by JC Holly
City Wolves 2
Pack Initiation
Darren Lane, a newly turned werewolf, finds love and friendship in experienced were Paul Christenson, and is soon invited into Paul’s wolf pack, led by alpha Ethan. Problems soon surface, though, when Paul’s old pack leader, Gabriel, attempts to blackmail Paul into committing a brutal crime. Just what is it that Gabriel holds over Paul’s head?
Paul is left with a dilemma. He refuses to do what Gabriel asks of him, but if he doesn’t Gabriel will reveal to Ethan the reason why Paul was forced out of his pack. He could tell Ethan himself and minimize the fallout, but he knows his new pack leader. If Ethan found out about Gabriel’s threats, it could lead to a pack war.
With tensions increasing between the two wolf packs, will Darren and Paul come through with their relationship, and their lives, intact?
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 35,173 words
PACK INITIATION
City Wolves 2
JC Holly
EROTIC ROMANCE
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove
PACK INITIATION
Copyright © 2012 by JC Holly
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-566-3
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DEDICATION
For my sweetheart.
PACK INITIATION
City Wolves 2
JC HOLLY
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Darren Lane stared out at the snow, then back at the god-awful advertisement he was designing for a local secondhand car dealership. Go for a run or work. It was a tough choice. On one hand, it was damn cold out there, and hard to move about in the snow. On the other, he could feel his artistic integrity slipping away. He dropped his digital pen beside his graphics tablet and headed downstairs.
Coffee always helped with tough decisions. He padded into the kitchen and found the coffee he’d bought earlier and put it in the microwave to heat back up. The bar flyer he’d stuck to the fridge the night before caught his eye, and he pulled it out from under the novelty sheep magnet and dropped it onto the table.
He’d heard of The Wolfpack before, but he’d never really had any interest in it before. From all he heard, it was a more sedate club than he was used to. No bright lights, no pounding music. Still chock-full of cock according to friends, though. He smirked and doodled a mustache onto the stylized wolf in the bottom corner.
“It’s got what I want, then.”
The microwave beeped, and he pulled out his piping-hot coffee, drinking half before he got back to the table. It was hot enough to burn, but he’d gotten a little more careless about such things since the change. He dropped into his chair and turned it to face the small kitchen window.
The snow was still falling, heavy even for January, and the temperature was in the low twenties. According to the weatherman, it was the worst winter in fifty years, and it didn’t show any signs of leaving.
Darren yearned to be out, though. To feel the wind in his hair, to stretch his legs, and see what he could see. He glanced at his fingernails. Were they getting longer?
“Screw it,” he said as he stood and downed the rest of his coffee. “I can grab a hot shower when I’m back.”
He unlocked the back door and was blown back a step as a gust of wind chose that precise moment to come and visit. Bracing his jaw to stop any chattering, he closed and locked his door, then headed to the small shed he’d built at the bottom of his now-white garden.
Darren was about as good a carpenter as he was an astronaut, but the small wooden shell kept most of the snow and wind out. He wrenched the stiff door open and stepped inside, dropping the house key into a small box hidden under the wooden floor, then stripped out of his clothes. Shivering in the unheated box, he felt inside himself for the new sensations that he’d felt ever since that wolf had bitten him and let them take over.
Agony tore through his body like fire, and he fought to keep himself from screaming as his body changed. Just when he thought this time would be the one that would kill him, the pain stopped. He opened his eyes to find himself lower to the ground and shook his head experimentally. His new perkier ears flapped about, and he chuffed at the lack of pain.
With a light brown paw he batted at the hatch in the floor he’d forgotten to lift while still in human form. It opened, revealing a rabbit hole that he’d spent days carefully reinforcing and widening until it would fit a wolf. He headed through, ignoring the claustrophobia, and emerged a few feet from his garden’s fence inside a heavy bush. He paused, listening for nearby people or animals, then set off.
Time to play.
* * * *
A new scent. Paul paused in the shadow of a nearby tree heavy with snow and sniffed the air. It was certainly a shifter, a male shifter, but the scent was muted. Light, almost airy, too. That meant that whoever they were, they hadn’t been a shifter for long.
On powerful legs, he sprinted in the direction of the scent. He was downwind, and the wolf was n
ew and probably not used to their abilities, so he could get close as long as he slowed as he got near.
The trees rushed by on either side as Paul bounded through the deep snow. Going so fast was reckless if he hadn’t known the area, but Paul had hunted and played in the copse of trees for years. He knew every rabbit hole, every exposed root.
On he ran, dodging remembered trouble spots, running on instinct and adrenaline. The scent grew stronger as the other wolf changed direction, and Paul slowed and headed off to the side, coming to a halt behind a thick-trunked oak.
The new wolf came into sight a few seconds later, apparently unaware of Paul’s proximity. The wolf was smaller than him, with a lighter brown coat, but moved just as fast, if not faster. His muscles shifted under his skin like finely tuned machines.
Just as Paul thought he was in the clear, the wolf skidded to a halt and spun to face the tree he stood behind. Better senses than I gave him credit for.
Paul padded out from behind the tree, his pace slow, his stance unthreatening. The new wolf backed up a few steps, then stopped. He was obviously confused. Maybe the guy thought he was the only shifter in town. Boy, is he in for a shock.
The two wolves stood stock-still for a few seconds, then the new wolf bolted back the way he had come. Paul watched him go, then headed off further into the woods. He had some thinking to do.
* * * *
Darren scrabbled back through his tunnel into his shed and shook the dirt free from his fur, spattering the wooden walls with snow and dirt. He shifted back into his human form and quickly pulled on his clothes.
Who the hell was that wolf? No, not wolf, werewolf. Somehow Darren knew that the guy was the same as he was, and it freaked him the hell out. He retrieved his door key and placed a hand on the cold shed door, then paused. What if the wolf had followed him home? Wolves in the wild were territorial, so it made sense that at least some werewolves would feel the same. The wolf could be waiting on the other side of the door.
“I can’t stay in here all damn day,” he muttered.
After a deep breath, he pushed the door wide and stepped out, half expecting to be bowled over. There was no one, and no footprints in the snow other than his own, either. With a sigh of relief he jogged back to his kitchen door and let himself in, locking it behind him then kicking off his snow-covered boots.
The more he thought about the encounter, the less concerned he became about the wolf being hostile. Yes, the wolf had hidden behind a tree, and only a chance gust of wind had alerted him to its scent, but when discovered, the wolf revealed itself and didn’t show any hostility. If it wanted to, it could have torn out Darren’s back leg as he ran away. It would have been an easy kill.
He shuddered, and it wasn’t just from the low temperature. Before his change, even the mere thought of such fights would have him come out in a cold sweat, but since the wolf took up residence in his head, a coldness had settled over his thoughts. He wasn’t a fan, but it had its advantages. It was much easier to remain calm in situations that used to make him anxious. On the other hand, it had shortened his temper significantly. It was a tough balance to maintain.
Something on the floor caught his attention. It was the flyer for The Wolfpack. The opening of the door must have blown it off the table. He stooped to retrieve it and clipped it back onto the fridge.
A drink would take his mind off things. He’d call Robby and see if he was up for a night out.
“But first, a shower before I freeze to death.”
Chapter Two
Robby was, as always, up for a night out, and arrived at Darren’s place hours before they had planned to meet up. Darren waved him into the house, then headed back upstairs to change. Robby followed behind.
“Tell me again why I’m not seeing that ass every night?” he asked as he swatted Darren’s boxers.
“Because the only things we have in common are being gay and liking alcohol.”
“Oh yeah. Still, it’s a shame.”
Darren had to disagree, but he kept it to himself. Robby was fun on a night out, and was even capable of conversing when sober, but he was far from Darren’s type. Blond, blue eyed, thin as a rail, and as camp as a row of pink tents. No, thanks.
They had messed around once or twice in the past, though. Alcohol had been involved, but neither particularly regretted the experiences. They’d even tried the whole “friends with benefits” thing, but it hadn’t panned out. Shame, really. Having a fuck on speed dial had its appeals, even if said fuck wanted to talk about the latest Britney album afterward.
Robby perched on the edge of the bed while Darren ummed and ahhed over what to wear. He was no follower of fashion, but he liked to look his best when the possibility of meeting someone was on the table.
“I like the blue shirt,” Robby said. “Maybe with something thinner on the legs?”
“I’ve got five pairs of pants, Rob, and they’re all the same thickness.”
He sighed. “Then go with the black ones. Jeez, you’ll never get a man with your wardrobe.”
“I’m not looking for a man.” Darren pulled on his pants and fastened his shirt. “Though if I did, any that was put off because of what I was wearing wouldn’t be the guy for me anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Robby stood and tweaked Darren’s collar straight. “You like ’em sensible, funny, and hung like a horse.”
“We all like the last part.” Darren winced at Robby’s breath. “What the hell have you been drinking? Lighter fluid?”
Robby laughed. “Could have been, given how cheap it was. Gotta prime the engine before the club. Speaking of which, where are we going?”
“The Wolfpack. Thought we’d try it out.”
“The Wolfpack? But it’s an old-man bar!” Robby rolled his eyes. “Nobody under twenty-five is seen dead in there!”
Darren smirked and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “You’re twenty-six, Robby, and I’m a year off twenty-five.”
Robby carried on complaining about the lack of good music and cocktails while Darren prepared in the bathroom. Robby would bitch and moan for a bit, but he’d come. Kind of like when they messed around in bed.
The shirt button on his right arm had only been half-fastened, and it came loose as he brushed, revealing the large scar on his lower forearm. Damn wolf. He shook the sleeve down again and refastened the button. The last thing he wanted before a fun night out was a reminder of that.
There was a snap, and Darren jumped as the toothbrush he held in his hand snapped in two. He raised it up to his eyes and frowned. He’d barely applied any pressure at all. With a muttered curse word, he threw the broken brush into the trash and pulled out a spare. His strength was still increasing, and had been ever since he’d been bitten. It would have to stop soon, or he’d be a hulk in another month.
“You ready or what?” Robby called from the bedroom. “I want to see if I get me a sugar daddy or two.”
Darren smirked at his reflection, then headed out.
* * * *
The Wolfpack wasn’t in the least bit crowded, Darren was happy to see. While there were two large bouncers by the doors, there was no queue for them to keep back, and he and Robby walked straight in.
Red leather booths sat in a semicircle behind the small raised dance floor, and neither were more than half-full. Contrary to Robby’s insistence, there were quite a few men under twenty-five, and on seeing them, Robby headed off in their direction, leaving Darren to head to the bar and order the drinks.
A slim woman of Indian descent stood behind the bar, her elbows on the wood and a dishcloth drooped between her hands. She nodded as Darren approached, but didn’t straighten.
“Hey, cutie. What can I get you?”
As Darren came closer, something gave him pause. There was something about her that nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Have we met?” he asked as he took up a stool.
“Nope. And that’s a terrible pi
ck-up line.”
“I’m gay.”
She smirked. “That’s even worse.” For a moment, her nostrils flared. “You, uh, you new to these parts?”
“No, lived here for years.”
“Funny, I know all the locals.” She bit her lip. “Anyway, what’s your poison, stud?”
Odd woman. “Couple of vodkas, please.”
She turned to grab a bottle. “Name’s Avani, by the way. You?”
“Darren.” He took the two glasses as she poured them and waved to Robby. “Worked here long?”
“Few years now, yeah. Nice place. Quieter than most of the local clubs.”
Darren nodded. “Yeah. I don’t mind the music, but it gets old.”
From the corner of his eye he spotted Robby approaching, leading some twink by the hand.
“Does he know about you?” Avani asked, her head cocked to one side like a dog.
“That I’m gay?” Darren smirked. “The guy he’s bringing over will probably be blowing him later.”
Avani smirked, then shook her head. “Ah. You’re new.”
Before Darren could question the statement, she disappeared into the back. Robby appeared a moment later and knocked his vodka back, then kissed his new friend hard on the mouth.
“Look who I found!” Robby said.
Darren glanced at the new guy. “We’ve met?”
“It’s Chris! From Glads down on third?” Robby rolled his eyes. “You don’t remember.”