Stealing His Heart Read online

  . Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Sneak Peek

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author | By Bru Baker

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  Copyright

  Stealing His Heart

  By Bru Baker

  Connoll Pack

  Love sneaks in like a thief in the night.

  Danny’s parents raised him to believe his wolf was a curse. He’s part of the wealthy and powerful Connoll Pack, but only nominally. He abandoned that world to volunteer with supernatural kids, and he isn’t looking for a mate….

  Max is a shifter who is also a detective. He’s working a case that could make or break his career. Danny’s caught up in the case he’s on, and he’s also irresistible. They’re a bad match—Max, an Alpha having trouble with his new powers, and Danny, who trusts Alphas as far as he could throw one. But they can’t get enough of each other, and they might bond before they even see it coming.

  They could be amazing together, but they have to get past a few obstacles—especially since someone close to Danny might be involved in the thefts Max is investigating.

  “You stay out here while I clear the place. I’m sure the burglar’s long gone, but it doesn’t hurt to be safe.”

  Danny couldn’t help but watch as the man ran up the stairs. He had a superb ass. All of him was pretty superb, actually. Now that his panic was receding, Danny could actually appreciate the way the officer’s slacks and button-down couldn’t quite hide how nicely built he was. His face was attractive too.

  And he was supernatural. He’d sniffed out that Danny was a werewolf immediately, but Danny couldn’t place the officer’s scent. He definitely wasn’t a werewolf. He smelled earthy, like a shifter, but not anything Danny could pin down.

  He heard the cop thundering down the stairs a few flights before he saw him, and he was ready when the man burst out of the door. He motioned Danny up the stairs.

  Danny followed the detective inside.

  For my family, both of blood and of choice, who help me make this dream of being a writer come true. You hold me up, and I am forever grateful. Rhys, C.S., Caraway, and Hunter, thanks for always being on the other end of the screen to talk me down from my more calamitous ideas.

  Chapter One

  DANNY hurried along the sidewalk, hugging his satchel close to his body to keep it dry. The torrential rain from earlier had eased, but he didn’t want to take any chances with the remaining drizzle. It also made his satchel harder to steal, which was the real bonus.

  He didn’t live in the best of neighborhoods, but normally it didn’t bother him. Most of the time he didn’t have much to steal, but today he had a pair of iPads in his bag that probably cost more than the majority of the beater cars parked along the curb on his walk home.

  He’d sold the Rolex his parents had given him for his high school graduation to buy these. Months of nonstop fundraising had paid for the rest of the bounty that was safely locked up in his apartment, but foster services had referred two more teens to the Janus Foundation last week, and he didn’t want to leave them out of his gift-giving extravaganza.

  His kids often came to their foster families with nothing, and Danny did whatever he could to ease their transitions and give them what they needed to succeed. This year he’d wanted to do something extra. Something special and completely impractical. The kids deserved a surprise, and he had a whopper planned for them.

  Danny had grown up in a family that lacked for nothing. That Rolex would have been many people’s prized possession, but he’d had two when he moved out of his parents’ Manhattan townhome. He’d never worn either of them—he was more of a Casio guy at heart. Rough-and-tumble, waterproof, takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’. No, wait. That was Timex.

  He was living in what his father not-so-lovingly referred to as squalor. Danny poured all of his savings and the hefty inheritance he’d gotten when his grandmother died into the Janus Foundation. He drew enough of a salary to support himself, assuming he didn’t splurge on things like a car. Or air-conditioning. Or that one notable month, dinner.

  But it was worth it. When Jillian and Tomas, his newest charges at the day center, unwrapped these iPads, the gesture would mean a lot more to them than the Rolex had meant to him. The Janus Foundation served supernatural kids who had lost their parents, secretly working alongside the foster system to help support more than just their physical needs. The foster system was tough enough without worrying about how your foster family would react if you sprouted fur or accidentally broke a bookshelf with telekinesis.

  So Danny provided a safe space for the kids to gather and hang out, in addition to helping pay for basics like clothes and school supplies since supernatural kids tended to be a bit harder on their possessions and DCFS would only buy a kid so many pairs of jeans before caseworkers started asking questions. He also made sure the kids had access to the things they needed to help keep them balanced, like regular trips to the river for nymphs and weekend campouts for druids and dryads who needed to reconnect to the earth.

  Danny had been twenty-two when his parents verbally disowned him, and that had been hard. He couldn’t even imagine the strength it took for these kids to keep soldiering on, day after day, when they couldn’t be with their own kind.

  Danny curled in on himself with a shout as a black town car passed too close, showering him with dirty water. He shifted his satchel away from the wetness, cursing the driver for cutting the corner.

  He was almost home anyway. His only plans for the evening involved Netflix and sitting in front of the fan in his boxers.

  He’d wrap the iPads and add them to the stash in his coat closet, and then his responsibilities for the Janus Foundation would be done until the big back-to-school party in three weeks. He couldn’t wait to hand out the presents. He’d picked something expressly for each kid, whether it was an iPad or a laptop or expensive software or accessories, and he couldn’t wait to see their faces. Each present was tailored to their interests. It wasn’t really the cost that would make it so special—it was the thought that went into it and the extravagance of the gesture. Who buys a foster kid a GoPro? One of the few adults in her life who knew she wanted to be a filmmaker and had been secretly making documentaries with her crappy borrowed Motorola phone, that’s who.

  He had plans for music and lots of food and expected the gift giving to be absolute chaos. He couldn’t wait.

  Danny jogged up the two steps to his building’s foyer, muttering lowly when the security door opened with the slightest touch. It was supposed to be locked all the time, but it hardly ever was. He didn’t even try the elevator, which was out of service more than it was in, and trudged up the three flights of poorly lit stairs to his floor.

  Half of the apartments were either vacant or had bright orange eviction notices taped to them. It made his heart hurt to think of the Robinsons, a nice family of four who’d lived next door until a few days ago. He’d helped out whenever he could, leaving them bags of groceries and helping the kids with their homework when they were home alone after school, but they’d needed more assistance than he could give them.

  His father said his willingness to bend over backward for strangers was his biggest character flaw. It was ironic that a person who gave
away millions every year for a photo op would turn his nose up at giving a family in need a bag full of canned goods.

  Then again, his father had probably never seen a bag full of canned goods. God knows Danny had been surprised you could get things like meat in a can when he’d struck out on his own.

  Danny’s heart jumped into his throat when he realized his apartment door was ajar. He’d definitely locked and dead bolted it this morning when he’d left for work. He pushed the door open, swallowing hard when it fell off its hinges in a cloud of dust and splintered wood.

  Break-ins weren’t that common around here, mostly because no one had anything worth stealing. Hell, he didn’t even have a TV. But he did have a closet full of almost fifteen grand in gifts.

  Danny rushed into his apartment, wincing at the way the door whined and cracked under his weight. His living room looked exactly like it had when he’d left, right down to the cereal bowl on the coffee table. The only thing amiss was the coat-closet door, which was wide open and revealed a few scarves on the ground and the pair of boots with the floppy sole he kept meaning to have repaired.

  “Oh fuck.” Horror welled in his throat, making it hard to swallow.

  They were gone.

  His stomach lurched and he had to blink quickly to stem the hot flood of tears that threatened. He was not going to cry or throw up or sit down and bury his head in his knees.

  He was an adult, dammit, and he could deal with this on his own.

  Danny stared at the empty closet.

  He could not deal with this on his own.

  “Siri, call Sloane.”

  His cousin was in her last year of med school. She was several years younger, but she’d been his designated adult since his parents had all but written him off when he’d pursued a master’s degree in social work.

  She didn’t pick up, so he called again.

  His knees almost buckled in relief when she answered this time. Sloane would know what to do. She’d tell him how to fix this.

  “Danny, it’s not a good ti—”

  “My place got robbed, and everything is gone,” he said in a rush, his voice wobbling. So much for handling this like an adult.

  “Fuck. Hold on a sec, okay? I have to leave class so I can talk.”

  He’d forgotten she was still on campus. Shit.

  “I’m back. What the hell happened? Are you okay? Were you there? What did the police say?”

  Danny blinked at his splintered door. “I haven’t talked to the police yet. I just got home.”

  “Oh my God!”

  Danny had to hold the phone away from his ear, cringing as she shrieked.

  “Get out of your apartment, you idiot! What if they’re still there?”

  Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. He tamped down the panic building in his chest. “I’m a werewolf, Sloane. What is a burglar going to do to me?”

  “I don’t know, shoot you?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  A bullet wouldn’t kill him, not unless it was a head shot, but it wouldn’t feel good either. And to be honest, he was a bit wimpy when it came to werewolf powers. He’d grown up in Manhattan, for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t like he was a tough guy. Besides, Alpha Connoll would have his balls if he shifted in front of a human.

  “Right,” Danny said, glancing behind himself as he gingerly stepped over the door. “Okay, I’m in the hallway.”

  Sloane sighed. “Outside, Danny. Go outside. Wait for the police to come.”

  Danny wrapped an arm around his satchel, pressing the weight of the two boxes inside it against his side as he ran down the steps. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lose these. If the burglar was still around, he’d have to peel them out of Danny’s cold, dead claws.

  Was that sexist, to assume a burglar was a man? It could have been a lady burglar. Or that would probably just be burglar, right? Putting lady in front of something was definitely sexist.

  “Are you outside?”

  Danny nearly dropped the phone he still held pressed to his ear. He’d forgotten about Sloane.

  “What if it’s a woman?”

  “What if what is a woman? Are you outside or not, Danny? Jesus.”

  “Yes, I’m out front. What if the burglar is a woman?”

  “Oh my God, you’re losing it. Listen, I’m hanging up. Call the police, and I’ll be there as soon as class is over.”

  Danny probably was losing it. The burglar’s gender didn’t matter here. It was just his brain trying to distract him from the growing panic in his chest. He’d used tangents like that to help control his shift right after his Turn, and old habits apparently died hard.

  “Police,” he muttered to himself. “Right.”

  He dialed 911, looking around nervously. That number was for big stuff. Should he be calling the nonemergency…?

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  Danny nearly fumbled the phone in his sweaty palm.

  “Um, I need to report a burglary?”

  Damn it. It sounded like he was questioning whether or not there had been one. He needed to pull himself together.

  “I mean, my apartment has been robbed, and I need to report it.”

  “Is the burglar still on the premises?”

  “I don’t know? I could go in and check—”

  “No, sir. If you’re outside, please stay there until an officer arrives. Can you give me your address?”

  Danny ran through all the information with her, and she assured him a uniformed officer would come by to clear his apartment and take his statement. Then she disconnected.

  Weren’t 911 operators supposed to stay on the line with you until help arrived? Or maybe that was only in case of a life-threatening emergency.

  Danny sat on the steps and put his bag in his lap, curling around it protectively. The rain had let up, at least. The operator’d told him to stay where he was, but if it started up again he’d have to move inside, where Mr. Rodriguez in 1A would yell at him for blocking the mailboxes.

  He held off looking at his watch for what seemed like an hour, only to discover it had barely been fifteen minutes. Was it normal to take this long for police to respond? What if the burglar was still in his apartment? They’d have gotten away by now.

  What if the burglar came out this way? The back way out took a winding path through the laundry room and the building’s basement. It wasn’t marked, so if the burglar didn’t know the building, he probably wouldn’t be able to find it. That meant the burglar would be coming this way, right past Danny on the front steps.

  Shit.

  Danny cursed at himself for not taking better note of his surroundings when he’d been upstairs. What kind of werewolf panicked so hard in the face of danger that he didn’t even think to listen for heartbeats in the room? He could have solved the question of whether or not the thief was still there in ten seconds.

  God, he couldn’t even remember what the apartment smelled like. Everyone left a scent trail, and that closet had been full—it wouldn’t have been a quick job to load it all up and haul it out. There should have been a trail he could follow to see if the thief had left the building.

  Danny hesitated. He could go back in and check, but he’d promised Sloane he’d stay outside. And what would he do if someone was still in the apartment? Jump him? He didn’t trust himself not to wolf out under the pressure, and that would make this an even bigger clusterfuck.

  He checked his watch. Twenty minutes.

  If the police still hadn’t come by the time Sloane showed up, they’d go in together. They could take a human burglar together, no problem. And having her there would ground him and he wouldn’t shift. Probably.

  She certainly wouldn’t. His cousin had great control. She’d only had to stay one month at Camp H.O.W.L., but it had taken Danny two months to get his shit together enough not to sprout fur and fangs when he got startled. Hell, it was still a struggle. There was a reason his father referred to their wolf side as the beast.

&
nbsp; Maybe that’s why he identified so hard with the kids he worked with. He knew what it felt like to have everything on the line and worry constantly that he’d be the one to out the supernatural world to humans.

  Fuck. Those kids meant everything to him, and thinking about how much he’d let them down by not storing their presents somewhere safer made his stomach hurt. They didn’t even know they were getting them—he threw a back-to-school party every year and gave them basic school supplies, so that’s what they assumed this party would be. They were so damn grateful for backpacks and pencils. He’d really wanted to do something special for them. Show them that they were loved.

  It had been forty minutes by the time an unmarked police car with lights on the dash pulled up. He wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t watching for it. It slid into a space across the street, and Danny shot up, waving his hand frantically so the officers could see him. Only one guy got out, and he wasn’t wearing a uniform. When he turned and started walking down the street, Danny streaked after him, using more speed than was cautious. He dodged a Prius. Its driver slammed on the brakes and honked, and the cop turned around. He stopped and watched Danny run, and Danny didn’t slow down until he noticed the calculated way the guy was looking at him.

  This was why he rarely used his Were strength or senses. He was so bad at hiding it.

  “You got a problem, buddy?” the cop asked when Danny skidded to a stop in front of him. “Pretty dangerous move you just pulled there.”

  When the cop squinted at him, Danny remembered a human would be out of breath after a stunt like that. He heaved his chest as best he could, but the cop just rolled his eyes and took him by the arm, pulling him into an alley between buildings.

  “Look, you can cut it out. I can smell you’re a wolf. What the hell are you trying to pull?”

  Danny’s fake hyperventilation turned into an actual gasp, which triggered a coughing fit. He hunched over, and the cop smacked him on the back a few times, hard enough to bruise a human.