Bad Wolf

by Jennifer Ashley

  The big man gave her his polite nod and walked past her with an even stride, the black denim coat he always wore brushing jeans that hugged the most gorgeous butt Addie had seen in all her days. Because this diner’s clientele had plenty of farmers, utility workers, and bikers just passing through, she’d seen her fair share of not-so-good backsides in jeans … or slipping inappropriately above waistbands.

  Her man was different. His behind was worth a second, third, and fourth look. He was tall but not lanky, his build that of a linebacker in fine training, his shoulders and chest stretching his black T-shirt. The footwear under the blue jeans was always either gray cowboy boots or black motorcycle boots. Tonight, it was the motorcycle boots, supple leather hugging his ankles.

  And, as always, Addie’s man carried the sword. He kept it wrapped in dark cloth, a long bundle he held in his hand and tucked beside his seat when he sat down and ordered. At first Addie had thought the bundle held a gun—a rifle or shotgun—and she’d had to tell him that the owner, Bo, didn’t allow firearms of any kind in his diner. She’d lock it up for him if he wanted while he ate. They had a special locker for the hunters who were regulars.

  The man had shot her a quizzical look from his incredibly sexy green eyes, pulled back the cloth, and revealed the hilt of a sword.

  A sword, for crap’s sake. A big one, with a silver hilt. Addie had swallowed hard and said that maybe it was okay if he kept it down beside his chair. He’d given her a curt nod and covered the hilt back up.

  But that was just him. He was like no man Addie had ever met in her life. His eyes were an incredible green she couldn’t look away from once he caught her with a gaze. The eyes went with his hard face, which had been knocked around in his life, but he still managed to be handsome enough to turn the head of whatever woman happened to be in this late. Which, most nights, was only Addie.

  His hair, though, was the weirdest thing. It was white, like a Scandinavian white-blond, but striped with black. As though he’d gone in for a dye job one day and left it half finished. Or maybe he simply liked the look.

  Except, Addie would swear it was natural. Dyes always left an unusual sheen or looked brittle after a while. His hair glistened under the lights, each strand soft, weaving with the others in a short cut that suited his face. Addie often studied his head as he bent over his pie, and she’d clutch her apron to keep from reaching out and running her fingers through his interesting hair.

  In sum—this man was hotter than a Texas wind on a dry summer day. Addie could feel the sultry heat when she was around him. At least, she sure started to sweat whenever she looked at him.

  For the last month or so, he’d come in every night near to closing time, order the last pieces of banana cream pie and the apple pie with streusel and eat while Addie locked the door and went through her rituals for the night. When Bo arrived through the back door, the man would go out the front, taking his sword … and the other things he always brought.

  They came in now, walking behind him as always, three little boys, the oldest one following the two younger ones. The oldest one’s name was Robbie, and he brought up the rear, looking around as though guarding his two little brothers with his life.

  “Hello, Robbie,” Addie said. “Brett, Zane. How are you tonight?”

  The two littlest would chorus Fine, but Robbie only gave her a polite nod, mimicking his father. If he was Robbie’s father. The youngest ones did have the man’s green eyes and white-and-black hair, but Robbie didn’t look like any of them. He had dark brown hair and eyes that were gray—a striking-looking kid, but Addie figured he wasn’t related to the others. Adopted maybe, or a nephew. Whatever, the guy looked after all three with protective fierceness, not letting anyone near them.

  They took four stools at the counter, as usual. Robbie sat on the seat farthest from the door, Zane and Brett perched in the next two seats, with their dad next to them, his bulk between them and whoever might enter the diner. These seats were also not in front of the diner’s windows, but at the very end of the counter, almost in the hall to the bathrooms.

  Addie took up the coffeepot and poured a cup of fully caffeinated brew for black-and-white guy and three ice waters for the boys. She’d offered them cokes when they first came in, but their dad didn’t like them having sugared drinks.

  Considering how much pie they put away, Addie didn’t blame him. Sweet sodas on top of that would have them wired to the gills all night.

  “You almost missed the pie,” Addie said to the boys as she set the dripping glasses of water on the counter. “We had a run on it today. But I saved you back a few pieces in the fridge.” She winked at them. “I’ll just run and get them. That’s three banana creams and an apple streusel, right?”

  She looked into the father’s green eyes, and stopped.

  She’d never seen him look at her like that. There was a hunger in his gaze, powerful and intense. He skewered her with it, and Addie looked back at him, her mouth open, her heart constricting before it started pounding.

  Men had looked at her with suggestion before, but they’d always accompanied it with a half-amused smile as though laughing at themselves or telling Addie she’d have a great time if she conceded.

  This was different. Black-and-white man studied her with a wanting that was palpable, as though any second he’d climb over the counter and come at her.

  After a second, he blinked, and the look was gone. He hadn’t intended her to catch him.

  The blink showed Addie something else. Behind the interest, his eyes held great distraction and deep worry.

  Something had happened tonight, some reason he’d come here going on five minutes late.

  Addie knew better than to ask him if everything was all right. He wouldn’t answer. The man was not one for casual conversation. The boys talked, but kept their answers general. They had not betrayed with one word where they were from, where they went to school, what they liked to do for fun, or why their dad kept them up this late every night.

  Addie simply gave them all her smile, said, “I’ll be right back,” and ducked into the kitchen to fetch the pie she’d held back for them.

  She took out pieces, already sliced on their plates, and sprinkled a little extra cocoa powder on the banana cream ones from the dented shaker on the shelf.

  The guy who washed dishes—Bo went through a new one about every two weeks—wasn’t there. He liked to ducked out for a smoke right at closing time, coming back in when Bo got there to finish the cleanup. Addie hummed, alone in the kitchen, her pulse still high from that look black-and-white man had given her.

  If Addie marched out there and said to him, sure, she was interested—in a discreet way in front of his kids—would he break down and tell her his name?

  Or would he take her somewhere and make love to her with silent strength, the same way he walked and ate? Would Addie mind that?

  She pictured him above her in the dark, his green eyes on her while she ran her hands all over his tight, beautiful body.

  Nope, she wouldn’t mind that at all.

  She picked up two pieces of pie, still humming. At the same time, she heard a scratching at the back door.

  Bo? Addie set down the pie and walked over. Bo always used his key to get in—they kept the back door locked. Even in this small town that was pretty safe, robbers passing through might seize an opportunity.

  Bo often couldn’t get his key into the lock—his hands shook with a palsy that ran in his family. The dishwasher often had to help him, or Addie would open the door for him.

  Bo was a bit early, but he was sometimes. Addie reached for the door, just as something banged into it.

  “Bo? You okay?” Addie unlocked the deadbolt, carefully pulled the door open, and peeked out.

  The door fell inward, a heavy weight on it. Addie looked down.

  A curious detachment came over her as she saw the dishwasher, a guy of about thirty with greasy brown hair and beard stubble. He was dead, his brown eyes starin
g sightlessly. She knew he was dead because he had a gaping red hole where his heart used to be.

  If this had been a movie, Addie would be screaming, fainting, sobbing, saying Oh, my God, or running outside crying, Somebody, help!

  Instead, she stood there, as though caught in treacle, unable to move, think, talk, or even breathe.

  A faint noise sounded outside, and Addie raised her head. She saw the round muzzle of a gun, one of the automatic ones that shot however many rounds a minute. Her breath poured back into her lungs, burning, and she knew she was looking at her own death.

  A rush of air passed her, and the door slammed closed. At the same time a pair of strong arms closed around her, propelling her to the floor, the man with black-and-white hair landing on top of her.

  In the front of the diner, every window shattered as bullets fired through it. Glass flew through the open pass between kitchen and dining area, as did bullets, shards of cups and plates, tatters of napkins.

  The kids, Addie thought in panic. Where were the boys?

  There they were, huddled against the door to the freezer. How the man had gotten them in here so fast and out of sight and then come for Addie. she didn’t know, but her body went limp with relief to see them.

  “Who’s doing this?” Addie squeaked. “What—”

  The man clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I need to you to be very quiet, all right?”

  End of Excerpt

  Books by Jennifer Ashley

  Shifters Unbound Series

  Pride Mates

  Primal Bonds

  Bodyguard

  Wild Cat

  Hard Mated

  Mate Claimed

  Perfect Mate (novella)

  Lone Wolf

  Tiger Magic

  Feral Heat

  Wild Wolf

  Bear Attraction

  Mate Bond

  Lion Eyes

  Bad Wolf

  White Tiger

  Shifter Made (short story "prequel")

  And more to come!

  Riding Hard

  Adam

  Grant

  Carter

  Tyler

  Ross

  Kyle

  Ray

  Immortals Series

  The Calling (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Darkening (by Robin Popp)

  The Awakening (by Joy Nash)

  The Gathering (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Redeeming (by Jennifer Ashley)

  The Crossing (by Joy Nash)

  The Haunting (by Robin Popp)

  Blood Debt (by Joy Nash)

  Wolf Hunt (by Jennifer Ashley)

  Stormwalker Series

  (w/a Allyson James)

  Stormwalker

  Firewalker

  Shadow Walker

  “Double Hexed”

  Nightwalker

  Dreamwalker (forthcoming)

  “A Little Night Magic”

  in Hot for the Holidays

  (short story “prequel”—Jamison and Naomi’s story)

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Ashley has written more than 75 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, and mystery under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley Gardner. Her books have been nominated for and won Romance Writers of America's RITA (given for the best romance novels and novellas of the year), several RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice awards (including Best Urban Fantasy, Best Historical Mystery, and Career Achievement in Historical Romance), and Prism awards for her paranormal romances. Jennifer's books have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have earned starred reviews in Booklist. When she’s not writing, Jennifer enjoys reading, hiking, playing guitar, and building dollhouses and dollhouse miniatures.

  More about Jennifer’s books and series can be found at

  http://www.jenniferashley.com

  Or email Jennifer at jenniferashley@cox.net

  Bad Wolf

  Shifters Unbound, Book 7.5

  Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Ashley

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Excerpt of White Tiger (Shifters Unbound, Book 8), Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Ashley

  Cover design by Kim Killion