Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct by Brandi Broughton

change started. He watched as Gabe’s form dissolved in a sparkling brilliance, moved, shifted. The light brightened until Rafe had to blink. Then the energy faded, the particles reforming into a solid body of corded muscle and ebony fur.
    “Humph. That wasn’t the change I had in mind, but it’ll do.” Marge disappeared through the French doors.
    “I ought to make her bring me a leash.” Rafe chuckled when his brother growled. “Behave.”
    Don’t I always? Gabe’s words slipped into his mind, the telepathic communication a comfort to his Lycan senses.
     
    Mackenzie couldn’t enjoy the drive to Rafe’s home, which wound more than a mile into lush woods. Why would anyone want to live in the boonies?
    “He works in the damn city, but is that where I find him? No. Why should he make it easy for me?” Frustrated and ticked, she mumbled to herself.
    She’d left Cooper in the city trying to track down other relatives of the second victim. They’d gone to his house but found no one home. The wife and kids had left that morning to visit her mother in the suburbs, according to a very talkative, elderly neighbor.
    The old lady was a fount of information. Carl Shumaker and his wife had been married for thirteen years, had two kids in grade school and one on the way. He was always so polite and helpful, but lately he’d seemed a bit distracted. She’d heard a few arguments next door, the houses being so close and all. But the clincher was when the neighbor told them he worked in the Loop as a computer programmer for Stone Corporation.
    Mackenzie had felt as if the woman’s porch collapsed under her feet. Could she have been so wrong about Stone? Was Cooper right? Had the man, with as much charisma as he had money in the bank, blinded her to his guilt?
    “No, damn it.” She slapped the wheel and glared out the windshield as the sprawling log and stone mansion came into view. The trappings of wealth and fame had never impressed her before. She didn’t care about his riches either, although if she were honest with herself, she could appreciate his looks and charm. Still, even serial killers could be quite charming when they wanted to be.
    If Stone were the killer, her job was to take him down. She couldn’t do that by making excuses for him or overlooking evidence, no matter how circumstantial. She was a cop. If she screwed up, murderers went free and more people died. Now, a second man with connections to Rafael Stone lay in the city morgue, and that, more than anything else, left her doubting her instincts. What clue had she missed?
    Maybe she should’ve told Cooper where she was going. He would’ve demanded to come along. She shook her head, turned off the ignition, and got out. No. She’d do this alone; she had to. The job was all she had, her way to make a difference. If she couldn’t trust herself to read the signs of a killer, what good was she as a cop?
    She walked between the two mammoth wolves, recognizing them from the photograph at the Lykos Institute.
    “Hello. Please, come in.” A lady with grey hair and happy eyes that crinkled at the corners held the massive door open. “I’m Marge Ainsworth, the Stone family’s housekeeper. Mr. Stone is on the patio. Right this way.”
    “The Stone family?” Is he married?
    “Yes, Rafael and his brothers live here.”
    Brothers...no wife...no kids . Relief settled in her stomach, followed quickly by irritation. What did it matter to her that he was single? At least he wouldn’t leave behind children when she carted his butt off to prison.
    The tap of Mackenzie’s flats echoed as she walked past a wide, sweeping staircase, the oak banister polished to a mirrored luster. “The place is certainly large enough for three men to get lost in.”
    The housekeeper chuckled, pushed open French doors, and motioned Mackenzie through. She spotted Rafe in an instant. He sat with his back to her in a hunter green, wrought-iron patio chair. She started toward him but