by Lola Glass
Roman stalked forward, chest heaving as his fingernails morphed into claws and fur sprouted from his ears. Jamie was close at his heels, angry but not halfway shifted.
“Go, Henley.” Roman’s voice was more growl than voice.
Yeah, right. Like I’d leave my babysitter-slash-friend injured on the ground.
While the men faced off, I rushed over to London. My fingers found the pulse on her neck and I leaned forward so my ear hovered over her mouth. When I heard breathing, I finally let out a breath of my own and turned back to the fight.
Jamie was facing off with the bloody guy, Roman against the one who’d cornered us.
Jamie’s fist slammed into his stomach and she swerved under his arm, dodging the punch he aimed for her throat. She planted a foot and spun, kicking the place she’d punched. He took two steps backward and she leaped toward him, fingers shifting to claws as she went for his throat.
The man jumped backward, his own claws slashing toward her. Jamie lunged to the side and got the first cut in, her claws slicing over the spot she’d likely bruised on his stomach.
My attention swerved to Roman as thick black fur erupted from his skin. He tackled the man—who was still in the process of shifting—and snarled in his face. The sand-colored wolf snapped at Roman’s neck and used the moment the Alpha dodged to escape Roman’s grip.
Roman’s teeth closed over the other guy’s tail and a pained yelp echoed through the parking garage. The scent of blood filled the air as he ripped it right off. The other guy howled, lunging for Roman. His claws caught Roman on the side, but Roman rolled away so fast I didn’t think the wound would be deep.
When the guy snapped at Roman again, Roman bit down on the wolf’s throat and put an end to the threat.
The sandy wolf shifted back into his human form as he died. Roman stepped off of his body and stretched his neck upward, eyes colliding with mine before he turned to make sure Jamie was alright.
She and the other werewolf seemed evenly matched, trading blow for blow, although Jamie was bleeding a lot less. Roman didn’t move to help her, simply watching with his body tense and ready to jump in if necessary.
He trusted her to take care of herself.
With a quick spin, Jamie ducked under the man’s arm and slashed her claws across his throat. He reached for her arm before collapsing on the ground, and she dodged deftly.
“Henley?” London groaned, one hand lifting to her head. She wasn’t bleeding but was already developing some gnarly bruises.
“I’m alive.” I patted her arm awkwardly. “So are you.”
Roman and Jamie came over, both wearing neutral expressions though Jamie’s chest was still heaving.
“Where was he from?” Jamie crouched beside us, her fingers moving to London’s throat to check her pulse like I had. London swatted her hand away.
“How would I know?” London muttered.
“Wisconsin or Maine.” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
“Probably. There are a couple states I haven’t been to, so it could also be one of those. But Wisconsin and Maine are safe bets.” I explained, stumbling over the words.
“You’re bleeding.” I told Roman when he stepped up to me as Jamie helped London to her feet. The model was unsteady but refused more help than Jamie’s. Blood coated his face and neck, but that happened to people around me often enough not to freak me out.
“I’m fine.” He brushed it off.
The smell of his blood was a metallic and much more potent version of his natural scent. If it hadn’t meant he was injured, it would’ve turned me on.
“In hindsight, you may have been slightly right about needing guards.” I met Roman’s gaze. He lifted an eyebrow.
“Slightly?”
I didn’t mention the blood on his face. It made it easier to fight my attraction to him anyway.
“Slightly.” I nodded my confirmation. His lips twitched. Standing, I brushed my hands off on my pants and examined my arms. Looked like I’d be covered in bruises nearly as gnarly as London’s. “Where are the other enforcers? And how’d you manage to keep this place clear of humans?”
“Kyler and Jett went to find them. I’d have felt it if they died, so they’re fine. And keeping humans out is easy—all it takes is money.” Roman studied my bruises, gently taking one of my wrists and using it to turn my arm so he could see the evidence of the attack. A growl rumbled his chest, and I felt it through our barely-connected limbs.
“They’re just bruises.” I pulled my wrist from Roman’s grip. “Those guys weren’t the first people to come after me, and they won’t be the last.” I pushed a wild chunk of hair from my eyes. “Let’s go back to the skyscraper. I’m not hungry anymore.”
A glance at the bodies told me that wouldn’t be possible just yet. Nausea turned my stomach at the thought of moving a dead body. Though I wasn’t new to death, I’d never been around for the afterward.
“I’ll take care of them. You can wait in the car.” Roman called over his shoulder as he strolled toward the bodies like he wasn’t still bleeding.
Pride told me to put my big girl panties on and go help, but nausea defeated pride. I slipped into the passenger seat of the kidnapper van, looking out the window. Nothing outside held my attention, but I made it a point not to look into the back of the van. There was no point in dwelling on the pain that I both caused and suffered.
Roman put the bodies in the back—at least, I assumed so based on the sounds—and came around to take the driver’s seat. He’d managed to find the keys, and I chose not to ask questions.
We were pulling into the parking garage before either of us spoke.
“I’m sorry.” Roman said. I didn’t take him for the kind of guy who apologized often.
“If anyone should apologize, it’s me.” I slipped out of the van. “Thanks for saving me from that other pack. There are worse people I could be stuck with.”
I left Roman—and myself—with that.
SEVEN
The next two weeks went by uneventfully. I worked at the club, watched Netflix, and finally got around to reassembling the luxury that was my apartment. After the near-abduction, I texted Arla to ask if the skyscraper had a gym. When she confirmed it, I made it a point to get down there and spend some time on the treadmill every day so I’d be a little more ready for the fight.
I looked up a few gyms that offered MMA classes and judo and stuff, but because we were smack in the middle of the city everything was crazy expensive and entirely full.
Friday, my phone vibrated with a text message while I was doing the dishes and jamming out to some music.
I shook water off my hands and grabbed the phone, sandwiching it between my shoulder and ear.
ARLA: Pack get-together at our upstate neighborhood tonight. You’re on the guest list.
ME: Bad idea given my unfortunate smell
ARLA: You smell like sex, Henley. Not garbage.
ME: Think I’d rather smell like a dumpster
ARLA: All the enforcers are needed to keep the peace. You’re coming even if I have to hogtie you and throw you in the back of Roman’s truck
ME: Doubt you know how to hogtie
ARLA: I’ll be at your door in an hour
ARLA: With pizza
ME: Don’t put pineapple on it
Sure enough, Arla and her enforcers showed up at my apartment door with two boxes of apology pizza an hour later. One was a pineapple abomination, so they really only brought one pizza.
It was enough to convince me to go, though. On top of the part where I’d be safest wherever the largest number of strong dudes with a reason to protect me were.
The drive upstate was only a few hours, and the scenery was beautiful. Plus, Arla and I drove with the three female enforcers—Jamie, London, and Lilac—so it was kind of a party in the car.
When we got there, the neighborhood was already swarming with werewolves.
Arla parked in front of the house she
and Roman shared in the pack’s neighborhood, and all of us girls headed inside to meet the male enforcers and Alpha. The house was gigantic, as expected, covered in pretty white siding and big windows as well as a wrap-around porch. Roman was already giving his enforcers instructions on keeping the peace when we walked in.
London and Jamie’s mates towed them and the other two female enforcers out of the house, off to their respective lookout positions. That left Arla, Lilac, and me with Roman and Kyler, who were having a conversation on the other side of the room.
Arla’s phone rang. The yelling on the other line was an immediate red flag. She grabbed my arm and pulled the phone away from her ear.
“Stay by Roman.” She ordered, and then noticed my eyes narrow at her command. “If you don’t want a bunch of horny idiots humping you all day, stay by Roman.”
When she put it that way, I wanted nothing more than to glue myself to his side.
Arla rushed out the door, waving over her shoulder at us as she went while talking rapidly into her phone.
“I’m so jealous.” Lilac muttered as she tugged me toward the men. Her voice lifted as their conversation ended. “You look as hot as ever, Rome. You ready to make this thing official yet?” She winked at him, brushing her hair behind her shoulders to emphasize the cleavage her tight pink shirt displayed. “You just say the word and I’m up for getting down and dirty up against any random wall.”
My eyebrows lifted.
Girl had balls.
All the wine she’d downed on the way there definitely contributed to her ballsiness, but still.
“Come on, Lilac.” Kyler flung his arm over her shoulder and steered her toward the front door. “Team unmated for the win again.” He dragged her out of there too quickly for her to make another awkward comment.
Roman’s grimace was so deep he could’ve buried a penny in his frown lines.
“You guys make a cute couple.” I joked. It came out sounding more like an accusation.
Curse my wolfy-side for caring about the monster of a man.
His eyes narrowed, and I smirked.
Two steps was all it took for the big bad Alpha to cross the room and step up so close to me our chests would brush if I dared breathe in.
Which I didn’t.
Part of me expected him to jerk me closer or yank me around, like any other Alpha.
Instead, he used one finger to tilt my face up so my gaze met those sexy blue eyes of his.
One.
Damn.
Finger.
Who was this guy and what happened to him being a freaking Alpha?
“There never has been and never will be anything between me and Lilac.” His words caressed my forehead and damn it, it turned me the hell on.
“Your love life—or lack of it—is none of my business.” I smacked his finger away with the back of my hand and stepped away, arms folding over my chest. Whatever was going on between us, I still refused to acknowledge it and/or admit it.
Roman looked like he wanted to say something, but a knock at the door ended the conversation. With one last, long gaze, he strode to the front door and tugged it open.
“Why does your house smell like sex?” a guy in his twenties stepped past Roman, a few other guys with him. Roman wouldn’t have let them past if he didn’t consider them safe, so I didn’t tell them to take a hike.
Five sets of eyes landed on me at once. Plus Roman’s.
“You’re gorgeous.” A blond guy with tattoos on every inch of exposed skin other than his face stated, staring at me unabashedly. I was definitely into the punk-rock vibes he gave off.
“So are you.”
A low growl came from Roman, soft enough I almost convinced myself I hadn’t heard anything at all.
Almost.
The other guys shooting him strange looks gave away the truth I was trying not to acknowledge.
“This is Henley Clark.” Roman stood beside me, hands slipping casually in his pockets. The man made sweat pants and a faded t-shirt look hot. He knew full and well that he was the strongest guy in the room but didn’t feel the need to throw his power around, and damn was that sexy.
“Henley Clark, why does your scent make me even hornier than usual?” Tattoo guy prowled closer. I ignored the feel of Roman’s gaze burning into me like a laser.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t smell like this anymore.”
Roman stepped closer, his arm brushing mine. The barely-there contact was so much hotter than if he’d just grabbed me.
“You’re the girl they call Wolfsbane, aren’t you?” Another guy asked. I shot him a glare and let my voice reflect my hatred for the nickname.
“It’s Henley.”
“We are in the presence of a legend, boys.” The tatted blond reached toward me, and I eyed his hand in warning. If he touched me, he’d get a knee in the balls. Punk rock or not, random people didn’t get to touch me.
“I know you’re here to ask for something. Spit it out, Zack.” Roman knocked the guy’s hand away from me. He’d probably seen the murder threat in my eyes. Or he just didn’t want anyone touching me. The former sounded safer than the latter so I decided it was that one.
“It’s nothing serious,” Another guy spoke up. “We want to set up a few tarps going down the hill and cover them with soap and water so we can slide down.”
Tarps and water going down a hill? Did he mean…
“Like a giant slip n’ slide?” I blurted.
Everyone’s attention focused on me again. I waited for an answer.
“Exactly.” Zack, the blond guy, grinned. My lips curved upward. “You want in?”
“Hell yeah. I saw that in a movie once and have been dying to try it since.”
I hadn’t had many opportunities to do things like that so I had to take advantage of it when I could. Life wouldn’t stop for me, and neither would the many werewolves who wanted my “gift”.
“So what do you say, boss?” the guys looked to Roman, who was looking at me.
Awkward.
“It’s fifty degrees.” Roman pulled his gaze from me, staring daggers at the tatted blond.
“We’ll buy hot chocolate after.” Zack seemed to have been elected spokesman. I wondered why but wasn’t willing to ask.
There was a long moment of silence. I pushed my hair behind my ear just to give my fingers something to do other than fidgeting at my sides.
“Fine.” Roman nodded tersely. His phone rang and he headed out the door with one last look at me, lifting it to his ear much like his sister had done.
I considered following him. Arla had warned me to stay by her brother if I didn’t want a bunch of unmated dudes bothering me, but these guys hadn’t made a move despite my scent.
That was a good sign, right?
Good enough, anyway.
Deciding I could take a little unwanted male attention for the sake of life experiences, I followed Zack and his friends out to the monstrous truck they’d arrived in. My gaze tracked Roman as he sped away from the house in his truck.
The guys introduced themselves to me, but none of their names stuck besides Zack’s. There were too many of them.
We all squished in the truck. After weaving our way through the neighborhood of mansions, we parked on the side of the street at the bottom of a large hill. Mansions dotted the area, but there was a long stretch of grass on either side of the road that would be perfect for our slip n’ slide.
Everyone paired off with one of the massive tarps they’d stacked in the back of the truck, leaving me with Zack.
“So how do you like New York?” he asked as we headed up the hill. I regretted not wearing a coat immediately. Excitement wouldn’t keep me warm, and it definitely wouldn’t keep me from freezing to death.
Oh well. At least there wasn’t snow on the ground yet.
“It’s nice.” I didn’t know him well enough to spill any part of my life’s story. Changing the subject was my best bet. “So where are you from?”
&nbs
p; “Born and raised here. What about you?”
“Georgia.” I said.
“Cool. What do you do for work?” We started unfolding the tarp.
Work was a safe topic. Talking about my hometown could quickly go south.
“I’m a bartender.”
“Nice. I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Cool.”
I had no idea what else to say. Awkward.
I grabbed one side of the tarp and walked backward with it, glad the distance between us was ending the uncomfortable get-to-know-you. I wasn’t willing to talk about much other than surface-level shit, but I wasn’t a fan of that either. Which made communicating fairly challenging.
We lined our tarp up with the one above it and held it in place while two of the other guys came in with duct tape and connected the tarps. Apparently even the rich resorted to duct tape as a fix-all.
Ten minutes and twelve bottles of soap later, there were at least thirty new people gathered at the top of the hill with me and the guys. They all wore swimsuits or wetsuits, and I wished I’d been informed this was happening before we got there so I could’ve brought one too.
But a little thing like lack of a swimsuit wasn’t going to keep me from this once in a lifetime experience. I stripped down to my typical black sports bra and cheeky panties, tossing my clothes in a pile off to the side. I noticed a couple of people staring at my tattoo—or my boobs, it was hard to tell which—and glared at them until they looked away.
“Henley,” Zack grabbed my arm. My elbow slammed into his gut, an automatic reflex for being grabbed by someone I didn’t know and couldn’t see. “Oomph.” He’d changed into a swimsuit like the others, so my elbow had collided with abs of steel.
“Sorry.” My apology wasn’t genuine. Protecting myself was an instinct I refused to feel bad for.
“It’s fine. I like a girl with fire.” His lips lifted in a grin. “Want to go first?”
“You know it.” My own lips lifted too. “So I just run and dive?” I checked as we made our way to the top of the tarp-slide.
“Yup. Whenever you’re ready.”
I took a quick breath in before sprinting toward the slide. My bare feet met the icy grass, heartbeat picking up as loud cheers and whooping echoed in the air. I dove headfirst onto the wet and soapy surface, wild red hair flying behind me. My body collided with the tarp and momentum carried me down the slide so quickly it seemed over before it started.
