Raising her hand, she rubbed it over her breastbone. Maybe it was loneliness she was feeling at night as she lay in her bed. God only knows, she’d felt like a freak growing up. While other girls her age had been boy crazy, all she’d wanted to do was tinker in the garage with her father. She plain just wasn’t interested. She’d been kissed more than once, even engaged in some heavy petting in her teens, but she’d never had sex with a guy. It just hadn’t seemed worth the effort. Now, she wondered.
“You want to bring me a cup of that coffee?” Her father’s voice yanked her from her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She was never this distracted, at least not in front of her father. He was much too astute and attuned to her moods.
Yanking down two large black ceramic mugs from the shelf above the coffeemaker, she filled them with the thick, potent brew. Black for her father, two sugars for her. Wiping her moist palms on her jeans, she took a deep breath and picked up the mugs. She had to get a grip on herself. It was time to go to work.
She loved the garage. Loved working side by side with her father, repairing vehicles of all kinds—trucks, cars and the more popular, and certainly more affordable, motorcycles. Cars had changed quite a bit over the years, but her father could fix them all. The man was a wizard when it came to vintage cars and had gained a reputation among collectors. Since her father wouldn’t leave Chicago, wealthy clients came from all over the country to gain his expertise. Many brought their own private security team to protect their expensive vehicles.
Alex had questioned her father once about why they didn’t move somewhere else. Not that there was anything wrong with Chicago. She loved the vibrancy of the city, the unique ethnic heritage that made it so exciting. But Alex had always wondered what it would be like to live in the countryside where the constant noise of humanity was silent. The city never slept. Traffic, both vehicular and human, kept the streets alive twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
They had enough money, as her father’s specialized skills did not come cheap. “Because it’s safer here,” had been his soft-spoken reply. His answer hadn’t made much sense to her since they lived in arguably what many would consider a dangerous area, but the look in his eyes had been so bleak and sad, she’d never brought up the subject again. But she did wonder.
He’d passed all his mechanic skills onto her and she was quickly gaining a reputation of her own. She could easily have moved out of the neighborhood and set up her own vehicle-repair business, but instead she’d settled just up the road, continuing to work with her father. She didn’t want to leave him. He was the only family she had. Chicago might give the members of the city council and police force the occasional sleepless night, but to her it was home.
“What’s on tap for today?” She handed her father his coffee and took a sip of hers as she reached for her muffin.
“Not much. The Mustang.” He motioned to the vehicle that he’d been under when she’d arrived. “There’s two Ducatis you need to check out. I bought them from a guy and he delivered them last night. Just check the work orders.”
Motorcycles were Alex’s specialty. She loved the speed and the freedom they offered. Her eyes lit up as she gazed at the two beauties in the far corner, just waiting for her to work her magic. “Sweet.” She planned on convincing her father to give her a deal on one of these fine machines.
“Alexandra.”
She stilled. He rarely ever called her by her given name, always calling her Alex. When he did, it usually meant trouble.
“Yes.” She struggled not to squirm beneath his penetrating gaze.
“We need to talk. Tonight.” His eyes shifted away from her and he rubbed his hand over his face. She noticed that he needed a shave. Peering closer, she realized he looked tired.
Now she was really starting to get worried. “What’s wrong?” She leaned into his chest, wanting to comfort him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the huge sigh he let out ruffled the hair on top of her head.
“There are some things I’ve got to tell you. Things you need to know about your heritage.” There was a grim note in his voice that she’d never heard before. Her father was her rock, her foundation, but she could tell this was something he was very apprehensive about.
“Is it about her?” Alex knew he would know she was referring to her birthmother. She’d never called the woman by her given name even though she knew it.
“No, it’s not about Charlene. It’s about me.” He drew back and cupped her face in his hands. “Just remember that I love you.” Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Every decision I’ve made has been with your best interest in mind.”
Alex was quickly moving past worried and heading directly into the realm of deeply concerned. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.” The need to reassure her father overrode everything else, even her fears.
“I hope you can still say that after you hear what I have to say.” He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Tonight. I’ll explain everything tonight. In the meantime, don’t leave the garage without me. Promise me.”
She could sense the tension rolling through her father. Her own body felt tight. Stiff. “I promise.” She couldn’t help but sense that her world was about to change in some fundamental way and it would never be the same again. Another shiver raced up her spine and she hugged herself, wishing she’d layered another shirt under her sweatshirt.
His face softened for the briefest of seconds. “It will be all right, Alex.”
“I know.” She didn’t know anything at all at this point, but she was desperately trying to act as if everything was normal. She needed that if she was going to make it through today. It would do no good to demand he tell her everything now. He’d said tonight, so tonight it would be.
Work. She would focus on work. She’d been handling tools and working on vehicles since she was old enough to walk. She could lose herself in the beauty of a fine-tuned engine.
The door behind them slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang. Alex spun around and came face-to-face with a stranger. Huge was an understatement. Shaggy black hair framed a rough-hewn face, all angles and planes. His lips were thin, his eyes dark and piercing as they traced her body from head to foot. Menace seeped from every pore of his skin. Alex stood frozen in her tracks.
Her father jumped in front of her, a low growl emanating from deep inside him. Tension swelled, filling every nook and corner of the room. The stranger turned his gaze from her and focused on her father, but somehow Alex knew that he was still very aware of her.
His lips parted, giving him a strangely sensual, yet cruel appearance. “They’re coming for her.”
Chapter Two
Joshua Striker’s heart was pounding, although outwardly none of his excitement or agitation showed. He’d found her. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d managed to stay one step ahead of the two roving packs of wolves searching for her. She was a treasure and they all wanted her.
He could barely see her now, blocked by the bulk of her father’s body. But the one glimpse he’d had of her had been more than enough to fire his blood. He could almost feel her long, slender body bucking beneath his as he thrust hard and deep. He wanted to fuck her until she was screaming with pleasure, until they were both sweaty and spent. And then he’d do it all over again.
His cock swelled in anticipation, pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans. A fine sheen of sweat formed on his skin, making it itch. His scalp tingled, his muscles tightened. He shook his head to clear away the haze of lust enveloping him. Now was definitely not the time for this. His job was to protect her, not to claim her.
The man in front of him issued another low growl. James LeVeau, or rather James Riley as he called himself now, had disappeared from the Wolf Creek pack of werewolves in North Carolina almost fifty years ago. At the time he’d been the alpha of the pack, the toughest and smartest one of them all. After his beloved wife, Leda, had died in childbirth, he’d simply vanished.
Ther
e had been plenty of rumors over the years. The most intriguing one was that he’d had a child with a human, a daughter. Now they all knew the rumor was true and she was a prospective mate for many of the single male wolves.
The past hundred years had not been kind to the werewolves and their numbers were dwindling at an alarming rate. The past three decades had been even worse. Children were far and few between, as were females of mating age.
Personally, Joshua felt that had more to do with all the infighting between packs, but the reality remained that they needed children to expand their population. The fact that she was the daughter of one of the most powerful, most well-respected wolves in the country was a bonus. Whoever she mated with would immediately gain in status and standing.
“I come from Wolf Creek. Ian sent me.”
That gave the older man pause, but he didn’t back down or relax his stance. “Who are you?”
“Striker.” James blinked, but gave no other indication of what he was thinking. Joshua admired the other man’s self-possession.
“Last I heard Miguel was Striker of the Wolf Creek pack.”
“He was my father.” It still hurt for Joshua to think of his father. The large man had seemed invincible to his sons, but death had claimed him all the same.
“Was?” The very stillness of the other man assured Joshua that he was ready to spring and fight at any second.
“It took four rogue wolves and several humans to bring him down.” He wanted to tip back his head and howl with the sorrow that was his constant companion. Instead, Joshua swallowed, refusing to show any of the emotion beating at him. “He was searching for you.”
“You’re young Joshua.” James’ eyes narrowed as they raked over the younger man.
“I was. Now I am Striker of the Wolf Creek pack.” Striker was more than just their name, it was his family’s duty within the pack. The head of the Striker family was in charge of pack security, of protecting the alpha pair and the pack as a whole. That duty had fallen to him and he would not fail, no matter the cost.
“I am sorry to hear about your father. He was the best of us.” Joshua could not mistake the sincerity and the sorrow in James’ voice. “I missed him.”
“Why did you never contact him?” The biting question was past his lips before he could restrain it. Joshua was angry with himself for letting his emotion show. It was a weakness he could not afford.
“It was not safe. I had too much to lose.” James shook his head. “In those days they would not have accepted my child. She was not of pure blood.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Times have changed in the past few decades, have they not? Back then, they might have killed her, now they want to claim her.” His features hardened and the alpha warrior was revealed. “I will do whatever it takes to protect her.”
“Dad?” Her low, lilting voice washed over Joshua like a physical caress, making it hard for him to breathe. “What’s this all about? Who is this guy?” He could hear the uncertainty, the question in her voice as she stepped out from behind her father.
James reached out his hand and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her beneath the shelter of his arm. “This is part of what I needed to speak to you about.” His gaze never left Joshua’s face. “Lock the door and come upstairs. We have to talk.”
Joshua turned away from the pair, purposely leaving his back exposed. Taking his time, he threw all six bolts on the door. When he was done, he faced them and cocked his eyebrow in question. The older man motioned to a doorway at the far end of the garage.
He strode past them, trying not to stare at the woman. He didn’t know her name, but he knew that he wanted her. Something about her reached deep inside him, demanding that he claim her as his own. With his preternatural sense of smell, he caught a faint whiff of her scent and almost moaned. She was close to coming into heat, but not quite there yet. At the moment, it was just the faintest tantalizing perfume that made his head spin and sent lust surging through his bloodstream. Layered over that was the clean scent of woman, her own personal fragrance. It was fresh, like the mountain wildflowers after a summer’s rain.
And he was obviously losing his mind if he was waxing poetic when there was a pissed-off alpha at his back and danger surrounding them all. If he didn’t keep his mind on business, he’d never live long enough to have a chance to claim his woman.
And she was his. She just didn’t know it yet.
Alex could barely breathe as she climbed the stairs with her father. What was going on? Who was this man? And what the hell did he have to do with her father? She hadn’t understood half of what they’d said to each other, only that her father somehow knew this man. He was obviously part of the big secret her father had been planning to reveal to her tonight. Now that the time had come to find out, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Sucking in a deep breath, she kept her eyes on the stranger—Joshua Striker he’d said his name was—as he climbed the stairs in front of them. She was very aware of her father’s heavy arm wrapped protectively around her. He was incredibly tense and there was a feeling of anticipation, of primal excitement, that permeated the air. It was the same electric sensation that was usually a precursor to violence.
Joshua stepped up onto the landing at the top of the stairs.
“Left,” her father told him. Joshua didn’t even break stride, but kept going. When he reached the door, he turned the handle and went inside.
They followed him and her father paused long enough to close and bolt the door. All this secrecy was making her extremely nervous. As if sensing her growing agitation, her father gave her a quick hug before releasing her and heading straight for the large bookcase that dominated one of the four walls in the living room. Pressing a hidden latch on the side, he waited until there was a soft click and then he pulled the bookcase forward. It slid easily, revealing a small cache of weapons in the secret cubby behind it.
“Alex.” He motioned her forward and she hurried to his side, very aware of Joshua watching their every move. The fact that her father wanted her armed scared her straight down to her soul.
“Impressive.” Joshua did look impressed, she thought as she grabbed two knives and shoved one in each of her boots. Satisfied, she reached for the regular handgun she used for target practice, but her father stayed her hand.
“No.” He opened a small metal box on one of the shelves, reached inside and pulled out a 9mm semi-automatic. Popping the magazine, he checked the ammunition before slamming it home. He handed it to her. “Regular bullets are useless. You’ll need this.”
She automatically hooked the holster over her belt before checking the weapon herself. The ammunition looked different. “I don’t understand.”
Worry etched his face and the smile he gave her was filled with sorrow. “I know you don’t, honey.” He strapped a knife onto his belt while he talked. “Those bullets contain silver. What we’re fighting isn’t human.”
Her mouth went dry and she glanced over at Joshua, who stood silently watching.
“You can’t be serious.” Her father was acting as weird as Divine had this morning. “There’s no such thing as vampires, demons and werewolves. They’re just a myth.”
“Yes, there is.” He tucked a knife in each of his boots. “We’re dealing with werewolves and the only way to kill one is to break its neck, cut out its heart, decapitate it or poison it with silver. Regular bullets will slow it down some, but will mostly just piss it off. That’s why the bullets and the knife blades are coated in silver.”
Oh, God. Her father had lost his mind. There was no other explanation. Divine had been talking more and more about these creatures for the past year, even going as far as to claim she’d seen a vampire lurking in the shadows one night. Werewolves, Divine declared, mostly kept to the heavy woods outside the cities, roaming wild and free. Everyone gave them a wide berth or they paid the price, as wolves weren’t exactly known for being sociable to anyone outside their species.
“Dad?” Alex
didn’t quite know where to begin. She wondered if she should call an ambulance. Maybe her father was having a stroke or something. Although he looked as healthy and vital as ever.
James shook his head. “I’m not crazy, Alex. Werewolves are real.”
Wolf Creek pack. Her eyes flew to the man waiting patiently on the other side of the room. Did that mean he thought he was a werewolf? She swallowed hard, trying to grasp the situation. What did he want with her father and her?
Her father stepped back and pushed the bookcase toward the wall where it caught with a soft click. The whole situation was surreal. Alex had only gotten out of bed an hour ago, her life a predictable routine that she enjoyed. It was safe. Now in a matter of minutes that world no longer existed.
Joshua’s eyes were flitting back and forth from her to her father. She could see the wariness in them when they glanced toward her father, but they were filled with something totally different when they fell upon her.
Lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.
She’d never seen that look in a man’s eyes before. At least not directed toward her. The worst part was that it didn’t disgust her or frighten her as it ought to. He was a werewolf for heaven’s sake. Or at least thought he was. She wasn’t quite convinced there was anything to this but deluded madness.
She felt a yearning growing deep inside her, one she didn’t fully understand. Heat suffused her body, pooling between her thighs. She longed to walk up to this stranger and rub her breasts against his muscular chest and grind her pussy against the hard bulge in the front of his jeans.
What was wrong with her?
“Alex.” The bite in her father’s voice startled her and her eyes flew to him. He was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. Part sadness, part determination and part resignation.
Alexandra’s Legacy Page 2