Ready to Were

by Robyn Peterman

  “The files were very thorough,” I choked out as I breezed past him into his office. Blindly sitting on the first thing my butt could find, I realized I was perched on a pile of old newspapers. Nice.

  “You comfortable?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Extremely, thank you.” I’d be damned if I was going to let on that I hadn’t meant to slap my rear end down on a large stack of paper. “Newspapers are good for posture and lower back,” I mumbled and then bit down on my tongue before I spewed out more inane crap. Why did I let him affect me this way? I was over him. Done. Over and done.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “So, thoughts?” He settled in behind his desk and waited.

  “About?” I asked politely, hoping desperately I’d not uttered any of my incriminating inner monologue aloud.

  “The case?” He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

  His words were like an ice cold shower. Thank God. The case. I could handle talking business. I was good at that. It was everything else I had problems with.

  “The files are good, but why is there very little about the humans running the agency?”

  He paused and gave me a smile that resembled a grimace. “They’re not local. Three human males came in from New York and we’re having a hell of a time tracing them.”

  “Have you put them in the WTF database?”

  “Yep. They’re drawing blanks too.”

  “Interesting and not good,” I said as I pulled out the thinnest file and scanned it. “The bodies haven’t been found and the scent trails disappeared. I find that very difficult to believe. How much of a time lapse was there before the searches started?”

  “The first victim was three days,” he said tightly and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “After that it was immediate once we learned they were missing.”

  “And you found nothing?”

  “Isn’t that obvious, Miss Hotshot?” he snapped. “This is driving me crazier than you sitting across the desk from me. These are my people and I’m supposed to protect them. I can’t even find them,” he bellowed. His concern for our missing Pack members and his fury at being unable to locate them filled the room.

  I was simply being professional, but felt like a jerk. Again, I was reminded that I was on a case with huge conflicts of interest. Maintaining distance and objectivity were going to be difficult—knowing the missing women was hard enough. Working with the person who my inner wolf was convinced was her true mate was pure hell.

  Wolves could mate with whomever they wanted. Some lasted and some didn’t. We had long lives and overactive sex drives. If you didn’t find your true mate, a fairy tale I tended to not believe, you often had several relationships during a lifetime.

  True mates belonged together…supposedly. If they had crossed paths, even as children, they would never be happy with someone else. Which proved my theory that Hank wasn’t my true mate. If he had been, he couldn’t have cheated on me. It was a virtual, medical and erectile impossibility for a male Were to cheat on his true mate. Junior was full of crap. There was no way in hell Hank the Tank wasn’t getting some. He was the most over-sexed Were I knew…not that I knew about any other Weres sex lives. I’d only ever been with the smug buttknuckle who was staring at me. I was pathetic. I just needed to get back out there. It was beside the point that I hadn’t dated or even shown a modicum of interest in anyone since I’d left him…but I’d been busy. Extremely busy. Becoming a killing machine for WTF had been a ton of work and then I…

  “Look,” Hank said, thankfully cutting my ridiculous thought process short. “I don’t want you here because it’s not safe. As much as I want to take you over my knee and spank the hell out of you for leaving, I don’t think I could go on if something happened to you. So you will report your every move to me or I will be on you so fast it will hurt. Do you understand?”

  “Do you understand that I’ve done things far more dangerous than this?” I shot back, ignoring the fact that the spanking thing was kind of a turn-on.

  “Considering we don’t know what we’re dealing with that’s a bold and risky statement to make.” He crossed over to me and obliterated my personal space. Short of straddling the newspapers in a miniskirt to back off of them I was stuck. I hated being wrong, but I was smart enough to admit when I was. Cocky got you killed. I had no plans to die anytime in the near future.

  “Fine,” I said and tried to push him away to little avail. “That was stupid and arrogant. I will go into this carefully and I will take as few risks as possible. As far as constant communication…I’ll do my best, but you have to let me do my job.”

  “What exactly do you plan on doing?” he demanded. The thick muscles in his neck were taut and I knew it was taking everything he had not to run my Wolfy ass out of town.

  “I plan to fly by the seat of my pants,” I explained logically as his jaw clenched along with his fists. “Since we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with yet, I can’t give you solids. However, I do promise if it looks dangerous I won’t go in without backup.”

  “I call bullshit.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve gone into situations four times in the last year without backup. The last time you were almost killed.”

  “Do I look dead to you?” I hissed. He had some nerve. I’d done all that because lives were at stake. Twice it had been children’s lives.

  “You were lucky—and luck runs out.”

  “I beg to differ, butthole.” Damn it, butthole made me sound like an incompetent child. I should have said asshole… “Luck had nothing to do with it. I’m skilled and I made all of those sons of bitches hurt bad. And how in the hell do you know all this?” I barked.

  “Essie, I am always aware of what belongs to me.”

  “Well, as lovely as that is,” I sneered, “I don’t belong to you. I belong to me and me alone. You need to move before I introduce your nuts to my fist. I’d use my knee on your man bits, but I’m wearing a miniskirt and I refuse to flash my goodies at you. I did my research and wore something model-y because that’s how I roll. Plus, I’m more apt to get the gig if I flash some leg and tit. So move. Now.”

  Hank yanked me to my feet and flush against his hard body. “You will wear a wire.”

  Gritting my teeth and forbidding myself to rub all over him like a cat in heat, I nodded curtly.

  “I will wear a wire.”

  “Lift your shirt and unbutton that scrap of material you call a skirt,” he instructed.

  “Not on your life.”

  He gave me a lazy grin and shrugged. “Fine. Can you wire yourself?”

  “Of course,” I snapped. How hard could it be to hide a damn wire? I snatched the pack from his hand and went to work. He stepped back and watched with interest.

  I shoved the pack down the back of my panties and clipped it. I then wound the wire around my body with shaking hands. I eased the cord and mic under my bra and attached it to my bra cup.

  “Done,” I said triumphantly.

  “Look in the mirror.”

  I glanced over at my reflection and realized someone would have to be blind not to know I was wearing a wire. Crapcrapcrap. It was a mess.

  Sucking in a huge breath and remembering why I was actually here, I gave in. “Help me.”

  “Please?” He gave me the sexiest evil grin and cocked his head to the right.

  “Please,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  “My pleasure. Lift your shirt and unbutton your skirt.”

  I did.

  His warm calloused hands on my bare skin as he readjusted the wire and taped it to my body were a mixture of heaven and hell. His clean sexy scent invaded my nose and I held my breath. It was all I could do to not turn around, slam him to the ground and have my way with him.

  “I need to move the pack lower,” he said gruffly and slid his hands into the back of my panties.

  We both froze and I gasped. Air hissed from between his lips and it burned my
neck. A small fire had ignited low in my belly and began to travel quickly through me. His hand slid down and cupped my bare ass and his head dropped to my shoulder. His lips grazed my neck and I shuddered. I was quite sure this wasn’t a normal cop procedure, but I couldn’t bring myself to make him stop. It was the first time I’d felt alive in a year and I hated that he made me feel this way. My gums ached and I knew my fangs were very close to the surface. His had arrived and I felt them scrape my skin.

  “You have to stop,” I begged, but did nothing to make him. If I wasn’t mistaken, and I wasn’t, I was fairly sure I’d readjusted so my butt was more firmly in his hand. What was wrong with me?

  “Do you really want me to?” he whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine and my girlie parts into a tailspin. God, if he kept talking I would come apart by his voice alone. He had that sexy Werewolf magic thing down pat.

  I nodded my head yes, afraid that my mouth would tell him to bend me over his desk and make me see Jesus.

  “You have no idea how hard it is, pun intended, for me to let you go right now…but I will. We have to find out what is happening to our people and end it, but this conversation is far from over. Do you understand me?”

  I nodded again, terrified that I was going to beg for a quickie before I went out and kicked some ass.

  He slowly slid his hand from my panties and my body felt bereft. I may have nodded yes, but the rest of this conversation was never going to happen. He already had my broken heart. I’d given it to him years ago. There was no way in hell he was going to take my pride.

  “Your appointment is in fifteen minutes. You’ll meet me for lunch afterward. Everyone in town believes we’re back together.”

  One last time I nodded, afraid if I spoke I might cry. I stared at him for a long moment. His strength and power were evident in every move he made. At one point in time I basked in it, but now I just admired it from afar. He was a force of nature—a true alpha. I worried for a brief moment that if he couldn’t find our people that I might not be able to either, but I pushed that thought aside. I might be a screw-up in life, but I was damn good at finding trouble…it came to me. And now because I was prepared I could destroy it—and I would.

  I walked slowly toward Hank. His quick intake of breath brought a small smile to my lips. He was right. Who knew what I was getting into? Today might be my last and I wanted to do one small thing, just in case. He stood as still as a statue as I pressed my lips to his. I breathed in his masculine scent and I was home. It was just too damn bad his lips liked other necks and chests and asses. But for one brief moment I pretended he was still mine.

  I pulled back and moved to leave.

  “The conversation is not over, Essie,” he warned.

  I turned and walked away. There was little else I could do.

  Chapter 7

  The agency was on Main Street next to the cozy used bookstore that I had practically lived in as a kid. The sense of home I felt in this little sleepy town made my heart thump painfully. However, this was no longer my home. I had left by choice and I would leave again. Glancing around, I zeroed in on the modeling agency. Damn, it was ugly. Models Mania was sleek and modern and didn’t fit into my charming town at all. The name was beyond stupid too. I let go of my attitude, hunkered down in my smelly car and reviewed what I knew.

  It was run by three human males from New York: Peter Pyre, Paul Tinder and Puck Flare. The names were bizarre and slightly unfortunate. I had concluded that they were aliases since we couldn’t trace them. They clearly thought they were hot, considering they all had forms of fire as their surnames. I bit back a groan and read on.

  There was no indication that the Three Ps knew that shifters existed, but I didn’t buy it. No human women had gone missing and I didn’t believe it was a coincidence. It was risky to imply that the Council, since they had backed the agency, had let the humans in on our secret, but the evidence was pointing that way.

  It appeared that the missing girls had been recruited. Did the humans recruit them or did the Council? I flipped through the file and found nothing. I quickly texted Granny and told her to call around and find out the buzz on the recruiting. She texted back that she would get on it after she and Dwayne finished a round of paintball. She promised to have some info at lunch. I hoped to hell they’d at least gone out to the deserted beach to shoot each other with paint, but my expectation was that they were attacking each other in broad daylight in the quaint confines of her neighborhood. So much for no arrests…

  The agency looked empty, but I had an appointment in five minutes. I grabbed a cup and filled it with water from a bottle I found under the seat. I hoped to come out of there with some fingerprints on it.

  Checking my makeup in the rearview mirror, I was satisfied. The fact that I could pass for a model didn’t thrill me. My looks were inherited. Actually, most Shifters were pretty people. While being attractive had gotten in the way occasionally during training, it certainly came in handy today. I pushed up my boobs, hiked up my skirt, checked my wire and went into battle.

  “Hello,” I called out in the darkened office. It was obsessively neat and smelled odd. I couldn’t place it. I wandered to the counter and examined the stack of beauty products. I found the culprit—self tanner. It had the strangest odor. I slipped one in my purse and took a seat on the white leather settee.

  “Be right with you,” a rough male voice called from the back.

  The sound of a woman giggling in the back room made my stomach lurch. I recognized the laugh and I had to breathe deeply to keep my claws from coming out. Literally. I despised the owner of the laugh. Damn it, if one of them was back there, I’d bet money all three were. Of course they were here. They were beautiful on the outside, even if they were nasty evil home wreckers. Whoa, Nelly. Hank had a choice. It took two to tango, or in their case, four. I might hate them, but if it hadn’t been them, he would have most certainly fooled around with someone else. Maybe I should thank them…nope, that was never going to happen. I could have mated with him and found out what a cheating dog he was after the fact. As much as I wanted to shift into my wolf and tear those girls apart, they had actually done me a favor.

  “What’s she doing here?” a nasal voice demanded. “I didn’t give her an appointment.”

  I was right, it was Tina #1 and she was not pleased to see me. She was one of three. They were all named Tina and they had all had a hand in ruining my life. She’d clearly moved on from Hank because she was draped over a large attractive man like a barnacle.

  Large Man shoved Tina #1 off of him and stepped forward with his hand extended and a slick smile on his pretty face. “Please excuse the help — it’s difficult to find subordinates with manners these days. I’m Puck Flare, owner and talent coordinator of the agency. It’s lovely to meet you. You must be Essie McGee.”

  Tina #1 positively seethed. As delighted as I was with the way he shot her down, it was also appalling. Not to mention it stymied me why she would let a mere human treat her so poorly. She was a Werewolf and we rarely mixed with humans in a romantic or sexual way.

  “I am.” An unexplainable feeling of uneasiness shot through me as I extended my hand. I plastered on a smile that I prayed didn’t look fake and took his hand in mine. He felt a bit cool for a human, but he was definitely human.

  “I do believe we could book you on some very big jobs.” He circled me like I was a car he was considering.

  “Great. That’s great,” I masked my unease and jumped up and down a bit to appear as vapid as possible. Tina #1 hissed and narrowed her eyes.

  “Tina, don’t you have work to do?” Puck snapped.

  She nodded meekly and went to the back room.

  “Sorry about that, my dear,” he said. “She wants to model, but she’s a bit too short. Let’s have you fill out some paperwork and then we’ll take some Polaroids for your file. Do you have a head shot or a portfolio?”

  “Um, no…I’ve just always thought this might be fu
n and I’m into travel and being in magazines,” I gushed.

  “That’s wonderful. You’re available to travel? No jealous boyfriends or silly little day jobs to speak of?”

  “Nope. Free and clear. No job and definitely no boyfriend,” I said, and wondered what Hank thought about my answer. I knew he was listening through an earpiece at the station. “Can I ask a few questions, Mr. Flare?”

  “Of course, and please call me Puck.”

  “Sure, um…Puck. What kind of jobs could I book with you? And what’s the pay?”

  “Dear girl, for someone with your looks and body, the sky is the limit.”

  He made me feel dirty and I was positive he was involved with the missing girls, but I had no clue how or why. I giggled and searched my repertoire for something girlie and flirty…I unconsciously did the Dwayne hair flick over my shoulder and almost burst out laughing. Concentrating hard, I held back my eye roll and the strong need to call Puck something that rhymed with his name and ended in “er”.

  “Wow,” I cooed and did a little shimmy. “That’s the total bomb! When do I start?”

  He chuckled and bought my vapid enthusiasm hook, line, and sinker. “We’ll start tomorrow. However, you’re a bit pale,” he said as he walked to the mountain of beauty products on the counter. “How about you do a little self tanner tonight so your shots tomorrow will be as sexy as you are.”

  “Oh Puck,” I gasped and tossed my hair like an imbecile. “You’re such a charmer.”

  “I do my best.” He covertly began to flex his muscles and it was all I could do not to throw up in my mouth. “You need to cover your entire body, if you know what I mean.” He gave me a smarmy smile and winked.

  ‘Ohhhhhh, that’s hot,” I cooed.

  He handed me the paperwork and I posed for a few Polaroid shots.

  “Well, that’s about it for now, dear.”

  Dangit, I needed more info from the pervert…

  “What about the others?” I asked as I pulled out my phone.

  “What others?” he asked, alarmed.

  “The other owners. Don’t they have to approve me too?” I asked innocently as he visibly relaxed.