Alpha Knows Best: Second Chance Shifter Romance (Southern Shifters Book 3)

by Eliza Gayle

  “What the fuck?” Her head jerked up in time to see Malcolm running from behind her Jeep, skidding to a stop on the opposite side of the body. “What did you do?” He looked up at her with hard, questioning eyes.

  “Me?” she uttered in shock. “You think I did this? That I am capable of—” She shuddered.

  “I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

  She winced at the ice in his tone that chilled her, all the way to the bone. Bile rose in her throat under the constant onslaught of the blood and gore scents filling the air. In a hunt, this kind of thing never bothered her but seeing one of her own kind gutted and flayed out in front of her was a completely different story.

  She turned away, unable to look anymore when Malcolm grabbed her elbow and yanked her around. “Not so fast. You didn’t answer my question. What happened? Did Carl show up after I left and you get into it again with him?”

  She looked at him with sheer incredulity; he still thought she did this. Chey yanked her arm from his grasp and hissed at him. “I found him like this, so you don’t have to be an asshole. Hell, you were outside before me. How do I know you didn’t do this?”

  “That’s just ridiculous. Carl was a jerk, but after your little revelation in there I didn’t even have a reason to be angry with him anymore. You’ll clearly let any man touch you.”

  Chey gasped. “Why you son of a—”

  “Careful, Chey. Your bitch is showing.”

  She gritted her teeth, grinding them together to hold her tongue. This situation required a clear head and a plan. Something neither of them would find if they kept sniping at each other. Despite the calm and cold exterior he presented her with, she knew better. She’d experienced firsthand the heat raging within him and no way had he reined that in in such a short amount of time. That very rage vibrated in the energy around them, barely restrained, no matter what he claimed. Although the violent energy around the body made her uncertain of everything she sensed.

  “There’s a lot of pain and anger out here. It’s hard to sift through.” The negative waves swamped her was more like it. Her head pounded along with them.

  “That’s pretty obvious … Wait, you can feel it? You’re an empath?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and settled his gaze on her face, looking and waiting.

  “Yes, somewhat. All of my family is, in one way or another. Being a half-breed does have its perks.” She couldn’t resist the barb. They normally called themselves hybrids but he’d become insistent on the half-breed term. He’d definitely burrowed under her skin and she couldn’t shake it.

  Precious seconds ticked by as he continued to stare at her, as if searching for some mysterious answer. “Who are you then?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’ve been calling me a half-breed for half a decade in case you’ve forgotten because I sure as hell haven’t. Although in some circles my bloodline is considered an asset.”

  Malcolm snorted. “Yeah, the circles who hire killers.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No thanks; you already did.”

  Chey’s head pounded. Pain whipped through every cell of her body at the reminder of what she’d become. Not a killer but that didn’t absolve the blood on her hands. She grabbed her head and slid to her knees. Violence swirled around her. Her body was in overload mode and couldn’t take much more before shutting down.

  “What’s going on?” The mistrust in Malcolm’s question turned her stomach.

  “Just fucking give me a minute and leave me alone.”

  Thankfully he shut his mouth. Blood thundered in her ears as the anxiety rose to a dangerous level. She needed to distract herself and damned quick. Malcolm paced around the body that lay between them and moved closer. Involuntarily, she recoiled. To her he looked every inch the predator she knew him to be, stalking his prey. If he did this she needed to get away now. Chey had no intention of getting trapped in his claws.

  “How come you smell more like cougar than wolf? It took me a while when I first started hunting you to even figure it out. You’re different than the others. How?”

  She stumbled over something on the ground but was afraid to look down sure it would be a loose foot or worse. “Stop this. There’s a dead body lying at your front door and you are questioning me? Stop looking for trouble where there is none. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous why? I left you in the house, told you to leave and I come back to this, you standing over a dead cougar’s body.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake. You left me for what? All of five minutes?”

  “Try at least twenty. And this kill is easily that fresh.”

  “Which makes you as much of a suspect as me.”

  “Except one thing.” He paused and she waited. “Neither one of us has a drop of blood on them.”

  She narrowed her eyes and contemplated his suggestion while she sought out his energy. There wasn’t much. Somehow he shielded from her. “You must be familiar with an empath’s ability. You’re quite adept at shielding from it.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?” His hand raked through his unruly hair. “I’m just standing here waiting for you to say something. Maybe you should take a break from your woo woo stuff and just tell me what you saw.” He took another step forward until he was close enough that either of them could have reached for the other, except they didn’t. Instead, the virtual distance between them grew as he eyed her suspiciously. What exactly had he done after he’d left her in such a rage? She’d never witnessed a more angry man and changing clothes at his own house would not be difficult. No, Malcolm couldn’t talk his way out of this one yet.

  She kept quiet. He made it crystal clear that whatever she said wasn’t going to make a difference. For now they were at an impasse. Chey averted her eyes from Malcolm and glanced at the issue at hand. She couldn’t wish this mess away now. They were going to have to work together to deal with this one. A cougar death normally brought out an investigation team and the damn council would be hopping to get involved when they found out about it.

  She tipped her head and met Malcolm’s gaze. The fierce intensity she recognized made her want to squirm, something she managed to resist with every fiber of her pride. His attempts at intimidation only annoyed her, making her want to poke at him. Unfortunately, the image of pain flashing in his eyes when she’d told him about John gnawed relentlessly at her guilt, giving her no peace at all. She somehow felt obligated to tell him the rest, dissuade his anger a little, but damn it, those were her private thoughts that she wasn’t ready to share with him or anyone else for that matter.

  So why did she want to reach for him? The arms he crossed aggressively over his chest should be wrapped around her as he kissed her and held on to her. She imagined the light hair sprinkled across his arm sliding against her soft and silky until she purred for him. Chey grabbed her head and dropped her gaze. She couldn’t keep looking and thinking of him like that or she’d be launching her body against his, begging his forgiveness for everything she’d said. Her temples pounded as her thoughts ran rampantly through her mind, not letting up for a second.

  She had to move away from the body and its violent energy before the pain in her head worsened. Her reasoning sounded hollow even to her because it wasn’t the murder that held her under a firestorm of emotions. No, that honor belonged to the unscrupulous black haired devil standing in front of her, not letting her go.

  Fingers snapped in front of her face bringing her back from her thoughts. “Chey, where’d ya go?” She blinked at him before realizing that she’d been so lost in her own head she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  He frowned down at her, impatience crossing his face. “This is a serious situation we’ve got here. Do you think you could pay attention for a few minutes?” The biting words snapped from his mouth caused her to cringe. His constant desire to be in control of their situation bristled against her own struggle to make sense of the mes
s.

  “I know you’re frustrated and you’re not alone in that but snapping at me isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to work together on this.” She moved away from Malcolm then, hoping to ease both their need. The smell of sex clung to their skins, and, despite his anger and pain, or maybe because of it, along with her feeling some of the same, their animals were drawn and still attracted.

  Maybe the best thing she could do for the both of them at this point would be to leave. That had been her plan all along so why not? She could contact Kane from the road and let him know what happened. Hiding this would be impossible. Better to get a cleaner in here as quickly as possible. If she ended up a suspect, her own family would send an investigator. It was customary.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Once again, she’d gotten caught up in her mind, swamped with a range of emotion and violence she could barely think through. She looked down to see her hand resting on the warm metal of her Jeep. Her protective instincts had told her to flee and that’s what she’d been about to do.

  “I think I should leave.” In the blink of an eye he was behind her, pressing his body against hers, heat flaming between them.

  “I don’t think so. Not until I have some answers and we get this mess cleaned up. Before you showed up, things were smooth and calm. Now they’ve gone to shit. You aren’t just walking away.”

  “Then I’d better make a phone call.” She didn’t bother to argue. Fatigue was setting in.

  “Going to tell him what you did? Or will you try to hide the fact you fucked another man?” A rough hand grabbed her arm from the door and yanked it behind her back, pinning her in place.

  Her body went rigid at the vicious, pain-filled tone of his voice. He thought she wanted to call her mate. Chey exhaled a slow breath, calming her racing heart as she relaxed her body against his. She refused to be baited. Now it was his turn to go rigid as the muscles rippled and hardened under his skin and pressed against her back.

  “It’s not what you think, I need to explain—”

  “Don’t. It is what it is but until we figure this out you’re not leaving my sight.” Chey’s eyes slid closed as she blocked out the bad and focused on the delicious good that he created every time he touched her. Touching Malcolm anymore was so not a good idea, but with her arm locked behind her back and his mouth just above her ear, she couldn’t think straight. Thank Goddess the overpowering stench of coagulating blood and an already decaying body reminded her of the trouble they faced. As far as she knew, she could very well be in the arms of a murderer. He’d been alone just as long as her and would be considered a suspect as well.

  She’d read his file and knew for a fact that he could be a cold-hearted bastard when he wanted to be. He’d proven again and again he could be a ruthless man when he thought the end result justified the means. And so far, he’d narrowly escaped imprisonment or worse. His status as a black cougar saved him more than once, a fact that burned her up. Just because a person was lucky by birth shouldn’t excuse all the bad things they did.

  Then she’d foolishly agreed to this mission and her world turned upside down. Again.

  Memories of him taking her there in his house up against the wall assaulted her. The encounter had been more brutal and delicious than anything she’d experienced, even with John. More vicious guilt stabbed through her head. No matter how much the experience affected either of them, the memory of her dead husband haunted her. Whatever this violent need between her and Malcolm meant, it had to stop. She couldn’t go back there.

  “Do you think you can really stop me if I want to leave?” She gritted out the words.

  “You don’t want to test me like that, you won’t like the results. But to answer your question, yes if I decide you can’t leave then you won’t.”

  His words left no room for compromise and part of her liked the fact that he had that much confidence.

  “Pretty arrogant for a man who thinks I just killed and gutted another of our kind. What makes you so sure you would be safe?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you? I’m not some ordinary female you can just order around at your whim. Just because I let you dominate me a little during sex, doesn’t mean shit in a situation like this. I can take care of myself.”

  His voice lowered at her ear. “So tell me then… What am I dealing with?”

  Chey was tired of trying to explain herself. The man couldn’t be any more arrogant if he tried so she would just have to show him. Make him understand exactly what he was dealing with.

  She relaxed, letting the tension ease from her body as the familiar burn rushed across her skin. White fur covered her arms and hands and the features of her body shifted only as far as she would allow them.

  Malcolm’s hands dropped away from her and he stepped back, leaving her to catch herself against the Jeep to prevent from falling to the ground. “What the hell?”

  She turned her head and met his gaze head on, watching his eyes widen at the sight of what she knew to be opaque blue eyes, surrounded by a thin bright white coat of hair. Wolf’s eyes. She stopped the change there and waited for his next reaction.

  “You’re a—” He snapped his mouth shut, not finishing his sentence.

  “What? An anomaly? A freak? Or why not go all out for the abomination, everyone else does.” Chey closed her eyes and visualized the fur gone and replaced by the pale skin of the human until she was certain it was done. She’d made her point; there was no reason to prolong it. It was more than wolf’s blood she carried. She could also shift at will between her two animals.

  She fished into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone, punching in the number before holding it up to her ear. Malcolm stood speechless two feet away while the phone at the other end began to ring in her ear. The heavy weight of disappointment at his reaction pounded in her head taking up residence with the residual violence of the scene. She really needed to get away from here.

  “Hello.”

  “We have a problem.” She heard the sigh at the other end and hoped he was in a good mood. She and Malcolm were likely going to need his support.

  “Tell me.”

  “The man you sent to follow me is dead. I found him at Malcolm’s doorstep this morning.”

  “What man? I didn’t send anyone else but you. Are we dealing with a human casualty?”

  “He said you sent him. And no, he’s a cougar plus.”

  Silence.

  “I thought you found him dead? How did he say who sent him?” Chey ground her teeth together in frustration. Kane sounded genuinely surprised; it was obvious in his voice pattern.

  “I ran into him a few hours ago. We had words then Malcolm interrupted and they had words.”

  “And by words I don’t imagine you mean a friendly chat?”

  “What do you think? The idea of someone following me to make sure I did my job pissed me off.”

  “I didn’t send anyone. I knew if anyone could get him back here it would be you. Fucking A, Chey!”

  Realization slammed into her. She’d known exactly what he thought made her uniquely qualified for this job and he’d set her up for a reason. Hell, anyone with a tranq gun could probably have grabbed Malcolm and possibly even avoided this new mess. “Well, whoever sent the little fucker, he’s now dead. How do you want me to proceed?” She listened as Kane spoke for several minutes before he finally hung up. She flipped her own phone closed and turned to tell Malcolm what to expect. Her head swiveled right and left to nothing. He’d disappeared.

  Reluctant to get too close to the body, she walked the long way around to the back of the house and knocked on the door there. He’d better be there.

  “It’s open.”

  Malcolm stood at the low bar against the back wall pouring a generous glass of what looked like whiskey.

  “Want some?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t much of a drinker but the occasion seemed to call
for it.

  He splashed some liquid into a second tumbler and handed it over without a word. He took the seat across the room and they sat in silence drinking their alcohol and no doubt reliving the image of the mangled body outside.

  “So what did he say?” His question brought her out of her thoughts and back into the here and now she wanted to avoid. The tension in the room that still carried the scent of their sex was so thick it was hard to think straight.

  “Not to move the body and that someone would be flying in within the hour.” He nodded. “Is leaving the body like it is going to cause any problems? We don’t want to have to deal with the regular authorities as well.”

  “Ranger station is closed today but you never know who might wander in. I should probably do something to cover it up. I think I’ve got some tarps out in the garage that’ll do the trick.”

  She set her drink on the table and stood to help him. “Cool, let’s get it over with.”

  “No, I can do this myself,” he snapped, his eyes blazing.

  She held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, be all He-Man about it. I’d rather not look at the body again if I can help it.”

  She swiped at the glass bringing it up to her lips and gulping down the rest of it in one swallow. The liquid burned its way down her throat all the way to her belly and she didn’t care. Whatever it took to ease the emotions Malcolm aroused in her whether it be anger or lust, it was going to drive her mad if she didn’t get out soon.

  Chapter Five

  Malcolm rifled through the garage, pushing things out of his way with a little more force than necessary. His emotions were out of control and he had no idea how to stop it.

  Between the dead body at his doorstop and the rage over his mate’s betrayal, his body burned from the inside out. For a brief moment in time, he’d believed an end to his miserable existence had arrived. No one completely understood the implications of an actual bond mate, but he’d had a chance to find out. But she was already mated so why the fuck did his body burn even worse for a woman that belonged to another?