Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) (11 page)

“
M
onaghan
! WHERE ARE YOU.”

Kara had the phone on speaker, and Mazzagatti’s voice boomeranged around her CTS. It took her a moment to recover.

“I…I had to go to the morgue.”

“Like hell you did. I just talked to Strathers. You wanna try again?”

Her throat went dry as she gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes on the road. “I had to grab a bite to eat after, but I was there. I didn’t see him either. I was with Dr. Peters. Like you told me.”

“Peters isn’t there either,” the Captain’s deep voice grated.

Kara blinked at the stop sign as she rolled through.
Why isn’t Dr. Peters there? Did the Russians find out what he did?
“We didn’t leave together. But I saw him. When I got there he showed me the broken leg, said it was broken from a fall, not a kick. I said it didn’t matter. Maybe he got pissed and left after? I don’t know!”

The Captain was silent.
Please believe me. God, please, please believe me.
It was the story she and Dr. Peters had invented so that their stories matched in case they got questioned. And it was true—she had been at the morgue. She should have checked in with the lead coroner to prove that, but it never occurred to her, what with being bombarded when she’d arrived, with the strangeness of Dr. Peter’s plan.

Where is he??

“Sir…is that why you called?”

“No. Katarina Vidlova, the woman you found this morning, has been shot.”

Kara pulled the car over so fast she left skid marks on the asphalt. “What?!”

“The cop stationed outside her door went in and shot her right after Slater, Rodriguez, and Fisher left. He shot Dr. Matthews, too, then he took off.” His voice got heavier as he added, “They tried to save her. Save them both. They didn’t make it.”

Kara stared at nothing. Realizing he was waiting for her to say something, she could only croak, “He wasn’t a real cop?”

“He was. Deputy Reo. Been on the force for eight years. Turns out he was also working for the enemy. Just one more man Viktor Kruglov had under his thumb.”

Kara couldn’t breathe. Her hand went to her throat as it constricted under the image of that poor helpless woman lying there, and the psychiatrist’s eyes going wide, her hand thrown out as the bullet whizzed toward her, taking away her future.

“Monaghan! You there?”

She couldn’t answer. Searching under her seat, she dug out a water bottle that still had a bit in the bottom. She sucked down the precious spare drops. “I…I never should have left.”

“You were under direct orders to go. But had you…” he trailed off.

“Had I what, sir?”

“Nothing.” He let out a deeply discouraged exhale. “I was going to say had you not gone to eat, you would have been there. But that’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“No. He waited for the detectives to leave. You wouldn’t have known.”

Kara knew that made sense, but emotions don’t sync with the mind. They’re dictated by the heart, and Kara knew in hers that she shouldn’t have been where she was, or doing what she was doing. The world around her began to spin as she realized the truth. She wasn’t as good as she thought she was. She wasn’t a good police officer. She wasn’t even a good person. She’d fucked a vigilante when she should have been shooting a rotten cop in the head.

“I’m going to find him, sir. I’m going to find him.”

“Kruglov?”

Her jaw was tight, eyes hard. “Him too.”

There was a pause, then Mazzagatti ordered her, “Get back here, now.” At her silence, he said, “Detective!”

“I’m on my way.”

“You’ll hurry when you hear the good part.”

Her eyebrows went up. “How can there possibly be…”

“Fisher got the names.”

Kara hung up and tucked the phone away. When it vibrated again, she knew it was him calling back. But she didn’t answer it. He didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was killing those bastards and then doing what had to be done. Find Deputy Reo, and find Viktor Kruglov. Kill them both. Take them down the only way possible. And the cops had nothing to do with that. They’d never been able to get far…for a reason.

Some things have to be done outside the law.

As she drove back to the precinct, she remembered her promise to Katarina. That no one would ever hurt her again. That she was safe with them. That it was all over.

At least now she won’t be haunted by the memories anymore.

W
hen Kara returned
, she convinced the Captain that she was fine. That she had an idea. One that would work. She told him the plan. He gathered the Mafia Task Force together and laid it out for all of them while she stood by his side, lips tight with resignation, hands locked behind her straight back. She knew this would be her last day here.
I won’t miss anyone,
she thought to herself.
Except maybe him.

She listened to him assign jobs to different officers. Watched their heads nod, their eyes somber and almost excited. Hers fell to Lanky and Lennox as their names were called. The sneer in their smiles inspired her silent promise,
I’m going to be watching you. Only this time I won’t have to be so nice.

After the force had been briefed for hours, when everyone knew their jobs and all the Russian’s locations were confirmed, they set out. As planned, the Chicago P.D. spread out and attacked with the element of surprise. No one had time to warn anyone. The five Russians who’d violated Katarina Vidlova simply because she’d said no, went down in a hail of bullets.

They discovered two in their own homes. Shouts and shots rang out as their wives and children hid. One of the two was killed as he rushed the cops outside his house, firing until he collapsed in a bloody mess. He took one officer with him. The other was taken away in handcuffs, their only capture. Returning to the men’s houses to question the wives and even their children, they found them gone. Drawers were left open with abandoned articles of clothing hanging out or dropped on the floor. Office desks cleared out of everything but stray paperclips.

Two more men were discovered together having dinner at Jibek Julu, a few blocks from their homes. Dropping forkfuls of potato pierogi and lagman, they reached for their weapons. The detectives had them beat, rushing in with guns in hand, yelling to the other patrons, “GET DOWN!” Despite the Captain having said he wanted the men brought in alive, if possible, it just wasn’t. In order to save the lives of civilians, they had to lose theirs.

The fifth and final man—the one who’d confronted Curragh—hung himself in his bedroom closet. They’d missed the window by seconds. When they arrived, his body was still jerking in the noose. They went to save him, but Kara shouted, “No!”

As she was their commanding officer and the originator of the plan, the three officers backed away and looked to her with confusion. With her eyes locked on the creep, she stepped forward and whispered, “I hope there is a hell and that in it, you’re the devil’s bitch.”

She waited until he was lifeless, then with eyes as dead as his, she turned and walked past her grim co-workers out of the room. “Job well done, gentleman.”

She felt their exchanged glances behind her, but didn’t care.

After they discovered the only captured, living Russian dead the next morning, they sent him to the morgue to find out what happened. But no one was hopeful.

The Captain gathered the task force together again. Officers stood around desks, some sat in chairs. None had slept.

“We made a big step yesterday. We got closer to Kruglov. He can feel us breathing down his neck maybe for the first time. We believe these were five of his key men, not the low level minions we’ve encountered more often than not. We don’t know what they were planning when they gathered together in that location, but we know they can’t execute it now.”

“Because
we
executed
them
,” Lennox snickered. Some officers chuckled. The Captain’s somber expression shut them up.

“We have where they lived, their home addresses and can trace all mail to and from. And we have cell phone numbers. I want everyone on this immediately. Tracing calls. Questioning neighbors. Checking camera footage.” A hand raised. “Rodriguez?”

“Sir, just like at Bill Tutors house, there were no cameras. We think Kruglov does this to remain invisible if he happens to pay them a visit.”

The Captain nodded once. He wasn’t surprised. “Check the neighbor’s homes. Have any of them hired security? Someone’s gotta want to talk. I want every possibility investigated. You did good. Now give me more.”

Everyone moved to leave as the Captain headed to his office, except Lanky. He approached Mazzagatti with a question that was on everyone’s mind. “Where’s Monaghan?”

The room stopped shuffling. People leaving froze where they were, out of curiosity.

The Captain turned and with all the subtlety that was his dignified way, told the room, “Detective Monaghan has resigned.” At the whispers and surprised looks, he headed out. But Lanky wasn’t done, and Lennox followed close behind his buddy.

“She just quit?” he asked the Captain as they walked through the long hallway.

“She turned in her badge last night. I think the women’s deaths yesterday morning hit her hard.”

Over the sound of three pairs of heavy footsteps Lennox snickered, “Women shouldn’t be in a job they can’t stomach.”

The Captain spun on him. “If officers like you didn’t do everything in your power to make their life hell, maybe then they’d have a better chance. We made progress today, because of Monaghan.” He shot them both a look that made them feel like children. “Now why don’t you find a way to make YOURSELVES that useful, and get out of my face. You’re dismissed for the day.”

They stared after him as he continued alone to his office.

G
iving
her badge and gun to the Captain had been more painful than she’d anticipated, and when she returned to her apartment that night, it felt dark and lonely for the first time. Now it was two nights later, and the feeling had only gotten worse. Even though she’d moved to this city alone, it hadn’t felt that way. She’d come here knowing who she was. A cop. Just like she’d always dreamed she’d be. Her job had defined her.

Who am I? What am I now? If I’m not a detective, then what?

She stared out of her balcony window at what little of the city she could see. Her view wasn’t the best. Mostly of other buildings and a crack that led to high rises in the distance. Through that slip of steel and paint, she fixed an aimless gaze. The idea of knocking on Curragh’s garage door and asking to be admitted into their underground boys club played out in her mind. The rejection was probable, and something she didn’t believe she could stomach. The rejection she’d received on the force from the men, she let their jabs, leers, and pushbacks fall off her back like water off a duck. But she cared what Curragh thought. She cared much more than she wanted to.

Do I dare?

Walking back to her kitchen, she opened the cabinet and grabbed the whiskey she’d poured for them. Memories of the recent night when he’d come to her for solace, danced in her mind’s eye. The way he’d kissed her was different than the other times. All the ways he’d touched her had been desperate and almost loving.

There’s no way he loves me.

She poured too much and walked the drink back to the closed balcony door. It was cold outside tonight. The unforgiving Chicago winds whistled against the glass pane asking permission to come in and claim the aching emptiness inside her.

But he does want Viktor as badly as I do. That we have in common.

The burn of the booze sliding down her throat made her flinch. She hadn’t known how dry her mouth had been until then. Two cars drove down her street, and she followed them without moving her head like one of those eerie paintings where hollow eyes stay on you as you walk by. As soon as she had nothing left to look at, she turned and grazed a slow appraising glance around her home. All of this stuff didn’t matter anymore. The empty walls seemed prophetic now, like they’d known all along she wouldn’t be staying.

She downed the whiskey and blanched, nearly coughing it up as she walked the empty glass back to the unlit kitchen. She wasn’t aware she’d not turned on the lights. Her body felt heavy and sad as she went to lie down in her bed.

As her head sunk into the pillow and she pulled the covers up under her chin, she made the decision.

I have to convince him I can’t do this alone.

“
W
as he still there
?”

“Nah,” Curragh muttered, looking around their new things.

“Did you wipe your prints off?”

“What do you think?” Xavier was always asking him stupid questions. Like he didn’t have a brain or something. “Just because you lived like a human longer…”

“Hey hey hey. I’m just checking.” Xavier rolled up his sleeves to continue pulling in the furniture they’d unloaded a half hour ago from the stolen truck. It had been destined for Milwaukee Furniture Store when Curragh hijacked it and knocked the driver out cold, leaving him on the side of the quiet road, a safe distance from traffic. When he’d returned the truck, the man was gone. Probably got a ride from someone driving by. They’d find the truck, too, at some point. Only it’d be three mattresses, three plastic wrapped comforter blankets, one pillow, one dresser, one dining set, two lamps and four medium sized rugs, short of their expected cargo.

The lamps weren’t something they thought they could use since the plant had been dead and empty for years. But turns out they needed power for the toilets to work and while they didn’t mind roughing it, they weren’t savages. Flushing was mandatory. For this common luxury they had to risk trusting their teenage I.T. guy. The kid was a rebel. He loved being sneaky in highly intellectual ways, not so much in street-wise ways. It hadn’t been hard to get him to agree to hack into ComEd to turn electricity on in the warehouse without the power giant being any the wiser. And he hadn’t asked why. They promised him money if he could access one of their accounts without anyone knowing. He was working on that problem now.

Curragh let the subject drop and dragged a mattress to the back where Draik was eyeing them. The werewolf’s advanced healing process was under way. Good thing he didn’t have a mirror, though.

“I’m hungry!” he called over.

“You’re always hungry,” Curragh chuckled, throwing the mattress down with a flurry of dust. “Aren’t you glad you have a couple of bitches to wait on you hand and foot?”

“Right?” Xavier smirked. “And an ambulance to travel with? You have to admit, Howard did well by us with that idea.”

“I don’t have to admit anything.” A knock at the garage door turned everyone towards it fast. His dark-eyed friend grimly stared at the metal, and said, under his breath. “Were you followed?”

“There was no one.” Both wolves motioned back to Draik to stay where he was. They silently prepared for a battle, ready to protect themselves and him.

The knock came again, louder this time. It didn’t sound particularly aggressive and that was what bothered them. The Russians were known for being sneaky. What better way to approach than to appear non-threatening before attacking with an army.

“Howard?” Curragh asked.

Xavier motioned to the pocket where his phone was, and shook his head. No call had come from him.

“Well, let’s do this,” Curragh muttered, walking to the chain. His wolf thrashed about as his human side remained ready to unleash it. He gripped the manual lever and began to turn.

Black jeans over women’s boots appeared first. Curragh glanced over to Xavier who was ready to pounce. His packmate motioned for him to hurry up. He pulled faster, but then a suitcase came into view…and voluptuous hips he knew all too well.

“What the fuck?” he sputtered as Kara leaned over and peered in, her long dark hair cascading down in straight sheets.

She said, without inflection, her eyes flat, “Hey.”

“Get inside.”

“Her car, too,” Xavier said, looking past her for stragglers she hadn’t seen.

“Since you’re already sticking your head out there...” Kara threw him the keys. “…do the honors for me, would ya?”

Xavier caught them with confusion on his face. But he wasn’t going to say anything. This wasn’t his problem.

With his eyes flitting repeatedly from the large suitcase to Kara’s off-duty attire—that blouse and cropped leather jacket were fucking hot as hell—Curragh waited for the Cadillac to be parked. He spun the iron wheel again until they were all shut safely inside.

Jumping out of the car Xavier asked, “Were you followed?”

Kara shook her head, but her eyes were fixed on Curragh. “I was careful.”

“What’s with that?” Curragh motioned to the bag on rollers, probably the largest one on the market. “You’ve got guns in there for us?”

With the shine in her eyes still gone, she chuckled, “No…I’m joining you.” She motioned to the others. “All of you.”

It took him a second to take it in, then he stood taller and puffed out his chest as he crossed his arms. “No, you’re not.”

She glanced around the unorganized new furniture. “I see you’re getting settled in.” With sarcasm she half-smiled, “Have these shipped from Amazon?”

Xavier walked up behind her, grabbed her suitcase and headed back. “I think we’re about to hear a story. Come and meet Draik.”

Kara glanced over and did a double take as Draik waved at her. She blinked a few times and raised a slow hand, then walked to Curragh who hadn’t moved. Her smell had already drifted into his nostrils and as she got closer it was sheer torture. He gritted his teeth against the urge to pull her to him. His wolf had gone from aggression to lust within seconds and it was hard to think. “You can’t stay here,” he grated through clenched teeth. This woman had something on him he’d never experienced before.

Kara’s face was stone-like. “I quit my job. I’m not a cop anymore. I don’t want to explain my reasons except for one thing—I can’t do what I need to do and live by their rules.”

“What do you need to do?” Xavier asked first. Curragh was still reeling, and silence was his way of showing it.

Kara’s face couldn’t have been more serious. “I need to kill Viktor Kruglov. Or, if you do it, I want to be there. I want to watch that man die.” The words seemed to echo longer because they boomeranged off the insides of everyone’s chests. All present wanted the exact same thing. “And that’s not exactly legal, now is it? So, I’m joining you.” She stepped close and touched Curragh’s cheek, saying in a more private volume, “I quit my dream job and I’m here, begging you to let me be a part of whatever this thing you’ve got going, is. And you can’t say no because I have nowhere else to go.” Liquid gathered in the corners of her eyes. The cold and distant expression was masking a wealth of pain. “I need your help.”

Curragh struggled against softening to her. In an effort to maintain control, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his skin. Her touch was too much. “Why do you want him dead?”

“The woman they raped. Katarina. She’s dead. The deputy protecting her was working for Kruglov.” Kara waited until his imagination filled in the blanks.

“No.” He closed his eyes as injustice swept through him. It was quickly replaced with rage. “XAVIER!”

Xavier gruffly said, “I heard,” as he strode back to join them. “Doesn’t matter. She can’t stay.”

Even though his wolf wanted him to punch his packmate for saying that, Curragh growled, “I know.”

The softness in her eyes was replaced instantly with stubborn determination. “Well, I’m not leaving. You’re going to have to physically carry me out! And then I’ll just…” she trailed off and turned away, running both hands through her long hair in frustration.

“She can’t,” Xavier said, more quietly, with dark eyes on his friend. They weren’t human. They couldn’t have a woman living with them without her asking questions about Draik’s healing. Only days from now he’d been back to normal. At least on the outside.

It didn’t matter that what he said was the truth. She had to go. Curragh’s wolf was going nuts. He could barely see straight from the crashing that was going on inside him. The mere idea that he had to turn her away—again, when she was this close—was something his beast didn’t fucking want at all. He shook his head from reflex trying to shake the rage building inside, and surprised himself by shouting, “GET IN YOUR CAR!”