by Michelle Fox
Jay sniffed. “Ain’t got no pack. Axel is my pack.”
“You a stray?”
He shrugged.
“Maybe out of your territory without permission?” When he didn’t answer, Talon pressed the beer bottle against Jay’s lips. “Just a sip, Jay. One little sip to prove it’s not drugged.”
Jay jerked his head back and opened his mouth wide, preparing to call out a warning. Talon was faster though, and he slammed the man into the tree, snapping his skull into the trunk. Jay’s whole body went slack and when Talon let him go, the man slid to the ground followed by a shower of tiny little bones from the upper branches of the tree.
Gretchen ducked and covered her head with her hands. I hunt. I eat meat. My other half is a fucking primal animal, this should not gross me out. But it did. She shook her head, dislodging the bones that had landed in her hair. A few got stuck and she had to untangle them. One was a vertebrae way too small to be shifter and another was a thin, curved rib bone. Dozens of similar bones littered the ground at her feet.
Frowning, she held one bone in each hand and studied them “What the hell was this?”
Talon took the bones and connected them. “Looks like snake to me.”
She made a fist and her eyes widened when she realized her hand had more than enough room to pass through the rib. “A really big one.”
Talon shrugged and tossed the bones away. “Yeah. The more pressing concern is that half the shifters here tonight are drugged out of their mind and placing bets I doubt they’ll remember tomorrow.” He turned back toward the ring and crossed his arms.
Gretchen stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Talon and crossed her arms as well, doing her best to be strong. The dog and the rooster were going at it in the ring and the crowd was fixated on the action, cheering and jeering at every snarl or cackling crow. The bookie took bets from a never-ending line of shifters who staggered more than they walked, their movements large and clumsy and often requiring support to keep them from face planting. “How do the roofies fit in? I thought we couldn’t get high.”
“We can’t. Not really, but roofies can make shifters extra drunk and easy to manipulate. I just broke up a drug ring, too, so I know they’ve been able to get their hands on large quantities. I thought they were selling to humans, but this is probably what they were up to all along.” He nodded over to where several men had gathered around the bookie. “Look, see how two of them are wrangling the tall guy with long blond hair?”
“Yeah, I see it.”
“I know him.” As Talon spoke, two shifters flanked the blond and herded him back toward the bookie when he made to turn away. “His name is Falcon and he’s the second in the Moon River pack. He’s sharper than a knife and moves like a ninja on fast forward, but not tonight.”
As they watched, Falcon dropped to his knees without warning, too fast for his handlers to catch him. The two shifters helped him back up and guided him even closer to the bookie.
“How can he place a bet if he can’t walk?” Gretchen asked.
“Exactly. He can’t and my guess is that’s what Axel is counting on. Looks to me like he’s been targeting pack members and drugging them into bets they can’t win.”
“You think that’s what happened to my dad?” She frowned at Talon.
He gave a curt nod. “Probably.”
“And now they’ve got my alpha, too?”
“Looks like it.”
“So now what? How do we stop this? What do we do?” She waved at all the shifters. “There are way more of them than us.”
“Yeah, but most of them can barely walk. They’ll scatter once I break up the fight. The real problem is, we need the bookie’s notebook so we have a record of exactly how many shifters Axel has scammed. But once they realize I’m around, Axel will run and the bookie will be hustled out of here faster than a hungry shifter can down a bucket of chicken wings.”
“And if you go for the bookie first, that means Axel gets away doesn’t it?”
“Yep.”
Gretchen sighed and rubbed her neck. She’d never expected to be in a situation like this, but she knew she’d better figure it out fast. This was her one shot at dealing with Axel and getting back to her life. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’ll go for the bookie. You take Axel.”
Talon smiled at her. “I was hoping you would say that.”
“You do realize I am a cook not a deputy, right? I might screw up. He might still get away.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, however, I think we can improve the odds a bit.” He stepped in front of her, hands going for her throat.
“W-what are you doing?” She clutched at his hands, but that didn’t deter him. Her wolf was, of course, thrilled at the contact and pranced through her head with glee.
His fingertips grazed her skin as he slipped them under the top of her t-shirt. “Hang on. This will take just a second.” He pulled and the fabric split, revealing her bra.
“Stop it. What are you doing?” She tried to swat his hands away, but Talon was undeterred. Her wolf growled at her, displeased. Shove it, furball.
“I like the lace. Pretty,” Talon said, his eyes fixed on her chest.
She glared at him. “You’ve got two seconds to make this right or I’m going to kick your ass.”
His eyes flickered up to meet hers. “Kicking ass is your default setting, isn’t it? You’re kind of violent for a cook.” When she curled her fingers into a fist, he said, “Okay. Easy, Halbmond. Listen, that bookie isn’t exactly prime alpha material, you know. A woman like you probably hasn’t looked at him twice since…ever. So let’s give him something pretty to look at, something guaranteed to shut down the logic centers of his little shifter pea brain.”
“Won’t he know it’s a trap then?” She reached for what was left of her shirt, attempting to make it cover her chest again.
“Nah. Every shifter male thinks he’s an alpha. No one believes they’re beta. You’re just confirming what he’s known all along.” He reclaimed the tattered pieces of her shirt and folded them in, tucking them under her bra strap. “That should hold them in place.” He spun her around. “Now let’s just make the whole thing tighter.” Talon gathered the t-shirt at her back and she felt the circular movements and tugs that indicated he was tying a knot.
She picked at the fabric of her shirt, disturbed at how it now molded to her every curve and revealed all of her cleavage. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“There’s nothing like a pretty woman to muddle a man’s mind.” He whirled her around to face him and before she could protest or even understand what he was about to do, his lips nuzzled her neck and nipped at her flesh. A shiver worked its way up Gretchen’s spine and around to pucker her nipples. She should stop him, but a primal response she’d never experienced before overruled her mind. Her wolf danced in her mind’s eye, thrilled to be touched by Talon. Her inner wolf didn’t care about principles or what she should do, all she wanted was more of Talon. He smelled like heaven and his touch was hotter than hell. Something dark, deep and hungry inside her refused to let her turn Talon away.
With a sigh, she melted into him. For a second, the world fell away. All that mattered was the feel of Talon against her, his hands sliding up under her shirt to graze the underside of her breasts. She arched her back, mutely begging for him to touch their sensitive tips, but instead of satisfying her request, he broke contact and stepped away.
She swayed without his support and had to widen her stance to keep herself upright. Coming back down to earth, she glowered at Talon. “What the fuck was that about?”
He smiled. “Other than the fact that I enjoyed it very much, you’re angry and turned on. That’s an irresistible combination for any shifter. You won’t have any problems getting that ledger now. Also, note that I did not kiss you, so our deal still stands.” Talon beckoned her to step out from under the tree. “Now, go. I’ll wait until you’ve reached the bookie to make my move on Axel. Once t
hings start moving, they’ll go fast and we have to be even faster.” He gave her a little shove and its momentum carried Gretchen into the crowd.
Chapter Eleven
~Gretchen~
Her stomach fluttering with a combination of nerves, anger, and arousal, Gretchen wove her way in, out and around the shifters watching the action in the ring. They were so preoccupied with the fight that they only noticed her after she’d passed by, at which point, they reached for her ass. Slapping their hands away and growling at them in warning, she picked up her pace before things deteriorated. Talon had gotten her all revved up and put her under the noses of shifters frothing at the mouth with surging testosterone levels. The fighting kicked up their instincts, brought their beasts to the fore and she smelled like sex and looked like she was available. It was an explosive combination even if half the shifters were ‘roofied’ out of their minds.
Finally, she managed to elbow, slap and stomp her way to the bookie, a pudgy, middle-aged man with a stringy comb-over and thick glasses. He pored over his ledger, a preoccupied furrow running across his brow.
“Hello, sexy” she purred, leaning down until the man had a clear view of her heaving bosom.
He looked up, his eyes widening until they were more white than pupil. “H-h-hello,” he stammered.
“I’d like to place a bet.” She reached for the ledger and snatched it out of his hands. Running a finger down the columns and feigning deep interest, she said, “How does this work?”
The bookie opened his mouth to answer, but gunshots rang in the air before he could speak. At the pop of bullets, the crowd ducked almost as one and then scattered, slowly at first but with increasing speed as more bullets were fired. The bookie was the first to cut and run and Gretchen almost laughed at the way he scurried off, his gait very similar to that of a rat. Within seconds everyone, save for a few stragglers and Axel, was gone.
Talon approached the fighting ring, holding his gun up in the air. “It’s time to break up the party, folks. And if you don’t think you have to listen to me, let me tell you that yes, you do. I’m the sheriff for those of you who don’t know and you’re all breaking the law.” He leveled his gun at Axel. “As for you, you’re not going anywhere. I suggest you freeze where you are unless you want me to fill you with lead.”
Gretchen held the bookie’s ledger against her chest and walked over to Talon, keenly aware she was the only woman in the area. Sometimes shifters channeled anger into sexual aggression and unmated females could find themselves at the center of some very unwanted attention. Hell, even mated females could have problems if things got bad enough. Without the fighting to distract them, she worried the remaining shifters might turn on her.
Talon discharged his gun again and then barked, “You’ve got thirty seconds to clear out before I start shooting at you.” To drive his point home, he aimed at a lingering shifter’s feet and fired off several bullets in quick succession. Dust rose up from the ground as the bullets thudded into the dirt. The shifter ran off with an angry yowl.
“Get moving people. Go home.” Talon waved at them with his gun and the shock at his appearance dissolved into movement.
Some shuffled off, casting dark looks at Talon, others hustled, their heads ducked down as if they didn’t want to be seen. A few darted off in pairs, dragging their companions after them.
Gretchen caught sight of her alpha playing tug-of-war with another shifter, straining to get away, while his opponent worked just as hard to keep a grip on him. Finally, just before Gretchen was about to run over to help, Cal managed to break free, clubbing the other shifter over the head with his free hand, hitting him hard enough that the guy let him go. Then, spotting Talon, he ran right for him.
“Sheriff, you gotta help me.” His breathing was ragged and his eyes wild.
Gretchen set a gentle hand on her alpha’s shoulder. “You okay, alpha?”
His gaze settled on Gretchen, and if possible, his eyes widened even more. “What are you doing here?” Then, to Talon he said, “We’ve got to get out of here. This is a bad scene.”
Talon laid a hand on Cal’s other shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control. Just stick with Gretchen and keep an eye on her, will you?”
Cal nodded and grabbed Gretchen’s arm a little too tightly. “Hey,” she said. “Easy.”
“Sorry.” Her alpha loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “Why are you here?”
“Axel is the guy who beat up Dad.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, oh shit,” she said her, voice grim. “In fact, Sheriff Garde’s been waiting on a call from you to confirm what I’ve told him about Dad. Where have you been and how did you end up here? Didn’t Chief Mueller give you the paperwork or whatever?”
Cal clapped a hand to his brow and tried to smooth out the furrow there. “I-I don’t know. I was at the Moon Tap and I ran into some cat shifters who said they were passing through from out-of-town. They bought me a beer, and next thing I know, I’m here and Talon is shooting at shifters. It all gets a little fuzzy in-between.”
Gretchen gave her alpha a sharp look. “You don’t remember coming here?”
Cal shook his head again. “No. Nothing. It’s all a weird blur.”
“Do you remember anything? Did the beer taste funny? Were you drunk?” If he’d overindulged, Gretchen figured her alpha would’ve made a juicy target for Axel’s scam even without being drugged.
“You know the Moon Tap has a strict two drink limit,” Cal said, sounding slightly insulted. “I never got a second one. That one beer was the last thing I remember.”
“They must’ve slipped you a roofie, then. Talon says the beer here was drugged, and based on what I’ve seen tonight, that’s probably how they got my dad.” The thought of such organized depravity made her shake her head. Gambling was one thing and something she could understand, kind of, but drugging shifters took it all to a whole new, inexcusable low.
“Are you saying I was drugged?” Cal looked at Gretchen a little wild eyed.
She nodded. “I think so. Your eyes are sort of bloodshot.”
“No. I feel fine. I think.” He blinked and rubbed at one eye with a finger. “Oh hell, I can’t tell.”
“Axel has been targeting pack shifters and pushing them into bets they can’t win.” She waved the ledger at him. “It’s all in here.”
Her alpha took the ledger and scanned it. “My god, every pack in the tri-state area is in here. Oh sheesh, I made a bet for twenty grand. I don’t remember that, but there’s my name and my signature.” He showed her the entry in the book. “I should call the other packs and alert the Pack Council.”
Talon interrupted their conversation by squeezing off more shots at the few remaining shifters. “Go on, get out of here. I won’t miss next time.” Anyone who had thought about sticking around, reconsidered and quickly melted into the shadows. Within seconds it was just them and the animals still in the ring, so distracted by all the activity around them, they’d forgotten to fight. The man Talon had identified as Axel slouched against one of the fighting ring’s wooden posts, smoking a cigarette as if he had not a care in the world.
He blew out a stream of smoke. “Are you quite finished sheriff?”
“Nope, just getting started.” Talon reloaded his gun, the ominous snick of bullets finding their home filling the air. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Axel Sharpe. You said you would do better.”
“I have. You should have seen the fight last week. This was fight club preschool compared to that shit.” Axel took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked it into the dirt. The rooster, more curious than smart, waddled over to investigate, making a garbled crowing sound when it stepped on the hot ashes. The pit bull took advantage of the rooster’s inattention to sneak up behind him, crawling on his belly, but before he could pounce, Axel whipped around and kicked the dog in the face.
The dog fell back with a yelp and cowered low to the ground, his one good eye locked on Axe
l, waiting for the next blow. “No fighting unless there’s money in it. Now go to your bed, you worthless piece of shit.” Axel thrust a finger in the direction of a rundown shed and the dog took off without hesitation. The rooster, catching the movement, ran after him, crowing and flapping his wings.
“The fuckers sleep together. Can you believe it?” Axel shook his head and pulled out another cigarette.
“Common enemies make for strong friendships,” said Talon. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Seems like you had a lot of pack people here.”
Axel shrugged as he lit his cigarette. “Everyone likes to gamble. Pack or stray, it don’t matter. They all want to see blood spilled, to taste it in the air.” He thrust his tongue out of his mouth and wiggled it around in a grotesque manner, his eyes locking on Gretchen as he did so. “She’s cute. Where’d you get her? She one of the whores down by you?”
Gretchen inhaled, the air hissing past her teeth. Her alpha’s grip on her arm tightened a fraction.
“Easy,” Cal whispered.
“Keep it up, Axel, and those will be the last words you ever say.” Talon released the safety on his gun.
Axel held up his hands. “My bad. I didn’t know Sheriff Garde here,” he pointed to the sheriff with his cigarette, “could get it for free. You got nice tits, sweetheart.”
“Is that supposed to be an apology?” Gretchen snarled.
Axel shrugged, unimpressed with her anger. “It’s a compliment, darlin’. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to smile pretty and say thank you?” He shook his head. “I swear, the moon save me from chicks with low self-esteem.”
“Let’s stay on topic,” Talon growled. “Some of your gamblers didn’t look like they wanted to be here tonight. And the beer didn’t seem right.”
Axel exhaled, the smoke wafting up toward the stars. “I wouldn’t know nothing about that.”
“Oh no? Do you know Mitch? Your drug supplier? I caught him with pockets full of roofies. I bet he’d like to tell me a few things about you, especially when it might reduce his time in the labor camps.”
