Grinding her smoke into the pavement Serra tilted her head back to blow a jet of smoke into the brisk night air. Sometimes she swore that the soothing balm of nicotine was the only thing holding her together. Holding her I.D. between her index and middle fingers, she offered it to the coyote manning the door. She didn’t try to hide her smirk as he looked from it to her and recognized the name or her, from their previous meeting. Serra didn’t have to come in through the front door, but Pops was always telling her she had to be more of a people person. So she was playing nice, giving the Garou fair warning that a Mangas was in town and wasn’t looking for trouble. That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t check out and poach the talent for her family’s club in Cali. Nodding and sliding her license into her back pocket when he gave it back, she followed the human cattle inside.
Spinning slowly on her stilettos, she took it all in, her sapphire eyes locking on the Panther manning the microphone. Raising a brow with her typical smirk glued in place, she cut through the crowd not caring if she pushed a little too hard or stepped on toes. Serra had no intention of stopping until she had an unobstructed view. She had a job to do, and as long as she sent a steady stream of bands to The Asylum, Pops wouldn’t ask any questions or demand that she come home. Or at least, she hoped so.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she took him in. Scuffed biker boots covered by black jeans stretched over powerful thighs and ass that was downright bitable. A black wife beater covered what was obviously a ripped chest and set of abs, displaying the ink that covered bulging arms and shoulders that made Serra want to purr. He prowled the stage with fluid panther grace during the guitar solo. Serra waited to see if the face matched the set of pipes he was rocking. Sadly, usually, it didn’t.
A push from behind, made her snarl and flash a look over her shoulder that offered a slow death, making the biker back the fuck up with wide eyes. Serra might be what they called petite at only five foot seven, but she didn’t suffer fools or being touched, and she wasn’t afraid to prove it. Satisfied that it would not happen again, she turned back to the band to find herself pinned by the front man’s hazel eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and the room suddenly felt like the heat had been cranked all the way up. Wiping the bitch off her face, she raised a brow and inclined her head slightly.
Hot damn, he was easy on the eyes. If this was the Panther she’d been hearing so much about, Pops would be pleased. A kick ass voice and looks would have the place packed and the panties raining down on the stage. Just the way they liked it back at The Asylum. “Find me when you’re done, Babe,” she sent via mindlink, receiving an arched brow for her trouble. Shrugging her shoulders, she turned to push her way through the people toward the bar. Glancing over her shoulder to find his eyes still on her, Serra added, “Or don’t. Up to you.”
Sitting at the bar, not exactly nursing her beer, she waited for the set to end, fully expecting the Panther to find her. He didn’t, and that just pissed her off. She wasn’t used to being blown off by anyone. That and in spite of everything she was trying to wade through in her life, she wanted him to find her. Too many people bumping into her made Serra twitchy, so she headed out into the alley for a smoke. Pulling the sweet nicotine from the inside jacket pocket, she patted her pockets, not finding her lighter. It was going to be one of those nights.
“Fuck me,” she growled, glancing up to find tall, buff and heavy on the attitude leaning against the wall. “Save a life and tell me you have a light?”
Jared looked at her. “Sorry, can’t help you. I don’t smoke. It’s nasty. But hey, cancer that shit up if you’re into it.” He said, watching people come and go.
Cursing under her breath, Serra tossed the cigarette into the trash can. “Should probably quit anyway.” She couldn’t help noticing that the panther smelled amazing, a combination of the woods and a spicy musk that made her want to purr, but she squashed that shit fast. “I caught your set. You were good.” She held out her hand. “I’m Serra.”
“Smart choice.” He shook her hand. “Thanks. I’m just a fill-in for the band. Jared, but most call me J.”
“Which do you prefer?” Smiling, she let his hand go and in typical Panther fashion, let her eyes slide over him like he was on the menu as her next meal.
Jared shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not picky.” He watched her look him over. She was cute, in that bitch on wheels, kind of way. She reminded him of someone. It wasn’t the blue eyes or long blond hair. There was something in the soft features of her face that he recognized, but couldn’t place.
Smirking, she shoved her hands into her back pockets. “Whatever, it is then. Is there a Mrs. Whatever?” Tilting her head to the side, she watched his face. She’d bet he was drop dead when he smiled.
“Nope. There is no Mrs. Whatever. As it stands, I seem to drive the females away. Why?” He eyeballed her, trying to decide what her game was.
Arching a brow, she took a step closer, tilting her head way the fuck back to look up into his face. “Because I don’t play in anyone else’s sandbox.” And he was a sandbox she could spend days playing in, but she kept that to herself. One side of her mouth quirked up, at his reaction. Her being forward had a tendency to have males running for the hills like their asses were on fire. Just the way she liked it. Might as well throw it out there and see what he was made of. “So now I know.”
Jared laughed at her. “Well, it’s good to know you only shit in one litter box. I am the same way, myself.”
Tilting her head, she studied him, not sure why he wasn’t running, but not complaining, because damn, what a view. “Good to know. I like you, Whatever.” Serra was torn. Should she keep pushing or let it rest? Sighing, she decided that she didn’t want to scare this one off. Not yet. “You and me, we should get together sometime. I’ll buy you a drink.” She stepped back out of his personal space before her panther clawed its way out to get to his. What the hell?
“Well, I’m honored. Drink, huh?” Thinking for a moment, he looked at her. “Why would you wanna buy me a drink? You don’t even know me. I could be a psycho.”
Leaning forward, she sniffed him with a mischievous smile and tried not to groan. “You don’t smell psycho.” Rocking back on her heels, she bit her bottom lip. So many answers as to why she’d want to buy him a drink fired through her head that she almost laughed. Finally, she lifted her eyes to his and shrugged, accepting the truth. “Maybe I want to get you drunk and take advantage of you. Is that so wrong?”
“Well hell, if you wanna fuck let’s just do it. No booze needed.” He said, knowing most of the time that sent them packing with or without his face getting slapped. And after what happened the last time his dick got hard, Jared wasn’t ready to deal with playing that game.
Serra forced herself not to smirk because she was having fun with the Panther. She didn’t want it to end. Shrugging, she picked a piece of lint from his shirt. “I haven’t decided yet. That’s why I offered to buy the drink. Let me know.” Turning, she started to walk away letting the smile spread across her face when he couldn’t see it.
Shaking his head, Jared watched her ass as she went. “Hey, Smart Ass. I need a number or do I just dial 911?” He yelled after her.
Pulling open the door to a blast of noise from inside the bar, Serra turned to rake her eyes over him one more time. Yeah, he was hot as hell. “You’re Panther. I’m sure you can find me if you want to.” Smirking, she stepped inside.
A few comments about her scent came to mind, but he didn’t say them and kept his eyes on the door as she went inside. Anyone that looked like she did, with that attitude, was nothing but trouble. He chuckled.
Daniel pushed the door to The Pit open. He was in no mood to deal with anyone’s bullshit. His morning classes had been nothing but pure hell. He wished there was some way he could just go back to bed and not have to deal with anything. As he went to clock in, the scent of Jared hit him. A slow growl started in his chest. “Course the old man is working, that just puts the ch
erry on top of this shit cake of a day.”
Putting his time card in the holder, Daniel tried to decide where he should hide. In the back room breaking down boxes or in the kitchen washing dishes. Some place that the Fuck wouldn’t find him. As he turned to leave, there Jared stood.
Looking at his father was like looking at an older, mirrored version of himself. Though the old man’s face was marred with a few scars and his was covered in tattoos. In reality, Jared was a scary kind of creature. His Uncle had tried to tell him stories about Jared to show him the kind of person he was, but Daniel knew the real story. He was a cowardly piece of shit. He’d abandoned his son and left him to be tortured, by that walking fuck factory that was his mother. And to top it off, Jared had killed people. Humans even. That’s why he’d been away. What a waste of space.
“We’re supposed to work the door together,” Jared said staring down at him.
Daniel was only a few inches shorter than his father, but sometimes when he looked at him like that, he felt like he was still a small cub. “Fine,” Daniel said pushing past him throwing his shoulder into Jared as he passed by.
Jared sighed to himself as Daniel looked at him like he was a pile of shit that he couldn’t wait to set on fire then stomp out with a shovel. Relaying the duties for their shift, he knew that his son would be less than impressed with everything. When Daniel shoulder checked him, he was aware that it would be a long night. Jared followed his son to the door and wondered if he should ask for something else for the evening, but The Violent Offenders were playing. That meant this place was going to be packed to the gills with bodies and they’d need all hands on deck.
He watched Daniel take his post on the left side of the door with his arms crossed and a look of death to all, on his face. Jared passed by and headed outside to stand. He leaned his head back against the building, wondering why he stayed here. He should just leave and let the cub have some peace, but he’d promised Brian that he’d stick around. And his parents would have a fit and a half he just took off. He thought about joining them in Ireland, but he knew that wouldn’t fix things with his son.
‘Bro. Heads up.’ Brian’s voice filled Jared’s head. Jared looked up to see a large black van pull up and stop in front of him. The doors to the back of the van swung open, and Brian climbed out along with the rest of his band mates.
“Don’t just stand there like a Dipshit. Give us a hand,” Brian said taking out a mic stand.
Jared eyed him for a moment. “I ain’t one of your roadies,” He growled, ignoring his brother.
Brian put the top of the mic stand in Jared’s groin. “Brother, you couldn’t be that lucky, but maybe if you help us, I’ll throw you a girl later,” Brian said poking his brother’s thigh.
Jared shook his head. “Sure, I want your leftovers. I can get my own females, thank you.” He smirked thinking of the female that had all but thrown herself at him in the alley last night. His eyes closed as her scent and those blue eyes filled his mind.
Jose, one of Brian’s bandmates, snorted. “Right, you’ve slept with how many since you’ve been back?”
Jared gave him the finger.
“Do you have problems with your parts?” Jose asked slinging a guitar case over his shoulder.
Jared gave him a look and knocked away the mic stand, going to help unload the van. “You play here every fucking weekend. Wouldn’t it make more sense to leave your shit here?”
Brian smirked and started inside, seeing Daniel standing there looking like he was trying to set the world on fire with his mind. “Help an old man out,” Brian said putting down the mic stands in front of the cub. Daniel gave him the same look his father had a moment before. Brian had to hold back his laughter. They were so much alike that it was scary, and Daniel hated being reminded of it.
It only took twenty minutes for everything to get unloaded and arranged on the stage. Brian started hooking up the equipment when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Never a good thing, he thought to himself, he tried to push it out of his mind, but something was coming and he wasn’t sure what it was. He’d always had a sixth sense about impending doom. It wasn’t always right, but most of the time it was. He turned his eyes to the crowd of people that had started pouring in. He spotted Zander Landon and his bunch of dirt bags. They must be what was triggering his Spidey sense.
Jared checked ID’s at the door as the people started pouring in. A small crowd walked down the street toward him. As they got closer, he noticed that their scent was odd, it wasn’t human or shifter. He was still trying to place it when they stopped and handed over their IDs to be checked and walked past him one by one as he handed them back. As they passed, a strange feeling went through him. It was like he knew them from someplace, but couldn’t place it. Shaking his head, he focused on his job.
Time seemed to pass slowly. As the band started, Jared listened from the outside. He checked his watch, and it was about time for him to take his first break. Heading inside, he saw Daniel in the middle of the crowd of the odd newcomers. Daniel’s face was mottled with rage. Arching a curious brow, Jared made his way over to see what was going on.
Before he could get there, one of the odd creatures took ahold of his son and threw him into a booth. Glasses and other things hit the floor as all hell broke loose. Jared grabbed the closest male and pulled him back by the neck of his jacket. That’s when it hit him that they were demons, he let out a snarl. “Leave my son alone,” he snapped, throwing the beast like a Frisbee into the others.
Daniel got to his feet and watched his father take out the crowd of dick bags. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Not that he had time to think. One of them sucker punched him. His head jerked to the left. He felt some of his teeth pop loose, or it felt like they did. He spun, snarling, and launched himself at the asshole, taking him to the ground. Daniel choked him and slammed his head off the floor until he was sure the dude saw stars. He looked up to see his Uncle jump from the stage, guitar in his hands and choked up on the neck like he was holding a bat. The look on his face was one Daniel had never seen on his Uncle Brian before.
Swinging his guitar, Brian upper cut one of the assholes so hard that when his head rocked back, you could hear his neck start to give out. Brian growled and went for another, trying to help Jared. Daniel had never understood how those two became family until that moment. Watching his father and uncle cut a path to him, throwing people left and right until they both stopped in front of him with anger and worry on their faces, they worked as a single unit.
“You okay?” Brian asked looking down at the dude Daniel had choked out.
Jared couldn’t think about anything other making sure Daniel was safe once he and Brian got to him. Before his son could answer his uncle, Jared took hold of Daniel’s arm and hauled him to his feet, checking him over and making sure he was okay. Jared could smell blood. He put his hands on his son’s face and pried his mouth open with his fingers.
Daniel growled at him.
“Hold still goddamn it. I need to see if you’re okay,” Jared said as Daniel tried to shove him away.
“Let go, damn it. Get off me!” Daniel snarled.
Jared ignored him and got his mouth open hoping the cub didn’t bite him. He saw some of his son’s teeth were loose. “You need to go to the doctor.”
Daniel yanked is head away. “Fine! Just get off me.”
Jared moved back, letting his hands drop with a defeated sigh.
After that day, Daniel looked at his father differently. He decided to give the guy a chance after having a long talk with Brian. Daniel learned that Jared was the one paying for his school and most all his bills. Daniel always thought it was some trust his mother had set up for him. He hadn’t known that Jared was putting money aside for him. Even while he was in prison, any money he made went to Brian for Daniel. The same was true when he got out, most of his money went to his son. Slowly, but surely they started to rebuild their relationship.
Laying in
her new bed, Serra growled and rolled onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep. Blowing the hair out of her face, she watched the shadows dance over the walls as her mind replayed everything that had happened and listened to Pop’s incessant demands that she come home and tell him where she’d been. Sighing she finally caved. ‘Give me a couple of days,’ she mindlinked her father. ‘Then visit me. Okay?’ She took it as a yes when his voice in her head fell silent.
This week had been a busy one. Serra had closed on the house, a model home, surrounded by empty copies, which came furnished. Maybe it wasn’t her style, but she had a place to sit, and that was good. Rolling her head, she looked at the backpack that held all of the personal items that she’d collected since being exiled from the Mountain. It was pathetic. Especially when compared to how she’d grown up. She’d never wanted for anything. It was ironic that she’d discovered just how little she needed to survive when she was at the lowest point of her life.
The house was wired to the extreme. If a squirrel farted in the yard, the people back at the Alpha Pride HQ would be alerted. Rycker, the dark haired, blue eyed snow leopard, had installed the security system before the ink was dry on the contract. Serra rolled her eyes. He’d made a move on her when showing her how to work it all, dropping his hand to the small of her back and caressing as he explained the keypad. Hell, he’d even invited her to dinner. Rycker was attractive enough, but she had declined and shrugged away from his touch. Serra just couldn’t stand the idea of letting him put his hands on her and what the male hoped it would lead to, made her want to vomit.
Jared’s face painted itself across her vision. Sighing, she rubbed her face. Why was it so different with the Panther from the bar last night? Grabbing a pillow, she fluffed it and shoved it under her head. Those piercing hazel eyes and that scent. Gods, she wanted to roll in his scent until it covered every inch of her skin. Serra bit her lip and groaned. Her brow creased as she tried to figure out what it was about this one male that got her hot and bothered and imagining him naked, when every other male, even looking at her, made her want to blow chunks.
The Mating (Black on Black, #1) Page 6