Alpha Unleashed

by Kathy Lyon

  If only.

  He drew back. “I’m going to sleep on your couch. If you need anything, just call me.”

  She needed him to force her to do something that made no sense. She needed him to take what she was willing to give, but couldn’t admit to. She needed him to take the lead because she was too embarrassed and horny and overwhelmed to do it herself.

  As if reading her mind, he stroked a finger across her lips. Heat trailed and her mouth opened.

  “Except that, Alyssa. Anything but that.”

  Then he stepped back and away. He was gone, presumably to settle down on her couch like a freaking priest or something. She was just deciding if she was pissed or grateful when he abruptly came back in. She was startled enough that she lifted her head as he held up her gun before setting it on her bedside table.

  “This is for you,” he said. “In case I don’t wake up right.”

  Well that was scary sounding. She forced herself to push up on her elbows. “You mean, in case you wake up as a bear. In my living room.”

  “Yes.” No hesitation, just a flat acknowledgment. “And if that happens, shoot to kill. I’ll be too far gone to save.”

  Her mind stuttered to a halt. “I’m not going to shoot you!” Again.

  “You won’t be shooting me. You’ll be shooting a feral grizzly.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand. “Shoot to kill, Alyssa. I’m not kidding.”

  He wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes. And wasn’t that a total buzzkill.

  “Promise me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Promise or I won’t stick around. I won’t be here to help out tomorrow with Vic. Or go see the Griz. Promise or I’ll start walking back to the UP right now.”

  “You won’t get two blocks without being jumped.”

  He arched a brow. “Then my problem is solved.”

  He couldn’t possibly be that suicidal. Didn’t animals have a self-preservation thing? But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t talking to his animal side right then. He was all thinking human and his mind was made up. If she didn’t promise to shoot him, then he’d leave just to ensure her safety.

  She groaned. “You’re a bigger pain in the ass than my brother. And that’s saying something.”

  He grunted in a kind of acknowledgment. And when she didn’t say anything more, he repeated his demand.

  “Promise or—”

  “I promise. I’ll shoot your furry ass if you dare go grizzly in my apartment. Do you know how long it took me to decorate this place?” She added a glare of fury just for good measure.

  “It’s beautifully decorated,” he said. “Every pink ruffle and bow is sacred. I’d kill myself if I ever hurt a single one.”

  He was teasing her. Her apartment was not decorated in pink bows or ruffles. Though there might be a rose undertone to the paint and a few white accents in the furniture. But there weren’t any bows and he damn well knew it.

  She collapsed backward on her pillow. “My place bought with my money where I live alone. Be grateful you’re not sleeping on pink unicorn pillows with sparkly bling accents.”

  He didn’t answer. In fact, he was silent so long that she lifted her head to look. He was right where he’d been a moment before, standing near her doorway, but this time with a soft smile on his face.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Alyssa. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning. I promise.”

  No mockery in his words. In fact, the genuine warmth had her tearing up again. When had she ever had someone help her in this nightmare of a life? Someone who wasn’t her employee or her flaky-as-shit brother?

  “Go to sleep, Simon,” she said. She didn’t trust her voice to say anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to burst into tears again.

  “Good night, Alyssa.” He backed out of her room, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind him. Then she heard him in her living room, presumably settling in on her couch. And she heard a grumble. A very loud one that included a snort.

  She was pushing out of bed when she heard him speak, his voice carrying into her bedroom.

  “Just make sure I’m really furry when you shoot me and it’s not this synthetic disaster of a blanket!”

  She had to think a moment, then she stifled her laugh. Her only blanket had been a gift from her brother before he’d gone on his first deployment. It was a fake fur monstrosity that collected static like a miswired charger and using it felt like being buried under a thick carpet. But it was warm, and her brother had given it to her, so it was the blanket that sat on the couch for every winter in Michigan.

  And now it would be wrapped around Simon.

  “Don’t worry,” she called back. “Your real fur is way thinner and patchy, too. I’ll be able to tell the difference.” Then she laughed, loud and long at his outraged grunt of a response.

  Chapter 9

  Simon woke early, and he woke human.

  Part of him was disappointed by that. Grizzly emotions were easy. He wouldn’t care that his best friend had turned into a monster or that he’d gone to sleep with the taste of Alyssa’s lust on his tongue. He’d be completely consumed with eating and rutting and have little understanding of the consequences of those actions.

  Grizzly life was easy, but it couldn’t happen in Detroit. So he rolled off the couch and sniffed the air. He smelled cannabis and popcorn, and he heard the rumble of cars outside, which did not quiet the rumble of Alyssa’s snores.

  She was deep asleep and he was pleased. She needed the rest and he needed the quiet time to talk to Vic. Still, it was strangely hard for him to leave her apartment. His grizzly preferred to rest near the female, watching over her sleep and protecting her home.

  But the man was in charge and though watching Alyssa sleep held appeal, she’d thank him more if he figured out what was wrong with Vic. So he dressed quickly and headed down into the foul-smelling basement.

  Vic had barely moved during the night. They’d left him unconscious as he sprawled against the now warped side of the cage. Sometime during the night, he’d rolled onto his side, but nothing more. And the echoing rumble of snores was pure Vic. Simon had fallen asleep to that rumble hundreds of times on deployment. Hell, it was almost soothing.

  He walked over to Vic, taking his time to study his friend in detail. The monster was mostly naked, so beneath the blood, he saw patches of fur and the sharp claws on his pawlike hands. Thanks to the beating Simon had given Vic, the man’s face was swollen and disfigured, but the elongated nose was still obvious as were the sharp-cutting teeth that seemed grizzly-sized.

  And that smell. God, it wasn’t as thick as it had been last night, but it was BO at its worst. Simon wondered if it might be a defense mechanism. Hard to kill the monster while puking up your guts from nausea. That’s why he hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast before coming down here. He didn’t want it coming back up from the awful wrong smell that surrounded Vic.

  When he had inspected his friend’s body enough, he squatted down as close as he could to Vic’s ear. He wasn’t going inside the cage right now. That was much too dangerous, but hopefully he wouldn’t need to. Instead, he pitched his voice low and soothing.

  “Vic. Vic, buddy. Time to wake up.”

  He had to call a few more times, but eventually the snoring stopped as Vic snuffled and drifted up from sleep. Then came the low moan as pain must have hit. Honestly, there wasn’t much of Vic’s entire body that had escaped damage. But hopefully, they could fix that soon.

  “Don’t open your eyes,” he said. In truth, only one eye could be opened. The other looked swollen shut. “I know you hurt, but we’re in a situation and I need you to keep your head.”

  Vic was military, so he knew to hold it together. At least for the moment. Sure enough, the man stilled but his nostrils flared. He was awake and starting to use his senses. Which meant Simon had to get him distracted before memory k
icked in.

  “I need you to remember something, okay? It sounds stupid but it’s really important. Remember that bar we went to in Anchorage? You couldn’t decide between the redhead with the big boobs or the blonde with the big butt. Remember that?”

  Was there a shift to Vic’s mouth? Was he smiling a little?

  “Do you remember which one you picked? And what was her name? Amber? Betty?”

  Vic’s mouth started to move, but it wasn’t formed right for human speech. He’d be able to do it, but it would be a struggle at first. Simon didn’t want him that aware just yet, so he rushed to stop him.

  “Don’t talk. Not yet. I need you remembering. What was her name? I’ll just call her Red.” He thought his friend had gone with the boobs, but he honestly wasn’t sure. “I need you to think back on that night. Do you remember what you did with her? She took you into the ladies’ room, I know that.” That bar had two ladies’ rooms. One for the regular female customers—of which there were few—and another on the second floor for the prostitutes to use. The stalls were larger, the perfume heavier, and there was a bouncer posted right outside just in case the johns got a little too aggressive. In return, management got a cut of the girl’s price.

  Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

  “No wait! I remember. You picked both. Boobs first then butt. Said it was the hottest time you’d ever had. Then you came back to the table, we finished another pitcher of beer, and you went back in for seconds. Do you remember that?”

  There was definitely a smile on Vic’s face now. And though he really didn’t want to look, he glanced down long enough to see that Vic’s boner was growing.

  “Yeah, you remember. But it was the brunette who was most important. You tagged her last. Said she did something special to you. It was in the way she touched you. Do you remember that? What did she touch first, Vic? I need you to picture that moment. What exactly did she do to you? And then what did you do to her? The details are important, Vic. Every single detail. As if you were putting it on film. I want you to run through every single—”

  His voice cut off because he could see it was working. The air near Vic got cold and there was a pale glow around his body. It started at his groin—no shock there—but rapidly expanded to Vic’s entire body. The fur receded. The bones shifted and resettled. Swelling faded along with the claws, and though the skin remained bloody in patches, Vic’s face eventually returned to normal.

  Vic was a man again.

  “Yeah, Vic. You got it now,” he said, his voice muted. His best friend was a shifter. No doubt about it now that he’d seen it up close. But what the hell had he shifted into? “You can open your eyes now, Vic. Whenever you’re ready.”

  The man’s brown eyes blinked open. He took in his surroundings first, then locked in on Simon. It took two tries for him to speak, but eventually he did, his voice coming out rusty and thick.

  “What happened?”

  “What do you remember?”

  Vic’s eyes narrowed on the cage walls and the bent door. “I was locked in here. You and Alyssa came down and she wouldn’t let me out of the damned cage.” His voice tightened and he pushed up on his elbows.

  “Easy there. You need to stay calm.”

  “Calm?” Vic mocked. “Calm? Look at this cage. What the fuck happened?”

  Simon didn’t answer. He wanted to see how much his friend remembered. And true to form, Vic started answering his own question.

  “I was so mad. And you were saying…You said…” His eyes widened as he looked at the bent door. “I got out and you were giving me shit. And I got…”

  “What? You got what? Say it.” Simon invested his words with the bite of command.

  “I got really pissed.”

  “Yeah. Then—”

  “Holy shit!” Vic suddenly scrambled backward. He landed on the cot with a clang and his eyes shot wide with terror. “Holy shit!” he bellowed again, obviously replaying everything in his memory. He looked at his arms and legs. He realized now that he was naked except for the tattered remains of his jeans. “What the fuck?”

  “Stay calm, Vic. Adrenaline only makes it worse. Panic fuels the shift.”

  Too late. BO flooded the air. Though it was noxious and nauseating, Simon didn’t move. He needed to remain a calm center for his friend or they’d never get through this.

  Meanwhile, Vic’s nostrils flared. “Oh fuck, that’s me! That’s—”

  “Yeah. It sucks. Now get it together.” He straightened to a stand. “That’s an order!” he barked.

  The tone worked. Vic’s gaze locked on Simon’s and he breathed hard. In and out, the sound rasping through his throat. But as the seconds ticked by, the pulse in Vic’s throat visibly eased. The harsh breathing slowed. And best of all, the stench eased off.

  Vic got it together.

  “What is happening to me?” He slowly stood to face Simon. “What am I becoming?”

  Simon pursed his lips. “You’re not becoming anything. The change has already happened to you, Vic. At least I think it’s done.” He was trying to focus on the positive here, though God knew he was making a big guess.

  Vic leaned forward. “What?”

  “I think your change is over. Now it’s just a matter of getting control of it.” He took a breath, then immediately regretted it for the smell. “You’re a shifter now. You change when you’re pissed off. You want to remain human? You stay calm.”

  “So I’m a bear? Like you?”

  No sense in lying. “You’re…your own thing, Vic. I’ve never seen the like before, but it’s not impossible to deal with. Every adolescent shifter goes through this to some degree.”

  “Like this?” Vic asked. “The stink? The fur? The…” He tugged at the frayed denim. “The clothes?”

  “Everything but the stink. That’s all you.”

  “But…” He collapsed back on the cot, and Simon held his breath wondering if the flimsy thing would break. Even as a human, Vic was a big man. Fortunately, the cot was sturdier than it looked. “I don’t understand. Is this how it happened to you? Just…you know, out of the blue?”

  “Was it really out of the blue? What were you feeling beforehand? Why’d you have Alyssa come to me? What made you think of me?”

  Vic rubbed a hand over his face, but he didn’t speak. He just slumped there in defeat. Simon waited a long time, but in the end, he slipped his fingers through the chain link and gripped it tight.

  “You need to talk to me, Vic. You asked me to help and I’m here, but—”

  “I’m trying to remember!” Vic snapped. Except it was more like a growl as his head shot up and his mouth pulled back to show his teeth. It was an animal’s reaction to being threatened, and they both recognized it. Simon just waited. Hell, his shifter friends had done a ton worse as teens, but it frightened Vic enough that his eyes widened with panic.

  Anger, shock, panic, which led to more anger. It was a cycle Simon knew well. As did every shifter. But it was a cycle that had to stop.

  “Keep it together,” he growled, his own animal surging forward.

  “I’m trying!”

  Then Simon abruptly shot his finger forward in a determined point. “Don’t you dare stink this place up again!” It felt like an awkward gesture. He’d never wagged his finger at anyone in his life. But it was something Vic’s mother had done to him, or so he’d once told Simon. Simon mimicked it and prayed that his friend was conditioned to quiet down at that gesture.

  It worked.

  Vic tucked in his jaw and stared at the floor, but it didn’t last long. A moment later his gaze shot up and there was a pinched look to his brows. Worse, there was a rising stench in the air. “I can’t stop it!”

  “Yes, you can,” Simon said. He was running out of ways to tell Vic the same thing. And then Alyssa’s voice cut through the air.

  “You weren’t born able to speak, Vic. You weren’t potty trained and didn’t know your hand from your ass, but you learned. You formed wo
rds, used the toilet, and got control of when your hand and your ass interact.”

  Both men shot looks at Alyssa as she strode into the basement. Simon noted that her eyes seemed clear and her shoulders determined. Her hair was back in that tight bun and her expression was hard. But inside, he guessed she was cut to pieces by what her brother had become. Meanwhile, Vic groaned.

  “Don’t be a bitch, Lys. My hand and my ass are always in perfect sync.”

  She rolled her eyes, but Simon could see relief in the gesture. Vic couldn’t be a monster while he was cracking jokes, right? And even better, the stink seemed to be clearing. A little. Which meant the anger cycle was broken and he had a chance to speak to Vic’s rational mind.

  “She’s right that it’s a new body function just like walking and talking. You have to learn how to control it just like you learned—”

  “Potty training,” Vic grumbled. “I got it. So when I start getting angry, I need to—”

  “Think of the redhead.”

  Vic’s brows narrowed. “I thought it was the brunette. You know, the one who took her time.”

  Simon held up his hand to stop his friend from saying anything more. He enjoyed a good sexual exploit as much as any man, but he’d never thought of it as a spectator sport. “I just needed you to remember the details of being a man. The body, the feel, the…everything of being a man. That’s what shifted you back to human. And by the way, that’s what healed your injuries.”

  Vic touched his cheek, pressing in to the cheekbones. “You beat the crap out of me.”

  “You deserved it.” It was a lie. Vic hadn’t been in control. All Simon had needed to do was incapacitate him, not beat him senseless. The only one who had kept it together last night was Alyssa and he admired the hell out of her for that.

  Meanwhile Vic shrugged. “Yeah.” He looked at his sister. “Sorry about…” He gestured to the damaged cage. “Everything.”