Big Bad Beast

by Shelly Laurenston

  And, as she expected, her daddy looked mighty uncomfortable with all this luxury. Where most people would be ordering room service and getting massages, since absolutely everything was being comped, her daddy was staring out the big picture window at the bright morning sky like a poor dog trapped in its kennel. She gave him another day, maybe two, until he’d have to go home again. Until he was running free on his beloved Smith-town hills.

  “Hey, Daddy.” She put her arm around his waist.

  “Hey, Sugar Bug.” He kissed her forehead. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Momma started to cry.”

  “Your momma cries at those sappy Christmas card commercials, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Knowing that my baby girl is going to be able to handle anything that comes her way? I’m just fine.”

  “You were worried?”

  “A father’s always going to worry. You’re my heart, Sugar Bug.”

  “Then what’s Momma?”

  She heard him give a low chuckle. “My soul.”

  “Would you like to order some breakfast, Ulrich?” Darla asked after showing him around their fancy suite with a living room and three whole bedrooms! They stood in one of those bedrooms now, the morning light shining in on Ulrich Van Holtz and, good Lord, he certainly was a handsome man. She’d seen for herself over the years that many of the Van Holtz males were handsome, but this one . . . whew!

  “Actually, I was thinking I’d like to take you and Mr. Smith back to our apartment and I’d make you breakfast instead, Miss Darla. I have a car waiting for us downstairs.”

  Mated only a few days and he was already so comfortable making Dee-Ann part of his life without missing a beat. How long had he loved her? Probably longer than Dee-Ann would ever realize.

  “That sounds lovely. If you wouldn’t mind, with all the cooking you have to do and everything.”

  “Not at all. I love cooking. It’s what I do. And I don’t know if Mr. Smith mentioned it to you, but I’m also closing the restaurant down tonight and having a little party, very casual, for some friends and associates. It would be wonderful if you would both come.”

  She smirked. “He neglected to mention that.” Damn Smith males. You had to be dang Matlock to know what was going on with any of ’em. “I’ll definitely be there, Ulrich, and I’ll see if I can talk Eggie into it.”

  “Talk me into what?”

  Darla jumped, then turned and slapped at her mate’s arm. “Don’t do that!”

  “All these years and you still can’t tell when I’m right behind you? How’s that my fault?”

  “That’s it,” she snapped. “We’re going to dinner tonight at Ulrich’s restaurant.”

  “Not paying all that money for a dang steak, Darla Mae.”

  “It’s a casual get-together,” Ulrich clarified. “On me.”

  She saw her mate sneer a little. “Get-together? Is that girly speak for—”

  “Eggie.”

  “Fine. We’ll be there.”

  “Excellent,” Ulrich stated, ignoring the fact that Eggie was being dang difficult.

  Darla knew her mate liked the young wolf, but he’d never make it easy on him. It was a Smith male thing and she refused to worry about it.

  “But first . . . breakfast. At our place,” Ric said.

  “Can’t we just eat here?”

  “Must you be so difficult?” Darla demanded.

  Dee-Ann whispered something to her father. Honestly, the pair of them. Thick as thieves. Just like Darla had been with her daddy all those years ago.

  “Waffles, huh?” Eggie grumbled.

  “With blueberries,” Ulrich added.

  “Canned?” Eggie asked and Darla adored the brave and annoyed snarl that comment brought out from the young wolf.

  “Did you say something to him?” Ulrich demanded of his mate and the way Dee was laughing, Darla would bet that she had.

  “Not a word,” Dee-Ann replied. The little liar.

  “Not canned,” Ulrich informed Eggie with a sudden stiffness. “Fresh and only fresh.”

  “Fine then.”

  Lord, the man acted like he was being forced to eat dog food from a bowl.

  “I have a car waiting for us outside.”

  “A car?”

  “Eggie.”

  “Fine.” Muttering, he stormed to the door. “Don’t see the point payin’ money for a car that you’re only going to use for five minutes. Maybe ten. Seems like a dang waste to me.”

  Dee-Ann followed her father, not even bothering to hold her laughter in. As she passed young Ulrich, Darla watched the boy watch her daughter. His eyes lit up and the warmest love flowed right through him. Darla could see it the way she could look out the window and see the morning sun.

  In fact, the young wolf looked the way Darla had always felt once she’d realized she loved Eggie Smith. She almost felt sorry for Ulrich in a way. To love someone so much who would never be easy to love.

  “You just adore her, don’t you, son?” she asked him softly.

  And, without even a pause, “Like my next breath.”

  “I used to worry, you know? Worry that she’d never find someone who understands her. Who would try and tame her. She’s so much like her daddy. . . .”

  “The only thing I want, Miss Darla, is to love her and feed her. She’s too skinny,” he whispered. “After all she does in a day, she needs to come home to a good, solid meal. Made by me.”

  Yep, she liked the boy more and more. But he needed to be clear. He needed to understand. “She ain’t no socialite, Ulrich. She’ll always have that damn bowie knife on her and the willingness to use it. She’ll wander off on you sometimes and if something moves by her too fast, she’s liable to look at it like prey. She’ll make a great mother, but Lord help anyone who crosses her child. And it’ll probably be best that you go to any parent-teacher conferences because she’ll just disturb the parents and teachers. You do understand all that?”

  “I understand that I can’t imagine my life without her.” He shrugged. “Or without her big bowie knife.”

  The boy had a sense of humor. Thank goodness! That was a necessary part of getting through any day when dealing with Eggie Smith or Eggie Smith’s little girl.

  “Are you two comin’?” Eggie barked from the next room. “Or are me and my Sugar Bug going to just starve out here waitin’ on y’all?”

  Ulrich tucked Darla’s arm around his own and together they headed toward the front door.

  “Sugar bug?” Ulrich softly asked.

  “There are some things you don’t question, Ulrich. But instead, you simply accept it. Sugar Bug is one of those things.”

  “I will keep that in mind, Miss Darla.”

  She patted his shoulder. “Good man.”

  Alder Van Holtz was having trouble sleeping. He was so angry, he could barely see straight and he had been this angry since he’d gotten word from his cousin Niles that he was to be packed and out of Manhattan in the next two days. He and his eldest son. Apparently, they were being dumped on his wife’s relatives in the middle of nowhere Colorado.

  As if Alder would ever let that happen. As if he’d allow his cousin to steam roll over him. His wife, who’d stopped speaking to him after she’d gotten a call from his cousin’s bitch wife, had already started packing up the apartment. His son had already made arrangements to move his own wife and pups out in the next week. They were just accepting all this. Alder would never accept it. Not ever.

  Raging now, Alder went to toss and turn—hoping to annoy and wake up his wife and force her to talk to him—but something, he abruptly realized, was resting on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw shiny, bright yellow eyes staring down at him.

  He opened his mouth to yell, but something sharp and pointy pressed against his jugular.

  “Uh-uh, hoss,” a gravelly voice told him. “One warning: You’re out and on your way to your new home day after tomorrow or th
e last thing you’ll see”—he leaned in close and now Alder could see the wolf’s face clearly in the dark—“will be me.”

  A Smith. It was bad enough his idiot son had mated with one, but now he had her white trash relatives making appearances in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

  “Understand me, boy?”

  Alder wanted to argue, but the blade pressed in deeper and he felt blood trickling down the side of his throat. It was something he could tolerate, something he would normally not care about. But what scared him, what had him wanting to reach for his wife to shake her awake so that she’d call the police or one of their Pack for help, was the way the wolf watched what he was doing. It was like Alder was something to play with. A bug to be tortured under a magnifying glass on a sunny day. Killing him would mean nothing to this wolf. Honestly, Alder got the feeling all the bastard wanted to do was kill him. To cut his throat and let him bleed out while Jennifer continued to sleep beside him. Or maybe the wolf would drag Alder out and kill him somewhere else and get rid of the body so he was never found.

  Unwilling to risk either of those scenarios, Alder nodded. “Understood.”

  “Thank you kindly,” the wolf told him before the weight on Alder’s chest vanished, those freakish yellow eyes with it. And although Alder heard no footsteps, no doors or windows opening or closing, he knew the wolf was gone. Disappearing into the shadows that he’d eased from.

  Suddenly Alder didn’t think he could get out of Manhattan fast enough.

  Van parked his rental car in front of his Fifth Avenue restaurant, closed down for the night due to a big dinner party that involved all those who’d worked on shutting down this particular case, including KZS and NYPD. There would be others who would try to use hybrids, thinking they were dispensable, but this was a good start. A very good one.

  He glanced over at the wolf sitting beside him. They hadn’t spoken since the wolf slipped into his car and Van had headed here. They were already an hour late.

  “So everything is settled with my cousin?”

  “Yep.”

  Eggie Smith—chatty as always.

  “Good. And I guess you’re aware of what’s happened between Ric and your daughter.”

  “You didn’t see that coming twenty-five years ago?”

  “I was hoping I was wrong.”

  “You always were kind of stupid.”

  Van glared at him. “Get out of my car.”

  “As ya like.”

  Van knew he’d really have to watch his kids from now on, especially his sons, to make sure they didn’t fall into the same Smith seduction trap that his poor, defenseless, clueless cousin had.

  “Poor, poor Ric,” Van sighed, before he headed inside the restaurant to find his family.

  Dee-Ann put her arm around Ric’s waist and laid her head on his shoulder. She’d left a very tolerable get-together to track down her mate, locating him at the mouth of the alley, leaning against the side of the building.

  Blayne, fully recovered from her wounds and subsequent slap-fight with Gwen, was working the room in her skates, showing off her faint knife scar. Desiree, Mace, and Marcus were sitting at the table with Bobby Ray and the wild dogs, having the best time, considering all that they’d been through. Although when Desiree thought no one was looking, she’d hug her son tight. Novikov had managed to only insult two or three people so far. Abby had lasted in human form for a good hour before she couldn’t stand it anymore and shifted back to her animal form and had begun to go from table to table, begging for scraps. Hannah sat in a corner, quietly glowering at everyone in the room. Stein continued to complain loudly from the kitchen that he was not slave labor. Malone had shown up with her entire family including a grown daughter Dee had known nothing about, three brothers, her superstar father, and her mother. Their table was right next to Sissy’s table because it’s always a good idea to seat wolves and the lions they love next to tigers who loath both breeds equally.

  Yep, just another day in New York City.

  “Everything all right, darlin’?” she asked.

  Ric’s eyes narrowed a bit, his gaze on the valet in front of his restaurant. “Can you explain to me what possible reason my Uncle Van and your father would have getting out of the same car together?”

  “I could—but you sure you want to hear that response?”

  Putting his arm around Dee’s shoulders, Ric admitted, “As always you have made an excellent point.”

  “I try.”

  “I’d better get back inside,” he said, turning around and putting both his arms around her. “Make sure that food is getting out to the ravening, blood-thirsty hordes.”

  “Or,” Dee said, hugging the man she loved, “you can just call ’em family.”

  “Makes sense. We’re stuck with them anyway. Just like blood relations.”

  “Such a positive viewpoint.”

  “I do my best.”

  Arms around each other’s waists, they headed back to the side door of the restaurant.

  “I never got to say,” Ric told her, “how amazing you looked yesterday in that dress.”

  She smiled, feeling intense pleasure at his praise. “Thank you.”

  Ric held the door open for her. “Although I have to admit, Dee, that in the end, I still prefer you naked.”

  Laughing, Dee walked into the restaurant. “And I still say—like a wolf with a bone, Van Holtz.”

  If you liked this book, you’ve got to try

  DEMON HUNTING IN DIXIE,

  the debut from Lexi George, out this month!

  A ddy shot off the couch like she’d been bitten. The sword-carrying, creature-of-darkness-fighting dude from the park gazed down at her without expression. In the semi-darkness he’d been handsome. In the bright light of her living room he was devastating, a god, a wet dream on steroids. Tall and powerfully built, with wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered down to a lean waist and hips, he was the most handsome man Addy had ever seen. His long, muscular legs were encased in tight-fitting black breeches, and he carried a sword in a sheath across his back. He was also a stranger, a very big stranger, and he stood in her living room.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I am Brand.” He spoke without inflection. “I am a Dalvahni warrior. I hunt the djegrali.”

  “Of course you do.” Hoo boy, the guy was obviously a nut case. Real movie star material, with his shoulder-length black hair and disturbing green eyes, but a whack job nonetheless. Addy grabbed the back of the couch for support as a wave of dizziness assailed her. “That would explain the flaming sword and the medieval get-up you’re wearing. Nice meeting you, Mr. . . . uh . . . Brand.” She flapped her hand in the general direction of the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m a little freaked out. I’d like you to leave.”

  “I cannot leave. The djegrali that attacked you will return.”

  Addy clung to the couch for dear life as the room began to spin. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but I’ll be fine. Really.” She closed her eyes briefly and opened them again. “Dooley will protect me.”

  He crossed his arms on his chest, his expression impassive. “Dooley? You refer, I presume, to the animal that led me to this dwelling?”

  This guy was unbelievable. His superior attitude was starting to tick her off.

  “The ‘animal’ is a dog and, yeah, I mean her.”

  “This I cannot allow.” He spoke with the same irritating calm. Dooley, the traitor, ambled across the room and sat at the man’s feet, gazing up at him in adoration. “She would not be able to defend you against the djegrali.”

  “Cannot allow—” Addy stopped and took a deep breath. She was dealing with a lunatic. He wouldn’t leave and she couldn’t run. She was too woozy to make it to the door. Best to remain calm and not set the guy off. Besides, the spike in her blood pressure made the dizziness worse. “Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly is this juh-whats-a-doodle thing you keep talking about?”

  “The djegrali are demons
.” He raised his brows when she gave him a blank stare. “Evil spirits. Creatures of dark—”

  “I know what a demon is.” The guy thought he was a demon chaser, for Pete’s sake. “Okay, just for grins, let’s say this demon business is for real. What’s it got to do with me?”

  “The demon has marked you. He will return. He will be unable to resist.”

  “Oh, great, so now I’m irresistible. Just my luck he’s the wrong kind of guy. Don’t worry, I’ve got a .38, and like a good Southern girl I know how to use it, so you can leave.” She waved her hand toward the door again. “I’ll be fine. If this demon fellow shows up, I’ll blow his raggedy butt to kingdom come.”

  The corner of his lips twitched, and for a moment she thought he might smile.

  “You cannot kill a djegrali with a mortal weapon.”

  “I’ll rush out first thing tomorrow morning and get me one of those flamey sword things, I promise.”

  Again with the lip twitch. “That will not be necessary. I will protect you.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t!” Addy straightened with an effort. Her chest still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. “I’d never be able to explain you to my mama.”

  “This mama you speak of, she is the female vessel who bore you?”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t call her a vessel to her face, if I were you.”

  “You fear her?”

  Addy rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? The woman scares the crap out of me. Thirty-two hours of labor, and don’t you ever forget it,” she mimicked. “You owe me. Big time.”

  The eye-rolling thing was a mistake, because the room started to spin again.

  “The mama will not be a problem,” he said.

  “You’re darn tootin’ the mama won’t be a problem, ’cause you’re not going to be here!”

  She stepped way from the couch and her knees buckled.

  One moment he was across the room, his shoulder against the wall, the picture of aloof boredom, and the next she was in his arms. She closed her eyes and swallowed a sigh as she was lifted against his hard chest. The man sure had muscles, she’d give him that.