“Well, they tend to be fairly common in my pack. From what I’ve been told, it’s a bit of a toss up whether you have something or not. And usually only the alphas in a pack will have anything like it. Alpha powers can range from anything like enhanced scent or hearing, to sharpened intellect and planning abilities, or other enhancements that have something to do with evolutionary viability…” He gives me a wry smile. “And so forth and so on, blah blah blah.”
“No, interesting.” So they really do exist.
“But yeah, I guess I got lucky, but my alpha power seems to be my strength,” he says with a shrug.
“So, it’s not the working out? You’re just preternaturally strong?” I ask.
“Yeah. The working out is more for technique and practice. And it clears my head, helps me focus and keep my eye on the prize,” he says, eyeing me sensually.
“Well, I can’t complain about the look it gives you.” I certainly wouldn’t mind a little Hawes for breakfast, if I do say so myself.
“So, yeah, that’s more or less it. I guess it’s no gigantic secret, but it’s something that at least, in my family, we’ve all played it pretty close to the chest,” he says.
“Makes sense. Not the kind of ace in the hole you want everyone to know about. I can imagine people would want to try to exploit that.”
“Yeah. There’s only one person I want exploiting me for any reason,” he says, smirking at me.
His smile turns me on inside, reawakening the strong urge to continue what we started last night. There’s a twinge of sadness in his gaze, though, and he seems to be lost in thought about something.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.
“This whole thing, this whole mission. I know you and Josh have your convictions. And I keep trying to be okay with it, because I know it’s what you want. I get the whole, ‘save the world’ deal. But I just can’t accept the fact that you’re willing to go into that kind of danger.” There’s a pause, but then he continues. “The whole point of me going back in there on their terms was to keep you out of danger.”
“Well, things changed when we found out one of our main targets was involved,” I say.
“I get that. But I have a hard time wanting to be with someone who knowingly goes into that type of situation. Who is willing to put themselves in danger like that.”
Ouch. I knew he was having a hard time with this, but just last night he was holding me in his arms and telling me what I should want in a man. “So what do you expect me to do?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Hawes says, running his hand through his hair. “Not go?”
“I don’t have that option, Hawes. You know that,” I tell him.
“Then go,” Hawes says, waving me off and looking away from me. “Go and do your job. Go and risk your life, but don’t expect me to be okay with it.”
Part of me knows that Hawes is just angry and stressed, but the force of what he says hits me like a brick. “You don’t want to be with me if it means letting me do my job?”
“I don’t know. I mean, no, I obviously want to be with you, but the thought of losing you before I’ve even had the chance to have you drives me crazy,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t think straight. How will I fight?”
I can see what I have to do, even though the thought of it makes me sad. But I can’t send him into the fight like this. And I guess we both realized this wasn’t a forever thing, even if my heart aches as I acknowledge that. He said he doesn’t want to be with someone who puts themselves in danger. Well, only one thing I can do about that…
“Hawes,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t change the time we’ve spent for anything. But I’ll make this easier on both of us. Let’s end this now.”
Hawes turns and looks at me, shock on his face.
“The fact of the matter is, this isn’t my first mission, and it won’t be my last. And if you can’t handle that, it’s better that I let you go now.” I sigh. “Before you end up hurt because of me.”
Hawes frowns, but doesn’t speak. The air is no longer sensual and inviting, it’s cold and callous.
I pat Hawes on the shoulder, mostly because I just don’t know what else to do in the situation. One could say this is my first real breakup, but I have no prior relationships to go off for comparison. “I’m sorry, Hawes.”
“I know,” Hawes says with a shrug. “I am too. I’m sorry for what I said, if it makes any difference.” His voice is dull and lifeless.
“Thank you,” I say, wishing I could take it back, but knowing I can’t. Had we met under different circumstances, at a different time, maybe things would have been different. But right now, I need to keep my head clear so I can focus on what’s going to happen tonight. I don’t want Hawes to be put in danger for nothing, and if I’m only worried about keeping myself safe I can’t help Josh with the case in the way he needs. Vincent Legrand is a killer that has to be brought to justice, and tonight is the first real shot we have to get him.
And we’re the only ones that can do it. Humans are no match for guys like him.
I remove my hand from Hawes’ shoulder and turn and head toward the door. “I guess I’ll see you tonight then, Hawes.”
“What if I don’t want to go anymore?” Hawes says bitterly. “What if there’s no point if I can’t do it to keep you safe?”
“You have to. We need you. I need you,” I say.
“A final request, eh?” Hawes replies.
“More or less, yeah, but no need to be dramatic. Everything should go according to plan, if you play your part.”
“Yeah, playing my part. I’ve gotten real good at doing that in my lifetime,” he scoffs bitterly.
“Well, just one more time. Then you can go back to living the way you want to,” I say, trying to soften the blow.
He shrugs. “Right, do whatever you need and then let you go. I get it. Nothing new.”
Hawes goes back to practicing on the dummy, with increased intensity now. The conversation is over, and sadness starts to sink in as I climb the stairs to the living room where I know Josh is waiting. There’s still a lot to do before tonight, so we need to get to the office as soon as possible. Tonight will be make or break for us as a team.
I reach the living room and see Josh standing, bags packed and ready to go.
“You all ready?” Josh asks.
“Yeah, we’re done here,” I reply.
“Good, let’s get out of here,” Josh says, eyeing the mansion one last time before picking up the bags and heading to the door.
I follow him out the door into his car, the black Dodge Charger that says everything there is to say about this job. All business and no pleasure. I look longingly at the red Ferrari parked next to us, and think of what could have been.
Chapter 10
Rose
The afternoon goes by quickly, a flurry of calls, meetings, and planning. Everything seems so simple, so laid out, or at least Josh is convinced of that.
Our sources have told us that Legrand will be there, attending the fight with several business contacts of his in the mob. We’re to go to the fight, find him, capture him and bring him back. The distraction offered by the fight and the anonymity offered by the crowd should give us ample opening to capture him once he’s located.
Hawes should be fine. We’ve been told that the fighter is just another underground lowlife making the rounds. I look at the clock above my desk and realize it’s already evening. Josh stops by my desk and waits for me to get my things and join him in walking outside.
He plans for us to meet up with Hawes at a parking garage a couple of blocks away from the venue. The location for the fight is different than the one from before, much larger and with more exits, making our job more difficult.
We arrive at the meet up location on time, preceded by a few fellow Tribunal agents who are there waiting. I wait in the car while Josh gets out to join the others, discussing final details with them. I sit and wait for
the red Ferrari, hoping Hawes hasn’t changed his mind.
Fifteen minutes or so passes as we wait, and then the beautiful vehicle pulls up in a spot nearby. Hawthorne gets out, dressed similarly to the night I first saw him. A cut-off hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. He’s holding a duffel bag, presumably with his gear inside of it.
It hurts inside to see him again, so soon after our fight. I want to go back and take back some of the things I said, but I can’t. The memory of the things Hawes said to me are still fresh in my mind.
I exit the car to join Josh and the others where they are huddled, drinking coffee and discussing some subject I don’t care about, likely sports.
Hawes sees us and walks up, his demeanor apathetic, if not relaxed.
“What’s up?” he says, waving his hand casually.
“Are you ready?” Josh asks.
“If you mean, am I ready to kick some poor guy in the face while you go save the world, yes I am.”
I want to laugh at his joke, but the air is too serious, too focused, around me.
“Try to prolong the fight,” Josh says. “It will buy us time to find Legrand in the audience. If you win too fast, he might leave.”
“Yeah, we’ll see what happens,” Hawes replies.
I can’t blame him for acting this way. He doesn’t owe us anything, and we’re expecting him to literally put his life on the line for our own purposes. Granted, those purposes involve protecting shifters, but it’s still not Hawes’ fight anymore.
“Just don’t mess this up for us,” Josh says sternly.
“I know, I know,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Seriously, Hawes—”
Hawes holds up a hand, face going cold. “Look, I get it, at the same time, do you know what you’re asking? I owe you nothing, and no one is going to hold me accountable if I want to walk away and not be a meat bag for your purposes. So maybe, if you want me to continue doing a favor for you, you should change your tone a little and get the fuck off my back.”
Josh steps back, looking a little surprised at the outburst, but then nods.
I want to say something, but Hawes has made his point very clear. He’s an alpha male with a Ferrari, a million miles away from the world people like Josh and I inhabit on a day to day basis. We’ve invaded his life and put expectations on him that aren’t fair.
At the same time, I can’t help but feel that half of his frustration is directed at me. At the way I disappointed him. But we probably weren’t meant for anything long term anyway. We’re from different worlds, as hot as he is, and just because we can spend a couple of hot days together, doesn’t mean we’re meant to mate.
Even if there were moments where it felt like nothing else mattered, when I was in his arms.
Hawes turns on his heel and heads toward the stairs leading down to the neighboring building where the fight will be. I sigh and bring my mind back to reality. The mission, that’s what’s important…
We’ll be following in five minutes, going in as spectators. Each of us is dressed a little differently. I’m in an outfit akin to what I wore the night I met Hawes, baggy and nondescript, my hair tied back and only light makeup on my face.
Josh is in a mussed-looking business outfit, collar open, tie loosened, like he’s just come from the office after a hard day. The other two look like average guys, wearing nondescript tee shirts with gross slogans and holey jeans.
A few minutes go by, and Josh signals for us to head down as well. We leave at odd intervals, the other two heading off first, leaving Josh and I alone in the lot.
“Be careful in there, okay?” Josh tells me. “I’ll be in soon.”
“I will,” I reply.
“If anything happens, you get out of there, promise?” Josh says seriously.
“It’ll be fine. Everything is in place,” I say, trying to reassure myself.
“Okay, your turn,” Josh says.
I leave Josh in the parking lot, knowing he’ll only be a minute or two behind me, but feeling oddly vulnerable and alone as I walk toward the entrance to the building. I remind myself that I’m a shifter, and any human who gets the wrong idea would have a lot more on his hands than he bargained for. But the reminder that shifters like Legrand are out there is in the back of my mind, making my hair stand on end, and making me check behind myself every so often.
I walk over to the front door and pay the doorman, who looks suspiciously at me but asks no questions, and go inside.
The arena is huge, with bleachers rising on all sides. In the center is a large ring, encased by a cage that is just a metal fence rising high on all sides. The ring feels much smaller than it is, dwarfed on all sides by swarms of cheering and shouting fans that fill the seating to capacity.
I’m frankly surprised that such a large event could be held in such a deserted place. But I guess this kind of excitement can’t be found elsewhere, especially behind a TV screen, or somewhere where there are actual rules keeping people safe.
It seems like we’re between matches, and nobody is in the ring currently. I walk in and find a seat near the front of one of the stands, and begin scanning for Legrand. He’s in here somewhere.
I see Josh. He gives a slight nod as he passes me, beer in hand, walking half-drunkenly to find a chair not far from mine.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look like that, and I’m quite sure it’ll be the last, so I take a mental picture of what a drunken, disheveled Josh looks like so I can refer back to it on days where he’s bugging me.
The announcer enters the ring, holding a microphone in his hand. He waves to the audience, which quiets at his gesture.
He announces Hawes, who I see approach the ring, looking unbearably handsome in his hand wraps and loose, low-riding shorts. The announcer then calls the next fighter, which he gives no name for, but simply calls him, “The Chainsaw”.
The Chainsaw is wearing a fancy silk robe with a hood over his head as he approaches the ring. From what I can see, his build is quite similar to Hawes, a little taller and a little more buff, but with paler skin, from what I can see out of the robe.
He enters the ring and pulls off his robe, revealing short dark hair and dark facial hair. His demeanor is cold, calculated.
It’s Legrand.
One of the most dangerous shifters in the world is in the ring. With my Hawes.
Suddenly the mission doesn’t feel so important after all.
* * *
* * *
To be continued in Alpha Rogue 3. Turn the page for the next volume!
Alpha Rogue 3
Copyright © 2015 by Terry Bolryder
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers
Chapter 1
Hawes
The fight is the last place I want to be right now. I don’t want to be a part of this plan. I can’t bear to have Rose around, a reminder of the time we’ve had together. Of all the time I would have liked to spend with her.
Sure, it’s been forty-eight hours since we met. Before that I was drowning in my own self-medicated pity and my only desire was to fight and wait eagerly for the next one. But things have changed in me. I feel alive again. Or at least I did. Now I want to just go home and start to try to forget.
I can see Rose, still standing there in the gym back at the mansion, simultaneously doing the right thing and breaking my heart. The second time it’s been broken now, I guess.
How is it I can both respect and hate the decision she made? How can I both want to be beside her and be as far away from her as possible?
Josh didn’t help, either.
That’s why it’s one more fight. One last favor for Rose. And I guess a favor for shifter-kind as well.
But matters of the heart rarely weigh such broad-reaching needs and concepts in the balance of decision.
So here I am, standing in the middle of the ring. Probably my last fight. I’ll move onto something else after this. At least the venue is grand enough to make things go off with a bang. The air is still musty, rotten almost, but the space is much larger. There must be quadruple the spectators here. Their cheers fall on deaf ears though. I never did this for the applause, and I’m not in the mood to change that.
The announcer has called the contestant. For the first time, I think I pity the person I’m about to fight. Maybe it’s because I see him as I see myself in this situation- a pawn. We’re both here to serve someone else’s purposes. Him to serve the mob’s, me to serve the Tribunal’s. Sorry pal, but you’ll have to take one for the team. I am too, it just happens to be your lot that you’ll be the one taking a beating, not me. I’ll send you flowers or something when this is over.
My new contestant is different from the usual fare. He’s not tattoo-ridden, doesn’t look like a pirate, and now that he’s removed his robe, I can see he isn’t covered with scars or missing any teeth. I guess the mob wanted me to square off with someone who takes their personal appearance seriously.
I take a closer look though. Mean looking guy, maybe the meanest I’ve ever seen. Short, closely shaven beard. Dark hair.
Where have I seen that face before?
I look around in the crowd, searching for someone short and wearing a hoodie, and find her. In the front row, watching us, is Rose. My Rose. And yet, not my Rose.
Only Rose looks shocked and alarmed about something. What is it Rose? Can’t bear to see me shirtless like this again?
Whatever it is though, she’s serious. I see her shouting and covering one ear with her finger, probably speaking into an earpiece.
I take another look at my opponent. Whatever it is, Rose keeps looking at me, then back to him.
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