Snow [The Wolves of Shade County 4] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by JC Holly

  His music suddenly disappeared, and he realized that he’d been singing along. Loudly. He stopped and chuckled.

  “Sorry!” he called over the rush of the water. “Didn’t realize you were home. I disturb you?”

  “You could say that.”

  The reply was closer than he’d expected. He wiped a section of the cubicle wall free of steam to find his housemate, Nadia, leaning against the bathroom doorframe, her eyebrow raised and a pencil behind her ear.

  “You out tonight, then?” she asked. “May I get some peace?”

  “Yes and yes.” He stepped out of the shower. “Unless I bring someone home.”

  She rolled her eyes and tossed him a towel. She was gay, so his nudity was about as appealing as last week’s soup.

  “Go to his place, hmm?”

  Bernie pouted. “Or maybe I’ll just fuck him in the alley behind the bar like a dog.”

  “As long as I get my sleep before my exam, I don’t care.”

  He grinned and shook his hair, splattering her with water. She shrieked and ducked back into the bedroom, laughing. Bernie dried himself off and followed her, only to get a pillow to the face.

  “That’s for the water,” she said with a grin as she walked back into the lounge.

  Bernie let her go unmolested and got dressed.

  Nadia had shared the apartment for a year, after she’d answered the advertisement he and Steve had put in the paper. She’d been fresh off the plane from France, and eager to find somewhere cheap to live while she studied at the local university. With her flawless chocolate-colored skin, perfect body, and cute accent, she could have any woman she wanted. But Nadia only wanted to study. It was a chore just getting her to go out for a drink. It never stopped him trying, though.

  “One drink?” he called. “You’ll be back in no time.”

  “Exam,” came the reply. “Big exam.”

  “It’ll be good for the nerves.”

  “I have no nerves. I’m a lean, unpleasant, studying machine.”

  “Mean, honey. Not unpleasant.”

  “Merde. That too.”

  He smirked and crossed the room to his dresser. His choice of clothing wasn’t as impressive as it once was, but he still had a few things that showed off what he wanted to show off. He selected a pair of dark-blue pants that made his ass look great, and paired them with a white shirt that was a little on the tight side. The whole tight-white-shirt thing was cliché, but it worked. He didn’t bother with underwear.

  The hair took a little longer to deal with, as it refused to stay where it was put, even after careful blow-drying and a liberal amount of product. After ten minutes of cursing at it, Nadia came in and straightened it out. He thanked her with a kiss on the cheek, then straightened and stretched.

  “Sure I can’t convince you to come out?” He feigned a sad face. “I’ll be so lonely.”

  “For about ten minutes,” she said. “Then someone will notice how cute you are…for a guy…and you’ll spend the rest of the night covered in semen.”

  “You make it sound so romantic.”

  She poked out her tongue and left the room again. This time Bernie followed her into the lounge.

  It wasn’t a huge room, but it was well-decorated. That was Steve’s touch, not Bernie’s, but he figured as long as he didn’t reverse his car through the front door he wouldn’t have to redecorate for years yet.

  Nadia took up a position on the sofa, cross-legged and surrounded by paper and textbooks. They covered the rest of the sofa, the coffee table, and spilled onto the carpet. Bernie stepped around it all carefully and passed through the door to the kitchen.

  He filled the coffee maker and flipped it on, then put a bottle of soda next to it, along with a bowl of chips. Nadia had a habit of forgetting to eat and drink when she studied. In theory the smell of coffee would draw her into the kitchen, where she’d spot the supplies. To make his point complete, he stuck a post-it on the bowl with the word “eat” in big letters, followed by a smiley face.

  “Cute.”

  He turned to find her watching him, smiling and shaking her head. “I’m not that bad.”

  “Yes, you are.” He kissed her on the head. “I’m gone. Don’t study all night.”

  He headed out the door and jumped into his car. Nadia waved from the window as he pulled off the driveway, and he blew her another kiss. He had to admire her work ethic. If he’d had the same he wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job he hated.

  He shook his head. “Nope, none of that,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Tonight’s about fun.”

  * * * *

  Snow settled into a booth at the back of the bar and watched the people dance a few feet away. There wasn’t anyone of interest, but it was early yet. Besides, he was there to work first.

  Another man approached the booth and put down two beers before taking a seat opposite Snow. He popped the caps with his thumbs and slid a drink over. Snow took it and nodded his thanks.

  “So, you’re here to recruit me,” the man, named Derek, said.

  “Word spreads fast.” Snow took a long drink. Not a patch on English beer, but good enough. “You’ve heard about the attacks, right?”

  He didn’t lower his voice, since the music covered it. He didn’t need to speak up either, though, as his company could have heard the conversation from across the room. The shifter nodded once.

  “I heard you took care of the witch involved.”

  “I did. She wasn’t the only one, though.”

  “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

  Snow raised an eyebrow. “There have been attacks since.”

  “Attacks, sure, but nobody knows that there are more witches.” Derek smirked. “And I can handle a couple of dumbass humans with baseball bats.”

  “That’s what the last guy I talked to said.” Snow tapped the beer bottle on the table. “It’ll be another week until he regains his sight.”

  “He was weak.” Derek shrugged. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Snow. Longer than you, maybe as long as your alpha.”

  Snow doubted it, but conceded with a nod. “Why take the risk, though?”

  “Our entire life is a risk, boy. How many times have you been attacked by humans, pack or no pack?”

  The “boy” made Snow prickle, but he wasn’t there to fight. “They aren’t attacking pack members.”

  “Yet. If you’re recruiting, why wouldn’t they be, too? Soon as they get enough people, your affiliation won’t make a difference.”

  “Maybe. But that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “It will.”

  For the next twenty minutes, the pair went in circles. Snow tried every angle he could, but the shifter only got harder and harder to talk to. In the end Snow gave in. Derek was like most older pack-less. They were too comfortable in their lifestyles to change. Perhaps there was something to the old adage of being unable to teach old dogs new tricks. Snow handed him a card with his number, and told him to call if he ever changed his mind, but he knew the man wouldn’t.

  Snow had done all he could, though. He’d talked to enough shifters lately that he’d quickly learned not to take the rejection personally. Instead he settled into the booth and finished his beer. Shortly after someone came up to Derek and attempted to flirt. To Snow’s surprise the corny line worked, and Derek left, his hand firmly clamped to the man’s ass. Snow smirked and shook his head, then turned his attention back to the dance floor.

  Over by the bar, he spotted a cute dark-haired guy in blue pants and a white shirt, but just as he was considering heading over and giving him some old English charm, another guy started chatting to him about the weather, then quickly switched to naughty things in the alley out back. Apparently tonight was “use your worst lines” night. Again, it worked, and the two disappeared out the fire exit.

  With the shifter gone, and the only man of interest getting some out back, Snow decided it wasn’t his night and headed out the front door.
Maybe an hour or two in his wolf form would chill him out enough to get some sleep free of bad dreams for once.

  The air was crisp, and the sidewalks wet with a light rain that had recently started. He took in a breath and exhaled slowly, savoring the taste. His calm didn’t last long.

  Somewhere nearby someone cried out in surprise. Snow focused on the sound and heard someone else in hushed tones ask for a wallet. It was coming from behind the bar. With a muttered curse he sprinted around the corner of the building, pausing just before the alley while he composed himself. A quick sniff told him three men were nearby, one scared, two not. Looks like I’ll get some fun after all.

  Snow stepped into the mouth of the alley to find the scared man was the one he’d spotted in the bar earlier. He was up against the fire door, his hands up. The other two men were moving closer. One held a bat, the other a knife.

  “Two against one?” Snow asked, as he strolled over, hands in pockets. “Hardly fair, guys.”

  One of the men whirled around, his knife high. “Fuck off, or you’re next.”

  Snow smirked. “I’d rather be first, if you don’t mind.”

  The man frowned. He hadn’t expected a reply. “Watch him,” he muttered to his partner.

  As soon as the second man turned back to their intended victim, Snow moved forward. The knife-wielder lashed out quickly. For a human, anyway. Snow moved left, avoiding the blade by an inch, then bent right to avoid the second attack. He didn’t even take his hands out of his pockets.

  “Maybe you should get the other guy to give you a hand,” he said as he side-stepped a lunge. “You seem to be missing me quite a lot.”

  “Fuck you!” He glanced over his shoulder. “Terry!”

  The other man, Terry apparently, rushed in too, and the pair tried in vain to hit Snow. He let them think they were close each time, only moving just enough to avoid the attack. In actual fact he was playing with them, like a cat with a mouse. Once you’d fought shifters and other supernatural entities, a couple of coked-up humans were as much threat as a toddler with a Nerf gun.

  He dipped low to the left and glanced behind the pair. The man in the blue pants stood now, watching in amazement. Snow threw him a wink, then straightened and smashed his forehead into the nose of the man with the knife. There was a sickening crunch and the man fell back with a muffled yelp.

  As the second man turned to look at his friend, Snow snapped a kick into his balls, then a knee into his jaw as the man crumpled. He straightened from the force of the blow, then fell on his arse. Neither man got up again.

  “Well now.” Snow dropped to his haunches and took the men’s weapons. “That wasn’t very nice of them.”

  He tossed the knife and bat into a dumpster opposite, then smiled at the men’s intended victim. “You okay?”

  “Y–yeah.” The man ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “Thanks. I thought the guy wanted…”

  “A shag in the alley?” Snow grinned. “Not this time, it seems.”

  The man chuckled. “Seems so. How did you do that?”

  “Years of martial arts movies. I’m Snow, by the way.”

  “Bernie.” He frowned. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

  Snow grinned. “That’s a terrible chat-up line, you know.” He handed Bernie a card. “In this case it worked, though.”

  Bernie glanced at the card. “I was being serious.”

  “Oh. So you don’t want my number?”

  He took it with a grin. “Never said that.”

  Snow chuckled. “Get out of here. I’ll watch these morons to make sure they don’t follow. Call me, okay? I promise to put out.”

  Bernie promised to call, then headed out of the alley. Snow waited with his two new friends. They weren’t very talkative. Once he was sure Bernie was clear, he headed out the other end of the alley and turned toward home. With all the adrenaline in his system he’d never sleep tonight. It was worth it, though.

  Chapter Three

  “I should have come with you.”

  Nadia was pacing the carpet of the lounge. By the time Bernie had returned she’d stopped studying and had been watching a movie. As soon as she’d seen the look on his face, she’d flipped off the TV and began the questions. He’d lasted about three seconds before he’d told her everything.

  Bernie sat on the couch, a beer cooling his hands. “I’m fine.”

  “But if I’d gone, I could have helped.”

  “It was in the alley out back,” he said. “Unless you’d intended to watch me blow some guy, you wouldn’t have even known it had happened.”

  Nadia sighed and folded her arms. “I know, I know. I’m just…uh, annoyed, but with a p?”

  “Pissed.”

  “Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “I am pissed.”

  “It’s fine. That English guy kicked the crap out of them. They didn’t get a chance to do anything.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t a stage?”

  “A what?”

  “You know, two guys pretend to be bad, and then the other guy is the hero who rescues you. Later they share a beer.”

  Bernie chuckled. “You watch too much TV. These guys weren’t getting back up any time soon, believe me.”

  The fight stuck in his head, and he doubted it would fade any time soon. It had been fast, and brutal, but Snow had handled it like it was a walk in the park. And he’d been honorable about it, too. Once the men were down, he hadn’t continued. He’d made sure they were out for the count and that was that.

  “And he gave you his number?” Nadia asked, nodding at the card on the table. “Will you call?”

  “Definitely.” He grinned. “You should have seen him. Quick, strong, gorgeous. And that hair…” He cursed as it occurred where he knew Snow from. “He was the guy on the balcony!”

  Nadia frowned. “The man you saw when you were out?”

  “Yeah! He was the guy doing the balancing act.”

  “You’re sure? There must be more than one person with hair like that.”

  Bernie picked up the business card. Under “Consultant” was his address. The address of the apartment building. He handed her the card.

  “It’s him.”

  She chewed her lip. “He calls himself Snow? Even on his business cards? That’s a little odd.”

  “True. He seemed like a nice guy, though. Even when he was beating those guys, he did it nicely.”

  Nadia smirked and shook her head. “You’ve seen him twice, and already you’re in love.”

  “Hardly.” Bernie snatched the card back. “I’m just saying he’s worth a call.”

  “Probably, at least to thank him properly.” She arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean you have to bed him, though.”

  “I know, I know.” He stood and stretched, then walked to his bedroom. “We could use a chair, or a table, or the floor…”

  He laughed as a cushion hit him in the back of the head.

  * * * *

  Snow lay splayed out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The height of his apartment meant very little sound or light pollution got in through the windows, but he still couldn’t sleep. More accurately, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He could feel himself start to drift, but he knew tonight was going to be a bad night.

  Meeting Bernie had been great, but other than that his day had consisted of discussing attacks on shifters, and hurting would-be muggers. If his mind was full of violence, his dreams would reflect it, and that meant nightmares about his past.

  Shifters, especially older ones, usually didn’t need as much sleep as humans, but they still needed some, and Snow had been awake for three days already.

  “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Just let it go.”

  He flexed his hands, arms, feet, and legs, easing the tension from them before moving to his shoulders, neck, and torso. It left him feeling more relaxed, but not any less anxious. It would have to do, though. With all the attacks lately, he needed to be on the ball.
Sleep approached once more, and this time he let it.

  He woke with a yell some time later, drenched in sweat, the sheets torn and balled in his fists. The alarm by his bed told him he’d been asleep an hour, but it felt more like he’d been running a marathon. He sat up and forced his breathing to calm as he sorted through what he could remember of the dream. It was fading fast, but he fought to hold onto its threads, forced himself to face them rather than hide.

  He’d been back in the cell, chained to the wall. Like he’d never broken free all those years ago. He could smell the damp, the decay, his own fear. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel the scars that crisscrossed every inch of his body. He’d fought against the chains, like he did every day, but there was no give. The voice coming through the barred slot in the steel door had mocked him for even trying, telling him that he was worthless, weak, and dreaming about being somewhere else again. That was always the worst part of the dreams. Feeling like everything else was the dream, and that he’d never escaped.

  He wiped the sweat from his eyes and crossed to the balcony doors, throwing them wide to let the cooler air in. The city stared up at him as he looked down at it. He was miles and years away from what had happened. The scars had long healed. The owner of the taunting voice was long gone, torn apart by Snow’s claws and teeth. He’d torn the building apart brick by brick, too. Left nothing but rubble and dust.

  And yet I can’t escape the memories. He stretched his aching neck to one side, then the other. If he weren’t going to sleep, he’d do the next best thing. Some time in his wolf form would soothe his worries, at least temporarily.

  Like most shifters, he’d picked his home for a specific reason. While the city lay in front, behind lay trees and forest. And thanks to his private elevator to his own personal parking area under the building, as long as he was careful he could sneak in and out without a soul seeing him.

  He walked back into the apartment and closed the balcony doors behind him, then pulled his boxers off and headed to the elevator. The ride to the bottom floor was quick, but he shifted quicker than any other shifter out there. As soon as the doors closed, he hit the button and dropped to all fours.