by Rose, Renee
The way some of the pack eyes Sheridan, they haven’t forgotten the part she played in betraying us. Under the weight of the pack’s stare, Sheridan wilts a little. She was one of us, before she turned traitor. “About tonight...I was just trying to help.”
“Help who?” His voice is whip sharp.
Even though I agree with Garrett, my wolf bristles at the way he’s speaking to her. My chest puffs out on its own, shoulders square. Garrett glances at me and takes in my shift of posture.
“Help you.” The waver in Sheridan’s voice bothers me far more than it should. I step closer to her, make it known I’m still her protector, even after the way things went down.
Garrett shrugs. “I know you have to follow your alpha’s orders. Maybe you can be useful to both of us.” His voice turns thoughtful, and I don’t like the look in my alpha’s eye. “What was it you said about the drugs the vampires are dealing? Sugar blood?”
“I only have rumors your dad told me about. Bodies have been turning up around the seedier parts of Phoenix. Drug addicts who OD’d on bad product—that’s what the humans think. Whatever drug it is, it makes the victim’s blood toxic. Too much and they die.”
“That’s not enough to get my dad involved,” Garrett rumbles. “He’s not interested in a human war on drugs.”
“No,” Sheridan agrees. “The reason Alpha Green is worried is because the bodies have been tampered with. Fang marks. Signs of use...by vampires.”
Everyone in the pack sucks in a breath.
“You think Frangelico is behind this?” Tank asks, his eyes narrowed as he puts two and two together. “His vampires are feeding too much, too often, and dumping the bodies, making it look like a drug overdose?”
“That’s correct.” Sheridan nods. “That’s why I came here. We’re listening closely to the human authorities to make sure we catch these deaths early. In case we have to intervene.”
“Intervene,” Tank repeats. “You mean cover up.”
Sheridan raises her chin. “If we have to. The more suspicious the deaths, the more the humans will go poking around into the existence of paranormals.”
“Dangerous for all of us,” Garrett says. “So that’s why you’re looking into Fight Club?”
“No.” Sheridan’s voice is dry. “Fight Club is a problem in and of itself. It’s all over the human police and FBI channels. Alpha Green isn’t happy about that, at all. The club seemed a good place for me to start investigating. Then I met the leech and realized the vampire drug trade and the club might be intertwined.”
“We’re clean,” I put in. “I don’t allow trade on premises.”
“You know as well as I there’s no way of monitoring that, not one hundred percent,” Garrett says. “And even if you do catch one vampire at it, you can’t do more than kick him out. You’d have to bring him to Lucius for discipline, or risk offending the nest.”
I grit my teeth because it’s true.
“If it helps,” Sheridan pipes up, “I think the vampires aren’t messing around with shifters. Just humans they can lure in as victims. I think the club might be cleaner than one run by humans.”
Tension in my gut loosens at Sheridan’s defense of the fight club, and not just because I want to save my club. Having her speak up on my behalf means something to me. Too damn much. I need to cut this cord that binds us so tightly, even after all these years.
“One more thing,” Sheridan adds. “I’m here to investigate, and keep my pack safe, but I don’t want to cover up the deaths. I know we have to hide evidence of paranormal tampering on any bodies we find, but I’m not here to do the vampires’ dirty work. I’m here to stop them.”
My stomach plummets. Sheridan’s got that look in her eye, the one that says she’s planted her flag and will stand by it at all costs. I know that look. The last time, I was the one she chose to stand by. It cost me everything to get her to change her mind. We barely survived the fallout.
“How much have you learned so far?” Garrett asks.
“Not a thing. That’s why I want to visit the vampires’ club. Go straight to the source.”
Garrett and Tank exchange glances. The big guy, second in the pack, nods at our alpha.
“All right.” Garrett turns to Sheridan. “You’ll go to the club.”
“No.” I swear to the fates, I’m ready to shift and fight right there. The thought of Sheridan toddling in there unprotected? I would burn the place down first.
“I can do it. I’ll be all right,” Sheridan says quickly.
Garrett points at me. “You’ll go with her,” he commands.
“No.” It’s Sheridan’s turn to disagree.
“Yes,” Garrett commands. I can’t be sure, but I think a smile glimmers on Garrett’s lips for a moment before disappearing. “I can’t send you alone, Cuz. But Trey will be great back up. The vampires will know you’re under both mine and Wolf Ridge’s protection, and they’ll think twice before messing with you.”
“Fine.” Sheridan nods.
“Fuck, no,” I bite out.
Garrett turns to me. “Make sure no one lays a hand on her.”
I groan again.
“And you”—Garrett rounds on Sheridan, and for the first time raises an eyebrow at her scandalous attire—“I know you’re not my wolf, but this is my territory, and I’m responsible for you. Next time you plan on barging into a vampire meeting, you give me some fucking warning.” His voice holds all the weight of his command.
“I will.” Sheridan ducks her head. If she was in wolf form, she might put her tail between her legs. I’d be surprised, except Sheridan always cowed to authority, and Garrett has it in spades now that he’s his own alpha.
“I know you can defend yourself pretty well, but do me a favor and stay close to Trey. I know you’ll be tempted to give him a hard time—”
“Who, me?” She blinks innocently. I scowl.
“—But don’t. It’s dangerous enough going into the vampires’ lair, backup or no backup,” he lectures. “You both need to stick together and present a united front.”
“Of course,” Sheridan says, just as I mutter, “This is a mistake.”
“You think I should send someone else?” Garrett asks. His tone is sharp, but I know he’s really asking.
“No.” I kick a rock with my boot with enough precision to send it rocketing into the air. “You’re right.”
There’s no chance in hell I’d let her go with anyone else. I would go apeshit if I couldn’t be beside her to protect her.
Besides, he and Tank are too high up in the pack to go to the club. Putting them in the vampires’ clutches could invite assassination or kidnapping. We just declared peace, but it’s best not to tempt the vampires too closely. An attack on a pack alpha or his second could mean war.
Jared might do it, if I asked, but he just took a mate. I’m single, expendable. And if I lose it and kick the shit outta a leech, the pack can write it off easier. Blame my bad temper, slap me on the wrist. As long as I beat up on a lesser leech, and don’t go after Lucius himself.
“I’ll do it,” I tell my alpha.
Sheridan waits until Garrett looks away to flick a brow at me. Wearing a sexy club get up instead of a stuck up suit really brings out the sass in her.
I gotta get her out of that outfit.
But not back into the suit.
Naked.
Fuck. No. Not that.
I’m staring at Sheridan. Her eyes widen as if she knows what I’m thinking, but she glares back with a shake of her head and makes another face.
Garrett catches her at it and frowns. “Behave.”
“Of course.” She smiles like a naughty angel. “Don’t I always?”
* * *
Trey
“How’d you know we’d be here, anyway?” I ask Sheridan as I drop her off by her car in Fight Club’s lot. After a few questions, Garrett and I discovered she didn’t have her car, having walked. We took turns chewing her ear off before Garrett
told me to give her a ride.
Which is how I ended up riding my bike back with Sheridan’s arms around my waist and her soft body pressed into my back, fangs descending in my mouth and my dick ready to split the front of my jeans.
Lucky me.
“Sheridan?” I ask again, getting in her face so she can’t dodge my question. “How did you know we were meeting the leeches in the wash?”
The way she hesitates before answering, I know I’m not going to like the answer.
“Nero,” she admits. “It was the leech, Nero.”
My curse echoes around the lot.
“Trey, I can handle it.”
“Yeah? Why would he invite you to something like this?”
She nibbles her lip. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck, he’s into you.”
“You don’t know that,” she says quickly. “He probably just wanted to throw the Phoenix pack into the mix. Stir up trouble.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.” She glares at me like I’m the problem. “Why do leeches do anything?”
I curse some more, and kick gravel, wishing it was Nero’s head. Or Lucius’. Don’t care that touching the vampire king would start a war. If he messes with Sheridan, killing him would be worth it. “I don’t like it.”
Sheridan rolls her eyes. “I’m not crazy about him hanging around me either. Next time he touches me, I’ll throw him into the bar.” She rubs her wrist and my vision narrows, my wolf so close fur crackles along my forearm.
“Did he touch you? Fuck, Sheridan, these guys are dangerous—”
“You think I don’t know that?” She gets back in my face, gesturing towards the building. “You’re the one who lets them in. This place is crawling with them!”
“This area is no man’s land. We’re not on pack territory; otherwise Garrett would have to police us. This way we welcome everybody, but that means leeches and shifters are free to roam. I don’t like it, but it’s the way it’s gotta be.”
“And what do you get out of this?” She shifts closer, studying my face as if she really wants to know. “This place is a dump.”
I step back, shutting down. “I guess that’s where lowlifes like me belong.” I don’t think Sheridan really thinks that of me—at least she didn’t when we were kids. But I’m parroting her dad, who never wanted me hanging around her.
“I didn’t say that. I know you like to fight but…” She stops. “But this place, with the scary bouncer and leeches lurking in the corner, and the drunks. It’s almost like you have a death wish.”
“I’m not talking about it. It’s none of your business. Besides, you can talk, accepting invites from vampires. What if he’d planned to get you alone and corner you?”
“I can take care of myself, Robson.” Her lip curls. “You’re not the only one who can fight.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes, but only barely. Yes, she’s a strong alpha female, but she’s not invincible. There are dangers out there that go far beyond attending college out of state or running numbers for a brewery.
“Want me to prove it?”
I don’t attempt to hide my exasperation. “No, Sheridan. I want you to stay out of fucking danger.”
“You and me, in the ring,” she challenges me.
Oh for fuck’s sake. I hold up my hands. “Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to get defensive.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “This isn’t defensive. This is me gearing up to kick your ass. Name the time and I’ll come down here and get in the ring with you.”
“Okay, okay, you can take care of yourself,” I concede.
“Name the time, Robson.” Her voice gets flinty. “I thought you loved sparring.”
I stare at her for a long moment. I’d like to pretend I’m not imagining the two of us sliding around in a jello-pit, or mud-wrestling naked, but my dick thickens against my zipper. “Okay, fine. Tomorrow. Noon.”
Her expression sears me like acid. “Get ready, Robson. Your ass is grass.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I shoot back, and snarl at my own lame comeback.
“Tomorrow then.”
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
“No, thanks. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” She tosses her hair and shrugs out of my jacket. “Here.” Orange and vanilla wafts up from the leather, mingling with my scent. It smells good. Right. Meant to be.
We stare at each other over the piece of clothing, twelve years yawning between us. There’s plenty of hurt and pain, but beneath the memories of how we hurt each other is more, so much more.
“Keep it,” I tell her hoarsely. I like knowing she has something that belongs to me. Not much, but it’s something.
She clutches the jacket to her chest and gives a curt nod. Something in me cracks a little, as if I’m relieved she didn’t throw my gift back in my face. Fates, I’m still in deep with this woman.
I watch her strut to her car, hips twitching invitingly, and clench my hands into fists. I don’t know what I want to do more: strangle her or fuck her. Probably both. Yeah, that’d be good.
I hold my breath until the taillights of her car disappear. When I finally blow it out, I feel winded, like I’ve run for miles. Like I’ve been punched in the guts.
Sheridan Green. Fuck me. Fucking fuck me.
Chapter Six
Twelve Years Ago
Sheridan
I head up the walk to my house, my lips curved with a secret smile. After school time used to be reserved for homework and studying the cramped pages of my text books until my vision blurred. Trey changed all that.
I take the steps two at a time, feeling loose and supple and full of light. My body sings the song of a well-satisfied woman. I blush just thinking that. A woman, not a girl. Trey makes me feel alive.
My high lasts as long as it takes to turn the knob of the front door. As soon as I open it, my mom pops in front of me.
“Sheridan!” she cries. My dad looms behind her.
The smile falls from my lips. Fates, do they know where I’ve been?
“Mom? Dad?” I search their faces.
“So, when were you going to tell us?” my mom demands, and for a moment I’m about to pass out.
“About what?” I whisper, feeling sick. How did they find out about Trey? Did someone tell them?
A bright smile stretches my mom’s mouth and I blink. There’s no way she’d be smiling if she knew what I was doing after school with Trey.
“About Stanford, silly girl. Mrs. Stefani, the school counselor, called today to brag on you. Wolf Ridge is proud to graduate an Ivy league-bound senior!”
The nervous quiver I’ve had in my belly ever since Trey found the letter grows wilder, like a litter of eels circling around. “Well, I’m not sure about going.”
My dad’s smile flips to frown. “What are you talking about?”
“California’s not that far away, honey,” my mom says.
I fidget with the zipper on my backpack.
My dad’s eyes narrow. “Is this about that Robson boy?”
My stomach sinks. “No,” I lie.
Both my parents hear the untruth in my voice.
“Your future is way more important than a silly high school romance,” my mom says.
“You’re going,” my dad insists. There’s ice cold promise in his words, like he’ll personally deliver me to school kicking and screaming if I refuse.
I try to appear unshaken, like this is still my decision, which it should be. I toss a casual shrug. “I sent in my acceptance but I’m still making up my mind.” I attempt to infuse just enough brazenness in my words to sound like I’m my own woman, and turn on my heel to head to my bedroom.
“Do not walk away when we’re talking to you.” And just like that, the conversation one-eighties from we’re proud of you to you’re in deep shit, young lady.
For the first time in my life, I consider running away. It’s a rash and irrational thought,
but it pops into my head immediately, like it’s the only solution. I’m eighteen now—they shouldn’t be running my life like this. Would Trey come with me if I did?
I stop and turn, teeth grinding. “What?” Yeah, I can play bitchy teen to a T.
“You’re going to Stanford,” my dad says. “There’s nothing to decide.”
I want to argue and fight, but my dad’s pulling an alpha and I know there’d be no winning. Maybe that’s why my brain produced running away as my only other option.
Tears of defeat pop into my eyes, but I don’t let him see them, instead I whirl and run for my room, slamming the door like I’m thirteen again.
* * *
Present
I’m back at Fight Club at a quarter to noon. Daylight doesn’t do this place any favors, but I can’t help calculating the cost of pavement, new paint inside, maybe some bleachers around the cage…this place could be legit. Of course, I’d want to kick out the vampires, or maybe just make them sign something restricting their activity. Part of the thrill of this place is the danger; I wouldn’t want to take that away completely.
My thoughts are swirling around waiver forms and liquor licenses and costs of regular powerwashing when my eyes land on Trey’s tall form. He stands in a pool of light, dust motes dancing around his powerful body. His tattoos really aren’t bad. Works of art, really. I want to peel off his clothes and make him tell me the stories of how, when and why he got them. Except that would mean he was naked.
No! Down girl. Bad idea.
“You ready for this?” he calls and I trot over to him. I’m wearing yoga pants and a loose top, my typical gym wear.
His forehead creases as he reads the words on my shirt. “You only do buttstuff at the gym?”
I grin. “I got this shirt from Etsy.”
“Do you even know what buttstuff is?”
I stick my chin out, wishing my cheeks wouldn’t color. “Yes. And I stand by my t-shirt’s assertion. At least, for now.” I bite the inside of my cheek after I add that last part. Trey’s bemused expression changes to starved animal staring down its prey.