hoped none of them were still here with whatever the hell had broken in.

  When she’d started on the force, things had been easier. Ghosts and ghouls, the werewolves, and other things that went bump in the night had kept to themselves. Sure, the PD knew they were around, but on the whole the paranormal community policed itself.

  These days, they couldn’t go a week without tripping over something supernatural. In the case of the siren who’d been murdered last week, literally. How were they supposed to know the body was slumped behind the door? Hell, they were even supposed to take anti-lycanthropy pills each morning just in case they got bitten.

  She grimaced…. Crap, she’d forgotten to take hers this morning. Oh well, not like they were going to run into any lunatic werewolves in a niche bistro in the middle of town, right? At least, she hoped not.

  The darkness seemed to close in, casting strange shadows and shapes around her. Nothing looked the same at night as it did in the light of day. It was as if a whole new world came out to play when everyone slept. The feeling took her back to childhood, creeping down the stairs for a midnight snack when she should have been asleep. She shook her head to keep in the present.

  She ignored the shadows, just a trick of her mind, and carried on down her side of the restaurant.

  They reached the entrance to the kitchen without incident. Two doors: one in, and one out. It was a sensible configuration, one that saved collisions by wait staff when they rushed in and out, and conveniently, she and Tom could enter the kitchen from different points. Doing so gave them overlapping arcs of fire and meant a lucky shot by the perp couldn’t take them both out.