1302 The Alpha (The 13th Floor)

by Christine Rains

  Table of Contents

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTINE RAINS

  DEDICATION

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  EPILOGUE

  Welcome to the tenants of the 13th Floor!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  1302 – THE ALPHA

  By Christine Rains

  1302 – THE ALPHA

  By Christine Rains

  Copyright 2013

  Cover design by Christine Rains Copyright 2013

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of our many distributors.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTINE RAINS

  Fearless

  L’il Gal Al and the Zombies of Amarillo

  1301 – The Marquis

  DEDICATION

  For Keith,

  Geeks are sexy

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  An Excerpt from 1303 – The Dragonslayer

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Her nose told her the pack was much closer than she should’ve let them get. Those familiar musky scents were as unique as a bite mark. Stefanie trotted, paws not making a sound on the soft ground of the woods. She might be able to lose them and get to safety, but she could also tumble right into a trap. The pack was herding her, and she’d been stupid enough to let herself get between the members.

  She’d only wanted to stretch her legs. No one should be in the forest in the hours before dawn. The damn banshee had been screaming in the hall of the building, and Stefanie couldn’t sleep. Stefanie hadn’t shifted outside her apartment in months. One run seemed well deserved for not biting the banshee’s head off.

  Movement to her right. A big wolf. Matt? Her nose twitched. No, Colin. Big, dumb, and ugly.

  Three others were out there. She smelled them all. Her disloyal pack. Bastards and bitches every single one. Not one of them had helped when Wyatt defeated her in a vicious challenge for leadership and locked her away. Even her sister had turned her back on her. She swallowed a growl.

  Stefanie could easily take any one of them down, but all of them? She might, but it would be one hell of a fight. It wasn’t worth the risk. She had a life in Carmine she actually liked, and none of these sons of bitches were going to scare her away.

  She hopped over a log, paused, and breathed in again. Her ears pricked as Colin inelegantly drew nearer. Stefanie couldn’t smell their Alpha, but Wyatt was likely somewhere waiting for them to bring her like a virgin to sacrifice. In the twisted realms of nightmares, he tormented her. A hundred screams vied to escape her when she would awake. She refused to let him get his hands on her again.

  She hadn’t attacked any of her pursuers yet no matter her superior strength. Wyatt would love for her to draw first blood, and then he would be the big hero saving his pack from her.

  She growled in Colin’s direction, warning him to keep his distance. He was close enough for her to see his eyes reflect the moonlight.

  Taking off again, she increased her speed. Stefanie didn’t know these woods. The lights of Carmine sparkled to her left, but a water way separated her from the city. She should’ve just stayed home and stuffed a sock down the banshee’s throat.

  She couldn’t keep going in this direction. Time for a swim.

  Stefanie darted left, zigzagging between trees. A small wolf leapt out at her and snapped at her tail. Scott the Omega. Every instinct screamed to snatch him by the throat and throw him to the ground. No Omega ever acted like that toward an Alpha. She’d done it before, several times, but not tonight. If she stopped, the others would attack.

  Her mother always told her to play it smart. Don’t lose her wits when her instincts sang. Giving herself over to her wolf was easy, but staying in control took immense will power.

  Run, water, swim. Focus on the plan.

  The others thundered behind her. Any hint of subtlety was gone. One let loose a howl. Their prey was in sight.

  Stefanie’s heart hammered as she pushed herself even more. The swoosh of the river filled her ears. The pack was getting closer. Seventy or eighty feet behind her, barking with the chase.

  Bursting through a thick copse of trees, she tried to skid to a stop and slid down a steep slope toward the river. Not just a river, but a mass of water swollen and angry from the recent rain. Stefanie coughed out a curse as she managed to keep herself out of the water. Her paws dipped in before she could pull them back.

  Damn, it was cold. A wolf wouldn’t be able to swim across, but she might if she shifted back to human. Above her, another round of howls erupted.

  A soft chuff to her right startled her. Digging her paws in, she twisted and bared her teeth.

  Walking upriver, a male wolf she didn’t know jerked his head to the left. She hadn’t seen him or even smelled him. It shouldn’t matter his fur was black as a thundercloud. Stefanie breathed in deep, but even then, his scent was faint. It wasn’t natural. Every animal had a distinctive odor.

  Still moving, he looked over his shoulder and didn’t stop to wait for her. There was intelligence in his eyes. And a hint of fear.

  Stefanie hurried after him. Maybe he knew a way out she didn’t. Better this one strange wolf than Wyatt and the pack.

  Two wolves jumped through the trees and tumbled down the slick slope. Stefanie and her guide picked up their pace, but she glanced back in time to see Colin fall into the river. It was like a badly drawn cartoon. Lots of yelps and flailing legs.

  Scott kept himself from going into the water, but he hesitated with indecision. He barked at the others.

  A bend took them out of sight. Stefanie drew closer to the other wolf. Even with her nose a foot from his haunches, his scent was remarkably muted. The only things she could tell were that he was a male and not an Alpha. She huffed at the lack of information. Her nose usually told her great stories.

  His dark fur hid him well in the night. Yet even with that camouflage, she should’ve known he was there. His steps were sure. He knew this territory and he was without a pack. Unless they were better at hiding themselves than he was.

  Ahead, the river narrowed. The glint of metal drew her eyes. A big storm drain on the opposite shore.

  The wolf stopped and gestured with a twist of his head. He backed up as far as he could go without slipping and then took a running leap. Clearing the water and landing on the drain with a click of his claws, he hopped to higher ground and turned to wait for her.

  Stefanie backed up as he had. It was a big jump, but she could do it. Her body tensed, ready to spring, when she smelled Scott’s foul scent. She swung to the right and met him head on
.

  Scott pounced and she caught him by the neck, slamming him into the muddy shore. She held him, growling, pushing him closer to the water. His struggles were useless and both knew it. She didn’t doubt he was told to slow her down. The howls from the woods confirmed her suspicions.

  She wasn’t going to play their game. Tossing him into the river, she readied herself again and jumped. She slipped on the drain, banging her chin and letting everyone know exactly where she was. Snarling at herself, Stefanie shook her head and climbed away from the water. From the opposite shore, the pack hollered in snarls and yaps.

  Not waiting to see if they followed, she ran to the line of trees where the other wolf stood. There was a clear path to the city now, but he led her to the edge of the woods. He stayed in the shadows, making no move toward Carmine or to her. Stefanie barked at him and trotted a few steps in the direction of the city. He didn’t follow.

  Growling, Stefanie walked another dozen steps and looked back, pausing for him. When he remained in the same spot, she debated for a second whether or not to go back and drag him with her. He’d helped her. She wasn’t going to leave him to get caught by her pack.

  No, he wasn’t stupid. If he stayed, he knew the risks, and she couldn’t stick around any longer. Repeating that to herself, Stefanie dashed off to Carmine.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sleep didn’t come easy, even knowing she was safe in her apartment. The pack would never find her here, but there was still those nagging what ifs. What if they found her well-hidden trail and tracked her to the building? What if Wyatt tore the city down looking for her? Ending up in his hands again was not an option. She’d rather die than let that happen.

  Morning came too soon and not quick enough. Stefanie dragged herself into the shower after a few hours of rest. She scrubbed off the scent of the woods and replaced it with her fruity body wash. Her stomach rumbled. Shifting always made her hungry. Especially after a hunt, or rather a chase like last night’s.

  Who was the lone werewolf? And why did he help her? Not that she wasn’t grateful, but lone wolves stayed away from packs and definitely far from pack business.

  Curious as she was, there was no point in wondering. Stefanie wasn’t going to go out searching for him. Maybe if Wyatt hadn’t tracked her to Carmine, she might try to find this other wolf, but she needed to keep a low profile. If she was lucky, the pack would think she’d run off again and leave.

  No. She grunted as she turned off the water. She hadn’t run off like a coward. Wyatt had challenged her and won. He was the new Alpha of the Nicolet pack. The loser was usually driven away, but Wyatt wanted her as his mate and wasn’t above forcing her into the position. She might’ve stayed and gracefully accepted her loss, possibly be his mate, but he was a cruel bastard and those loyal to him followed his lead.

  Who was she kidding? Even if he wasn’t such an asshole, Stefanie wouldn’t have gracefully accepted any loss. The Nicolet pack was hers. Her father had been the Alpha, and his father before him. It was rare that a female Alpha came along, but she was born for it.

  Several times she had considered demanding a fight to the death. She wanted her pack, her home, her life back. But there were two major problems with that. One, she couldn’t beat Wyatt on her own. And two, she doubted he’d honor the terms for the fight and keep her alive afterward. Alive in Wyatt’s den was worse than being dead.

  Now she had to keep low and skulk around her own city. Stefanie grabbed a shirt from her dresser. It caught on the head of an improperly fit screw inside and ripped. Growling, she whipped the ruined shirt across the room. Nothing was going her way.

  Stefanie threw on a pair of worn jeans and an Old Navy T-shirt that was a little too stretched across her chest. It was difficult to find a top that fit her properly, especially when she did her shopping at the thrift stores. Her shoulders were too wide, and her breasts were on the large side. She spent most of her meager paycheck on food and paint supplies.

  Thinking of that, she reminded herself she needed to stop by the college supply store and get some more tubes of blue and red paint. Stefanie peered around her apartment. An eclectic collection of old furniture was hemmed in by stacks of paintings. She needed some canvasses too, but the way she was going through them, she’d have to settle for checking out Goodwill and painting over art she found there. It was the cheapest way to get canvas to paint on. Paper didn’t work for her.

  Stefanie stuffed her feet into her sneakers and exited her apartment. Hearing someone stomping down the stairs, she peered down the stairwell to see Marc heading out. He was in a foul mood. Good thing she didn’t run into him. His usual mood wasn’t that cheery, and she was certain he could bite with more ferocity than a wolf.

  The morning chill felt good on her bare arms. Even after last night’s incident, it made her want to run in the woods again. She missed home. More so, she missed the freedom she once had.

  She wasn’t going to obsess over it. Keep quiet, hide her tracks, and the pack would leave soon to look somewhere else. Wyatt was a persistent son of a bitch, but he didn’t have any patience. She could wait them out. There was no choice in the matter if she didn’t want to keep running.

  Another fifteen minutes brought her to the store, and Stefanie let the delight of browsing art supplies and books momentarily take her troubles away. She didn’t have to be into work at the butcher shop until eleven. That gave her an hour or so to lose herself to the feeling of soft new brushes and the hundreds of colors begging her to memorize every name.

  Close to an hour went by and she found herself on the second floor running her fingers along the spines of used books. Subjects she’d never read like calculus and others she’d love to read like history and mythology.

  “Need help finding anything?”

  Stefanie shook her head before he even finished speaking. “No, thanks.”

  She froze, the voice finally registering. It wasn’t one she’d ever heard before, but somehow it seemed familiar. She turned slowly as if rotating on a pedestal.

  The young man who had asked the question wasn’t an employee. No tacky vest over a shirt with the collar up. He stood about three inches taller than her five foot seven and had a lean skateboarder’s body. Sneakers and jeans and a fitted argyle sweater. Black rimmed glasses and dark brown hair that was styled to look mussed.

  Pretty damn good-looking if you were into that whole hipster thing. Argyle. Really?

  In one hand, with his index finger holding his place, he held a comic book. Some boys just never grew up.

  “Are you sure?” His smile was teasing, but it twitched. His muscles were tense, not matching his relaxed stance.

  Hearing his voice again, Stefanie cocked her head to the side and breathed in deeply. A hint of incense, Old Spice deodorant, fresh mint as if he’d just popped one into his mouth before speaking to her, and under it, the scent of male. More of a male than he looked with that sweater.

  A second breath and she caught it. The woods.

  But she couldn’t smell wolf.

  That wasn’t right. Her instincts were never wrong. Stefanie stepped closer, nose near his neck. He started to move back, but she snatched his shirt. “Don’t move.”

  “Um, okay.” He stood still as she sniffed him and then cleared his throat. “May I ask your name before you decide to get any friendlier?”

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing, but it was the wolf that had helped her. She tugged him farther back into the stacks where an overhead light had fizzled out. Only then did she let him go.

  “How are you doing it?”

  “What?” He blinked and then tried another smile on her. “You mean how did I just get a gorgeous woman to pull me into a dark corner to be alone?”

  “I don’t play games, wolf.” Stefanie put her hands on her hips. Bigger wolves had cowered before her. Argyle would answer her questions whether he wanted to or not. If she could learn his trick, the pack would never find her. “Why can’t I get your scent? Even last night,
it was barely there.”

  He wet his lips and adjusted his glasses. Looking down, he fingered the corner of his book for about ten seconds before lifting his head again. “You’re much more forward than I’d have thought. I figured we’d talk a bit, maybe introduce ourselves, have a cup of coffee before we jumped into this.”

  “We know who we are, and coffee only makes me aggressive. Tell me how you’re doing it.”

  “Aggressive?” He raised his brows and almost grinned, but she scowled at him and chased it away. “I’m James, by the way. And you, with the sharp nose, may I ask your name?”

  “No.” Stefanie snapped. “So, Jimmy, are you going to tell me or do I have to force you into submission?”

  “It’s James.” The humor fled from his face, and she thought he looked disappointed. “You don’t have to do anything other than talk to me. The wolf who bit me taught me how to hide my scent. Didn’t your sire teach you?”

  A hundred questions raced through her mind. She might be a rare female Alpha, but someone surviving a werewolf’s bite and becoming one was even rarer. He wasn’t lying, and he was being way too upfront about it with a stranger. Obviously James wasn’t taught that lone wolves were usually killed by packs. Not that she was part of a pack any longer.

  “Sire? You’re reading too many comic books. And most wolves are born not made.” Stefanie sighed, not up to schooling him like a pup. He was in his early twenties, about her age. “Look, you know my situation. I need to hide. How are you hiding your scent?”

  “Hey, this is a graphic novel.” James lifted the book and wiggled it a bit. He took a deep breath and tried another cute smile on her. This one produced a dimple. “I think we can learn a lot from one another. Why don’t we go somewhere and sit down, have a chat? I’d really like to talk to another wolf. I’ve only ever met my si— the one who bit me.”

  It was tempting, and not only because she needed to learn how to hide her scent. Stefanie felt herself sway toward him involuntarily, as if drawn by a magnet. She’d been without a pack for so long, she craved the company of a lone wolf. She sensed his loneliness too. Lose the Argyle, he’d be pretty hot. Damn hot.