Checking the meat, and although the steaks were cooked more than he liked, he gave her a generous tip, and she left with a smile on her face, and a big gracious thank you.
“If there’s anything you want, Mr. Samsa, just ask for me.” And she handed him her card. The only thing he wanted was to eat and get some rest.
It didn’t take long to polish off the steaks. And he fell asleep at the table and then he lay on the floor. When he woke, the doorbell had been ringing constantly, and it was dark outside.
He knew that something was wrong when it became natural for him to sleep on the floor. He wasn’t in a bed. He was supposed to be in a bed, but he had slept in a cave too long where he discovered he wasn’t comfortable unless he was lying on a cold hard floor.
Hunter picked himself up and strode to the door. “Someone requested a tailor.” Hunter stood back and in marched two men.
One looked at him suspiciously and the other looked adoringly at him.
“You can drop your robe over here.” The young man eyeing and admiring him helped Hunter out of his robe. When he spied Hunter’s magnificent body he said breathless, “Oh my, you really are hung.” Hunter had never heard that expression and he didn’t like the way the young blond man stood back and spent too much time inspecting his body.
The grey haired man was all business. When he touched him it was as if he was a referee in a boxing ring. His hands were hard not dainty like the young man.
“What type of fabric would you like me to use?” The older man questioned.
“I don’t know. I’m not acquainted with the weather in San Francisco.” The older man handed him his robe much to the dismay of the younger blond man who appeared to be upset when Hunter put on the robe and tied the belt around his waist.
“I’d like to leave the choice of fabric to your discretion if you don’t mind. You are the expert.”
“Very well. Will you need anything else, Mr. Samsa?”
“I need everything.”
“We will have some suits ready for you tomorrow late, and I will call my people and tell them you will need shoes, socks, shirts and ties, stop me when I’ve listed everything. Underwear.”
Hunter coughed, “I don’t wear underwear.” The young blond man put one arm across his waist and rested the other under his chin, he breathed hard, and smiled. Hunter thanked them and he let them out.
Restless, Hunter wanted to ride. He put on his old clothes and called for his motorcycle. It was eleven o’clock on a Friday night. He walked out of his suite and walked into the elevator. When he got to the lobby he saw his motorcycle. He smiled because it made him happy. Nothing made him happier than to be in the open air riding or running fast and free.
Striding toward the door with his helmet in his hand, he didn’t see the man walking to the left as he was crossing to the right and they collided. “Watch where you’re going boy.” This was a man in his late twenties or early thirties, he wore an expensive suit with an expensive tie and his watch was more expensive than everything on him.
Hunter stood aside out of politeness and trying to be human. But he wasn’t all human and when he caught himself acting like the werewolf that he is, he calmed and gave way to the Alpha male. But Hunter was the Alpha male. He was in a strange environment, but he wasn’t in his environment, and that’s why he deferred to the human.
Hunter sensed something about him. The man’s aggression was akin to something he had seen before, but he didn’t have time to stop and think about that. He didn’t expect to see him again, and he let the man go without giving him another thought, and the man climb into his limo.
The man watched at Hunter, his steely eyes fixed on him as he climbed across his motorcycle and took off.
Racing through the night going west he took in all the sights. It was a night he enjoyed. No fog and a chill in the air that reminded him of his father’s home near the mountains. He rode and rode and then he saw a bar off the highway and he saw motorcycles parked in front.
He didn’t see anything wrong with stopping there. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t dressed properly. He had on jeans, a flannel shirt, and he had a motorcycle. It was his loneliness that brought him to this bar. He stepped off his motorcycle and parked it among the Harley’s.
When he opened the door, all eyes turned to him. It was like he was an alien on a new planet. He wasn’t like them, but he was like them.
They looked like the outcast, the rebels, and so was Hunter. Walking in, he sat at the end of the bar. The barmaid a woman in her forties, bleached blond wearing a leather vest and leather pants looked over when she spotted him. Her figure was too full for the outfit she wore, but she wore it as if she was Miss America.
“What can I get for you?”
“Anything. I’m open.” Miss America smiled. When she had mixed the drink she placed it in front of Hunter and stood and watched him.
“Are you going to drink?”
“Would you drink with me?”
“I’m not allowed to drink with the customers. But if you have something else in mind I’m open. If not tonight, come back when the moon is full and we can talk.” Hunter looked up at her. “But a good looker like you, it shouldn’t be hard for you to get what you want.”
It probably wouldn’t have been hard to get what he wanted if he didn’t want but one thing and one person.
Chapter 18
He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and smiled. He glanced at the concoction in a shot glass and thought that he could do this even though he had never had a serious drink not hard liquor. Devin was the expert in that category.
Hunter put the glass to his mouth. “What’s in it?”
“Jack Daniels and Bacardi Rum.” He threw it down and then his head started to swirl and his stomach received a signal too late to warn him. When he didn’t pass out, the music started playing and everyone in the place, and it was full, went back to doing what they do.
A pretty young woman who looked like she belonged in a fashion magazine came up to him. His eyes washed over her and he saw all that he needed. Her speech polished. Her face round, her eyes large and blue, and she had soft lips the kind a man or werewolf would want to wake up to each morning.
“You shouldn’t be in here. You don’t belong,” she said. But he wanted to tell her that he belonged in a cave and this bar was nothing compared to what he had been through and who he had become.
If she knew she wouldn’t have said that to him. He wasn’t what he appeared to be. These were the words of a panther shifter who had seen the worst in humanity animal or human, and who better than her could see through him.
“And where do you belong miss?” he said flashing a wicked dangerous smile. It was a good thing for her that it wasn’t a full moon, or he would have her bent over on all fours and showing her where she belonged.
“Not here. I just happen to fall in love with one of these bikers, and I’ve been stuck with him and his friends ever since. They aren’t your kind. You need to get out of here before you get hurt.” That was a joke. Hunter looked around and no one in the bar could match him on fierceness or savagery.
“You don’t know me, miss. I’m not what I seem.”
“And they aren’t what they appear to be either.” He took a second look around the dim lit bar and raised his hand to order another drink. Miss America with the bleach blond hair and leather pants two sizes too small sauntered over with the same drink that would have sent a man to an early grave. Or least to the hospital.
This time he observed the patrons of the bar more closely. The behaviors were not that of humans, but shifters. This bar is full of shifters hiding out, he thought. Not even he had seen so many of them in one place. There were panthers and cats of all kind, bears, and foxes. But this was his world and he was king in his world.
There were no shifters as ferocious as a wolf. With the exception of maybe the lion, but he was in the cat family, and everyone knows who rules cats. At least that’s what Hunter thought. He
was yet to discover that may not have been the rule.
The young woman put her hand on his arm, “You need to leave now. You’re a stranger in here. These shifters have a bond with each other and they are protective of my shifter.” When the girl looked up and Hunter followed her gaze she saw the image of a large man ambling from the corner where a sign read—restroom. That restroom had a picture of a bear.
The bear shifter stood over Hunter. Hunter looked up not surprised. “Why are you talking to him?” She shivered next to Hunter and he could smell the fear coming from her.
“I was just ordering a beer.”
“You don’t drink beer. Try another.” And he snatched her by the arm and she fell across the room.
“Why don’t you try that with me,” Hunter said looking up at the large muscular man who had muscles in his face and neck. He wore a tee shirt and a bandana on his head looking like a young Hulk Hogan.
“I’m new in town and I just stopped by to get a drink.”
“This is not the place to stop. Just keep moving or I will...”
“You will do what?” And Hunter jumped to his feet and shifted into a large white wolf and before the bear shifter could react his quick paws tore across the slow cumbersome bear’s shoulder injuring both arms tearing his tendons in his arms. The bear’s arms went limp and when he raised his large tree trunk legs, Hunter made another swipe at them and he went down on his back with a bang.
The other shifters on seeing their leader being decimated by the werewolf hid under the tables and rushed for the doors. Hunter shifted back, asked the panther for his pants, which he gladly took off and threw in Hunter’s direction. Hunter threw a thousand dollars on the bar.
“What’s that for?” The barmaid questioned.
“For any damages and for you to buy some clothes that fit.” He shot her a warm smile checked on the girl sitting in the corner and when he saw that she was okay, he whispered, “If you need a place to go to when you can’t stand him anymore. My name is Hunter Samsa. I’m staying at the Millennium Hotel in San Francisco.” And he left out of the bar, climbed on his motorcycle, and headed back to San Francisco.
On his ride back to the hotel, he stopped at a gas station. A car with four young women pulled their car next to his motorcycle. “Hey. Aren’t you cold?” The one in the passenger seat said as she exited the car. She had been designated to pump the gas. Hunter didn’t realize he only had on pants and no shirt. He looked down and smiled.
“I like a man that rides a motorcycle,” one woman said after lowering her window.
“I like a man that’s dangerous,” the other woman said.
“You don’t know how dangerous I am.” He looked at her and stared with his deep blue eyes that deepened as he glared at her. She sat back and turned to her companions. “He really is dangerous.”
The driver in the car said, “I don’t give a fuck how dangerous he is. He’s gorgeous. Did you see that body? I would let him fall on me and in me in a quick second.” Hunter heard all of that and shook his head. He strode inside to pay because he didn’t have any credit cards only cash, and when he walked outside, the women were driving off and throwing kisses at him.
He had enough excitement for one night. He had to get up early, and see about getting a place to live because he couldn’t and didn’t want to stay indefinite in a hotel, no matter how convenient it was. He grew up on a ranch with grass and he needed that to be who he is.
Yet he was trying his best to be something he wasn’t.
Reaching the hotel the attendant taking his motorcycle said, “You can’t go in there dressed like that. You need a shirt, sir.”
“I’ll give you a hundred for your shirt.”
“You don’t have to give me anything. I have one in my bag. He walked to the office and came out immediately and handed him a shirt. Hunter put it on.
“I need someone to show me around San Francisco.” The attendant interrupted him.
“I have a job.”
“On your off days, and I’ll make it worth your while. My name is Hunter Samsa. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll have a job for you if you want one. One with better hours and pay.”
Hunter strode into the lobby. A middle age man came from the lounge to the right of him with a pretty woman in her twenties on his arm. She shot a closed smile at Hunter. He nodded at Hunter, walked out of the hotel, and stepped into his limo, and the driver closed the door.
Learning as he goes. Hunter thought, that’s what I need, a limo and a driver to take me around town and wait for me when I have to look for a home and a place for a business.
Stepping into the elevator, Hunter hit the button.
The elevator stopped on the thirty seventh floor. Hunter’s eyes are lowered looking at the buttons when the elevator opens, and in steps the rude human that he had bumped into earlier.
“I thought the elevator was going down,” the man said in a voice gruff. They stood peering at each other, and then it dawned on Hunter what was standing before him. Another shifter. You can’t throw a ball without hitting a shifter in San Francisco, he thought.
But the shifter recognize him as a werewolf and he wasn’t afraid. This shifter had hidden his scent well because Hunter didn’t know what kind he was.
Chapter 19
Normally when confronted with a werewolf’s scent most shifters are uneasy. They give off an odor and Hunter would know exactly what they are and whether they were harmless.
This shifter appeared overconfident, aware of his surroundings, and comfortable in his human form. He raised a thick eyebrow. He passed his hand over his short manicured beard. He was striking for a man in his late twenties and thirties with a hint of gray hairs mixed in with a thick head of dark hair. His side burns met the side of his beard as it framed his hard chiseled face.
Hunter caught a glimpse of him watching him with large menacing amber eyes. And he remembered his father’s teachings when he would accompany him to the cave.
As Hunter watched in silence, in close quarters, his eyes watching the shifter’s large hands, Wilder’s words rang in his ears. “There aren’t but a few lion shifters. Be on your guard because they are dangerous to werewolves. They are strong, quick, and smart.” Hunter had never seen one in shifter form, but the lion shifter knew that he was a werewolf, and he wasn’t intimidated.
The lion shifter stood head erect, self-assured, and never taking his eyes off of Hunter as if he’s stalking him. Hunter watched at him with the patience of a wolf.
When the elevator stopped at his floor, Hunter breathe a sigh of relief when he stepped into the hall of the thirty eighth lobby. He didn’t want to meet him again. It was something about him that made Hunter uneasy and that hadn’t occurred lately.
Lately Hunter had been fearless, but this was the lion shifter’s jungle—the city.
Traveling as a man and navigating city life was something new to Hunter. It would take time for him to become part of this jungle. For now the lion shifter was the king and he knew it.
When Hunter stepped out of the elevator on his floor, the concierge greeted him and asked, “Do you need anything, Mr. Samsa?”
Hunter answered with a shake of his head.
He must have seen the stress on Hunter’s face. Opening the door to the suite and reaching for the phone, he called to rent a limo. They asked if he needed a driver and he said he had one. The person on the other end said that the limo will be waiting in the morning at seven.
Hunter woke on Sunday morning. He woke lying on the floor. Again he hadn’t made it to the bed, but this time he had an excuse. That drink the barmaid gave him at the shifter bar, knocked him out, and his memory was distorted for a few minutes. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten into his room, but then he remembered the menacing amber eyes of a lion shifter.
Trying to stand he reached for the bed and caught sight of the clock. “Shit. It’s noon.” And then he recalled the limo on call. It was late now, and he walked into the shower, and he r
emembered that he didn’t have any clothes.
Making the shower short, he reached for a robe, and strolled into the living room. He hit a switch and the curtains open and the lights came on and that’s when he saw steel racks in the living room, where rows and rows of suits and accessories hung.
Wondering how he got his shoe size, he thought about how professional the old man was, unlike his young assistant who made Hunter nervous. And it took a lot to make Hunter nervous because he never had a man, or male werewolf look at him in a sexual way before.
He had a lot to learn.
Life was simple in Samsaville and living among werewolves and shifters in the wild, he knew what to expect, but the city life presented a whole new set of rules and problems which he had to learn to navigate, and learn who to avoid.
He knew instinctively to avoid the lion shifter.
Today he would look for a place to live and get out of the hotel and out of the way of that shifter, he thought. After dressing he sat looking at his phone. He thought it best to call home. Let someone know that he had made it to San Francisco.
Hunter picked up his phone and hit dial. He thought about texting but he hadn’t said good bye to his mother or anyone but Christine. The phone rang and no one answered. It rang again.
Then someone with a small voice answered. “Hello.” A woman answered. Hunter didn’t recognize the voice.
“Let me speak to Wilder or Adrienne.”
“They’re not here. They have gone into town.”
“Is anyone there in the family?”
“Hunter, is that you?”
“Who is this?”
“Haley. Don’t you recognize my voice? Well I guess not, because you’ve never heard it over the phone. But I would recognize your voice. I live to hear you tell me you love me one day.”
“Don’t start that now, Haley. Tell my father and mother that I made it to San Francisco okay.”
“So that’s where you are. You left me with strangers and went off without me. My father asked you to take care of me, and you promised him, and this is what you do. You are a man without honor.”
Insatiable: Moon Tide Book 6 Page 11