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“Yes.”

“Your name?”

“Rachel Becker, MD.”

“You work in New Orleans or here on vacation?”

“I’m staying with a friend.”

He took her address and phone number. “So who is this hero?”

Rachel pressed her fingers against her temple, buying herself time. If Lev was some sort of spy, she didn’t want to blow his cover. “Lev. He saw me eating dinner alone and invited me to join him. After dinner, we walked here for the festivities.”

“Last name?”

Rachel knew Lev’s last name was Volkov, but she didn’t mention it. Not out of choice. Couldn’t say it, as if not able to. As if compelled not to. “I don’t think he said his last name. I only know he was here on business.”

“What type of business?”

Rachel thought it best not to say anything more about his work or that he’d been her father’s patient. Her tongue refused to say anything. “Not sure. Like I said, we only met and decided to hang out.”

“I see.”

“Please, you need to search for him. He might be hurt.”

“Ma’am, no one could have survived the blast. Search dogs are being brought in to comb the area.”

Rachel refused to accept his death. “He could have gotten away?”

“It’s a remote possibility, but if he survived, the dogs will find him. Either way, he’ll be honored as a hero.” He gave her his card. “I’ll personally call you as soon as I know anything more.”

Rachel clutched his card next to her heart and nodded. She should notify the hotel he might have been killed. Maybe go in and see if there was next of kin to notify. Yet, he never mentioned the exact hotel where he’d made reservations, only that was in the French Quarter. Shouldn’t be too difficult to locate. It would be the right thing to do. At least leave a message for his business contact. As a last resort, she’d contact Howard. He might know who to get a hold of.

Rachel slowly walked home, turning around every few steps, hoping to see him wave to her. That he survived. She shook her head and sighed. Only wishful thinking. Who knew that one last possessive kiss would have been her last memory of Lev?

Chapter 5

Lev snapped out of unconsciousness and shifted to wolf form. He swam out of the murky waters and dragged himself onto the muddy shore. He shook the water off his fur. His hearing returned to normal, or rather above normal, even for a werewolf with already superior ears. Distant sirens blared. He flared his nose. Search dogs.

He needed to get the hell out of there before the LIA got word of his whereabouts. Lev had no interest in explaining why he had stalked Rachel, his forbidden fruit. He hid in the bramble as search dogs eagerly sniffed. Too damn close. At least the scent hounds were off-lead. Easier to scare off.

Two hounds approached him, whining as if trying to figure out what a wolf was doing in an area.

Lev gave a low growl.

The dogs yelped, tucked their tail between their legs and bolted in the opposite direction.

Lev couldn’t check into his hotel naked or as a big black wolf. He had no choice. He must sneak into his rental vehicle parked in the hotel lot and grab fresh clothes. If anyone saw him, he’d compel them to forget. He would have done that with Rachel after he brought her home. However, the ticking bomb forced him to change his plans.

He dashed through areas least populated with revelers. With all the festivities and commotion with the explosive, he entered the parking lot without notice and shifted to human form. Fortunately, the stench of the waters disappeared when he shifted.

Lev opened his suitcase and hastily dressed behind the car.

He checked in at the hotel. Reservations were under his alias, Max Jorvik. He would get some sleep and check out before dawn. Fly back to Montana and hope Rachel would forget him. Perhaps think he died in the explosion. Better that way.

As he passed the bar, the television broadcasted news about the bomb near the fireworks show. He didn’t hang out for a drink, in case someone recognized him. Instead, he immediately entered his room. A king-size bed awaited him. A bed, he’d been tempted to share with Rachel. I have to stop t

hinking she’s mine. He grabbed the remote and turned on the news. He exhaled in relief. There were a few with life-threatening injuries, but only three deaths. Boats tossed and capsized. He had used all of his speed and strength to take the bomb as far away from boats as possible.


Tags: Eva Gordon Team Greywolf Fantasy