Taming the Moon Read Free Page A

to a stop. “And if you go in with an attitude like that, mate, he’ll slap you with a suspension so fast your head will spin.”
    Sully jerked away from the detective. The entire situation was a sodding mess, and the only ones who could help him were the two people he didn’t want to see. If his so-called friends had been up front with him from the beginning, his life might not have been plunged into this hell. He trapped a howl of fury in his throat. “You let me worry about that,” he rasped and stalked to his car.
    “Yeah. I’ll do just that,” he heard Lindstrom mutter.
    Sully unlocked his unmarked sedan with the remote key fob and opened the door. He sighed and looked at Lindstrom over the roof of the car. “Thanks.”
    “For what?”
    Sully jerked his head toward the park. “For back there. For…bringing me to my senses.”
    The detective shrugged. “You’d do the same for me.”
    Sully gave a nod. He would. They had each others’ backs. “See you back at the Yard.”
    A scant half hour later, Sully stood in front of his superior’s desk, receiving the dressing-down of his life.
    “Just what the hell were you thinking, Sullivan?” George Glace’s voice climbed a full octave.
    Sully hid a wince. The Chief Superintendent was in rare form. Rightly so, he supposed, but it didn’t mean he liked being taken to task like a boy still in knee britches.
    “Tackling a fleeing suspect is one thing, but wrapping your hands around his throat is unacceptable. And, I might add, bordering on illegal as it would imply excessive force. Not to mention it’s highly irregular.”
    Sully turned his face to one side to hide a smirk. Everything with Glace was “highly irregular,” from a hangnail to one of his best DCIs nearly choking a suspect to death.
    Though what he’d wanted to do was feast.
    That thought erased the smirk.
    “You’d better not be smiling.” The Chief Superintendent stalked around the corner of his desk, his tall, lanky frame as stiff as a two-by-four. “The only possible saving grace for you in all of this is that the suspect seems to be quite mad. He’s been raving on about your eyes changing color and your teeth being sharp like an animal’s.” He shook his head. “I won’t be surprised if the tox screen comes back showing he’s high on something.”
    Sully remained silent. He could guarantee forensics would show the suspect was high. Sully had smelled it on him. The Chief was right in one thing. It definitely worked in his favor if people thought the rapist was a strung-out lunatic.
    Because everyone knew that werewolves weren’t real.
    He clenched his jaw so hard it cracked.
    “What’s gotten into you?” Glace crossed his arms, drumming the fingers of one hand against the opposite elbow. “You’ve been back from your holiday for two days, acting like a lion with a thorn in its paw.”
    Make that a wolf, and he’d be half right—though the thorn wasn’t in his paw.
    Which was why he was so surly.
    “Sir—”
    “Save it.” Glace walked around his desk and sat down, tipping his chair back. The slight squeak as he rocked back and forth grated on Sully’s already tightly drawn nerves. The Chief sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. His graying eyebrows beetled. “At this moment, Detective Chief Inspector Sullivan, you are on an extended personal leave of absence.”
    “Leave of absence!” Sully scowled. “I don’t need a bloody leave—”
    “Yes. You do.” Glace eyed Sully. “I could make it something of a more official nature, though I’d prefer not to have that sort of thing on your record.” He watched Sully, and when he didn’t respond, Glace went on. “Turn in your badge and car keys. You’re to conduct no official police business during your leave. You may keep your weapon.” He put the tip of his index finger on his desk blotter, pointing to the spot where the badge was to be placed.
    Sully ground his jaw but did as