Curves for Shifters

by Zoey Thames

  Jackson’s face stayed impassive, as if he hadn’t just called her out as being a spy. “Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

  As soon as the guard left, he turned to her again. She felt all the power of his alpha-ness coming at her in waves. It made part of her want to look away and submit, to stop challenging him. She crushed that feeling under a mental boot. He might be a Mirage client and Aaron’s guest tonight, but that didn’t mean she was part of his pack or that he had any right to act this way around her. Rude and imperious. She wondered what his mother would think of this kind of behavior.

  Before she could ask, Jackson spoke again. “It doesn’t matter if you like me or hate me. I’m not here to make you happy.”

  “I never asked for you to make me happy,” she replied through clenched teeth. “All I ever wanted to do was my job.”

  He paused for a long moment, watching her, seeming to really consider her words. “Fair enough. I respect that.” He hesitated again, and she could not, for the life of her, interpret the expression in his blue eyes. All she knew was that when he looked at her that way, it made her heart beat faster. The same way her heart went into overdrive when Aaron turned those intense eyes of his on her.

  Finally, Jackson offered his arm to her. His voice sounded almost contrite. “Please allow me to escort you to the meeting.”

  She scowled. “And is a little human like me allowed into your grand high meeting of shifters? I could be a spy for the CIA. Or the Russians. You should start respecting me as an action heroine.”

  His lips quirked a little. She suspected he was actually holding back a smile. Would wonders never cease? “I certainly believe you’re the most…interesting Mirage employee I’ve ever met. Now, will you do me the honor?”

  She almost refused. But she always believed in second chances. Except for her dirtbag ex-boyfriend who’d cheated on her and fired her. She had a feeling neither of these men, Aaron or even Jackson, would ever be such a…such a cad.

  She tentatively linked her arm through his.

  He appeared disproportionately pleased that she’d obeyed. That surprised her. As an alpha, he must’ve been used to people falling all over themselves doing whatever he wanted. But she didn’t owe him anything. Especially since he thought she was some kind of spy and he had practically kidnapped her. Couldn’t forget that.

  Well, kidnapped in a general sense…if she didn’t consider how she was being paid twenty thou by Aaron to attend.

  As they walked, she was very aware of how much taller he was and how firm his muscles were beneath his suit jacket. God, the man felt like a steel girder. He was just as built as Aaron was. They were both big men, powerful, and the cut of their designer suits showed off their broad shoulders and their thick legs. But there was something about touching that really brought it all home for a girl. When she held a man’s arm and it felt as if she was clutching a bowling ball, that was something else. Exciting, even a little scary. She bet he could pick her up and carry her up and down the stairs from ground floor to the top of this building without even breathing hard.

  They walked without talking down the corridors and out to the lobby. She thought he would leave her to wait there. Instead, he gently guided her through two wide, carved wooden doors into a small council chamber. The chamber looked like something she’d seen at the city council meetings back in the Connecticut town she’d grown up in.

  There were eleven men and women seated at a big, crescent-shaped table facing rows of auditorium seating. Five seated on the left, five on the right, and in the middle a man who looked to be in his middle thirties, a slash of silver along the sides of his brown hair. He was wearing a dark suit, dark shirt, chocolate tie. Even though the suit appeared designer, he also had tattoo designs peeking out from beneath his cuffs and from his shirt collar, up his neck. Actually, he looked more like he belonged in a motorcycle gang than up there with all the other men and women.

  Aaron stood at one podium to her right. His eyebrows went up in silent question when she entered alongside Jackson. She smiled at him, doing her best to hide the sudden onslaught of nerves plaguing her. Part of her wondered if this hadn’t been Jackson’s plan all along—to make Aaron jealous. She felt a blush creeping up on her face and neck, and she ruthlessly suppressed it. She was reading way too much into this, thinking Aaron was really interested in her to that degree. That he’d be jealous to see her escorted by Jackson.

  Jackson led her to the front row of seats, just behind where Aaron was standing. The rest of the chamber was largely empty. A couple of security guards. A handful of personal assistants, and a woman running something that looked like a soundboard. Probably some kind of sound engineer recording the minutes instead of using a transcriptionist.

  She took her seat, growing even more uneasy. All of the men and women on the council were looking at her curiously. They all exuded power and wealth. She had no doubt they were all important members of the shifter community. In fact, she vaguely recognized a few faces from the news.

  Jackson made his way over to another podium flanking Aaron’s podium and facing the council members. This whole setup vaguely reminded her of one of those court television shows where people presented their cases to a cranky, no-nonsense judge.

  “It is one thirty-seven a.m.,” the hard-looking man with the tattoos said into the microphone placed on the table surface in front of him. His voice echoed in the mostly empty chamber like the deep and commanding voice of some Greek god. “I am Chairman Gray. I call this emergency hearing to order.” He lifted a small, gold-banded gavel and banged it once.

  Michelle sat on her hands to keep them warm. Her hands always got cold when she was nervous. At first she’d thought this would be boring, like CSPAN or watching mold grow on a peach, but there was so much tension crackling in the air that she found herself leaning forward. She was ready to hear exactly why this disagreement between Aaron and Jackson was so important that she’d been abducted and brought to Chicago on the chance she might talk to the media.

  The man in the dark designer suit and the dark tats adjusted his microphone and spoke again. “For the record, a formal challenge was issued by Alpha Jackson Smith to Alpha Aaron Duval over territory. In accordance with shifter law, all formal challenges by a pack alpha must be handled in either arbitration with the council, the Way of Rule, or in personal combat, the Way of Dominance.” He nodded to Aaron. “Aaron Duval of Dark Howl Security, we’ve read the formal challenge issued by Jackson Smith of Alpha Protective Services. Now you may respond, if you would like.”

  Aaron hesitated and scowled Jackson’s way. But she thought the look in his eyes was balanced between anger and regret. “Thank you, Chairman Gray. This should never have come to this point. Things have been blown completely out of proportion. It is a simple business disagreement. Jackson was a co-founder of Dark Howl, but when he decided to leave our company, he sold me his shares and headed to California to set up his own security division. We had an agreement. He had the West Coast. I had the East. Now he wants to hunt for business in my territory. I told him no.” Aaron shrugged. “That’s where this formal challenge came from.”

  Gray nodded slowly, steepling his hands in front of his mouth and peering at first Aaron, then Jackson, with those intense hunter’s eyes. Michelle was glad the man wasn’t staring at her with those scary-eyes. He didn’t seem like someone to cross. In fact, all these werewolf alphas—and she was assuming he was a werewolf from the tribal wolf tattoo on the right side of his neck—were very intimidating customers when they got going. She usually dealt with them when they were out on the town, attending events and going to high society balls and parties or five-star restaurants. The rich and powerful paranormal creatures she usually chauffeured were generally in a good mood. But tonight she’d seen the other side of that coin. Powerful men at odds with each other. She wished they could all just sit down and chat it all out over a cup of tea and all the Nutella and Danish pastry they could eat.

  “Not
ed for the record,” Gray said, glancing at the sound tech over in the booth, who gave him a thumbs-up. “Now, Alpha Jackson Smith, did you have an agreement with Alpha Aaron Duval regarding the territory of your respective packs—or in this case, your shifter security business?”

  Michelle moved in her seat to better see Jackson. He did not appear fazed or intimidated in the least facing off against either Aaron or Gray. In fact, he looked like a poker player who held all the cards.

  “First, let me thank the council for this emergency meeting to arbitrate my formal challenge. That said, I won’t waste any more of our time with a bunch of lawyer talk blah blah blah. I’ll cut right to the chase. I am changing my challenge from a hearing to personal combat. Alpha against alpha. Me against Duval.” He turned to look straight at Aaron. “I’m invoking the Way of Dominance.”

  Michelle clenched her hands into fists. What on earth was that man doing? She’d thought they’d forged some kind of fragile connection when he’d escorted here. That maybe he wasn’t the bastard she’d thought he was when he accused her of being a spy and demanded she accompany them to Chicago. That everything might’ve been a misunderstanding. Okay, a crazy misunderstanding, but a misunderstanding all the same. But this… She didn’t want to see either of them arguing, much less tearing at each other in some kind of battle. She was shocked it was even an option.

  One of the women council members leaned close to her microphone, peering at Jackson from beneath a furrowed brow. “Why do you want to change this? You understand this is highly irregular…?”

  “This is the only way to resolve this once and for all, without political influence,” Jackson replied. “It is my right as an alpha by the old laws. We settle this with combat.”

  “Is that why you wanted to have this hearing here in Chicago?” Aaron demanded, his voice full of threat. “Not to stand before the council, but to take advantage of their arena?”

  Jackson’s face was still, expressionless. His voice was cold. “You left me no choice. You’ve never left me any choice.”

  Michelle had to force herself not to shout something to the council about not letting two mule-headed men behave like…well, mule-headed men. Somebody could get hurt. She was a pacifist. She didn’t want to see this kind of thing.

  If she’d only remembered her good luck charm, this whole absurd chain of events would never have happened in the first place. When she got back to her limo in New York, she was going to turn that good luck charm into a necklace and never take it off, not even in the shower. But Jackson’s words about Aaron never leaving him any choice, that sounded like baggage. That sounded like drama. If only these two incredibly hot, incredibly dense meatheads would sit down and talk to one another, she knew they could sort it out.

  Because of that kiss.

  That panty-melting kiss. And she hadn’t even been the one being kissed!

  Gray finally responded. “I believe this is a mistake. We haven’t had anyone invoke that rule in at least six years. But we do have the arena, per the old pack laws. And it is your right as an alpha to invoke that law against another alpha when territory is on the line.” He looked unhappy though, as if he wanted to wash his hands of this whole thing. “Let the record show I am not pleased about skipping the arbitration phase.” His voice rumbled with a low growl of threat and power. “Not at all pleased.”

  If Jackson was worried about angering the powerful-looking man, he didn’t show it. “This is the old way.” He glanced at Aaron and the tone of his voice changed to mildly curious as he asked, “Tell me, Aaron. Do you have the stones for this?”

  “You know I do,” Aaron replied, his voice clipped.

  Jackson actually laughed…and the sound was almost…happy? She almost fell over at that one. Holy shit, the man might not be the emotionless cyborg from the future she’d suspected he was. Of course, he was still crazy.

  “One more thing,” Jackson said, and he turned to look straight at her. “I want Michelle Ross to decide the victor if the fight goes to a decision.”

  If she’d been standing, she knew her knees would’ve given out at that one. All eyes in the room turned to rest on her. She could feel the heavy weight of all those stares and she thought it might just crush her flat. For one moment, the room whirled around her, and she feared she’d end up being sick right here in front of all these people. They’d probably enter it into the official record transcript. Right next to her name would be the word: “Blergh.” That was the sound she made when she had the stomach flu and nothing would stay down.

  Fucking blergh.

  It took all her strength to push herself to her feet. She sucked in a breath. It was as if she were trying to suck clam chowder through a straw. Her voice came out as a squeak. Where was all her fire and lip now? It was gone. Probably best in a room full of irritated alpha wolves.

  “No,” was what she said.

  There was absolute silence following her word.

  Then Mr. Gray banged his gavel so hard it broke in half and went flying.

  “Another one, James?” Mrs. Bickford said, arching one of those thin eyebrows. Michelle had the crazy thought that she must spend a lot of time in front of the mirror with tweezers to get her eyebrows that trim and narrow, especially as a werewolf. She bit her lip to keep from braying laughter. How would she explain it if she started laughing right now? That she was hysterically giggling at the thought of werewolf cosmetic tips? They’d think her insane.

  Gray tossed the handle of the gavel over his shoulder and stared at Michelle. His eyes were fierce, intense, but also kind. “The council has heard our guest Michelle Ross’s preference. Let it be entered into the record.”

  Only then did she finally risk a look at Jackson. Her heart was beating very fast. Her hands were shaking, so she kept them behind her back. Jackson was watching her, his expression blank.

  Mr. Gray stood, followed by the rest of the council. “As Alpha Jackson Smith has changed the nature of his formal challenge to a physical contest, this hearing is closed. His request to have Michelle Ross pick the winner has been declined by Ms. Ross. Therefore, I will make the judgment, and it will be binding. I hereby call this council hearing to an end.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Aaron sat on the bench in the locker room, leaning forward, staring at his clenched hands. In just a little bit they would come for him. He’d go to the arena. He’d fight with Jackson in a no-holds-barred, full contact battle, first as wolves, then as men. To think that Jackson would’ve chosen this himself. To set them against each other in this way.

  How had things reached this point? After that kiss they’d shared, he’d felt the old passion flaring back to life. God, he’d been hard as a rock, and he’d known Jackson had been the same. Why hadn’t they been able to work things out? Jackson had been his mate once. They had been strong together.

  Now he had to fight the man he once loved. The man he suspected he still loved. Damn it. He jumped from the bench and landed a rapid blow in the middle of one of the metal lockers. His large fist left a deep dent in the metal. He welcomed the pain. It matched the pain in his heart.

  “Did you forget the combination?” a small, feminine voice asked from behind him. “I think if you ask the janitor, he’ll unlock it for you. Easier than smashing it open.”

  He turned to see Michelle standing at the end of the room, where the short corridor entered the locker room. His heart leaped at the sight of her and shook off some of the shadow and sorrows that had been shrouding it.

  His eyebrow shot up as he eyed her, feeling a smile curve his lips. “You do have a talent for showing up in the middle of drama,” he said, thinking of the kiss she’d interrupted on the plane. It seemed as if it had happened days ago. “But this is between me…and this locker.”

  She giggled and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, he saw tears in them.

  “I ruined this for you,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

  H
e smiled gently and shook his head. Seeing those tears made his heart clench in pain. Damn you, Jackson. Damn you for doing this to all of us. “Our problems go way back, Michelle. You aren’t the cause.”

  She watched him with those big brown eyes. She was biting her bottom lip. Those full lips. The sight was so damn sexy, it stirred not only his cock, but something deep in his chest. And in his wolf. But with those tears in her eyes, his heart and soul only wanted to comfort her. To tell her everything was fine. To bring that smile he loved back to her lips.

  “No, it’s true,” she continued after a long moment of holding his gaze. “When I barged in on your kiss. If I hadn’t been so…so headstrong and stupid, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Now he was the one who hesitated, watching her and turning his thoughts back to that moment. Was she right? Had her accidental interruption been what set Jackson on this mad road, so that they were going to be at each other’s throats in minutes? He couldn’t imagine the Jackson he knew being so petty.

  But what if there was something else involved? Something deeper. Was Jackson jealous? Was he afraid that Aaron had feelings for this pretty human with her warm smile, for that fire he saw flare up in her at times, for how she filled that uniform out in all kinds of sexy ways?

  His wolf growled a word-concept in his mind.

  Mate.

  His thoughts reeled, the full effect finally sinking in. If his wolf thought of her as his mate…and thought of Jackson as his mate… Well, that meant his wolf was one greedy, horny son of a bitch.

  He was not a stranger to a threesome relationship. There had been women who’d been willing back when he and Jackson had been getting Dark Howl off the ground. Those had been fun times. A woman was a perfect complement to their muscles, to their edges and power and force. A woman was so soft and warm and smelled so divine. But none of those women had formed the third angle of their triangle, if he could dredge something out of the high school geometry he’d mostly slept through. But he could sense things were different with Michelle. Right from the start she’d had the same effect on him that Jackson had when they’d first met.