by Aline Hunter
Simone paused, staring openly at Rachel. Declan knew when the werebitch smelled the change, identifying the burgeoning wolf within his female. Taking her attention from Rachel, Simone studied him, shaking her head.
“Really?” she said, laughing. “You’re mating a mutt?”
Rachel froze when the insult struck home. Declan wanted to knock the hell out of the female. True, Rachel wasn’t a full-blooded werewolf or Halfling but she belonged to his pack. That gave her value. A respectful member of any pack didn’t sling mud at others. Simone knew better. The bitch simply didn’t care. He’d never struck a female before in his life but he found himself sorely tempted.
“Better a mutt than a slut,” Rachel snapped hotly, trying to wriggle from his arm, “A man will always take a bitch to bed but that doesn’t mean she’s suitable material when it’s time to meet Momma.”
Shit.
Rachel hadn’t shifted yet but he still felt the strength of her beast. And no wonder. Rachel was all iron will, ready to engage in battle and throw the fuck down. He felt the hum from her, the way her muscles collected as she prepared to pounce. As an added precaution he wrapped his other arm around her midsection, creating an unbreakable hold. She might be able to hold her own against a human but she had to shift before she could take down a werewolf bitch.
“Simone,” he hissed, baring his fangs, “I’ll let Jackson know how you feel about the newest member of the pack. I’m sure he’ll want to let everyone know how you welcomed her to our family.”
“Simone?” Rachel asked, going eerily still at his side.
Glancing down, he asked softly, “You know her?”
“I want to go back to the car,” she whispered, lowering her gaze. “Please let me go.”
Had Chloe told her about Simone? Had his Lupa had a chance to share the pack’s suspicions about the female before he’d burst into his bedroom earlier that morning?
He tried to get a read on Rachel’s scent but Simone interrupted them—again.
“By all means,” the haughty female retorted, hands on her hips, her red lacquered nails bright and shiny. “Tell him. I’ll be sure to show you the same courtesy. I have a feeling I’m not the only one who hasn’t gotten the wonderful news regarding your mating. It seems Jackson’s keeping a lot of secrets nowadays.”
His mating—while not vital to the pack hierarchy, necessarily—was something the other packs would want to know about as soon as possible. As a Beta they trusted him to be up front in all matters just as they were. As soon as Simone got home and opened her mouth Jackson would find more shit steaming up his already full plate. They’d want to know how long Jackson had known about Declan’s mating and why he hadn’t spoken up about the matter. If they found out Rachel had been human and that Jackson had given Declan permission to change her without consulting the Alphas in the area things might turn sour.
“Let go,” Rachel whispered, squirming away from him.
He almost didn’t. Something told him it was best to keep her close. But she seemed calm, almost strangely so. He let go and she walked back to the door and climbed into the SUV. He tore his eyes from his mate and attuned himself to Simone. He’d never liked the woman but he’d never truly hated her.
Until now.
“Word around the packs is you left town.” Simone smiled, cherry-red lips parting into a wide smile. “The newest addition to your pack didn’t have anything to do with your absence, did it?”
“I have five words for you,” he replied, getting ready to close Rachel’s door and leave, “None of your fucking business.”
Rachel took him off guard, slamming her feet into his chest when he made it to her. He hit the ground in a blink, using all the speed within him to get back on his feet. In that time his feisty little mate had crossed over to Simone, wielding the tire iron he kept beneath his passenger seat for emergencies. Simone was old and quick enough to avoid the blows, granting him enough time to reach Rachel. He wasn’t easy or timid as he caught her, wrapping his arms around her middle.
She screamed in fury, kicking and waving the length of metal in her hand. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with,” she roared, her voice deeper than normal.
“Calm down.”
He called on his strength as a Beta, trying to quiet the wolf inside Rachel that was new to the world and therefore confused. It needed more time to develop. Unstable emotions were all Rachel had given it thus far. Since she couldn’t shift the rage would only intensify, creating fury that had no outlet.
Not yet.
“Listen to me, Rachel. Calm down.”
Realizing she wasn’t going to get free, Rachel threw the tire iron at Simone’s face. Simone moved but the sharp edge caught her cheek, breaking the skin. Simone brought her hand up, eyes saucered as she assessed the injury. Blood seeped past her fingers, matching the color of her nails, her skin healing but not quickly enough.
“That’s only a sample of what’s coming to you,” Rachel snarled, fighting him for all she was worth. “Next time there won’t be anyone holding me back. I’ll kick your ass good and proper. You’d better pack a lunch. It’s going to be an all-day fucking affair!”
Son of bitch! Has she always been this brutal?
“That’s enough,” he thundered, walking to the passenger side door to close it. Since he didn’t trust Rachel he stormed to the driver’s side. Even if it meant driving for a couple of miles with her in her arms, traveling with his door open, he had to leave.
He couldn’t keep Rachel in line like this.
He’d only seen a similar fury once before, after a rowdy pup playing football had flown into the spectator area of a park and injured Gage. One tiny cry—the unbearable echo of his sister’s pain—and his dad had gone batshit. Declan hadn’t been there to witness the event but he’d heard about it. Pops hadn’t taken it easy on the young male, unleashing his fury with his fists. His mother had been the only person who could pull his old man off the whimpering pup, pleading with him to listen.
If it hadn’t been for her, his father could have been tried for murder.
He’d nearly killed the fucker.
He felt for the poor bastard who mated with Gage. He wouldn’t have it easy. In fact, he’d have it pretty damn hard.
Dad will fucking kill him.
“You don’t have to worry about me.” Rachel squirmed against him, gaining his full attention. “I can take care of myself, you know. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“I’ll always worry about you. And you don’t need to take care of yourself anymore. Since you haven’t taken the hint let me spell it out—that’s my job.” He tried to remain cool and composed but it wasn’t easy. She itched like a rash under his skin, finding just the right places to poke and prod. “But you shouldn’t go starting shit with strangers. It’s not smart.”
“She’s not a stranger,” Rachel retorted caustically.
“You know her?”
Simone had returned to her car and pulled away. Jackson had to know what had happened. Until Declan was on the road he couldn’t make the call. Rachel had to come first, meaning he had to get the fuck out of here. How did this keep happening? One minute it seemed like he’d turned a corner. The next minute something appeared to knock him off track.
“She’s the woman who tried to kill Chloe.” Rachel stopped struggling, the fight draining from her. Feeling the change—hearing the defeat in her tone—made him wish he’d let her take a shot at Simone. “She’s the one who’s responsible for everything that’s happened.”
So Chloe had found time to tell Rachel what the pack suspected. Not only had Rachel faced the woman who’d tried to harm her best friend, she’d also faced the woman who’d likely caused the bite that had changed her. If the roles were reversed he’d have unleashed his temper too. Simone was lucky to get off with a scratch on the side of the face.
No wonder she lost it.
“Don’t worry. You can let go now.” As soon as he did she started climbing
over the console to her seat, telling him softly, “I’ll behave.”
“Rachel.” He stopped her midway to her destination, grasping her by the arm. She looked at him and he saw how much the confrontation had taken from her. “I don’t want you to behave. I like you just the way you are. But I have to call Jackson. Simone loves to stir shit. If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s got snitches in town. People saw us pull up and then boom, she appears.”
“People saw us?” Rachel paled. He was afraid she was humiliated by their physical display when she cleared the matter up. “What if they saw me hit her?” she asked, obviously petrified. “Will they call the supernatural police? Does that really exist?” Her lower lip trembled. “Will I go to jail? Oh shit. Is there jail for werewolves?”
“Sunshine,” he murmured, stroking her arm with his thumb, wanting to kiss her instead, “we don’t have jails or police. Not like yours. And even if we did you don’t have to worry about that. News will spread but not in the way you might think.”
“News will spread?” Her eyes sought his, the fear he thought he’d put a dent in returning. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is everyone will know I’ve got a hellcat on my hands. They’ll want to see you for themselves.” That was why he needed to change his schedule for a little while longer. Rachel needed more time. If he hurried to work and got his planner it wouldn’t take long to rearrange appointments. Planting a fast kiss on her slightly parted lips, he added, “Now get in your seat. We need to stop by the shop before we go to get your things.”
Rachel sighed, settling in her seat. “The Wolf’s Den?”
“Yeah.” He started the vehicle and glanced at her. “Why?”
“It’s where everything started. I guess I thought I’d never go back.”
“You know what they say, don’t you, sunshine?”
“Humans or werewolves?
“Both.”
She frowned at him and he said, “Never say never, baby.”
Chapter Five
Shane settled into the booth he’d been guided to and studied the rogue werewolf across from him. The male looked like shit, his eyes bloodshot, breath reeking of whiskey. Shane had gotten word that a snitch was willing to talk about the attack on Jackson’s pack for the right price. If there was one benefit in coming to town as a rogue it was having access to insider information. All it had taken was a phone call to churn the wheels, bringing him face-to-face with a male who probably wouldn’t live to see another day.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Shane initiated the conversation, ready to get the ball rolling. “I was told you might have information I need.”
The loner laughed, giving his head a shake. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t look like someone I need to get involved with.”
Now that was very true. “Can you help me or not?
“For the right price? Sure I can help you.”
No way would he pay the fucker. That went against his grain.
But his companion didn’t need to know that just yet.
“Then talk,” he ordered, letting his beast peer out through his eyes.
As a born Alpha he had the power to influence wolves. It was a birthright he’d walked away from. The act had eaten at his soul like acid but he’d had no choice. His mate had called to him and he’d followed, trying to find her despite the darkness that always kept her from view. They’d shared dreams but each one was a black void, revealing nothing but her soft voice as she called out to him, drawing him in. Once there she trapped him with sensation, forcing him to use all his senses, only to vanish into thin air.
At first that seemed fine. Dreamsharing was tricky business.
But then she hadn’t sought him out.
The last few months he’d felt her need rising. If she hadn’t hit her first mating heat she would soon. Which was why knew something prevented her from seeking him out. In his torment the wolf had started sharing its thoughts and view on things. The animal figured if she couldn’t come to them then they’d go to her. He’d shaken off the idea until weeks had passed. Unable to stay but devastated to leave, he’d said goodbye to his pack.
A hot stab of pain pierced his chest.
Handing the reins over to another Alpha had broken something inside him. He still wasn’t certain he was entirely over it. Thankfully the wolf had risen to hold him, taking away his pack urges as it guided him where it felt he needed to be. As a result he’d landed in Atrum Hill. He couldn’t identify the connection, unable to sense his mate, but his wolf told him they had gone far enough.
So he’d put down roots, joining Jackson Donovan’s pack.
Yet his mate still remained out of his reach.
He’d visited the packs, gone on hunts, hoped for a glimpse or sliver of scent of the woman who belonged to him. But he hadn’t found her. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Maybe he was delusional but he’d always trusted his wolf. The beast knew this was where he was supposed to stay, no matter how long it took.
What if it’s wrong? What if there’s nothing here but an empty existence?
“I ain’t saying shit until I see my reward,” the male retorted. “You got the money?”
He lifted his gaze, staring at the male who’d addressed him. The rogue smirked, amused and unthreatened by Shane’s command. It wasn’t any wonder. Shane’s wolf was sidetracked, thinking only of her. His nerves weren’t as good as they used to be, his patience unusually thin.
They couldn’t function like this.
How could he command respect if he didn’t fucking respect himself?
Focus, damn it.
Thrusting aside thoughts of the female he yearned for, he let months of frustration course through him, providing it with an easy outlet. He didn’t hold back, letting his animalistic nature in on the high. The wolf responded, equally angry and frustrated. He snarled, baring his teeth. The rogue paled, the smug smile wiped off his face.
“How about you start talking before you ask about green?” Shane kept his lips back, his teeth in full view. “That’s right. I’m just itching for a fight. Provoke me again and you won’t like what happens. I’ll use your ass to wipe up the bar. Give me a reason to jack you up.”
“I’m just passing through. I’m not trying to make enemies.” The male swiped one of his filthy hands through his tousled hair, cowed and submissive. “And my information is secondhand.”
Funny he didn’t mention that before. “Then say what you came to say.”
“Were you really a loner? You don’t look like a rogue.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“But you joined a pack.”
“I’ve recently found my female,” he replied, lying just a teensy bit. The rogue was suspicious. He needed to find common ground. “That changes things.”
“I wouldn’t know,” the informant confessed sheepishly. “Not being mated and all.”
A waitress walked over, moving with a grace that only vampires possessed. She crossed the distance in the blink of an eye and stopped beside them. “What can I get you?”
“A shot of house whiskey,” Shane replied, keeping his gaze on the rogue.
In a flash the server was gone. Totally expected considering her nature. The Divide was the perfect place to meet all things supernatural. The staff didn’t stop to chat. Therefore there were never unnecessary questions. Just the way werewolves and blood drinkers liked it. Since it was midday the joint wasn’t hopping. That would change once the sun dipped below the horizon. After dark patrons would jam the bar and crowd the small dance floor.
“I’d start talking if I were you,” he pushed, voice low. “Time’s almost up.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.” That was the truth but he decided to bend it to suit his needs. “But remember who arranged this meeting. I wasn’t the one offering up answers for money, and I wouldn’t have heard about the gossip if
I didn’t have a strong connection with loners around these parts. You offered me a service, not the other way around.”
“True.”
Shane nodded, staring at the male. “So tell me why I’m here.”
“Word has it a female sent someone after your women.” The way he said it made Shane’s hackles rise, like he knew far more but wasn’t sharing unless he had to. The fucker thought he was clever. “She found a loner and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
That was interesting. “What kind of offer?”
“What kind do you think?” The rogue snorted, his roughly shadowed face contorting into a façade of self-loathing. “Reckless we might be but we don’t have a death wish. It just takes the right amount of convincing. A little bit of comfort, you might say.”
Make that very interesting. “She fucked him?”
The male nodded. “Rumor has it.”
Pack bitches would never lower themselves to rogue’s level. No matter how great the temptation. He’d been told so as a boy and learned it firsthand after he’d left his pack. Not that it mattered. On a mission to find his mate, he didn’t want anyone else. But he’d seen the way females had looked at him when he’d arrived at Atrum Hill. They appreciated his appearance but they weren’t likely to touch. Only two women were desperate enough to consider such a thing and—surprise, surprise—they both wanted Chloe Bryant dead.
“Do you have a description?”
The rogue paused, shifting back as the waitress returned with a shot of whiskey in the center of a tray. Shane pulled out a wad of money, letting the rogue get a good look. Then he pulled a large bill loose and exchanged the money for the drink.
“Keep the change.”
The woman left and Shane slid the money into his jacket. The rogue’s eyes followed each motion of his hand and then his gaze dropped to the liquor. The drunken male was practically begging for another taste of rotgut. Pack wolves weren’t known for heavy drinking. Loners, on the other hand, descended into absolute destruction. It was a part of their nature.