Escaping Monsters: A Reverse Harem Wolf Shifter Romance (Grayhaven Book 1)

by Rita Stradling

  That wasn’t ideal if the alpha was lying about his feelings toward Kane. Kane had no shortage of enemies, but I didn’t know of a single one that wouldn’t hand me over in a heartbeat. On the other hand, this vampire Clive was clearly wary of the local pack, so he’d hopefully stick to the terms of our deal.

  “Lead the way, vampire,” I gesture back to the door.

  The werewolves hadn’t moved when I passed them. They just watched me in silence as I left to feed the hungry vampire.

  Chapter Three

  I blinked open my eyes, staring into the face of a massive gray cat. It crouched on my chest, squishing the oxygen from my lungs and watching me with its tail flicking back and forth. It took me a few seconds to recognize the beast as the one guarding the register at Cat’s 24-Hour Drugstore.

  Moving very slowly, I pulled my camera from the nightstand, adjusted the lens, and snapped a photo of the glaring cat.

  “How did you get in here, kitty?” I set my camera down and reached out to scratch the feline’s head, but the cat hissed, jumped off my chest and hurried off the bed, surprisingly agile for its size. It jumped up onto the old porcelain tub and pounced onto the windowsill, scurrying out of a window I secured last night with locks I installed myself. There was a swooshing sound, followed by a click.

  Tension squeezed my muscles tight as I scurried out of bed, running into the bathroom. Ignoring my full bladder, I balanced on the porcelain rim of the tub and checked the window. It was closed. Not only that, but my steel security bracers were also in the window tracks, and the window locks were all still engaged.

  “Magic cats.” I shook my head. Now I’d seen everything. Clearly, the fat drugstore cat was not only a key guarder, but he was also an opener of windows. I jumped down off the tub and as I gripped the porcelain lip my palm ached with a sharp, throbbing pain.

  “No…,” I groaned, long and loud as I raised my hand to the light. It had taken me twenty minutes of agonizing pain while I plucked glass shards out of my palm before I let Clive suck my wound closed. The skin of my hand was as smooth and untarnished as it had been before I lifted the glass to the alpha’s throat, but when I pressed down on the skin, it gave a twinge of pain.

  Fuck.

  I must have missed a shard.

  If it was just my hand, I’d have said fuck it. I’ll deal with the pain, no big deal. But once I hit Mt Hood, I had to run over four hundred miles as the crow flies on four paws. There was a very good chance that I would be hunted like quarry as soon as I hit Washington.

  I stood there next to the tub, staring at the old wooden window frame and the lace curtains, really wanting to smash something.

  “Smashing things is what got you into this, Teagan,” I muttered. Anyway, it would be pretty ungrateful if I messed up Clive’s hotel. He’d only got a few ounces of blood from me before my wound had closed. Werewolves healed fast.

  The Sanguine Inn had a definite theme to it, and that was frilly Victorian ladies’ parlor. The room Clive had escorted me to last night was the pinkest room I’d ever seen in my life. If a highly gendered girl’s baby shower had sex with a cupcake shop, room number seven at the Sanguine Inn would be their unholy baby. The decor didn’t even seem forced. It was as if the hotel had just kept its original fluffy amenities in tip-top shape for the last century and a half. Everything was frilly or delicate or painted. Even the toilet paper holder had flowers painted along its length.

  The clothes I’d washed and hung to dry last night were stiff to the touch. I folded each as I repacked them in my bag, careful not to wrinkle them, even though I’d be abandoning everything I owned soon enough.

  The Sanguine Inn was dark and quiet as I headed down the stairs, which was, unsurprisingly, the opposite of how I’d found it last night. Rooms had been thrown open, music from every era had been blasting through the hallway, and people chatted in the doorways with bottles in hand. Now the hallways were silent as a graveyard and no one sat behind the carved heavy wood counter in the front parlor.

  Early morning light broke over the ridge of pine trees to the east, and the air smelled like fresh coffee and bread, making my stomach churn with hunger. I had eighty-seven dollars in the world, and likely, that would all be needed for my travel out of here. Food was something I could hunt for in the forest. Still, I took greedy inhales of the sweet, yeasty scent as I headed down the hill and into the area I fled last night.

  The street that had so recently been filled with motorcycles and live music now held the strangest farmers market I’d ever seen.

  There was nothing outwardly magical about the sellers or the customers that I could see. Most of the farmers and sellers wore thick canvas work clothes, with dirt crusting their boots, but their wares were anything but normal. Families walked around open market stalls where vendors offered bottles of bubbling chemical compounds, berries the size of watermelons, jars of glowing light, and antiques that claimed to be haunted. I gave the antique stall a wide berth, circling a group of children that were running around the stalls with their faces dripping with strawberry juice—at least I hoped it was strawberry juice.

  I slowed by a stall that proclaimed to sell lotions with all-natural ten-day glamours. A photo book of models and the words: “Pick Your Glamour” sat next to the bottles.

  “So, let me get this straight, if I put on one of these lotions, I’d look like a person I choose in this book?” I asked the older man behind the stall counter.

  “Yep.” He stepped up to the table. “That’s the idea, yeah. You’d smell, look, feel, and sound like them too. This row would fool someone who didn’t look hard. This one here…” he pointed to the middle row, “This would fool the police, but this row here…” he pointed to the last row of bottles, “This one is what you want. This glamour would fool your husband.”

  “How do you know I want to fool my husband?” I asked as my heart leaped in my chest.

  He shrugged, non-committedly. I stared at the old farmer. His skin was wrinkled from the sun, and his eyes were milky with age. I had never once seen a werewolf that looked over fifty. Lucas was a silver fox where werewolves were concerned. Even though my nose was on the fritz, I seriously doubted I’d been made by another werewolf.

  “Let’s say I did?” I shrugged. “The price here says you only accept extremely valuable trade items as payment. I’m new here. What does that mean?”

  “Well, let’s see.” He pulled off a thick brimmed hat and made a clicking sound at the side of his mouth. “How about this. I’ll cut you a deal. Fingers are valuable. Toes are too, a little less, so maybe two toes or one finger… I guess… hmm… I can’t think of anything you could give me that I’d want besides that.” He shrugged a shoulder.

  I laughed. “How about my tonsils?”

  “Nah.” He replaced his hat. “Nothing I can do with tonsils. They’re as useless to me as they are to you. I would go so low as a ring finger, but that’s my final offer.”

  Looking at the old farmer’s expression, I realized the man was dead serious. He’d trade me one of these bottles of lotion for one of my fingers, and he thought he was cutting me a good deal.

  “You don’t need a glamour, beautiful, you’re perfect the way you are,” a low melodic voice said from behind me.

  I jumped, almost toppling forward into the stall. Gritting my teeth, I turned around to face the person who’d managed to sneak up on me, only to find the Chad Jameson impersonator standing a few feet away. The dim lights of the bar last night did the man no justice. In the daylight, the singer was a golden god. His features were bold, with prominent cheekbones, a strong chin, and deep-set eyes. The man’s hair flowed around his shoulders, and he wore a silk shirt and ripped up jeans. Clearly, the man took his rockstar impersonator job seriously.

  He grinned at me, and it was the kind of high wattage grin that was supposed to melt my panties off. He nodded to the table. “I said, you don’t need one of these lotions. You’re gorgeous.”

  “Yeah… I heard yo
u, but I’m at a loss on how to respond. It’s a backhanded compliment because you just assumed that I was considering a glamour for vanity alone. Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

  “It was definitely a pick-up line, but I don’t care if you’re vain, you have reason to be.” The singer punctuated the statement with a smile that made little butterflies take wing in my stomach. He licked his lips. “I saw you watching me last night. Want to fuck?”

  A laugh burst from me, but the guy just continued smiling. “Holy shit, are you serious?”

  “Of course, I’m always serious about fucking.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “The firehouse is only a few blocks away. I’m a fireman as well as a singer.”

  I narrowed my gaze at the Chad Jameson impersonator. “Well, I have to respect your forthrightness. How often does that line work for you?”

  The Chad impersonator ran a hand through his luscious hair and his dreamy dark blue bedroom eyes fell on mine. I got the distinct impression that he was, at this moment, imagining me naked. “I’ve only ever used that line on you. So, I’m hoping it works one hundred percent of the time.”

  “Oh, come on… I call so much bullshit on that.” I chuckled and pulled the straps on my backpack. “So, I’m guessing that line works about ten percent of the time. Prove me wrong.”

  “Ouch. You wound me,” the Chad Jameson impersonator said with a smile. He buried his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “If I add in the firefighter part, it’s worked every time.” He winked at me. “Don’t ruin the line’s track record, it couldn’t take the rejection.”

  I cringed. “Oh lordy. Look, even if the real Chad Jameson hit on me with that one, the answer would still be no, thank you.”

  The guy had managed to get on my “never in a million years” list in ten seconds flat. It was a damn shame too. This man was even sexier than the rockstar I worshiped as a teenager, if that was possible. I hadn’t had sex in a very long time, and I hadn’t had good sex in even longer than that. But, this guy’s offer was all too easy to turn down.

  I turned back to the farmer. “Sorry for this...” I gestured over to Chad. “But, I’m not going to make the trade. I need my fingers and toes.”

  The farmer tipped the brim of his hat to me. “They wouldn’t be extremely valuable if you didn’t.”

  Turning back to the singer and said, “Welp, I’m not going to fuck you, good sir, but I will ask you directions to this address.” I held up the paper and pointed to the first address on the note. “It’s a veterinary clinic. I’m guessing you’re a local.”

  The impersonator glanced at the note, and his perfect brow furrowed.

  “You’re Teagan…?” the singer trailed off and then leaned in toward me and sniffed. “You are.”

  As he did it, I got a full whiff of him, and the werewolf musk clinging to him. Fuck a mother fucking duck. How many werewolves were in this town?

  “Well, this changes things,” the rockstar impersonator said. He examined my face, and then he blew out a long breath. “I’m actually not ready for us to fuck, Teagan. I’ll need a couple of days.”

  I quickly took a step back from him, suddenly feeling more alarmed than amused. “Seriously? I already rejected your rather insulting offer. Did that not register or something?” I was this close to telling the werewolf that he could go fuck himself, but mouthing off to random werewolves was a seriously bad idea. “You know what, I’ve got this.” I held up the note. “Have a nice day.”

  I turned and jogged away from the guy, rushing through the farmer’s market. I decided not to linger anymore at the stalls. It seemed that if I was determined to keep my appendages, I was even broke in magical currency.

  Chapter Four

  The Grayhaven Veterinary Clinic took up an entire city block, and there was a line to get in. I couldn’t help but notice that very few of the people in line had a pet. Obviously, when Lucas had suggested I come before opening, it was because he had more patrons than a store giving out free shit on Black Friday. When I made it in through the door, the girl behind the desk peered up through thick platinum bangs. She looked high school age, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

  “Hello. We’re full today,” she said with a wide smile. “You’ll have to come back.”

  “I have a gift certificate,” I said, holding the paper up.

  The girl kept that disconcerting smile on her face as she looked at the note. “Uh, huh. That hand?”

  She pointed to my left.

  When I showed her my right, she nodded. “Okay… I think I understand.” She pushed back her rolling chair, gliding through the office and sticking her head into a hallway. “Dr. Wolf!” She yelled, “There’s a woman here with a gift certificate to have her hand sewn up, but she doesn’t have a wound. Am I supposed to cut her?”

  The girl produced a knife from thin air.

  “No! No,” I heard resonate from deeper in the building. A few seconds later, Lucas came stumbling out of the back while drying his hands. “Damn it, Kimmy. I said no more bringing knives into the clinic.”

  “What knife, Dr. Wolf?” The blade in the grinning teenager’s hand vanished, and if possible, the wattage on her smile increased. “I was just asking what you wanted me to do. Should I make a new pot of coffee?”

  “Yeah. Sure, Kimmy, make coffee, and then I need you to please pull the charts for the next patients on the list.” Lucas tossed his paper towel into a bin and glanced past his rather creepy admin. “Teagan.” His brows shot up. “You came?”

  “I’m a sucker for free operations. I just couldn’t resist.”

  Kimmy looked over and nodded in approval. “Is that a werewolf thing?”

  “She’s joking, Kimmy.” Lucas nodded back. “I can squeeze you in now.”

  “What the fuck?” A woman called from the waiting room. “She was here like an hour after us.”

  “Maybe you’d like to take her place?” Kimmy stood, and she flourished her fingers where the same small dagger appeared again. She turned her smile on the woman standing in the waiting room, who immediately took a seat and mumbled that she’d wait for her appointment.

  “Kimmy…” Lucas rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, “Just please put the knife away and don’t make any extra work for me. I’d like to leave at a somewhat reasonable hour. Coffee would be good.”

  I threw a thumb toward the waiting room. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, here.”

  He smiled, and I got to see why he had such prominent smile lines. A little dimple creased up his right cheek too. “I’m actually on break,” he said, “So I wouldn’t be seeing them anyway.”

  “Now I feel really bad,” I said as I headed around the desk. “Are you sure you want to sacrifice your break to do me a favor?”

  “I’m positive. Mind if I take a look?” Lucas reached out for my hand. When I set my hand in his, he cupped my palm in warm fingers and leaned over it. He pressed gently on the meat of my palm, and pain radiated out.

  I hissed in a breath.

  His soft gray eyes came up to meet mine. “I’m guessing you didn’t get all of the glass out before your hand healed, yeah?”

  “You would be correct in that assumption, Dr. Wolf.”

  “On top of that, vampire saliva doesn’t repair lacerations in the muscle. It just closed up your cut.” His lips twisted, and it was half genuine smile, half annoyance. “I want to scold you for botching your own operation when I could have fixed you up in ten minutes, but I’m not going to do that because I’m just happy that you showed up here.”

  “It’s hard for me to trust anyone who’s offering to help me without getting something from it.” I bit my lip. “Which sounds ungrateful, and I’m not.”

  “Well, I hope I’m deserving of the trust you’re putting in me today, then. How do you feel about me grabbing your height and weight?” Lucas nodded to a scale. “I’m probably just going to use a local, but you might need full anesthesia.”

  I winced inwardly. Ste
pping on a scale in front of a good-looking doctor was a recurring nightmare of mine, no matter what my weight was, but it was really the anesthesia I had an objection to. “Lucas, I’m going to need you to do this without medicine.”

  His warm grin faded. “Just so I have this right, you want me to operate on your hand without any type of anesthesia? There’s a lot of nerves in the hand, and if you move, I could easily do the kind of damage that could potentially cause loss of function in your hand.”

  I looked up into his soft gray eyes. “If you order me to stay still through the operation, I will.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “This would be disastrous to get wrong.”

  “I’m positive.” The air around us suddenly felt heavy, like Kane’s dark energy had dropped down on my shoulders.

  Lucas nodded back toward the first patient room. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  It took him a few minutes to set up his station, while I took a seat in the vacant chair.

  “So… am I supposed to be wearing one of those backless gowns?” I asked in an attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. It was a damn shame that I lost the good doctor’s smile.

  Lucas raised his head and his gaze went distant. Shame washed through me. Holy crap. Had the flirting all been in my head? Oh, crap on a stick. Was I sexually harassing the good doc in his place of employment? I opened my mouth to apologize profusely when he grinned, and his eyes met mine. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. There was no mistaking that smoldering look. The attraction was definitely mutual.

  “I don’t think that would help my concentration,” he said as he scooped up my wrist and set it on a bed of gauze. “Lay back. Get comfortable.” He set up a lamp and poured a few astringent smelling chemicals onto my skin.

  “Comfortable… okay,” I said breathlessly as I stretched out on the reclining patient chair. My heart was beating in my throat, and it took a hell of a lot of concentration just to stay put.