by Dannika Dark
He pursed his lips and studied me for a moment. “You won’t be able to resist the pull toward pack life for long. There’s no reason to rush into dating, but keep in mind that it’s better for you to join a pack through mating. It gets… complicated when single Shifters enter a pack.”
My uncle was right. Sometimes it worked out, but I’d heard stories over the years about new packmates causing a stir. A woman entering without a mate would catch the eye of more than one single man in the house, disrupting the harmony within the pack, and the same might apply with gender roles reversed. The idea of an unplanned pregnancy was terrifying. Without a mate, who will keep me from humping the first available man when I go into heat? At least with Hope around, I had someone to make sure I didn’t leave my room and do something stupid during those days. What if the pack I choose doesn’t have a heat house or separate facility for me to stay in during my time of need? What if I have one of those single Packmasters who decides it’s his job to slide my panties down and give me orgasms without sex to shorten the duration? How weird would that be if I didn’t even like him? I shuddered.
“The idea of living with another pack is terrifying,” I admitted.
He laced his fingers together. “So is being a lone wolf. Eventually the need to bond with a family will become overwhelming. Keep your heart open to possibilities. There’s no need to rush into mating, but don’t close the door either. You could wind up shutting out your soul mate.” Will sat back and relaxed his shoulders. “Just remember that I’m here when you need to talk. It’s good that you and Hope have each other to lean on. But if she mates with someone first, you’ll be left alone.”
I hadn’t thought about that. My chest tightened at the idea of losing Hope to a mate. When young wolves moved out of packs, it was common for them to live in groups—especially women—until they mated or found a pack of their own. I didn’t have anyone else except my brothers, and I didn’t want to live with them.
“Thanks, Uncle Will. My parents gave me advice since they both lived alone for a long time. Probably too long. It might not seem like it, but I really love my independence. Just don’t get the wrong idea if I come home a lot for dinner. It doesn’t mean I want to move back in. I just miss it. You know?”
“Indeed.” He reached out and placed his hand on mine—a consoling touch that I needed more than I realized. “We’re proud of you, Mel. It’s not easy being an assertive female in business affairs. Just ask the women in our pack. It intimidates a lot of men in the community who don’t strive as hard. If anyone threatens you, let us know. We’ll always have your back.”
My eyes darted away.
“What’s wrong?” He leaned in tight, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Male Shifters possessed a palpable energy when provoked or in protective mode, and he missed nothing.
I withdrew my hand. “Someone wrote on our window with shoe polish.”
That was why I’d spent all my afternoon scrubbing those windows. It offended me to know that someone had targeted us, and I didn’t want a single trace of it left behind.
“What did it say?”
My cheeks heated. “Slut.”
His jaw clenched, and he sat back. Will usually kept his cool and wasn’t one of the aggressive wolves in the pack. Only twice had I ever seen him lose his temper, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Before he could say anything, I continued. “We can’t put cameras up since security cameras aren’t allowed in the Breed district, especially outside. It’s probably kids or maybe even some jealous competition. Anyhow, we’re wolves, and wolves stand their ground. The writing washed off, and we’re not dwelling on the matter. Aunt Lexi told me she had some trouble with her bakery in the beginning, but people got over it.”
He scraped his teeth against his bottom lip. “She was also mated to a Packmaster. People see you as an easy target—someone they can push around since you’re unclaimed.”
“And that’s why I don’t want to mention this to the pack,” I said, holding his gaze. “You don’t have legal rights to take action against someone who’s harassing me since I don’t belong to the pack anymore. The last thing I want is retaliation. I love my family but not enough to see you go to Breed jail over a few dumb rednecks who are intimidated by a couple of women.”
Will gave a handsome smile, erasing his dark expression. “You make a fair argument, but you mustn’t keep secrets from us. If there’s no one you trust in the pack, then speak with me. I have connections, and if you receive continued harassment, then maybe we can figure something out. You know all about the bidding war with real estate. A lot of packs want commercial property, so that’s why they’re hoping that you fail or give up. You won this property over a long list of people, so don’t be surprised by a little backlash in the community. They’ll get over it.”
I straightened my back. “I don’t give up. Never have, never will. And I promise to tell you if we run into trouble again. That’s been the only incident. Hopefully the last.”
Hope approached the kitchen island, clasping her hands. “Hi, William.”
Will turned in his seat and stood, arms wide. “How’s my girl?” He gave her a quick hug and looked between us. “Have you been watching over our Mel and keeping her out of trouble?”
Amusement danced in her eyes as she folded her arms. “She’s in capable hands.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” He glanced down at her bag near the door, his eyes brimming with concern. “I think it’s time that you tell me why I’m here. Are you two going somewhere?”
Her eyes darted toward me, and I stood up.
“That’s why I need to borrow your Jeep,” I confessed. “We ran into a last-minute snag with one of our contractors, so we’re on borrowed time to find a new one as quickly as possible. We have separate meetings set up tomorrow, and Hope’s taking the car. My scooter isn’t going to get me very far on the highway.”
“Do you need someone to escort you?”
“No,” I blurted, sensing that protectiveness kicking in. “And please don’t mention this to Lennon or Hendrix. You know how they are, and they’ll follow me. I don’t need two macho alphas flanking me at all times and intimidating the hell out of everyone. What if they insult the dealer and ruin our chances? The thing is, no one is going to take me seriously if I show up with a male escort.”
Hope erupted with laughter.
“That sounded all wrong,” I said, shaking my head. “What I meant was—”
“No need to explain.” His lips twitched before he nodded in agreement. “They’ll assume you can’t make decisions on your own. If this person is a Shifter, he’ll have more confidence striking a deal if you negotiate alone.”
I leaned on the counter. “Showing up with my brothers just isn’t professional.”
William turned away in a pathetic attempt to conceal his grin. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what had him so tickled. I had to laugh at the thought of me rolling up in a flashy red Jeep, my purple hair flying everywhere. The guy was going to take one look at me in my eccentric clothes and think I’d escaped the circus.
Which was exactly what my life had become.
Chapter 3
“How’s the drive?” Hope asked on my speakerphone.
I glanced at the mess of candy wrappers on the passenger seat of my uncle’s Jeep. “Scenic. And if one more trucker wags his tongue between two fingers at me, I’m going to drive off a cliff.”
She laughed. “Let me know when you see a cliff in Texas.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m already in Oklahoma. I’m sure if I look hard enough, I can find one. If not, the noxious odor of dead skunks every thirty miles should do me in. Where are you?”
“I just left.”
Turning down the air so I could hear better, I said, “Wait a second. Weren’t you going to leave right after me?”
“I wish I had. It took me over an hour to find a decent hotel online.”
I passed a picku
p truck and grinned. Hope was a planner and didn’t like the idea of staying at the first motel on the side of the highway. When I’d left the apartment, she was on the internet, comparing amenities.
“Traffic is a nightmare,” she continued, “so it’s probably going to take me a couple of hours before I make it to San Antonio.”
I glanced down at the clock. “How long do you think your meeting will last?”
“It depends. We’re having dinner at the hotel, and if that goes well, he’ll probably invite me back to his place.”
“Sounds kinky.”
When her response came through garbled, I moved the phone around. “Hope?”
“I’m here. And don’t be silly. His elders want to speak with me. The tribes are careful about who they do business with, so he’s basically vetting me to see if I’m good enough to consider.”
“Well, just watch out for yourself. He might be one of those crazy alphas with a harem.”
“I’m glad I packed my harem pants.”
Chortling, I said, “I really shouldn’t laugh at that.”
“I’m more worried about you. It’s not too late to turn back.”
I jerked the wheel and swerved around roadkill. Thankfully it wasn’t a skunk. “Don’t worry about me. I brought my bow and arrows. The only thing I forgot to pack was some good music. Uncle Will’s fantabulous CD collection leaves much to be desired.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
I picked up a jewel case and read the label. “Let’s just say that when I lost the radio stations, I was reduced to listening to Herb Alpert and Engelbert Humperdinck.”
“Who?”
“Exactly. These are the joys of living with old Shifters. Do you think one day our kids will be laughing at our music?”
The reception cut off, and I only heard every other word.
“Hope? I’m going to let you go before I drop off. Call me later.”
“Okay. Drive safely.”
Another flash of lightning streaked across the dark horizon up ahead. It had been nothing but blue skies until I hit Dallas. As soon as I’d passed the casino in Oklahoma, the sky turned midnight blue, and headlights lit up the highway in both directions.
Now there was no highway, just miles and miles of trees along the two-lane road. I’d only seen two cars in the past thirty minutes, and there wasn’t anywhere safe to pull over. Every so often, I passed a run-down home with dogs chained up in the front yard.
I reached for the map and flattened it against the steering wheel. Where the heck does this guy live? What if he’s a lion Shifter or some crazy rogue who lives in the woods and decorates his cabin with dead squirrels? For all I knew, I might have been meeting with a Mage or a Vampire, and the thought of some guy sucking my blood or my energy for a high and leaving me on the side of the road left me with a sinking feeling.
Too late to turn back now.
“Good grief. Where’s a gas station when you need one?”
I didn’t have enough light to see the map, not without driving off the road.
“A sign would be helpful,” I muttered. “I’ve passed two intersections with no signs. It’s like they want you to get lost in this state. Welcome to Oklahoma.” I made a sweeping gesture with my arm. “Stay. Forever.”
When “Spanish Eyes” came on, I turned down the volume. Fat drops of rain hammered against the car like wild applause.
“Uh-oh,” I sang. “Please don’t hail.”
Uncle Will loved me, but that was likely to change if his Jeep came home resembling a golf ball with dents all over his beautiful red finish. Men loved their cars, and borrowing a man’s car was like borrowing a child. If anything happened to it while in my care, even an act of God, I would never hear the end of it. Not that he would yell at me, but Uncle Will had a quiet way of getting his disappointment across that was far worse than verbal confrontation.
I reached another intersection and slowed to a stop. The cross street was marked Private Property on both sides, but to the left were several taillights flashing in the distance. The sign also had a paw print in the corner indicating that Shifters were welcome.
A thunderclap made me jump in my seat. “Detour,” I said, turning left.
The meeting wasn’t for several hours, and I suddenly felt like Dorothy on my way to Oz. What I needed to do was stretch my legs, chow down, and study that infernal map. Maybe a few local Shifters would point the way since they knew the territory better than I did. Shifters owned a lot of land in Oklahoma, more than any other Breed—especially in the rural areas.
My wipers frantically swiped across the windshield as I squinted at an orange light. I would settle for any man-made structure. Gas station, corner market, bingo hall… strip club. The woods didn’t bother me so much as the unfamiliarity of a territory where I didn’t belong.
“Oh, thank God.”
The sign actually read Burgers & Fries and had an arrow pointing down. I didn’t care whether that was the name of the restaurant or the only items on the menu—I just wanted to sit down and get my head together before I wound up driving down the wrong road and getting stuck in the mud.
Unable to see any painted lines on the concrete, I parked next to a pickup truck and grabbed my oversized black-and-purple purse.
The second I stepped out of the car, a shower of rain engulfed me. Instantly drenched, I shrieked and ran toward the entrance. I stumbled onto the wooden porch and yanked open the door, the cold air triggering goose bumps all over my wet arms. Cigarette smoke made me wrinkle my nose. Yep, it was definitely a Shifter establishment.
Everyone at the short bar on my left turned to look me over.
Everyone.
Had a DJ been playing instead of a jukebox, I was certain I would have heard a record scratch followed by silence.
Water dripped from the ends of my hair, which fell just past my shoulders. Lucky for me, I’d chosen to wear a loose black tank top instead of a white T-shirt. Not that I had anything newsworthy going on in the northern hemisphere, but it would have made the already-awkward situation even more uncomfortable. The men stared at my patchwork jeans—a favorite pair of mine. Pieces of black fabric patched up the holes and matched my top perfectly. Maybe they think I’m a model.
The thought was enough to make me laugh like a hyena. These guys were undoubtedly sizing me up as a city girl, and based on their indecipherable expressions, that could be either a good thing or a bad thing.
The odds were that most of them were Shifters, and the last thing you did around a Shifter was behave submissively by casting your gaze low to the ground. So I sucked in a breath, held it, and gave everyone a jaunty smile as I strutted in, shoulders squared. My mother used to work in a bar, so she taught me a few tricks of the trade. Never bend over, because that signals to other wolves that you’re interested. Never look submissive, and always hold eye contact. And most of all, never put up with insults. If you let it slide once, they’ll think it’s okay.
And it’s never okay.
I searched for an empty booth and reached the jukebox in the back. A divider wall on my right separated the bar area from another room. When I rounded the corner to see what the seating situation was on the other side, I felt the penetrating stare from dozens of men who filled the booths. With that, I turned on my heel and decided to investigate the dark room behind the bar. I peered through the open doorway and saw nothing but pool tables. Nope, not a chance in hell.
I used to love pool as a kid, but when I was fourteen, my father put a stop to it after he caught a young Shifter licking his lips while I leaned over the table and took a shot. That was when my mother sat down and taught me about the birds and the bees and the wolves. Bending over or showing my back to a Shifter had a meaningful connotation among adults—one that was part of the dance when seeking out a mate.
I pivoted on my heel and lingered by the jukebox before settling on a stool near the end of the bar. Through the mirror behind the bottles, I noticed eyes swinging away as
the men lost interest.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
I set my purse on the bar along with the map. “I’m famished. I’ll have the burger and fries. No pink meat.”
He had a peculiar grin, showing more of his bottom teeth than his top ones. “What to drink?”
“Root beer.”
“Did she say root beer?” a man barked. A few cackles sounded from that direction.
I glared at the man sitting three stools down while unfolding my map. Hope had warned me that the rural areas had pockets of Shifters who were lawless and uncivilized. They considered most outsiders interlopers and treated them accordingly.
The bartender spoke quietly with him, and their direct stares bored a hole into my skull. When he returned with my root beer and popped the lid, someone snickered. Ignoring them, I sent Hope a text.
Melody: I’m in hell.
Hope: I thought you were in Oklahoma.
Melody: It’s raining. Had to pull over.
Hope: Where?
Melody: A tiny bar in no-man’s-land. The roads here are confusing.
Hope: You must be in Shifter territory. They’re not all marked. You okay?
Melody: Just wish you were here. Reception is iffy, so don’t panic if I go quiet for a while.
Hope: Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.
Melody: More like the missing link. Talk soon.
I smiled and put my phone away. While I squeezed the ends of my wet hair and listened to Hank Williams Jr. growling on the jukebox, I noticed something peculiar. There weren’t any women. I didn’t recall seeing any on the other side of the wall, either. And I found that odd.