Crash & Burn: Moonstruck Wolf, #2

By Silver James

A lone Wolf on the hunt…
As a Homeland Security investigator with a unique set of gifts, Derek Alexander is currently tracking the worst kind of prey—human traffickers. One step behind, he missed them in Kansas City, but after an unlikely informant puts him on the trail to Dallas, he might find his case crashing down around his ears, taking his heart along with it.

A woman on the job...
Katherine 'Kit' Carson, an Airport Rescue Fire Fighter, starts a new job at DFW International. She doesn't expect her first day to land her in the middle of an inferno. Between investigating a plane that exploded mid-air and encountering a hot government agent, Kit's work might send her into a fiery spiral of love and danger she was never trained to handle.

Old enemies, new allies…
When danger, duty and love collide, a Wolf and his mate are destined to CRASH & BURN.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Silver James
• Release date: Oct 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9798201115463

Silver James

Silver James likes walks on the wild side and coffee. Okay. She LOVES coffee. Warning: Her Muse, Iffy, runs with scissors. A cowgirl at heart, she’s also been an Army officer’s wife and mom, and has worked in the legal field, fire service, and law enforcement. Now retired from the real world, she lives in Oklahoma and spends her days writing with the assistance of her two Newfoundland dogs, the cat who rules them all, and the myriad characters living in her imagination.

Book preview

CRASH & BURN

A Moonstruck Wolf Novel

__________________

Silver James

Crash & Burn, a Moonstruck Wolf Novel is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organization, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Crash & Burn, a Moonstruck Wolf Novel ©2016 by Silver James

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

bodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact: [e-mail]

Cover design ©Clary Cary, [e-mail]

Portrait of sexy couple ©NeonShot www.depositphotos.com

Fire Flames ©Kesu01 www.bigstock.com

Plane is flying at sunset ©ghoststone www.depositphotos.com

This work was previously published as Dallas Fire & Rescue: Blood & Fire under a special license through a special publishing program. Original rights have been reverted by the licensor to the author. Revisions have been made to update the story and delete any reference to the Dallas Fire & Rescue world, including all copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Paige Tyler, their affiliates or licensors.

CONTENTS

CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

About the Author

TITLES BY SILVER JAMES

DEDICATION

To ARFFs everywhere. Been there, done that,

sometimes still wear the T-shirt. Stay safe. And to Rob Lowe because yeah, I wouldn’t mind 24-hour shifts with him as the chief.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A lucky writer has a support group of family, friends, and supporters who drag her into the light of reality on a regular basis. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank those who know when to drag me out of the dark and when to force me back into my writing cave with their contributions, cheers, cajoling, even when I’m kicking and screaming.

I couldn’t do this without the help and faith of my wonderful husband, known to my readers as Lawyer Guy. A special thanks to my friend, and sister from a different mister, author B.E. Sanderson who is a blurb doctor extraordinaire. A heartfelt !!THANK YOU!! to all the readers who love my Wolves as much as I do.

Last but definitely not least, I have to recognize my cover designer, Clary, for taking my blurred visions and producing wonderful covers for my books.

One final caveat: Any and all mistakes are my own.

Chapter 1

DEREK ALEXANDER was a lone Wolf. Not that he had anything against pack structure but life in his boots was much simpler without others of his kind sticking their noses in his business. First as a DEA agent and now as an intelligence agent with Homeland Security, he was better able to pursue his duties without anyone looking over his shoulder. Well, anyone who knew his secret anyway. Wolf shifters weren’t exactly vocal about the DNA that made them more than human—and put a target squarely on their backs.

He stood in the main control tower at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport, located in the middle of the various terminals, and watched the blip on the air controller’s radar screen that was the incoming cargo plane. Derek had confirmation that a very special cargo was on board and the case he’d just spent the past year chasing down was about to land in his lap—literally.

Watching through high-powered binoculars, he picked out the WestTrans plane as it made its approach. The radio he held crackled while the alphabet of federal agents acknowledged final plans. As soon as the plane was on the ground and taxied, it would be surrounded. Derek wouldn’t miss the take down if his life depended on it. He was striding toward the elevator when something in the air controller’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

Go West Niner Two, are you declaring an emergency at this time?

Derek was right behind the controller a quick breath later, conscious that the entire place had gone dead silent.

Roger that, Go West Niner Two. How many SOBs?

He had to stop and think about that, then remembered it wasn’t son of a bitch but souls on board.

I copy three, Go West. Stand by for instructions.

Derek became aware of the hum of activity in the background—quiet voices issuing instructions to other airliners in the traffic pattern, a supervisor on a phone talking to the dispatch center for DFW’s police and fire departments. He stood there, feet braced, staring out the windows as the heavy cargo plane came into view.

What’s the problem? he demanded of the controller.

They’ve lost hydraulics. We’re clearing the runway and—

Both of them stared in horror as the plane erupted into a fireball. Derek didn’t wait for debris to hit the ground. Barking orders into the radio he carried, he thumbed in a phone number on his cell phone. He was cursing as the elevator doors closed behind him.

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Three days earlier...

ENGINES REVVED, the cargo plane inched forward then it lumbered down the runway and lifted off. Derek stood just beyond the Kansas City airport’s security fence, watching. The belly of the plane flashed over his head and he winced, the high-pitched whine of the engines a raw irritant to his sensitive ears. He’d been delayed—thanks to the incompetence of the local cops—not that he would have been able to see any of the cargo that had been loaded inside the private hangar. These bastards took great pains to cover their tracks.

A shadow materialized out of the dark. Derek leaned against the front fender of his rented sedan, arms loose at his sides. The indistinct figure solidified—a large man wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans. The stranger kept his hands in sight. Derek still bristled, his wolf disliking the proximity of another alpha male.

I have a message from the Russian.

Derek waited. He recognized the Nightrider enforcer and if the national president sent his left hand to deliver the message, it must have a bearing on the case.

Black Root and the Hell Dogs are joined at the hip.

Yeah, and? This wasn’t new information and the idea of working with the motorcycle club to get leads in his case grated against his sense of ethics. Anything one of those outlaws said was subject to verification under the best of circumstances. The fact that Nightriders and Hell Dogs were at war made corroboration even more vital.

You should maybe look at this address in Dallas. The biker held out a folded piece of paper. The Russian has it on damn good authority that the cargo you’re chasing will end up there.

Derek accepted the paper and watched as the guy turned. His fingers itched to unfold it and read the information. He’d wait, though, until he was alone.

One other thing, the Wolf’s disembodied voice called from the shadows that had once again swallowed him up. This plane is a dry run. The real cargo goes out in three days. We haven’t figured out how to intercept. The rest is on you, five-oh.

Three days wasn’t much time to gear up an operation but it was plenty of time to scout the bad guys. If he headed south now, he’d be in Dallas in time for breakfast.

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Two days previous...

SURPRISED BY the wave of nostalgia swamping her, Kit dumped the last of her personal items in the gym bag she’d brought with her. She closed the locker door and stared at the nameplate. Sergeant Katherine Carson.

Didn’t expect to see you here. The gruff voice cut through her memories.

Kit pivoted to confront the man who’d snuck up on her. Chief Gaines.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Carson."

She ducked her head, feeling weird. This man had originally hired her for the Will Rogers World Airport FD. She’d been a green graduate of the fire engineering school at Oklahoma State and with only the Oklahoma City and Tulsa airports big enough to have ARFF departments, she’d been lucky to get a position at Will Rogers.

Sorta feels like I’m running out on you, chief.

Warm brown eyes regarded her from his weathered, dark-skinned face. Compared to DFW, we’re pretty small potatoes, Kit. There’s not much room on the ladder for you here. You’ve already gotten a promotion by signing on down there. They’ll use your skills far more than we will and that new training center? You’re a natural to end up teaching there.

Kit glanced around the locker room, admitting to herself she was going to miss this place but at the same time, she knew her future lay south of the Red River. Thanks, chief. You know I wouldn’t have this opportunity without you, right?

Hey, at least you’ll still be a silver suit.

Kit laughed at the fond, if slightly derogatory when applied by regular firefighters, nickname for airport rescue firefighters. ARFFs were highly-specialized firefighters. Damn straight, sir!

When do you start?

First thing tomorrow morning. My stuff is already settled into my new apartment in Irving. This was my last stop before heading down there. It’s going to feel weird having a day job again, even though I’ll be on twenty-four-hour call.

You’ll adapt, and you have a chance to define this position.

True. But there’s a lot of pressure too. With the new incident command structure, I’ll be right in the thick of things if something happens. Plus, I have to make nice with the government ABC types—no matter what.

Chief Gaines snorted. "Just think of the NTSB and FAA like they’re bastard children