Thanks Fur Last Night - Exclusive Sampler

by Eve Langlais

  “Wait, stop, please,” a voice hollered out as another man rounded the corner at a dead run and wedged in between her rescuer and the shifting man on the ground. “He’s my brother. Let me calm him and we can fix this,” the frazzled man said as he turned to face the shifting angry freak.

  “Trey, stop. Don’t shift, return to your body now.” The seconds ticked by as Josilyn stared at the men and the insanity before her. “Trey, now. I’m not going to tell you again.” The man barked out in sharp command. Slowly the shifting man’s features returned to the look of the psychotic man who had dragged her into the alley.

  The stranger turned and faced her rescuer again. “I’m sorry. It was a misunderstanding. He wasn’t supposed to be away from us; he slipped by.”

  Josie had heard enough. This was the kind of shit she tried to stay away from. She had somewhere to be and as much as she wanted to thank her knight in shining Armani suit, she needed to meet her new boss.

  No matter the circumstances, being late was not a good idea. Especially if she wanted to ensure this job and the money she so desperately needed. She climbed to her feet and quickly walked to the woman at the entrance to the alley while the men’s attention was turned from her.

  “Can you tell your husband I said thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened.” The woman opened her mouth to respond, but Josie didn’t have time to talk. “I have to go. I’m late. Thank you again,” Josilyn said as she hurried to the entrance of Ricardo’s. With one final glance at the man who had saved her, she entered the restaurant and left thoughts of his intense golden eyes behind.

  Ricardo’s hadn’t changed much since the last time she had been there. The hostess looked up with a smile as Josie approached. “I’m meeting somewhere, but I’m not sure if he’s here yet.”

  “Of course, no problem.” The hostess frowned while staring at Josie’s face. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are you okay? You have a nasty red mark on your face that looks like it’s starting to bruise.”

  Josie tenderly touched her swollen cheek and winced. “It’s nothing, but thank you.”

  The hostess gave her a unconvinced nod. “May I ask the gentleman’s name?”

  “Xander Ursi.” It was easy to recall such a manly name. Different. For some reason, saying it gave her goose bumps.

  “Oh yes, he said he was expecting someone. He stepped out to handle something a little while ago, but said he’d be back. I can show you to his table.”

  Josie sighed in relief she hadn’t left him waiting. She needed this job too much to screw things up thanks to some deranged shifter lunatic. She thanked the hostess, sat, and waited for her fake mate to show up. With any luck, he would be as mouthwateringly gorgeous as the man who had come to her aid in the alley.

  A tiny sigh escaped her throat. Damn, good time to think of that man’s good looks. She could sit and stare at him for hours and never get tired of it. What a shame a man like that wasn’t the one needing to hire her. His girlfriend was proof of that.

  She had been sophisticated and beautiful, and curvy. That at least gave Josie hope she would find a man to look at her the way her rescuer had for that brief moment.

  Alpha and I

  Kate Baxter

  Chapter One

  Fat, wet snowflakes flew toward the windshield like tiny white missiles in the glow of the headlights. Highway 21 wasn’t a picnic to drive when the weather was good, but tonight’s blizzard was enough to make Devon Kincaid wish she’d slept on the cot she kept in the storage closet at the bar. Her Jeep’s windshield wipers were working overtime to keep the window clear and the fan blasted hot air throughout the tiny cab to keep the chill of the wind at bay. Buying a soft top might have been one of the worst decisions of her life. Okay, maybe not the worst, but it was definitely up there in the top ten.

  The storm made it tough to make out anything in her periphery, but Devon kept her eyes peeled for any sign of wildlife. Deer and elk usually littered the sides of the highway, and even though she was certain any herds in the area would be hunkered down to wait out the storm, she wasn’t taking any chances. The Jeep’s boxy frame made it squirrelly as hell on the snow-covered road. If she had to swerve to miss a doe darting across the road, she’d be toast. She kept a death grip on the steering wheel as she counted down the miles to home.

  Why in God’s name had she thought it was a good idea to buy a bar and move a million miles away from civilization? Oh, right, because her piece of shit ex didn’t know the meaning of a restraining order and he thought it was totally acceptable to stalk her until she’d had no choice but to move two states away.

  A flash of motion in her headlights caught Devon’s attention and even though she knew better, she slammed her foot down on the brake pedal. The Jeep fishtailed and adrenaline dumped into her system as she steered into the skid to keep from sliding off the road. She eased her foot off the brake and pumped the pedal rather than applying constant pressure. The four inches of wet snow on the unplowed highway sucked her tires to the right but she managed to keep the Jeep upright and on the road. Her limbs quaked with unspent energy and her heart hammered against her rib cage. Stars swam in Devon’s vision as she tried to slow her rapid breaths and brought the Jeep to a stop on the side of the highway.

  “Damn,” she said on a shaky exhale. Had it been her imagination or had something seriously just flown across the road in front of her? What in hell was that thing?

  Devon put the Jeep in park and dug a flashlight out of the emergency roadside box she kept in the back. Apparently, tonight was a night for bad decisions because against her better judgment, she turned on the emergency flashers, pulled on her gloves, and climbed out of the Jeep. The wind whipped the strands of her hair not held in place by her beanie around her face and shoulders. Snow pricked her cheeks like tiny needles and she turned away to let her back take the brunt of the storm.

  Midnight. In the middle of a blizzard. With nothing more than a flashlight and looking for something that could very well have been a figment of her imagination. Devon gave a shake of her head. What she needed to do was get her butt back in the Jeep and get out of this damn storm. The beam of the flashlight cut a bright swath through the nearly impenetrable barrage of snowflakes. The slightest movement at the end of the flashlight’s reach caught Devon’s attention. Definitely not her imagination. No four-legged animal would cast that sort of shadow. Wolves were common in this part of the state, but in the course of the year she’d lived in Lowman, Idaho, Devon had yet to see one. Still, the outline she could barely make out was much too tall to be a wolf. It looked more like … “Holy shit!”

  Devon waded through the deep snow, off the highway, and down a small embankment to where the ground leveled off onto a flat space that bordered the river. Her teeth chattered and her muscles grew taut from the blast of freezing wind and wet snow that peppered her. The flashlight shook in her grasp as she made out the form of a man, huddled over in the snow. The snow melted as it hit his bare and bloodied skin and rivulets of pink-tinged water ran down the muscles of his chest and over the ridges of his abs. His shoulders were hunched and dark hair cascaded over his bowed head. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths that sent great clouds of steam into the cold night air.

  A naked and bleeding man, out in the middle of nowhere, at midnight, smack dab in the center of one of the worst blizzards of the year. Nothing out of the ordinary about that.

  Jesus, Devon. What if he’s a serial killer? Or worse?

  She guessed she’d find out soon enough. “Hey!” Her voice barely carried over the din of the blizzard. “Are you okay?”

  Of course he wasn’t okay. What in the hell kind of a question was that? She waded out farther into the open field toward him, the flashlight trained on his wide chest. Whoever he was, he was built like a professional athlete, every inch of him corded with muscle. He definitely wasn’t local. During the time she’d lived in Lowman, Devon had gotten to know all of the permanen
t residents and most of the seasonal ones. She’d never seen this guy before.

  A warning shiver raced up her spine. Devon sensed the weight of eyes watching her. She swiveled to the left and the right, shining her flashlight up one side of the field and down the other. Nothing. There was no one else around. In fact, how in the hell had this guy gotten here in the first place? No wrecked car. No disabled snowmobile. And not a stitch of clothing anywhere on the ground. It was like the guy just popped out of thin air.

  He took a stumbling step and sunk to his knees before face-planting in the snow. His body went still. He didn’t even try to push himself upright and Devon lurched toward him with a gasp. A gust of icy wind stole her breath and she explained away the mad rush of her heartbeat and the worry that welled up within her to the unspent adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

  Was he dead?

  Devon waded through the thigh-deep snow to where he lay unmoving. The flashlight roamed over his body and though he was covered in blood, she couldn’t find a single injury, not even a scratch. Her hands shook as she removed one glove and reached to his throat to feel for a pulse. She pulled back with a jerk. His skin was on freaking fire! The wind died down long enough for her to hear his low groan of pain. The nearest hospital was at least two hours away and with no cell service for miles, calling an ambulance wasn’t even an option. She grabbed on to his massive shoulders and tried to haul him upright only to struggle with the bulk of his weight. Devon lost her grip and fell backward into the snow. She let out a frustrated grunt. How in the hell was she going to get him to the Jeep if she couldn’t even move him?

  She cast a furtive glance back toward the highway. It wasn’t going to be the most pleasant experience for him but she didn’t think he could feel much worse than he already did. Her teeth chattered as she shucked her puffy down coat and draped it over his shoulders before wading through the snow back to the Jeep. Her limbs were numb by the time she climbed back into the cab and Devon took a minute to warm up her hands, holding them up to the blast of hot air coming from the vents in an effort to regain a little sensation. She wouldn’t be worth a damn to either of them hypothermic.

  When she finally felt like she wouldn’t shiver her skin right off her bones, Devon put the Jeep in gear and maneuvered it so the front end pointed toward the open field, headlights trained on her mystery man. A slow breath compressed her lungs as she pulled her gloves back on and left the warmth of the cab to face the blizzard again. The wind whipped at her and snow peppered her face as she rounded the blunt nose of the Jeep and shone her flashlight on the winch attached to the brush guard. She flipped the switch to let out the length of cable and threaded it through the cab of the Jeep before she towed it down into the field, back to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Unconscious.

  “Hope you’ve got an even temper,” she remarked as she looped the cable around his torso. “Because you’re going to feel this when you come to.”

  * * *

  Every inch of Liam Murphy’s body ached. He came slowly awake and braced his left arm on the mattress beneath him as he tried to clear the fog from his mind and the haze of pain from his vision. The room swam in and out of focus, the smell of wood smoke carried to his nose from somewhere close. He choked on an intake of breath. Gods. Even his lungs ached. He tested the skin beneath his pecs with his fingertips and hissed. The skin was raw and welted. Had someone dragged him behind a bullet train sometime in the middle of the night? His body was beat up enough to have bounced around on the tracks for a few hours …

  He racked his brain for some scratch of memory. The last thing he remembered, he’d been running with the pack outside of Stanley on a full-moon hunt when something had jumped them. But as evidenced by his very human form—and the fact that his wolf had grown quiet in his mind—it was obvious that night had passed and the moon had begun to wane. How many hours was he missing? And what had happened during that lost time?

  The loud clank of a pot drew Liam’s attention and he sat up straight in the bed. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Rough-hewn log walls boxed him into the room and the single window was covered by a heavy curtain that closed off his view from the outside. He stretched his neck from side to side and the box springs of the log-frame bed creaked beneath him. The scent of an animal tickled his senses and the wolf that had gone nearly dormant in the depths of his psyche stirred with curiosity. Dog. Domestic. Not a threat.

  The chocolate lab poked its nose past the door that stood ajar and peered inside before giving an anxious whimper and taking a tentative step back. The lab sensed the more dangerous predator and knew better than to go inside. Not much of a guard dog. Then again, not many canines were interested in going toe-to-toe with a werewolf whether he was in his human form or not.

  “Mac? Come here, boy.”

  Liam’s ears perked at the sound of the sultry feminine voice. His wolf stirred once again. Curious. So much for being dormant. Nothing about this place smelled familiar. Where was the rest of the pack? Who did that tantalizing, smoky voice belong to? And what in the hell had he fought in the forest that had managed to kick his ass to the point that he was sore from head to toe?

  As he stretched, the aches in Liam’s muscles faded by small degrees. One of the benefits of quick healing. He swung his legs over the bed and the blanket fell away. Naked. Huh. He’d obviously transitioned sometime during the night before he wound up here. Was it too much to hope that whatever had happened last night, it had been a good time? A warning shiver raced down his spine. Nothing about this screamed wild night. He brought his nose up and inhaled. Aside from the dog whose scent lingered everywhere, there was no sign any member of his pack had been here.

  Not good.

  Liam’s feet came down to the floor without a sound as he pushed himself off the mattress to stand. Supernatural healing allowed for him to take quite a bit of damage and bounce back quickly. That he was still sore from his encounter in the woods spoke volumes. Someone—or something—had handed his ass to him and it rankled. He eased open the door to find himself on a second-story landing of a small loft. The cabin couldn’t have been more than eight hundred square feet and looked to be, for the most part, unfinished.

  The sturdy log frame made for a sound structure with plywood subfloors that had yet to be covered. The ground level of the cabin appeared to be nothing more than a tiny kitchen-slash-living room with another doorway that he assumed led to a bathroom. Every curtain in the place was drawn, shutting out the early morning light. A tingle of night air still vibrated along his skin, which meant dawn had barely broken. He let out a slow breath. Chances were good he’d lost less time than he’d thought. Hopefully. The details of his misplaced memories rested solely with his wolf. It would be nice if the bastard would let him in on the secret.

  The front door swung open, letting in a gust of chilly winter wind. With it, came a scent that washed over Liam’s senses and settled in his gut like a stone. His muscles grew taut and his jaw clenched. His wolf came to full attention in his mind, zeroing in on the source of that delicious smell. The animal’s attention was held rapt by the woman who kicked the door closed behind her, her arms wrapped around a small stack of firewood.

  Shoulder-length deep mahogany hair framed the delicate features of her face. Her cheeks and the tip of her upturned nose were tinged pink from the cold. Dark lashes fringed her bright eyes and her full lips were pursed in a determined set, accentuating the sharp lines of her delicate jaw. Her frame was lean, solid, and the thick cable-knit sweater she wore barely hid the swell of her breasts and the taper of her waist. Her jeans hugged the curves of her hips and her slender thighs, disappearing into the snow boots that laced up to her knees. She embodied the forest in autumn and her scent reminded him of warm days and crisp cool nights.

  Mine.

  The thought resounded loud and clear in the depths of Liam’s mind and vibrated through every inch of him. Oh, hell.

  What were the damn odds? The mating instinct seized him; a desire t
o rush down the stairs and rub his nose, face, body over every inch of her was almost too strong to resist. Her attention wandered to the landing to where he stood, watching her. Her bright hazel eyes went wide and her mouth formed a silent “Oh” as the firewood tumbled from her arms to the floor. Liam looked down the length of his naked body before his gaze found hers again. He wondered at her shocked expression. The gods only knew how long he’d been naked. Had she not been the one to put him in the bed? His appearance couldn’t be that much of a shock.

  Liam scented the air. He couldn’t discern the presence of another male, but that didn’t mean one hadn’t been here. His wolf grew agitated in his mind. It would do him no good to get riled before he exchanged a single word with her, but his wolf was ready to fight anyone or anything that might’ve already laid claim to her. The animal had no fucks to give about common courtesy or decorum. Not when her scent called to him with such visceral intensity. Not when instinct screamed that she already belonged to him.

  “Um … You’re naked.”

  The sultry tenor of her voice rippled over him as chills broke out on his skin. A low rumble gathered in his chest as the wolf echoed its approval. Her statement coaxed a smile to his lips as Liam once again took stock of his body. “Looks like it.” His own voice rasped in this throat as though it had gone days without use.

  Her cheeks flushed—not from the cold this time—and the rich perfume of her scent spiked with her embarrassment. Liam stamped down the smug satisfaction that rose within him. His wolf was a cocky bastard and liked to get a rise out of her, it seemed. Liam didn’t have any qualms about presenting himself for her inspection, either. He displayed his body proudly, his blood heating from the spark of interest in her eyes.