by Knox, Abby
Running With The Pack
Big Easy Shifters: Book Four
Abby Knox
Copyright © 2021 by Abby Knox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
First edition published 2018
Edited by Aquila Editing
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Abby Knox
Prologue
The dirty yellow Labrador Retriever, Sam, pawed the tattoo parlor's back door and whined urgently.
Just an hour before, Sam had been minding his own business, hungrily exploring the New Orleans back alleys for food scraps. The city was lousy with shifters who tolerated normal dogs on their monthly scavenger hunts. The wolf-shifters seemed to have moved their feeding frenzy out of the city within the last few months, though. None of the regular stray dogs knew why this change had occurred. They only knew that their larger, scarier companions were now scarce and less available to use for cover. Animal control was catching more of them now that the wolves had moved on to other sources of food.
Although highly food motivated, Sam also simply liked the wolf shifters. The ones called Bobby and Pen were his favorite. Ever since he was a pup, Sam enjoyed watching the two of them race each other. The two of them were playful in wolf form and kind to him in human form. Sam liked Gavin, too. And Ash, and Vann. Gavin always waited at the back of the pack for anyone lagging behind. He may not have been the leader, but he was the most protective, no matter anyone’s bloodline.
But, as Sam grew to adulthood, he found himself enjoying the street life less and less. Maybe spending so much time following behind half-wolf, half-humans had some kind of domesticating effect on Sam. Maybe he saw how the wolf shifters lived in warm houses and drove in cars and wanted that for himself. His greatest wish was to go and live with Bobby and Pen. He often wondered if they knew, as he did, that they were fated to be together.
If they could go ahead and make that happen sooner rather than later, Sam would appreciate it. He would love to ride in Bobby’s car with his head out the window. Whenever he was around either of them, he sensed unsettled energy around them. Why did humans—even half-humans—delay the demands of their instincts? He would have thought a man possessing half a canine inside him would be more driven toward affection and family. But it was not the case with Bobby. Darkness hovered over Bobby that regular old dogs didn’t understand.
Sam picked up a lot of things when it came to scents. Fated mates, anger, illness, love. What he sensed at this moment, as he pawed the back door of the shifter named Gavin’s tattoo parlor that night was something far worse than anger or hunger. Fear.
Gavin was in there, and he was in trouble. Another species—probably feline—also was there, also in fear. The scent that alarmed Sam the most was Manny’s. One of Gavin’s tattoo artists, Manny, scared Sam.
Sam pawed at the heavy steel door, but it was shut tight. He quieted down his whining and listened.
The shifters inside the building were bound by magic, a very dark sort of magic, and they couldn’t move. Even if Sam could turn the knob and open the door, he would be no help to the magical beast against an evil spell.
Sam listened, sniffed, and understood. Gavin and his companion needed help; Sam had to go and find Bobby. The dog turned, lifted his snout into the air, and waited for Bobby’s scent to guide him.
That’s the thing about shifters. Normal humans have potent scents. Shifters leave an imprint everywhere they go, like a homing beacon.
Sam finally hit on the information that he needed; the scent in the air told him where to go to find Bobby. Sprinting down to the riverside as fast as he could go, Sam picked up everyone’s scents: Bobby, Pen, Vann, all of those in the pack.
So why wasn’t Gavin with his pack tonight? Doesn’t matter. None of his business. He just needed Bobby. Bobby would know what to do.
Chapter One
Pen
The kidnapping of Lionel DuChamp might have been the most thrilling escapade in Pen’s young life. And that was saying a lot for a wolf shifter.
She might have looked like a good girl to everyone who knew Pen as one of the brightest up-and-coming interior designers and businesswomen of New Orleans. Still, Pen had a secret that none of her clients knew. She was perhaps the most loyal and fiercest of her pack of cursed half-wolves.
As such, when the happiness of the pack was threatened, Pen would do anything. Including storming a Garden District mansion in broad daylight.
Shifting into her complete wolf form, Pen burst through the locked doors of Lionel’s study. The father of the bride had thought he could hole up for the duration of his daughter Rosemary’s wedding day. Lionel’s clan was made up of panther shifters. He was none too keen on his only daughter marrying Ashton Boudreaux, a wolf shifter and son of Lionel’s most hated business rival, Jimmy Boudreaux. Lionel was from old money; Jimmy made his fortune slinging his special recipe chicken. From what Pen understood, Jimmy had turned down Lionel’s repeated attempts to buy the chicken franchise and that history had always eaten away at Lionel. However, the more Pen’s friendship grew with the bride, Rosemary, the more she wondered if there was more to the story of that strange business rivalry.
But solving the riddle of that rivalry meant nothing to Pen on the day of the wedding. As maid of honor to her newest friend, Pen saw it as her duty to make sure Rosemary got her one wish on her wedding day: her father walking her down the aisle.
By god, the wolf pack was going to make sure that happened. All of the wolves—Pen, Bobby, Gavin, Vann, and Ash, the groom himself—were going to make sure of it.
Pen busted down the study doors through brute supernatural force and managed to startle Lionel just long enough for Vann to grab him and for Gavin to knock him out with a magical inhalant. Ash, being the groom, had other matters to attend to that morning. Still, he had procured the magical elements needed to subdue the pugnacious patriarch.
Even passed out, it took all four pack members to stuff the old man into the back seat of Pen’s SUV.
The group arrived at the riverboat venue looking like a car full of clowns in formalwear. Pen left it up to the menfolk to trundle a woozy, compliant Lionel dressed for the long walk down the aisle. Pen then went to work burning the crystals that would further work their soothing magic over the bride's ferocious father. Once all was going according to plan, Pen watched the slightly confused but docile Lionel look at his only daughter in her wedding gown. From there, Rosemary had everything under control.
Watching Lionel gaze at Rosemary the way a father should gaze at his daughter on her wedding day, Pen knew that day’s caper had all been worth i
t. Sooner or later, Lionel would sober up. Still, hopefully, by that time, Ash and Rosemary would be married, and the reception would be in full swing. Everyone involved had hopes he would have seen the error in his extreme stubbornness by then. Who can hold a grudge in the face of the happiest couple ever?
Was this solution to Ash and Rosemary’s problem tacky and inelegant? Maybe. Brutish and illegal? Definitely. Pen didn’t care. Her pack took precedent, and Ash’s happiness depended on keeping Rosemary happy.
Pen and her lifelong friends would do anything for the good of the pack, including high crimes and frequent pretty misdemeanors.
While the ceremony took place, Pen glanced around and realized something. Almost everyone in the pack had paired off with a panther shifter—all except for her and Bobby. Case in point: The long-haired, bearded and tattooed Gavin was possessively staring at Rosemary’s cousin Chastity. Those two had apparently fallen into each other’s arms while black-out drunk the night of the bachelor and bachelorette parties. The second exhibit was the team of Vann and GiGi. Vann was making puppy dog eyes at GiGi while Ash and Rosemary exchanged their vows. Just a few months ago, the two of them had been introduced at Ash and Rosemary’s rooftop engagement party and had been together almost ever since.
As for Pen? She had no eyes for anybody—never had, never would have—but Bobby Jordan. Her best friend. He was her closest confidant, yet he never knew her darkest secret: she loved him more than anything.
But Bobby? Bobby was clueless. Always was, maybe he always would be. At the moment, though, he was sending clear signals to Pen that he was interested. More than interested. Obsessed. His wolfish eyes had not peeled themselves away from Pen or her dress since he’d first walked arm in arm with her preceding Rosemary and her father.
When the officiant arrived at the part where she asked the assembled guests if any of them had any reason why these two shouldn’t be married, there was one interruption. Lionel rose to his feet. Pen turned to watch him, and held her breath. She readied herself in case she needed to tackle him.
But there was no need for any more tackling or subduing. His words were slightly slurred as his psyche emerged from the magical spell. “I just wanted to say, ‘I will remember you. Will you remember me? Don’t let your life pass you by. Weep not for the memories.’” And with that, he gestured for the officiant to carry on. He sat back down in his seat, the mother of the bride looking relieved he hadn’t said something offensive.
Someone could have knocked Pen over with a feather. Did the scariest man in New Orleans, maybe the entire southern United States, just stand up and quote Sarah McLachlan at his daughter’s wedding? Pen’s eyes swept over the room and assessed everyone’s reactions. Some clueless older folks were misty-eyed. Others were glancing around wondering what the hell had just happened. The rest of the guests who had evidently recognized the passage? They were red faced, biting their lips, covering their eyes and mouths. No doubt half of that crowd fought back an explosive case of the giggles. The energy in the room was that of someone farting loudly in church.
Following that strange little interlude, the officiant smiled politely and soldiered on.
And, Bobby resumed staring at Pen. He appeared so fixated, Pen felt herself worry he might wolf out in front of all the guests. She tried to communicate with her eyes that if he did wolf out in the middle of this wedding, Rosemary would kill him dead.
Bobby watched her so closely, he was almost derelict in his best man duties. When Ash turned with his hand out, waiting for Bobby to hand him the rings, Bobby’s attention was on Pen and only Pen.
Her heart hammered in her throat, and her lungs felt like they were on fire with panic and embarrassment. Wedding guessed tittered at the absent-minded Bobby.
Pen widened her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the groom. Bobby finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered what he was supposed to do at that moment.
Other than that minor flub—and Lionel’s odd-but-heartwarming interruption—the ceremony carried on without a hitch. The only hitch that remained was the one in Pen’s wavering breath. Bobby’s gaze had left her deprived of oxygen and confused. She stared straight at Rosemary for the remainder of the ceremony, like a dutiful maid of honor. She pretended not to feel the heat of Bobby’s gaze against the bare skin of her neck and shoulders.
The romantic atmosphere—and probably some residual magical voodoo smoke in the air—made Pen feel lightheaded, hopeful, and strangely amorous. Maybe tonight, Bobby would finally kiss her.
Chapter Two
Bobby
Best man Bobby Jordan quietly growled as he scanned the dance floor. Taking in the sight of all of the happy couples having a blast at Ashton and Rosemary Boudreaux’s wedding, Bobby was a mixed bag of emotions. He was happy for his best friend, Ash. Still, at the same time, Bobby would rather take a sharp stick to the eye than suffer another minute of this over-the-top, no-expenses-spared riverboat wedding.
In Bobby’s peripheral vision, someone hovered, holding something out to him. He could smell it before he could see it. Wedding cake. He turned and shook his head. “No, thank you.”
Pen’s voice sliced through his consciousness like a hot knife through butter. “Come on now, eat some of GiGi’s cake, you enormous party pooper.”
He turned some more and saw her standing there, her ghostly silver gown billowing around her in an explosion of luxe silk, satin, and lace. Bobby usually hated the hoop-skirt look. Although his hometown was progressive in many ways, this was still the South. Everyone at some point in their lives was subjected to cotillions, coming-out parties, balls, or historical re-enactments in which white women would dress in antebellum monstrosities and pipe-curl their hair to live out their Scarlett O’Hara dreams. Most of that nonsense had made Bobby sick to his stomach. The dress that Pen wore tonight as a bridesmaid was not that. She looked like a silver goddess from another place and time altogether. Not a princess but a queen. If Rosemary hadn’t picked out the looks for her bridesmaids herself, Bobby might accuse Pen of trying to show up the bride. That would never be the case with Pen. Pen was a queen of taste and decorum, not to mention fiercely loyal to her friends, old and new, wolf shifter, panther shifter, or Normal. Rosemary and her family were panther shifters. Normally, that would not be too much of a problem outside of their tight little wolf pack. Lionel DuChamp, however, had proven to be a handful about his shifter daughter marrying into a wolf clan. Pen had played a considerable part in making sure everybody behaved civilized at this wedding and would undoubtedly be a driving force behind continued shifter race relations.
“You look good, Pen.”
She smiled, took the plate of cake from the server, thanked him, and offered it to Bobby. Even though the scent of the little squares of rum coconut-scented sponge, slathered in GiGi’s gourmet lime zest buttercream, could tempt him, none of that temptation compared to Pen in that dress. Bobby teetered on the edge between claiming the woman he loved and ruining one of the most cherished friendships of his life. One could say Ash was his best friend, but Ash was a groom now. And none of Bobby’s friendships could be considered expendable. Pen would always maintain a special place in his heart.
She looked him up and down, and Bobby suddenly felt silly in the formalwear that Ash had dressed him in. How Bobby had secretly wished that Ash and Rosemary would have called off the old-fashioned reception and allowed Bobby to host a private party at his Wolfpack Tavern. A loud blues band and singing together all night long was more suited to their style.
“You look about ready to break some hearts yourself, big guy,” she said. If only she knew she was the one breaking his heart, just by existing and being so damn perfect.
Maybe the situation wasn’t so dire after all. Perhaps he could act on his feelings, and they would end up in a blissful happily ever after together. What was the worst that could happen if he finally decided to shoot his shot? She’d say no, and the vibe between them would be awkward for a wh
ile. Maybe for forever. Worst case scenario? Bobby would imprint on Pen, she could eventually reject him, and he would spend the rest of his life pining for her, watching her move on to someone else. And he would be bound to watch over her from a safe distance. If that happened, he would have to leave the pack.
“I look like a penguin, but thanks,” he chuckled, smoothing his lapel. He watched her gray eyes follow his hands. Those twin pools matched the misty mornings of summer. Tonight, under the party lights, Pen’s eyes were flecked with silver that echoed the silver of her ballgown. Her eyes were the purest and most honest of anyone he ever knew. Pen was incapable of hiding her true feelings; her beautiful eyes always gave her away. Bobby knew she would never forgive herself if she hurt him. If she didn’t share his feelings, and he bared his soul to her, she would carry that forever because that was just who she was. She felt deeply, loved fiercely, and empathized with everyone within her friendship bubble.
She took the piece of cake between her fingers and held it to his lips. “I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I’ll make an exception when it comes to you, and…” Bobby’s words trailed off as he bit into the moist cake, Pen’s eyes watching his mouth, a slight tint of pink flooding her cheeks. What he failed to say was, “when it comes to you in that dress and all of that delicious skin exposed to the night.” Some kind of industrial undergarment had lifted her breasts in such a way that no dessert could compare. He would much rather be savoring and tasting her body, ripping off that dress, bending her over, and taking her to such wild lengths that they both wolfed out in their mutual ecstasy.