Bite the Big Heartache: Werewolf Shifter Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 2)

by Lacy Andersen

  “Well, you would require more work than my average suitor,” Madge said with a slight nod of her head.

  “Exactly!” He opened the door for her and held himself back from shoving her out the door. “And how would that do for your matchmaking business? Word travels, you know. Might want to start with the others first.”

  She stepped over the door frame and glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know, maybe that would be a better choice. Make sure she’s getting the best available.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Billy smiled to himself and waved at her through the screen door. “Have a good night, Madge.”

  She toddled off and he turned to lean his back against the door, taking another sip of his cold drink. A grin lit up his face and he shook his head. What a day. It was no wonder old Rick had taken an early retirement. Living next to a witch was no easy business.

  Luckily for him, the rest of Molodoy consisted of mostly werewolves in the Fang pack. His parents had belonged to that pack. He had, too, once upon a time. But his folks had long since passed and now all that remained of his tiny family was his baby sister who lived in their parents’ old home on Cherry Street.

  Billy was eyeing the loving embrace of his worn leather recliner when the door behind him burst open, nearly upending him on the concrete steps of his porch. Thanks to his wolf-like grace, he managed to stay on two feet and didn’t even spill a drop of his drink.

  “Don’t think you can deceive me so easily, Billy Finley.” Madge’s husky voice grated on his ears as she stuck a finger in his face and chased him back into his home. She hobbled around on her creaky knees, a scowl etched on her face. “This witch can still hold her own against the big boys, let me assure you.”

  He retreated behind the couch and held his hands up in surrender. Normally, he wasn’t the type of guy to give into any type of intimidation, but witchy Madge was a different story. Not only did she look frail enough to snap in two, but she’d assisted his mom a time or two over the years, especially during her final days. He couldn’t just bare his teeth and order her to leave.

  “I can’t, Madge,” he said, fixing her with a pleading stare. “I can’t date this Mary. I can’t date anyone. I just can’t.”

  She stopped her tirade and raised her sparse eyebrows to stare back at him. Her paper-thin lips twisted to one corner of her mouth in thought as they maintained eye contact, until finally she broke into a dreadful sigh.

  “Oh, my dear, I can see with my own eyes that you’re not ready to move on,” she exclaimed, nodded her head. “Understandable. I shall take you out of my listings for now. In a few more months, we’ll see how you fair.” She wiggled her fingers over the book in her arms and it disappeared.

  Billy didn’t care that he’d only bought himself a few more months of relative peace. He’d take it. Once again, he ushered the woman toward the door. This time, she went willingly and the sound of the screen door slamming made the tension in his shoulders melt away.

  He was about to plop down on his couch and scan through the television channels when he heard Madge’s voice again. Sighing, he dropped the remote and headed toward the door.

  What now?

  “And what can I help you with today, young lady?” Madge had a slight coo in her voice, as if she were a sales rep at a beauty counter.

  “Does a William live here, ma’am?”

  Billy planted his feet and cocked his head to the side. The woman’s voice sounded awful familiar — like the remnants of a memory long faded. It made a rush of feelings go through his stomach that were at once confusing and warm.

  Rushing to the screen door, he peered through to see a beautiful young woman standing on his sidewalk. She had skin the color of caramel, an oval face, and wide eyes. Long, curly brown hair haloed her head and a blue flowery dress fluttered around her knees in the slight breeze. A sleek black Lincoln was parked on the street behind her, with windows tinted so dark he couldn’t tell if any more passengers resided within. Pushing open the door, he squinted his eyes to get a better look.

  “Why, yes, I believe so,” Madge was telling the lady. She pointed back at him. “This is Billy Finley. His father named him William, after the great werewolf martyr who led the revolution in France during the sixteen hundreds.”

  The woman’s gaze shot up to his and when their eyes met something snapped inside Billy’s chest. Recognition lit up on both their faces and he had to use the door frame for support.

  “Billy...Billy Finley?” the woman asked in a trembling voice.

  “Princess Stasia.” He’d meant to growl her name, but it came out sounding way more pathetic than he’d intended.

  “I didn’t...I didn’t realize William was your real name,” Stasia blurted, her eyes darting to the ground and back up to his face.

  “It is.” He leaned his shoulder on the wall and crossed his arms to hide the sudden weakness in his muscles.

  A cackling noise drew both their attentions. Madge was looking at them with laughter in her eyes, an age-spotted hand clasped over her mouth.

  “So, this is the reason why you had no interest in my Mary. You should’ve just said so, young man,” the witch croaked, shaking a finger at him. Her lips broke into a crooked smile. “Oooh, I’ve got to go consult my sister on this matter. Check with the spirit realms. See if this relationship is meant to be.”

  Heat flared in his cheeks. “No, that’s not the reason. I told you...”

  But the rest of what he said didn’t matter. For an ancient thing, Madge moved remarkably quick. She’d already hustled down the driveway and was well on her way back to her tiny little house just on the other side of the grove of trees.

  Unbidden, his gaze returned to Stasia’s. She was staring at him with her wide-eyes, emotions flashing through them so quickly he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She took a hesitant step forward and then paused.

  “Billy, it’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, yes it has.” He nodded his head slowly and pursed his lips. “But, not long enough.”

  And with that, he closed the door in her face and bolted it.

  Chapter Three

  Stasia’s whole body shook as she marched back to the town car. She couldn’t tell if it was from anger, shock, or the resurgence of painful memories. Either way, she could barely grasp the handle of the front passenger door. When she finally got it open, she fell into the black leather interior of the vehicle.

  “Dude, what’s the deal with you? Did you find him?” Maxim, Stasia’s twenty-year-old brother, peered at her from the driver’s seat. He tossed his shaggy, dishwater blond hair out of his face and pierced her with a quizzical expression.

  “Nothing. And yep.”

  She glared out the window at the ramshackle home with the giant two-bay garage attached to the side. Large sheets of multicolored corrugated metal had been used as siding and the garage doors appeared warped and beat up. A big pickup with a smashed-in hood lingered in the driveway. The front yard desperately needed a manicure and there was a half-dead old pine leaving a carpet of brown needles on top on his peeling roof.

  It was the last place she’d expected to run into Billy again. A man who couldn’t be loyal to a friend if he tried. She’d learned once what confiding in Billy Finley meant. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  What a nightmare.

  “Let’s find a hotel,” she said with a cleansing breath, turning back to her brother.

  Anything to take her mind off that painful reunion.

  She’d refused to bring a guard along for her trip and agreeing to take her younger brother along was the only way she could placate her parents. Any chance to get out of the castle without their royal parents was a win for him. She’d warned him profusely that this was a serious job and that under no circumstances was he to ruin it for her.

  Despite his promises, she still had her doubts about his ability to control himself. He’d only been a werewolf for two years now, since his lunar ceremo
ny, and young werewolves had a terrible reputation for being reckless. Still, she needed a driver to get around Molodoy. At thirty-five years of age, she hadn’t found the courage to try for her license. Something about having complete control over a giant metal piece of machinery scared the skittles out of her.

  “Okay, Sis.” Maxim shot her a wolfish grin and shoved the stick into DRIVE. “Whatever you say, Sis.”

  He peeled out onto the street and Stasia had to grasp the armrest to steady herself. Cursing under her breath, she glanced at her cameraman, Vinny, snoring loudly from the back seat. The abrupt movement of the car hadn’t even stirred him from his sleep. It hadn’t taken Stasia long to learn that he wasn’t a man of many words and to not expect a lot of chatter from the older werewolf.

  “I see a motel up ahead,” her brother said, squinting through the windshield.

  They drove down Main Street, a collection of old brick buildings consisting of a town bar, a convenience store, and a few odds and ends. At the end of the street was a quaint single-story motel that had at least six rooms with outside access and a cheery sign above the lobby office that said Molodoy Motel Welcomes You in bright pink cursive lettering.

  “Fabulous,” Stasia said as they pulled to a stop in the parking lot. “Get us each a room and unload the luggage. I’ve got somewhere I need to check out.”

  Maxim groaned and pierced her with his blue gaze. “I didn’t sign up for this trip to be your bell boy.”

  “It’s too late to back out now, brother of mine.”

  She looked down at her watch. It was well past supper time and the weekend was just beginning. If she knew anything about small towns, it was that now would be her best chance of gathering information on Billy from the locals. Despite knowing what she knew now about this case, her resolve had only hardened to get the job done. And she had to utilize her time here wisely.

  Her brother rubbed a hand over the beginnings of a scruffy beard on his chin and sighed, but didn’t argue. Stasia left him to it and hoofed it over the broken sidewalk toward the heart of downtown. Her first stop was the convenience store, which would be closing in ten minutes. A bell tinkled when she strolled through the door and a woman with long silver and brown hair greeted her from the counter.

  “Can I help you find anything today?” she asked, a warm smile on her face.

  “Um...no that’s okay.” Stasia picked up the nearest thing within her grasp, which happened to be a pair of wool socks, and went to plop them on the counter. If she knew anything about being a reporter, it was that information didn’t come free. “I’ll take these.”

  The woman’s gaze ran from Stasia’s gladiator sandals and up her blue cotton dress that hung off one shoulder. She looked at her questioningly and held up the socks. “Planning on doing some hiking?”

  “No, my feet get cold,” Stasia lied, nibbling on her bottom lip. She hated to fib. She had no talent for it and it made the contents of her stomach start to swirl.

  “Okay, honey.” She punched a few buttons on the register and it dinged. “Thirteen forty is your total.”

  Stasia tugged her wallet out of her back pocket and handed over the cash. When the woman handed over a plastic bag with the socks inside, Stasia leaned casually on the countertop and looked down at her fingernails that she’d chewed down to the beds on the ride over that day.

  “I don’t suppose you know anything about Billy Finley coming back to town? Or why things didn’t work out so well with his new pack?”

  The air in the room suddenly went cold and Stasia glanced up to see the smile melt from the woman’s face.

  “I don’t know no Billy Finley,” she answered, although the hardness in her eyes said otherwise.

  “Alright.” Stasia held up her hands and backed toward the door. “Thank you for your time.”

  There was no warm goodbye. The cashier watched her like a hawk until she was well out of the shop and past the large front windows. Even the hot evening breeze couldn’t chase away the chill of that meeting. Stasia shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms, working her way down the street.

  Getting information was going to be harder than she thought. A small community like Molodoy could wrap itself around a member tighter than plastic cling on her sister Renata’s famous iced sugar cookies. It was no wonder Myra had such trouble getting information from her sources. Billy’s community must’ve shut down any whispers of his presence and stonewalled anyone who dared prod for answers.

  The image of Billy standing in that doorway flashed in front of Stasia’s eyes again, hitting her like a punch in the gut. The man who’d answered the door was a far cry from the gangly and awkward seventeen-year-old boy she remembered. He’d grown at least six inches in the past eighteen years and filled out in all the right places, taking up nearly the entire doorway with his muscular and hardened body. His face had lost the roundness of youth and, from what she could see under that scraggly beard, grown angular and strong. Still, his eyes were the same — sea green and piercing. As if he could look right through her.

  Another chill went through her and she hurried toward the bar on the other side of the street. If no one was going to help her get more information on Billy and why he abandoned his pack in America, then she had no other choice but to hunt down the one informant who might throw her a bone. It was a long-shot and definitely not one that would win Billy over to her side anytime soon, but Myra had entrusted this job to her and she was going to nail it.

  Stasia hesitantly stepped over the threshold of the bar. The place was everything she imagined a small-town bar to be: two pool tables in the corner, a long row of bar seating, a scuffed-up dance floor, three dart boards, and a crowd of strangers who went silent the moment they spotted her. She shot them a nervous smile and lowered her head, making a beeline for the old bartender pouring a beer behind the counter.

  “What can I get you?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  “A Shirley Temple,” she said in an all-too-cheery voice.

  He eyed her sourly, but began to mix the drink. Stasia propped herself up on one of the bar stools and did a quick scan of the crowd. Most of them had gone back to their drinks and conversation, but a few still gave her the distrustful stare of a neighborhood watchman. She was about to ask the bartender if he knew where her informant lived, when something near the furthest dart board caught her eye.

  A small woman with blonde hair sticking crazily out of two buns on the sides of her head was jumping up and down. She had a drink in hand that was getting seriously close to sloshing out of her cup. A skin-tight tank top and the shortest denim shorts Stasia had ever seen was all she wore. Her feet were bare and the hint of a half-moon tattoo played peak-a-boo on her shoulder blade.

  “Ashley?” Stasia slid off her stool and made her way across the room. “Is that you?”

  The woman stopped her bouncing and squinted at her. There was a long moment of silence. Stasia could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Then, with a shriek, she threw her drink and wrapped Stasia in a bone-crushing hug.

  “Stasia?” She screamed in her ear and hugged her again. “Is that really you?”

  “Yep, it’s me.” Stasia gasped for air.

  “Never thought you’d set foot back in this village,” Ashley said, her words slightly slurred. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Stasia looked her over again. Despite the years that had passed, Ashley still looked much the same as when they were kids. She was amazed to run into her old friend and possible informant just moments after thinking of her.

  “Guess what, everyone?” Ashley pinned Stasia with a one-armed hug and swung her to face the rest of the bar. “My dear friend, Princess Anastasia Pavlosky, has come to Molodoy.”

  There was a cheer and then a raising of glasses. Stasia bared her teeth in as big of a smile as she could muster under the circumstances. It hadn’t been her intention to reveal her true identity, but the word was out. She only hoped it would
help her case.

  “But wait.” Ashley turned her forcefully by the shoulders so that their faces were only inches apart. She gazed blurry-eyed at her. “Does my brother know you’re here?”

  Stasia slowly nodded her head and her eyes grew wide and helpless. No use keeping that a secret.

  “That’s no good,” Ashley mumbled under her breath. “Not good at all. Billy won’t want me talking to you. He’ll be as angry as a hornet.”

  Stasia shrugged, feeling her last hope fade away. If she couldn’t get Billy’s sister on her side, she might as well throw in the towel right now.

  “Well...” Ashley picked up her drink, took a large gulp, and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. She grinned at Stasia and humor twinkled in her eye. “Good thing my big brother doesn’t scare me.”

  Chapter Four

  Billy pulled his old Ford over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He rolled his shoulders and glared at his reflection in the rear view mirror. Downtown was the last place he wanted to be — especially on a night like tonight. But he’d promised his buddy Garret Child he’d join him for a round of pool and calling in a rain check three times in a row on a guy like Garret just wasn’t the smart thing to do.

  So, he put on his big boy pants and headed into Molodoy’s only bar. As it was Friday night, a good portion of its population were already present and the dance floor crowded. However, despite the press of bodies, it didn’t take him long to spot his friend at the bar.

  “Billy Finley!” Garret slapped him hard on the back with his huge hand. “I was beginning to think I’d have to hunt you down and drag you out of that shack for a game.”

  He scowled and dragged himself up onto a bar stool. “I made it, didn’t I?”

  “That you did.” Garret didn’t seem phased by his friend’s grumpy demeanor.