“I can’t help it. I’ve rubbed it raw since last Saturday and it still won’t go down.”
Dodge floated near Colt, his hands crossed over his see-through vest. As a ghost, he was more transparent than not; Maddox could make out the blinds behind Dodge, everything about him—from his old-fashioned duds to his faded derby hat—in varying shades of grey.
The only pop of color on the century-old ghost was the electric blue shade of his eyes. They were wide and mischievous as he jerked his chin over at Maddox.
“You’re lucky,” he said, his thick New York accent forever noticeable. “I haven’t gotten wood in more than a hundred years.”
For Maddox, it was twenty-six. And that was long enough.
Every Para had its quirk. Most of the community pitied the shifters for theirs. And while Maddox might have been more frustrated through those hormone-filled teenage years than a human kid, he got through them because he knew the prize at the end was worth decades of waiting.
He was going to have a mate. One woman who fate chose just for him.
As soon as she left her house, that was.
“I’d swap places with you if I could,” muttered Maddox grumpily.
It wasn’t quite true. That was the sexual frustration talking.
Dodge knew it, too.
“It’s an easy fix, Mad. Look… just go out, find some lucky gal to give you a handy. Relieve some stress, then give your real woman a chance to talk to you without that thing ready to poke out her eye. You’ll be fine.”
Maddox bared his fangs. “Not funny, Dodge.”
“What do you mean? I’m serious.” He drifted closer, a smirk on his hazy face. “What about Priscilla?”
“Cilla? What about Cilla?”
Dodge shrugged. “Ask her for a hand.”
Maddox stared over at him. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the ghost. Did he always used to be so see-through? Maddox didn’t think so. Then again, Maddox was having a hard time concentrating on even the smallest of things these days.
But Cilla? Really?
“Why the hell would I do that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe because she’s been in love with you since she was a witchling?”
That was one thing Maddox couldn’t stand about ghosts. Dodge had been dead more than ninety years, but he’d seen a lot in the time since. Worse, he had a memory like a steel trap. He didn’t forget anything. Certain things that happened to Maddox and Colt back when they were kids, Dodge recalled them with vivid clarity. Time just didn’t have the same meaning to him since he died.
So, even though it had been close to a decade since a teenaged Cilla confessed that she had feelings for Maddox, he knew that Dodge remembered that awkward time as if it were yesterday.
Because it was awkward, Maddox tried not to think about it. He’d been flattered and, admittedly, a little surprised when she told him that and, okay, maybe they went on a couple of dates together, but it never led to anything. It couldn’t. It was obvious from the beginning that Cilla wasn’t his mate. No amount of magic or wishing on her part could change that.
She accepted it and eventually got past his careful rejection, jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend until she put any relationships on the back burner in favor of advancing her career. Maddox, meanwhile, continued his search for his mate, figuring there were no hard feelings between them.
“She got over her crush when we were kids. We’re just friends.”
Dodge winked. “Why don’t you try friends with benefits?”
“You’re from the early twentieth century. What do you know about friends with benefits?”
“I died in the early twentieth century. I haunted all throughout the rest of it. I ghosted through the sixties, Mad Dog. Flower power and Woodstock. What don’t I know about friends with benefits?”
“Yeah, well, like I said. Not. Funny.”
“Hey. I wasn’t trying to be. I’ve seen the way Cilla still looks at you when she comes around. Now that you’re able to get it up at last, no way she won’t say yes.”
Maddox was about to tell Dodge to stop it with the damn teasing when he realized something: the sly ghost was actually being serious for once. Dodge really thought Maddox should work his frustration out with Priscilla—with a woman who wasn't his mate.
Hell, no.
Not only did just the idea of betraying his mate finally cause his erection to go down a little, but his claws unsheathed without him even giving them the conscious order to.
Yeah. His wolf was against it, too.
Maddox growled.
That finally got Colt’s attention. Jerking his head up, he threw a warning look at Dodge, then said, “Don’t listen to him, Mad. Even when he was alive, he wasn’t a shifter. You know that. He means well. Dodge just doesn’t understand what it was he said.”
The ghost laughed cheekily. “That may be true, but I can guarantee you that I absolutely do not mean well.”
No. Probably not—on both counts, too. Colt was right when he figured Dodge didn’t truly understand that a shifter would rather die than betray his mate. And, Maddox admitted with a huff, Dodge most definitely didn’t mean well.
He wasn’t being spiteful or vindictive, though. It was who—and what—Dodge was. He was a ghost, and he got his kicks messing with the living because that was basically all he could do. Ever since he started haunting Colt more than a decade ago, his favorite pastime was interfering with the Wolfe brothers’ lives.
He was the one who dared the boys to steal Terrence Wolfe’s infamous girly magazines, and the one who regaled them with stories about the life he lived at the turn of the twentieth century, a young rapscallion of a pickpocket with a lover in every borough of New York City.
Dodge was as horny a bastard today as he was when he was alive; now that he was dead, he was as limp as Maddox had been up until that fateful afternoon. Meanwhile, Colt had never shown any interest in having a mate of his own and, now that Maddox had stopped growling at Dodge, he had turned his attention back to his work.
Neither one of them was any help.
Maddox rolled his eyes, shoving roughly at his aching cock again.
There was only one way to get relief. And since that was impossible when he didn’t even know his mate’s name, he was going to have to get used to the ache sooner or later.
At least standing guard over her property gave him some semblance of peace. It might be lonely, but it was better than putting up with Dodge McCoy.
He got to his feet. “I’m out of here.”
“You shouldn’t go back to her house,” warned Colt. “You just left.”
Maddox didn’t say anything. If he did, it would inevitably be a lie.
His brother knew it, too. With a sigh, Colt said, “Fine. But do me a favor? When she finally leaves, don’t go snatching her off the street so you can steal her away to your place.” He paused, and a bit of Dodge slipped out when his brother added, “The Ants consider that kidnapping. It’s against their laws, in case you didn’t know.”
Maddox scowled. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”
4
Over the course of the next few days, he watched her even closer.
Now that his father had finally been informed that Maddox he was courting his mate, Terrence relieved him of his pack duties until Maddox’s bond with her started to form.
A good thing, too. Maddox was already way too distracted to be any help around the worksites. Colt, on the other paw, absolutely jumped at the chance to take on more jobs since it kept him out of the house while Maddox continued to mope around inside of it.
He realized after that first week that he needed to shake up his new routine. Watching her overnight made him feel better, but the wards kept him from getting too close; he had no chance to learn anything about the woman except that she went to bed early and never had guests. Leaving when the sun came up might have kept her from knowing he watched over her, but it left him just as alone as before.
Driving past her house early in the morning and late at night kept him from being discovered by her neighbors. At the same time, it kept him from spying her.
So, that Monday morning, he got into his truck and slowly drove down her street again, parking his truck about two houses over so that he had her front door in his rearview mirror. He told himself he was patrolling his mate’s territory, keeping her safe the only way he could, but even his wolf called his bluff.
Both parts of him were in agreement, though. This woman was his mate and, now that he knew where to find her, nothing was going to stop him from at least making sure she was protected. It was, after all, his duty as her mate.
If only she would see it that way…
To his surprise, he finally managed another glimpse of her. About ten minutes after he parked, he watched as she finally left her house.
As he waited for her to drive past him before he started his engine, it dawned on him that he was out later than the other times he lingered during the day.
Thank fucking Alpha. He had a lead at last.
When he slipped into traffic a few cars behind her, following her to the busy downtown area in Woodbridge and observing her pulling into a parking deck, he finally figured out what she was doing. There was an office building that towered over its neighbors. The woman headed straight for it.
She was going to work.
So now Maddox knew where she lived and where she worked.
Progress.
* * *
The next few days, her routine was exactly the same. He did a lot of waiting, scoping out the building, getting a feel for her daily activities. If he’d been a human, his actions would’ve been viewed as creepy and weird; as a shifter, it was considered totally normal. Whenever a curious human got too close, he let them get a glimpse of his wolf and they scurried. The few Paras that strolled through the downtown recognized that he was on the hunt and gave him a wide berth.
Because he was desperate not to spook his mate, he stayed out of her sight. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer, especially since his wolf was chomping at the bit to get closer to her, and he finally came to a decision.
When he approached her again, he’d be careful to hide the fact that he was a shifter. Maddox wasn’t a moron. He knew there was no way she would’ve forgotten about the crazy-eyed, lust-filled shifter that scared the hell out of her while she was relaxing in the park. His plan? To make sure she never figured out that that was him.
For the first time in his life, Maddox would conceal his pride at being a shifter. To win him a human mate, he would act like a human.
His primal instinct warned him against pretending to be anything else but what he was. A shifter—an alpha wolf—would never be able to hide everything that made him that way. He’d be protective and possessive and more devoted than most humans could hope to be. It was a good thing he wouldn’t have to pretend for long. It would be impossible to keep up the act.
His mate wasn’t the only one he had to convince. His wolf hated the idea, but it hated the reminder of how Maddox had made her scream even more. That, and the spike of fear in her scent when she first saw him.
It was the only thing that got through to his beast. He was a shifter, a born alpha, and his animal side was stronger than most. He could control it, even with her being the biggest temptation of his life, but it took his wolf’s devotion to its future mate to allow the man to make all of the decisions.
Because, he admitted, sometimes his instincts could definitely be trouble.
Grabbing her, running off with her, learning everything about her before they became true mates… in that first rush of recognizing just what that woman was to him, Maddox couldn’t deny that stealing her away wasn’t an overwhelming instinct that first afternoon in the park.
Until their eyes had locked.
He didn’t know if she recognized who he was. Had no clue if she knew that she was looking at her forever when she saw him. On the other hand, from the way she paled and screamed, he figured he might have given away more of his intentions than she was prepared for.
Or maybe she was just afraid that he was a Para. A shifter. Didn’t matter either way. The only thing that did?
Her scream, and how quickly her scent had changed.
It turned bitter. Acrid, almost, like the stink of burning paper.
She was afraid.
Of him.
So he turned tail, realizing that his life had changed even more than he thought. Serving as second in his father’s pack all his life, Maddox was used to being the biggest and baddest of big, bad wolves. This woman wasn’t only the mate who’d be at his side. She would eventually bear his pups, too, while helping him guide the pack as the Alpha female, whether she was human or not. This woman was all of the things he wanted, but never reached for because it was useless to dream while she was just a promise of what could be.
And now he found her.
This woman… this nameless stranger had the power to make him retreat, already far stronger than his wolf would ever be.
She was the woman who had tamed his beast with only her scent.
He smiled.
She was his mate.
Or, she would be.
Colt’s exasperated sigh and no nonsense reminder that Ants frowned on Para’s abducting their mates kept running through his head. His brother wasn’t wrong, damn it, and he knew better than to give into his wolf’s urges. If he threw the woman over his shoulder and ran off with her, he would only scare her more.
He had to be sneaky. He had to be smart.
He had to convince his wolf to give the man a chance to woo his human mate and make her see that there was no better partner in life than an alpha wolf shifter.
She was a human. She worked with humans, interacted with humans, lived near humans.
He didn’t know how she would react to his being a shifter. It was bad enough that a big, brawny, muscular man with tanned skin, golden eyes, and danger coming off of him in waves had spooked her by tracking her in the park.
He knew what he saw when he looked in the mirror. Shaggy dark hair, a permanent five o’clock shadow along his square jaw, big golden eyes, and a scowl that could curdle milk when he was in a mood.
No wonder she was terrified.
Maddox didn’t want to scare her again. Introducing her to his wolf? That might be a little too much for her.
His mate was obviously skittish. She was probably nervous, too.
And, well, she technically didn’t quite know she was his mate just yet.
Take things slow. Take it easy.
He was playing for keeps. The stakes? They’d never been higher for him.
But Maddox was a wily hunter. He brought his first deer down when he was a pup of barely two years old. Though his mate was infinitely more important, and much smarter than an average deer, he knew how to stalk his prey unaware.
And he proved it by not getting caught watching her once.
The first few weeks after he followed her home, then to work, Maddox continued to keep an eye on her from afar, learning everything he could about her.
Her name, he discovered at long last, was Evangeline Lewis.
Evangeline was twenty-three years old, thankfully single, and an only child to a couple who were obviously pro-human. Maddox initially feared that his mate would be, too, but he observed the easy way she mixed with humans and Paras both whenever he followed her throughout the downtown.
So she wasn’t afraid of all shifters, he decided. Just him.
It made him more determined than ever to go ahead with his plan to pretend to be a human. An Ant. If only because it would guarantee that he eventually got on her parents’ good side, Maddox tamped down his wolf, took a deep breath, and finally grew a pair in order to walk up to her for only the second time.
It took every bit of nerve he had to pretend to bump easily into his mate on her way out of her local coffee shop almost four weeks from the day he first sc
ented her.
He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for when he sneakily went about engaging her in conversation over the coffee drink in her hand. Some sign of recognition would’ve been nice, though his wolf padded anxiously inside of him, worried that the fear scent would fill the air if she became afraid of him again.
Maddox had spent days planning this, eager to make this meet seem as casual and coincidental as possible. Asking her about a coffee order was one of the most human things he could think to do.
So that’s what he did.
“Excuse me--”
“It’s okay.”
“My mistake. I should’ve been watching—oh, wow.” He made a deliberate sniffing motion. Her delicious scent, clean and soft and sweet, wrapped around him. His poor cock got impossibly harder as he allowed himself to revel in it for a brief moment before he forged forward with his plan. “Wow, sorry to bother you, but whatever you’re holding smells delicious. Would you mind telling me what it is?”
She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable, but good manners won out in the end. Instead of dashing for the door, she stopped, moving aside to let another group of patrons enter the bustling shop. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’s an iced cinnamon macchiato, pump of vanilla syrup, almond milk instead of skim.”
“Almond, huh? Does it make it taste better?”
“I think so. Maybe it’s in my head, but it seems a bit nuttier to me. It’s good.”
“And kind of complicated. Cinnamon mocha—”
She laughed. “No. Macchiato. It’s like espresso with milk.”
He knew that. “Pump of what?”
“Vanilla syrup. It makes it a little sweeter.”
Nothing was as sweet as the vanilla inherent in her scent.
“Thanks. You know, I think I’d actually like to try that, but I’m not so sure I’ll ever remember to say all that.” He paused, swallowing an excited yip courtesy of his wolf. This was super important. He couldn’t screw this up, not after how long he waited to do this just right. “Hey, this might seem like a lot to ask, especially since I almost knocked you over on my way in here, but do you think you could come over to the counter real quick, help me order my drink? I know I’ll mess it all up.”
Mates: Prequel (Claws Clause Book 0) Page 3