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The Mane Squeeze

Page 29

by Shelly Laurenston


  Mitch glared. “No.”

  Determined to deal with her burden now rather than later, Gwen demanded, “Where’s Ma?”

  Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Gwen kneeled on her chair and studied the crowd closely. “Where is she? Who is she talking to? She didn’t corner anybody yet, did she?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for our mother. Why aren’t you?”

  “Because she’s not here.”

  “What do you mean she’s not here? You said you didn’t know where she was.”

  “I don’t know where she is in the big cosmic scheme of life at this very second. But I do know she’s not here.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “’Cause I talked to her ten minutes ago on the phone and she was screaming about how she was running late and the goddamn neighborhood kids were already ringing her doorbell and how she hated giving the goddamn neighborhood kids goddamn chocolate, but she didn’t want them egging her goddamn house. And she hated this goddamn time of year, and why was I calling her on this goddamn night when she had to take the goddamn kids trick-or-treating?”

  Blayne fell back in her chair laughing, while Gwen could only shake her head.

  “So unless she’s planning to sprint from Philly to Manhattan in the next few hours,” Mitch added, “I think you’re off the hook.”

  “Except I’ve gotta watch out for you.”

  “Nope. I’m sticking to two beers tonight.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I’ve gotta keep an eye on my woman. More than four shots of tequila and someone’s going to jail…and it’s usually Ronnie, which means Bren will be pissed and I gotta hear about it.” Her brother looked at her. “So it looks like you’ll be taking care of yourself tonight, baby sister.”

  Gwen sat in her chair, dropping her legs to the floor. “I’ve still gotta watch Blayne.”

  “Nope. I don’t drink.” Gwen and Mitch laughed at Blayne. “What?”

  “Thank God you don’t drink,” Mitch said. “I can’t imagine the level of trouble you’d get into if you weren’t constantly sober.”

  “Yeah, but unlike you and your mother, I don’t actively look for trouble. It finds me.” She smiled at Gwen. “But I’m safe in a completely controlled environment, so you should just relax and have a good time.”

  Gwen nodded, sure things wouldn’t go that easy. “I’ll work on that.”

  Blayne glanced around. “When’s he getting here?”

  Mitch sneered. “That bear? Ow!” He glared across the table at Blayne. “What did you kick me for?”

  “Because you should mind your own business,” Blayne snapped.

  “I don’t want my baby sister settling on some flea-bitten honey-lover! Ow! Stop kicking me!”

  “Then leave your sister alone or I swear by all that’s holy—”

  Sissy walked up and dropped into Mitch’s lap, forcing Blayne to cut off the rest of her threat. Gwen didn’t know what was going on between Mitch and Blayne, but then again…she didn’t really care.

  “Where’s Bren and Ronnie?” Mitch asked Sissy while he still glared at Blayne.

  At the mention of the canine’s name, Gwen hissed and arched her back.

  “Calm down, vicious kitty, they’re off somewhere across the room.” Sissy scrutinized Gwen. “You gonna tell me what happened between you and Ronnie?”

  “Nothing,” Gwen lied. “Why?”

  Mitch stared down at his mate’s T-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. “Why are you not in costume?”

  “I am in costume. I told them I’m a killer of wild dogs who annoy the fuck out of me. Needless to say they backed off the whole costume thing.”

  “How is that fair?”

  “We’re predators, darlin’. There is no fair among predators.”

  “I keep forgetting.” Mitch focused back on Gwen and Blayne. “Now you two need to understand something. I’ve got a reputation that must be maintained at all times. These wild dogs love me, so don’t embarrass me.”

  Gwen and Blayne shrugged easily and said in unison, “Yeah. Okay.”

  Mitch had never noticed it before, but as soon as he’d told Gwen their mother wasn’t coming to the party, all the tension she’d walked in with seemed to evaporate. Now she and Blayne were bopping their heads to the music and…Christ, was his sister smiling?

  The whole thing was probably something he should look into but…eh. Why bother?

  “Great music,” Gwen said, and that was not an easy compliment to get out of her. She was as finicky about her music as she was about her food.

  “It’s all that oldies crap you like. According to Phil, that’s what they’re mostly playing tonight.” The music on the sound system changed and he added, “And the eighties, because apparently a wild dog party isn’t a wild dog party without Adam and the Ants.”

  Blayne grinned. “I love this song!”

  “‘Prince Charming’ circa 1981,” Gwen announced.

  “How little I care,” Mitch said dryly. He pointed at his face. “This is my ‘How little I care’ face. Can you see that?”

  “Really?” Gwen asked, just as dryly. “’Cause this is my ‘Beat the shit outta my brother’ face. Do you like this face? Do you wanna see what I can do with this face?”

  “Y’all!” Sissy snapped. “Cut it out!”

  “She started it.”

  Sissy glared down at him. “Leave your sister alone, Mitchell Shaw.”

  “You still don’t understand, do you? I am not the Alpha Male to your Alpha Female,” Mitch patiently explained to the woman he loved.

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right. I am the Lord High God Ruler to your Alpha Female. And the sooner you learn that, and bow down to my greatness, the sooner this relationship is running like a well-oiled machine.”

  “You’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind!” Sissy shouted out, laughing.

  “It’s true! And do you know why it’s true? Because I am a lion male. Ruler over all I survey. Tell her, Gwenie…Gwenie?”

  Mitch looked for his sister and gasped in horror. “Good God, what is she doing?”

  Sissy gazed out at the dance floor, and her laughter turned downright hysterical. Not that he could blame her when his baby sister and her best friend were in the middle of a bunch of wild dogs dancing. But not mere dancing, because that he could tolerate. They were actually doing the moves from the original Adam and the Ants “Prince Charming” video. All of them, together…in sync.

  “Apparently my ‘do not embarrass me’ speech has been ignored!”

  “You’re lucky she didn’t deck you again. Besides,” Sissy gave him a quick kiss, “she looks like she’s having fun for once. I didn’t know the girl knew how.”

  “My sister has fun.”

  “Not from what I’ve seen. So why don’t you leave her alone?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Not listening.” Sissy stood up and announced to anyone in earshot, “Tequila for everybody!”

  When Mitch glared up at her she leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, darlin’. Open bar, so we don’t have to pay a cent.”

  “That’s not what I—” But she was already gone and Mitch had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

  Lock and Ric walked through the double doors and all Lock could say was, “Definitely a wild dog party.”

  “Absolutely,” Ric muttered.

  Lock surveyed all the costumes. Some must have cost a small fortune and some were ridiculous. “Is that supposed to be a used condom?”

  Ric’s lip curled in distaste. “That’s just vile.”

  Lock was glad he and Ric had gone with the all-black look—black jeans, long-sleeved tee, boots, and leather jackets. Simple and understated. When it came to his wardrobe, Lock liked understated.

  “What do you want to do first?” Ric asked.

  “Find Gwen,” Lock answered, eager t
o see her. Gwen had spent every night with him the past week and it had gotten to the point where he didn’t even want to think of her sleeping anywhere else but in his bed, with his arms around her.

  “Sounds good,” Ric replied, but they’d only managed to get a few feet when Jess stepped in front of them.

  Pleasantly startled, Lock peered down at her. “My God, Jess…you look beautiful.” Although he wouldn’t mention the pointed ears.

  “Thanks! I’m a wood elf of the royal family.”

  Lock and Ric glanced at each other and then said together, “Okay.”

  She motioned to the two of them. “And what are you two wearing?”

  “Clothes,” Lock answered, immediately worried.

  “Where are your costumes?”

  Panicked, Lock turned to Ric who said, after a moment, “These are our costumes, Jessica.”

  “Explain please.”

  “We’re…uh…spies. I’m Double-O Seven.” He motioned to Lock. “And this is Jaws.”

  Lock scowled at him. “That’s not funny.”

  Jess glared at them a few seconds longer, then waved her arms in the air. Before he could take his next breath, Sabina and Maylin appeared on either side of her.

  Ric scrutinized Sabina’s entire costume but appeared most focused on the short red lines she’d drawn around her entire neck. “Uh…who are you?”

  “Queen Marie Antoinette,” Sabina immediately answered. “They took her head in the French Revolution, but then they sewed the head back on and now she is one of the undead searching for fresh blood. Preferably of innocent virgin boys.”

  Ric let out a breath. “Lovely.” He motioned to Maylin. “And you’re—”

  “Bonnie!” She grinned. “To my Danny’s Clyde.”

  “The bloody bullet holes are an…interesting touch.”

  “Thanks!”

  “Lock and Ric are trying to tell me these are their costumes.”

  “No,” Sabina stated flatly. “That will not do.”

  “We’re comfortable in our costumes,” Lock said, desperately trying to avoid where this was going.

  “Those are not costumes,” Maylin said, looking extremely disappointed in both of them.

  Jess crossed her arms over her chest. “The invite said costumes a must. Did you not see that?”

  “But Ric said—”

  Throwing up her hands as if the weight of the world were placed on her shoulders, “Well, this will have to be fixed!”

  “Or,” Lock said quickly, “I can go home.”

  Turning quickly before he could see that first wild dog tear track down that pretty face, Lock took several steps but stopped when Jess tossed after him, “I’ll tell Gwen you left.”

  Damn! He’d have to remember that he couldn’t panic and leave his loved ones behind. Very bear-type behavior but rude.

  “Where is she?”

  She jerked her thumb at the enormous dance floor that was filled to capacity. “Out there with Blayne. Having a wonderful time in costume…without you.”

  Not just in a costume but in a costume that made her look freakin’ adorable! And apparently the males surrounding her and Blayne thought so, too.

  Lock’s jaw popped and he took a step, but a small hand fell against his chest. “Don’t even think about going out there without a costume.”

  He scowled down at the adorable little wild dog who was pissing him off. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Serious as linoleum.”

  Not sure what that even meant, Lock sent Ric a questioning glance, but the wolf could only shake his head. Ric’s logical brain had given up trying to make sense of wild dog thinking years ago.

  “The men, they like Gwen, yes?” Sabina asked brightly.

  He snarled at her, and Ric quickly stepped between the two.

  “Jess, we’re sorry about this. But it’s so late and we can’t get costumes now. All the stores will be out. And the ones that aren’t won’t have our size.”

  “We know that.” Jess grinned. “And that’s why we’re providing costumes for those who don’t have them!” She pointed at a room off in a corner. “We even have tailors standing around to help with fittings.”

  Ric glanced at Lock and immediately grimaced when he saw his face.

  “You walked right into that one!” Lock bellowed, causing several nearby wild dogs and felines to take off running.

  “Come, bear.” Sabina grabbed his arm. “We dress you so you don’t look more like fool than you usually do.”

  Jess took Lock’s other arm and led him to the room. Ric tried to back out the door, but Maylin got a good grip on him and dragged him along behind them all.

  “I so blame you for this, Van Holtz!” Lock snarled at his best friend.

  “Like I’m not also in hell?”

  The music changed from “Psychotic Reaction” to “Land of a Thousand Dances” and Blayne was immediately back by Gwen’s side, the two of them doing each dance called out in the song, the wild dogs clapping and cheering around them. Yup! Great music. As one nun had told her—or hissed at her, depending on your perspective—“Your only saving grace is your excellent taste in music, Devil’s Whore.” Gwen appreciated the compliment but could have done without that damn nickname.

  Laughing and impressing the wild dogs, the friends danced, while Gwen enjoyed herself more than she had in a very long time.

  After a few minutes, Blayne’s teammates ran up to them. There were a few moments of derby-girl squealing and hugging that for once, because she was having such a good time, Gwen didn’t mind—even though she did think, Didn’t you people just see each other yesterday?

  Gwen didn’t even mind when they squealed and hugged her, too.

  “I didn’t know you guys were coming,” Blayne said, her arm around Suli, a.k.a. Our Lady of Pain and Suffering, who was dressed as a very hot Sailor Moon.

  “Invited by Jess Ward-Smith herself. She’s been at every bout we’ve had lately.”

  “I heard you guys made it into the championships next week.” Gwen smiled at Blayne. “Congratulations.”

  “You’ll have to be there,” Suli said. “As our…what was it, Blayne?”

  “Teammate in spirit!” And Blayne threw her arms up, cheerleader style.

  “Right.” Suli laughed. “But seriously, Gwen, you should join the team. We’re up against the Furriers again.”

  Gwen shook her head. “No, thanks.” She was more than happy to let that call for revenge go. “But I’ll definitely be there to support you guys.” And Blayne.

  The music changed again, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas’ “Heat Wave” blasting through the club. The two friends grinned at each other before letting out a scream and breaking into the Watusi, the wild dogs going right along with them.

  Nope, Gwen thought as she and Blayne moved expertly around each other. Nothing can make this night any better!

  Nothing can make this night any worse!

  Lock held on to the marble pillar, using his four-inch claws, while nearly ten She-dogs tried to pry him loose and drag him out of the room.

  “I’m not going!”

  “Come on, Lock! You look fabulous!”

  “I look like an idiot! And I’m not going out there!”

  This was ridiculous. He was an apex predator! There was no predator big enough or strong enough to hunt a grizzly except, maybe, another grizzly or polar—and humans didn’t count, since they had to use guns. But instead of batting these tiny She-dogs around like they deserved, he was holding on for dear life and hoping they’d grow bored.

  Of course, he should know better. They were dogs! Dogs didn’t grow bored. They could dig a hole for hours, chase their tails for hours, and apparently, they could tussle with a bear for hours!

  Then Jess was there. The queen of the wild dogs. She personified doglike behavior. Like the brilliant poodle hanging out with all the dumb labs.

  “You’re going out there,” she said.

  “No. I’m not.”
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  “Oh, yeah?” And she reached up, gripped his nipples, and twisted.

  “Ow!” Lock released the pillar to protect his nipples and that’s when one of them screamed, “Heave!”

  The next second Lock MacRyrie was skidding to a halt outside that damn room.

  A tiger male standing by looked at him and snorted. “Nice skirt, Gentle Ben.”

  Embarrassed, mortified, and pissed off in general about the nickname, Lock slammed the back of his fist into the tiger’s nose.

  The tiger flew back twenty feet, eventually hitting the floor, his hand over his face. “Motherfucker! You broke my nose!”

  Not caring about the sobbing cat, Lock turned to the room, ready to retrieve his clothes and run home like a frightened cub, when the door slammed shut in his face. “Sorry!” the She-dogs yelled from the other side. “We’re closed!”

  “Open this door right now, or I’ll—”

  “Lock?” he heard from behind him. “Lock, is that you?”

  Cringing, Lock slowly faced the She-wolf. “Hi, Adelle.”

  “Lock!” Hands covering her mouth, Adelle walked around him in a complete circle. She looked elegantly Van Holtz in a Grecian gown, her hair done up on top of her head in a mass of curls, with plastic snakes sticking out. “You look…”

  “Like an idiot?”

  “No. No! Not at all.” Adelle stopped in front of him. “You look—” she took his hands and lifted his arms, gawking at him “—amazingly, deliciously Scottish.”

  “Half-Scottish,” he corrected.

  “Uh-huh.” Adelle dropped his arms and began to fan herself. “My, my. You have grown since I…uh…I last noticed.”

  “You mean since I was ten?” Because she’d always treated him like he was still ten…until this moment. At this moment, she wasn’t treating him or looking at him like he was still ten.

  This was becoming a nightmare!

  “So, Lachlan,” she said, her hand stroking her collarbone. “Would you like a drink? Or something?”

  “No…no thank you.” He sidestepped away from Adelle, disturbed that the woman he saw as one of his aunts watched him as if he were a wounded baby deer.

  He had to find Ric, he had to get his clothes back. He couldn’t walk around for the rest of the night like…

 

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