What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack)

by Kristin Miller

  “No, you shouldn’t. It’s not funny, especially because you knew the whole time.” Carrie pointed into her face. “You saw the applications first. You had to know. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I swear I had no idea.”

  But it was pretty damn funny.

  Defeated, Carrie slumped against the whitewashed tile wall. “What am I going to do? I can’t be karaoke. Every time someone says my name, I’ll die.”

  “Or break out in song.”

  “Not. Funny.”

  She couldn’t help it. The jokes were too easy.

  Shrugging, Josie cracked a smile. “It might not be so bad.”

  “Seriously?” Carrie’s eyes went wild. “Paging Carrie Oakey to the front. The doctor will see you now, Carrie Oakey. Oh my gosh, Carrie Oakey, I haven’t seen you in ages. I’ll hear karaoke for the rest of my life, and hate every person who tries to hide their laughter.”

  Well, she couldn’t blame them.

  Carrie needed a hefty dose of reality before she lost the best thing that ever happened to her…and Josie’s chance to be in the spotlight.

  “Are you really going to cancel the wedding to the man of your dreams simply because of his name?” she asked, wiping her sister’s tears. “That’s something he can’t even control. His name was given to him, and he probably wants to pass it on to his children—no, scratch that. Your children. As his bride, you should be proud to take the Oakey name.”

  Carrie made a psshing sound, blubbering her lips together. “Would you take it and be a laughingstock for the rest of your life?”

  No. Probably not. But she didn’t love Mitch the way Carrie did.

  “Honestly, Carrie, it didn’t even occur to me until you said it five times fast.”

  “Yeah, but you were always pretty gullible.”

  “Hey now.”

  “You know I don’t mean it.” Carrie sniffed and then swiped her hand beneath her nose. “So you think I should go through with it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Tired, glossy eyes stared back at her. “And you’re not just saying that because you don’t want to miss out on your special with Martha Silverstone?”

  No. Yes…maybe?

  It had been the first thing that came to her mind, hadn’t it?

  God, she must be the worst sister on the planet.

  “No, that’s not the reason.” It was a major one, but not the only one. “I want you to be happy.” Absolute truth. “And I’d hate to see you ruin something because of the way his name sounds matched with yours. That’s petty, don’t you think?”

  Slowly, and after a long pause, Carrie nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

  “Come on, then,” Josie said, helping her tone-deaf sister off the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back out to your fiancé.”

  …

  Ryder couldn’t find Mitch anywhere.

  He wasn’t in the men’s room, or at the tables in back, or out front. He’d checked, just in case.

  Frustration setting in, Ryder pushed out the back door. It was an emergency exit, but the doors didn’t sound. The smell of cigarettes, sewer, and street grime hit him like a sledgehammer. Squelching the urge to spew, Ryder pinched his nose and searched through the alley. Senses tingling, he glanced one direction. Down the street. And then he scanned the other way.

  A low growl reverberated through the air.

  His heart drummed as rage lurched through his veins, burning him up. Keeping his movement slow and deliberate, Ryder turned on his heel. A wolf lurked in the shadows behind a Dumpster, its green eyes piercing the dark.

  “Mitch?”

  As the growl intensified, the wolf pawed at the ground. Closer. Out of the shadows. Smooth, dark fur flattened over his back and burst around his face. A familiar gleam in the wolf’s eyes had Ryder blowing out a relieved breath.

  “Thank God it’s you,” Ryder said, getting a rein on the fury whipping through him. “You scared the shit out of me, Mitch. For a second I thought I was going to have to shift in the damn alley to protect myself from a rogue attack.”

  From the day Hayden Dean took the position of Alpha of their wolf pack, rogue attacks had been on the decline. A few years ago, a late-night walk through an alley would’ve been like a welcome for a lawless wolf to attack. Now, though, the rogues were down in number. Nearly gone. Hayden had taken the pack from reckless to civilized. Some people were born to be leaders. Others were…well, others did what they could to survive.

  “What the hell are you doing, anyway?” Ryder double-checked to make sure the emergency exit was closed completely. “You’re lucky Josie or Carrie didn’t come out here and catch you like that.”

  I’m drunk enough that I might not care if she sees me, Mitch said through their pack’s process of mind-speak. What do you think?

  Projected thoughts could carry through the pack, even if one was in human form and one was in wolf form. Ryder could block the thoughts if he chose, but he’d never cut Mitch out. Especially not now when his behavior was so damn weird.

  “You know I’m all for revealing this side of yourself,” Ryder said, striding toward his friend. “But this might not be the right time. You’re both drunk.”

  Exactly. I could finally get this off my chest without freaking out about it. He plopped onto his back haunches and nearly fell sideways into the Dumpster. And there’s a very real chance she could forget about it in the morning.

  “That’s kind of defeating the purpose.” Did he not understand how important this part of him was? “You want her to remember. You want her to accept you completely, and have no doubts about the ceremony or who you really are.”

  Was he the only one seeing the situation clearly?

  “You could scare her this way,” Ryder said, appealing to his logical side. “But if you sit her down and explain the dynamic of shifting, and how you were turned during an attack, she might understand. She’d still be afraid, but it’d be different than running into a werewolf in a dark alley.”

  She won’t be scared. He sneezed, his muzzle touching the ground. It’s me.

  “You know that, and I know that, but she doesn’t. You’re more formidable than you think.” Ryder patted his friend on the head. “She’s not prepared for this.”

  But neither of them was prepared for the back door to swing open with a deafening creak. Ryder pushed Mitch into the shadows, hiding him with his legs as Carrie and Josie burst into the alley.

  “There you are,” Carrie slurred, stumbling over her two feet. Josie held her upright, arms beneath her sister’s armpits. “Have you seen my fiancé? You might know him. His name is Mr. Oakey. O-A-K-E-Y. And I loooooove his name, just so you know. You can tell him that, too.” She made a flying motion with her hand, and then zipped her lips closed. “And I’m A-O-Kay with taking it.”

  Mitch had been right earlier: she probably wouldn’t remember a damn thing in the morning. She was toasted.

  “That’s great, Carrie. I like his name, too.” Nerves shot through him as Mitch pawed at his feet. “Hey, you know what? I saw Mitch come out of the bathroom a few minutes ago. Why don’t you go check on him?”

  Josie frowned, her gaze shooting to the shadows near the ground.

  “That’s strange.” Carrie blinked slowly. “Because the smarty-pants bartender said you two left out the back a few minutes ago.”

  “He was wrong.”

  Planting a hand on Mitch’s forehead, Ryder pushed him back. Still, his drunk friend edged forward, pressing against his legs. He was about to seriously step over the edge.

  Telling Carrie the truth was one thing. Outing himself in an alley to Carrie and her sister—non-shifters—was breaking wolf pack law.

  Tell her I have something to show her, Mitch projected from behind him.

  “You’re being a drunken fool and not thinking straight,” Ryder bit out. “It’s not a good idea, and you know it.”

  “Excuse me?” Hand over her heart, Josie stepped closer
. “What’s not?”

  Damn it, in his panic he’d forgotten she couldn’t hear werewolf mind-speak.

  Filled with fear and frustration, he shook his head. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Tell her, Mitch said. Better give her a warning or something. This alley is about to get a whole lot hairier.

  “Don’t do this.” Panic welled up inside him. “I’m warning you.”

  Stopping, Josie put up her hands. “Warning me? About what?”

  I’m coming out.

  “Don’t.” He was wound so tight, he could burst. “Not like this. It’s not going to end well and you know it.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

  And she didn’t know the half of it. In a few seconds, though, she was about to get the real picture from Mitch.

  One…two…

  “Will you take Carrie back inside?” Ryder rattled, anxiety shaking him to the core. “Please? I’ll meet you—”

  But before he could finish, Mitch counted to three and darted around Ryder’s legs. He rounded the Dumpster. Slipped as his front legs tangled together. Screams exploded through the alley as Mitch tore through it and slid to a stop in front of Carrie. Dragging her sister into her arms, Josie shrieked. Backed against the grimy wall.

  And then she eyed Ryder with a mixture of alarm, sheer terror, and bewilderment. That look—right there—was the one he’d been desperate to avoid. He could almost read her thoughts as her attention turned from the wolf to where he stood, facing them, hands in his pockets.

  For facing a large black wolf in a dark alley, he was too calm.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fear cemented her shoes to the ground. She couldn’t move an inch. Couldn’t breathe, not one breath.

  “Oh God.” Josie was too stunned to cry out. “Don’t make any sudden movements, Carrie.”

  Her sister blubbered something that sounded like a curse. And then the unmistakable sound of vomit hitting asphalt echoed through the alley. Something splattered on Josie’s shoes, making her gag reflex tick.

  Keeping her attention on the wolf, Josie slid her feet along the ground. They budged, but barely.

  “Stay back,” she rasped, her throat drying to sandpaper. “You don’t want to hurt us.”

  The wolf kinked its neck to the side and stared. Its pupils widened to black holes as it flopped onto its hind legs and watched her edge toward the door. From behind him, Ryder exhaled heavily. Marched closer. Right up to the beast.

  “What are you doing?” Her heart lurched into her throat. “Ryder? Get away from that thing.”

  “You should get out of here.” He circled close to the wolf. As if he wasn’t afraid of it lashing out. What was wrong with him? Did the guy have a death wish? “Last chance to change your mind.”

  Why the hell would she do that?

  With the speed of a lightning bolt, the wolf snapped its neck around to stare Ryder dead in the eye. And then it shook its big furry head.

  “Did the wolf just—” Answer you? “No, that couldn’t be right.”

  They both glanced her way. As if they—the wolf included—heard and understood what she’d wanted to say.

  “Mitch, don’t,” Ryder pleaded.

  She’d never heard his voice so pained.

  “Mitch?” Carrie gripped Josie’s arm and hauled herself off the ground. “Where? Is he out here?”

  The wolf yelped. Ryder smacked it in the back of the head, eliciting a low growl.

  “You’re going to get your hand bitten off,” Josie said, grasping the handle. “And I’m not sticking around to watch.”

  As the wolf’s head arched up toward the moon, it howled. Deafeningly loud.

  “Josie?” Carrie covered her ears with both hands. “What’s happening?”

  She could almost sense her sister’s fear. Shielding her, Josie dragged Carrie into her arms and held her tight. This was it. The end. At least they’d die together. And where the hell was Ryder in all of this? Watching it happen? Smacking it in the back of the head to piss it off? Lot of help he was. Too bad he couldn’t do something with all that bulging muscle.

  Holding her sister’s head against her chest, Josie chanced one eye. The wolf finished its frightening howl and then shook, ears to tail. It was one of those full-body shakes dogs did after they got hosed. Only the beast wasn’t wet. And it was about three times the size of the biggest dog she’d ever seen.

  Its back legs quivered and shook. Its nose scrunched. Ears flattened down. Tail shrank. In another ferocious shake, its fur flattened over its back. Ryder backed away, as if to give the thing space.

  It was like something out of a horror movie, and she couldn’t look away.

  Terror gripping her, Josie squeezed her sister and watched the wolf’s head shrink. Its body transformed. Fur gave way to skin—skin!—and its hind legs elongated.

  “Don’t look,” Josie breathed into Carrie’s hair. “The wolf’s hideous. And dying…or something.”

  “He’s not dying,” Ryder said plainly. “But I’ll kill him for this.”

  She felt her face scrunch as she glowered at Ryder. In the split second she took her eyes off the wolf, it disappeared. Mitch had somehow replaced the wolf and was crouched on the ground, right where it had been. His skin was sweaty, clammy. His hair was matted down to his head. And he was buck-ass naked.

  “Carrie,” he panted, covering his male parts. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I didn’t know how else to explain it.”

  Explain what, exactly?

  Slowly, Carrie peeked from beneath Josie’s arm. “Mitch?”

  He nodded, though the rest of him remained unmoving. As if he was waiting for some kind of assurance that everything would be okay.

  “Wait…what’s going on?” Josie glared at Ryder. He was much too calm—the only one who looked relaxed with the situation, actually. “What happened to the wolf?”

  Striding to the Dumpster, Ryder kicked Mitch’s clothes at him. He appeared unfazed. Completely cool and relaxed, as if he hadn’t witnessed the same thing they had.

  “Say something.” Panic shot through her, followed by a gripping wave of nausea. “Ryder, where’s the wolf?”

  Mitch stood, covering his groin with the pile of clothes. “I’m right here.”

  “I’m scared.” Carrie shook as if she were going to rattle apart. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m a werewolf, Carrie.”

  Josie’s ears rang. “Come again?”

  “Ah, shit.” Ryder paced a tight circle, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “Here we go.”

  Josie narrowed her eyes at him as he folded his arms over his chest and sighed. Why was he always on the inner circle of everything? Harboring secrets. Telling lies. Standing there looking too sexy for his own good.

  Closing her eyes as Mitch rose off the ground, Josie released her sister.

  “I’m sorry,” Carrie said, a giggle bubbling out of her. “I didn’t hear you. I could’ve sworn you said you were a—”

  “Werewolf,” Mitch finished. “The wolf that stood here a few seconds ago…it was me.”

  Funny, but he said that as if he actually believed it.

  Carrie swiped her hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean the wolf was you?”

  None of this was making sense.

  The wolf had been right there. Right there. One second it was huge, with a raised back and pointy fangs, and the next minute Mitch was in its place. Josie did a quick scan of the alley. Nothing there but Dumpsters and littered garbage. As she looked up into the yellow face of the moon, a clamming wave of panic settled over her.

  Werewolf.

  Full moon.

  Could he really—no, no that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t thinking straight. This wasn’t True Blood. This was real life, and things like that didn’t exist.

  Her gaze shot to Ryder. She tried to read him, but came
up blank. He’d been too at ease through all of this, hadn’t he? He’d slapped Mitch in the back of the head. Stood idly by while the wolf tramped toward them. He’d been unafraid. And neither of them were laughing, which is what they should’ve been doing if she and Carrie were getting punked. Everyone was too much at peace, and acting too serious, for this to be a joke.

  “I’m so sorry, Carrie.” Mitch reached out for her. “Please don’t be mad, or scared. This wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t plan this. It just happened.”

  Jump back. Smack away his hand.

  But she reached out, squeezing his fingers.

  “Carrie, don’t.” Fright wormed its way through Josie’s middle. “He just said he was a wolf. Didn’t you hear him? He’s either delusional or telling the truth and really is a wolf—either way, you should run as far away from him as you can.”

  Carrie jerked back her hand.

  “He won’t hurt her,” Ryder said flatly, searching through the alley. “It’s not like that. He’s not the type.”

  Fear flipped to anger. “How do you know what he’s capable of? He’s psychotic.”

  “No, he’s being honest.” Ryder paused, and then, “I told you there were things you couldn’t know about a person from a dating application, didn’t I? You should’ve listened from the start and told your sister to move on.”

  “This was what you were hiding? The fact that he’s a compulsive liar? How was I supposed to know that? It wasn’t like that was question number thirty-three on the questionnaire.” Her voice screeched as she held her sister’s shaking hand. “You could’ve told me from the start that your buddy was crazy. You put my sister in danger because you were too stubborn to admit the truth.”

  “Did you not see him in wolf form? Standing right in front of you? He shifted. Right here.” Ryder kicked the side of the Dumpster. The sound reverberated off the alley walls like thunder. “You saw him with your own eyes. I don’t know how you’re able to stand here and deny it.”

  “Carrie, please,” Mitch pleaded, lifting his arms from his sides and coming closer. “I’m the same person I was before I was attacked by a werewolf and bitten. Now, every full moon, on nights like tonight, I can feel the shifting energy of it pulsing through my veins. I can turn into a wolf and back again without much effort…unless I’m piss-drunk, apparently.”