by Mary Hughes
The wolf trotted in behind her. The moment she shut and locked the door, the wolf’s edges blurred. Its form unfolded, morphing. Fur retracted, lean limbs lengthened and thickened with masculine muscle. All fours reared onto two, back unfurling and head rolling up while legs and arms and torso lengthened. Clothes blossomed to cover him just before he finished forming. In less time than it took to describe it, a man stood before her in jeans and a jacket.
It was the hot man from the pet store.
Without the apron he was very sexy indeed. He stood at his elegant ease, black hair curling carelessly around his fine ears, thumbs in his jeans pockets, hip cocked. His sharp eyes told her that, despite being a dog groomer, this man was not one to cross lightly.
“Did Noah send you?” she blurted.
“Hmm.” The corner of his mouth curled. “If I say yes, I could be lying. If I say no, you’ll run. I’ll say ‘yes’.”
“Right. Stupid question.” She normally wasn’t stupid, but she’d had a rough couple of days, culminating in the shock of incredible sex, her mate having to fight, and now these brilliant, penetrating black eyes. “Okay. Who are you?”
“Someone to keep you out of trouble.”
In the pet store it seemed perfectly appropriate not to know his name. Now it rankled. “Did Noah ask you to watch me? Are you in his pack?”
“I owe the Blackwood pack a favor,” he said, answering nothing. “I happened to overhear him trying to get his second to follow you, to ‘Keep her from getting herself killed’, which I interpreted as keeping you out of trouble. Watching you in action, though…now I understand what he meant.”
She flushed. “Noah’s overprotective. What I’m doing isn’t dangerous.” Or at least it wouldn’t be, after she combed Auntie’s stash for a helper item. She stowed the mushroom under the register—oh, there was her suitcase—and started searching, one eye on the nameless man.
“Not dangerous?” The man’s very fine lips quirked in her periphery. “Noah’s usually a pretty good judge, both of people and situations.”
“He’s emotionally involved. It’s clouded his judgment.”
The man raised one black brow, arching high. He sniffed delicately, his fine nostrils flaring. “Ah, yes. I understand.”
Like he hadn’t smelled the sex before. Which reminded her, she’d have to stay downwind of Bonnie and Clyde. “Don’t pretend not to have super-smell. I know you’re a shifter.”
The man shrugged. “I can shift.” The twinkle in his eye hinted at implications with a capital Imp.
She snatched up a calm amulet from a nearby barrel. Not for the five anti-alphas—for her, so as not to smack Mr. I-Can-Shift to the moon. He was not only annoying, he’d obviously had a lot of practice at it.
“Whatever.” She opened the cabinet nearest her, labeled Last Chance Sale!! (unsorted), revealing shelves littered with magical paraphernalia: wands, scrolls, loose crystals, potions in jewel-toned glass vials, and amulets both simple and gemmed. No way to tell what any of them were, at least not in the mundane way.
So she opened her third eye to the possibilities. Immediately the competing chatter of the talismans crowded her. “Pick me, pick me!” they cried. “You need help. Pick me!”
Oh great. Leave it to Auntie to have obnoxiously helpful talismans. Sophia felt like Alice in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland where the cakes all cried, “Eat me”. Or was that Through the Looking Glass? Then she remembered what a big bad alpha shifter and she had done in the looking glass…staying in Wonderland, then.
The talismans’ voices were getting louder, shriller. Her head started to throb. To stave off a headache, she dropped the calm amulet, reached into the cabinet, and picked one.
Behind her, gorgeous no-name guy cleared his throat. “Good choice…if you’re trying to kill her.”
She cracked a physical eye. She held a foot-long copper rod with an ivory ceramic handle on one end and a small ball at the tip of the other. It looked like a toy wand. She turned it over to read the label. “Lightning rod. Used for ritual electrocutions.”
Her eyes flew wide, all three of them. Yikes. What the hell was Auntie doing with a thing like that? She tossed it back.
“Although it would clear the field for Noah,” Nameless Guy went on. “I think you can turn the level down.”
“Like a magical stun gun?” She still left it in the cabinet. “How’d you know I was looking to clear the way for Noah?”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “The Jamies are a bit deaf. I could hear you through the front window.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“Please. I prefer aural fact-finding. What you don’t know can hurt you.”
“Look, I just want to get Bonnie out of her house without raising suspicions. Clyde would know something was wrong if I zapped her.”
“How about this?” He reached into the cabinet near her head. Her hair crackled, and she shivered as he brought the thing out past her, like it was covered in electricity. Unless his personal aura was just that potent. He handed it to her.
A clear plastic case held a small multi-colored disk, about four inches in diameter. “It looks like a coaster.”
“Ulysses S. Grant’s coaster, to be precise. You want to get Bonnie to go out drinking, correct? This will make the urge an obsession. Slip it onto her person, and she’ll immediately want to visit a bar.”
“Won’t she just pop a beer from the fridge?”
“No, that’s not how it works,” he said with such exaggerated patience that she wanted to beat him with a humility bat. “It heightens whatever she loves most about bars. Take a closer look.”
“Fine.” Opening her third eye she saw the coaster would indeed prompt the desire to visit a bar or tavern. And something more…she reached for it but couldn’t quite tell.
“C’mon, Sophia, you’re not marrying it. Take it and let’s go. Knowing Noah, he’ll start with Bonnie and Clyde, specifically so you won’t be exposed to Bonnie.”
“Crispy fried cobwebs. That’s just like him, isn’t it?” She shut her third eye and opened her temporal ones. Coaster in hand, she headed out the door, locking it after them. “I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t need protecting.” She started east, then stopped.
“Everybody needs protecting at some time or another. Including big bad alphas. What’s wrong? If you’re going to get there before Noah does, you’d better hurry.”
“I need to hide the coaster. I left my coat in the store.”
“Put it in your skirt pocket.”
“If it fits.” She slid the case into the skirt pocket, then stuck her hip out to look at it. “It bulges.”
“So she’ll think you’re happy to see her. Come on. Noah won’t take long to convince Mason to head there, and you frittered away half that jawing with the Jamies. You have maybe five minutes.”
“Right.” She started up again, setting a brisk pace for four-inch heels. “You’re coming along? This isn’t just a favor to the pack, is it? What’s in it for you?”
His lips quirked. “You’re a sharp little witch, aren’t you? I have a bike that’s a bit specialized. Mason’s the only one who can keep it in top condition.”
“That vintage motorcycle in pieces?” She cut a penetrating glance at him. Something about his lazy saunter and lowered lids made her think he wasn’t telling her the whole story.
“No, the Ducati is Mason’s. At least his name’s on the title. Of course, emotionally, it’s Noah’s.”
“Huh?”
“Please. It’s obvious that bike is Noah’s promise to both himself and Mason that he’ll fix what’s wrong here in Blackwood territory.”
“If you roll your eyes any farther, they’ll stick looking at the inside of your skull. Although then you’ll see your favorite person, won’t you? That bike doesn’t look fixed to me.”
“Noah’s a damned good alpha but he isn’t a mechanic. He needs help. He hasn’t admitted that yet, though. We’re here.”
; “Right.” Sophia took a deep breath and started up the curving front walk to Bonnie and Clyde’s home.
Chapter Seventeen
After Killer’s, Bonnie and Clyde’s house was a surprise, a neat bungalow with a white picket fence and a freshly clipped lawn. A curving walk, lined by petunias of all things, led to a home that sat primly in a nest of neatly trimmed shrubs.
The nameless man stopped and morphed into the black wolf, this time flowing from form to form so fluidly Sophia knew he’d been deliberately showing her the process last time. Or maybe he was showing off now.
As she clipped up the walk, no toenails clicked beside her, either. She glanced at the wolf. “If you won’t tell me your name, I’ll have to give you one. How about Major Annoyance? Snarky Sidekick?”
His head tilted to look at her. One corner of his wolfie mouth quirked up. Then he leaped into the bushes and hunkered down.
She mounted the stoop. The front screen door was closed, the inside door open. She leaned in to peer through the screen, straight into wafting plumes of rough smoke, an El Sleazo cigar. The interior was quiet, dark, and stinky. Stifling a cough, she rang the doorbell.
Light, quick steps approached.
Bonnie opened the door. She was a surprise too, wavy blonde hair, white flip-flops, pink calf-length skinny jeans, and a short pink top with “Baby Doll” in sparkly letters. A swath of smoothly muscled tummy peeked between the top and jeans.
A strong, sweet cloud of perfume enveloped her. Between that and the cigar smoke, Sophia stopped worrying about the smell of Noah on her.
“What do you want?” Bonnie said.
“It’s what I can do for you.” Sophia gave Bonnie her best trusty smile and wished really hard on her lucky broomstick that Bonnie would let her inside, at least long enough to plant the coaster. “I’m from the American Barkeeping Association. You’ve won a free pass to the neighborhood bar of your choice.”
Clyde appeared behind Bonnie. With his wiry muscularity, threadbare jeans, and skintight, yellowed beater shirt, he was gangster werewolf to the hilt. “Who is it?” He puffed a cigar around the words like a locomotive.
“Dunno,” Bonnie said. “Someone selling something.”
“It’s free!” Sophia put on her bestest, honestest grin—and stuck her toe in the door. Hopeful didn’t equal stupid. “May I come in to tell you more?”
Bonnie shook her head. “We’re expecting someone.”
“No problem. I’ll be quick.” Not throwing her out was as good as an invitation, right? She surged forward, so Bonnie either had to step back or actively resist. She stepped back. Yes.
As Sophia came inside, she slid the coaster case out of her pocket, eyeing Bonnie for likely hiding places. The shifter woman’s pink spandex camisole was so tight every ounce of fat was smooshed up into her boobs, making spectacular cleavage. Sophia really wanted one, especially now that she’d met Noah…argh. Focus. If she could tuck the coaster in Bonnie’s cleavage—
“This way.” Bonnie spun and, with a sway of hips, took off.
Sophia squeaked and leaped after her. Clyde fell into step behind.
The door opened onto a cozy living room, a conversation area to one side boasting a tartan sofa facing two chairs, a pine plank coffee table between. An end table held a cordless phone.
Sophia thumbed the case’s plastic tab as she followed. Now the only hiding place presenting itself was Bonnie’s painted-on jeans pockets. She’d almost certainly feel Sophia sliding the coaster in. Maybe cover by giving Bonnie’s rump a buddy slap? She’d have to hope she didn’t slug her.
Okay, go for it. Sophia flipped the coaster case open—or tried. The case was the bastard child of a clam and super glue. She wrenched on it.
Bonnie turned just as the case came open with a snap.
The coaster flew out like bread from a toaster on crack. Sophia snatched at it, bobbled it, and barely caught it.
The room spun around her. An intense desire to go bar crawling hit her and grabbed her by the lizard brain, degenerating into Me like beer. She stumbled a few steps.
“You okay?” Bonnie stood in front of one of the chairs, and Sophia had stumbled to stand before the couch. The she-wolf reached a sympathetic hand over the table to steady her.
Sophia slapped the coaster back into its case by instinct alone. The dizziness receded. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Bonnie dropped her hand from Sophia’s arm to point at the case. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” Sophia jammed the half-open case under her armpit.
Click. Shut again. Stupid case.
Bonnie frowned. “But—”
“Let me tell you about your marvelous prize. Free drinks at the local tap of your choice! One night only.” Sophia’s grin felt pop-riveted on. She dropped onto the couch. Apparently the coaster worked on contact. Maybe she could just hand it to Bonnie like a prize token—assuming it would come out of the case. Although if Bonnie dropped it, the jig would be up. “Open bar as long as you stay. Free-free-free!”
“Free is good.” Bonnie sat down in the chair. “There’s a nice bar right on our corner.”
Yes, I know. Sophia’s smile broadened until she was grinning like a maniac. Bonnie had fallen neatly into her trap.
Bonnie’s expression froze, and she slid back in her chair as if not quite certain of Sophia’s sanity.
Sophia lost the rapacious grin fast. “Imagine that. A bar on your corner would be ideal. Let’s go!” She sprang to her feet. Maybe she wouldn’t need the magic coaster to get Bonnie out of here. Maybe the magic word “free” would be enough.
“You can’t.” Clyde put a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “Marlowe said you-know-who is coming.”
“Oh.” Bonnie’s face fell. “I’m sorry Miss…Miss Barkeeping Association person. I can’t go right now. Later?”
“Sorry, the rules don’t allow that. I’ll just have to give this Marvelous Free Opportunity to someone else.” Sophia shrugged, pretending not to care.
“Okay.”
Sophia gritted her teeth. “Too bad you’re missing this Wonderful Never-To-Be-Repeated Offer. Free-free-free.”
“Too bad. But thanks for thinking of me.”
Enamel cracked. “One Time Only. Last chance.”
“I’m sorry, Miss…whatever.” Bonnie rose and gestured toward the door. “You can see yourself out.”
Sophia started for the door with great reluctance. Double-bubble her toil and trouble; she’d failed to get Bonnie out of the way, and now Noah’d have to battle two wolf shifters at once.
Sophia stopped. Unless she, as his mate, could fight Bonnie while he thrashed Clyde. She cut a glance at Bonnie. The wolfwoman stood with the grace of a dancer or a martial artist. Considering the amount of slender muscle in her arms and torso, Sophia probably couldn’t actually fight her for any length of time.
But she could distract Bonnie from Noah by taking a long time getting brutally torn apart. Yay.
A wolf’s yip came from outside. An instant later arguing voices, getting louder, sounded like men coming up the walk.
One voice was Noah’s.
Clyde grinned viciously around his cigar. “You-know-who is here.”
Sophia’s heart kicked into overdrive. Dammit, she would not fail her mate. She was planting that coaster on Bonnie’s barely covered self if she had to insert it like a tampon. Sophia tore the case open.
As Bonnie passed her on the way to the door, Sophia shoved the coaster deep between the wolfwoman’s boobs.
“What the fuck?” Bonnie looked down at herself. Her hand reached into her bosom.
Sophia froze. All was lost. She managed a grab at Bonnie’s shoulder. “Don’t—”
“Hic.” Bonnie swayed slightly. Slowly, her hand dropped. She hiccupped again.
Then her frown spun up into a come-hither smile. “Oh, Clyde. Clyyy-dee honey.”
“Not now, Bonnie.” Clyde hovered near the door, craning for a look out the screen.
She sa
shayed to him with an ultra-sexy hip roll and caught him by the shoulders. She practically draped her body around his. “Clyde, babe. Forget you-know-who. Let’s go around the corner—and do it on the bar again.”
Again?
“Are you drunk?” Clyde asked suspiciously.
“Didn’ have a drop.” She burped. She rubbed her foot sensuously—against his butt. Wow, she was flexible. “C’mon, babe. You know you want to.”
Sophia felt a sort of triumphant horror. Apparently when Bonnie got drunk, she got horny and exhibitiony.
Another warning yip came from Annoying Nameless Guy. Sophia had mere moments to peel Bonnie off Clyde and get her out of here. “Come on, Bonnie, I’ll take you to the bar.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Bonnie giggled, cut short with a hiccup. “I think you’re too short to do it on the bar with me.”
Sophia was speechless long enough for a nasal male voice to cut through. “An alpha should have pussy, not be a pussy.”
“Attila’s fuckin’ right.” That was Killer, nearly at the door.
Attila gave a nasal laugh. “You’re screwed without a mate, Blackwood.”
Sophia’s chest iced over. Killer, Clyde, and Attila? She remembered the last as a big, barrel-chested gray wolf. Three against Noah? Mason would have to help. And if she couldn’t spring Bonnie loose, she’d have to fight too, although without her magic she’d have to rely on her pepper spray…which was in her coat pocket, hanging at the store, damn it. Maybe the nameless man would join in to even the score, but she wasn’t hopeful. She plucked at Bonnie’s arm. “We need to go.”
“Clydee, please.” Bonnie grabbed Clyde’s head and thrust it into her bosom.
Okay, maybe he’d suffocate, and it’d be three against three.
“Whatever you say, I am alpha.” Noah’s voice rang with confidence. “It doesn’t matter what you will or won’t accept.”