by Unknown
She could tolerate a few more smelly shifts at The Deviation, if that’s what it took. Other than the stench, it was decent. Not too many slobbering drunks. Plus she was twenty-one now, so she could serve, which meant better tips. She needed to keep this stinky job so eventually she could get a real one. One that paid well enough to get her mom out of that rat-hole apartment on Jackson Street and into something better. Somewhere Mia wouldn’t have to worry about the crackheads shooting up the place and where the gangs hadn’t ousted the police as the major power players in the neighborhood.
There were shifters in the crack gangs of Seattle, she knew that. Everyone did, though no one talked about it. And if anyone knew she was a shifter… well, that was all that would be left for her, too. Which was why she worked her tail off in community college and transferred to the University of Washington as a junior, as soon as she could wrangle a scholarship. But even the crappy dorm food cost money, so she had to keep her job at The Deviation if she wanted to graduate and get her mom out of the hellhole that was 12th and Jackson.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Her stomach settled a little. Mia leaned back against the cool brick of the alley. The moon was nearly full, which didn’t mean jack for her as a shifter. Werewolves that went all wolfy with full moon were just fairy tales. She could shift whenever she wanted to—which was primarily never—and occasionally even when she didn’t. But that hadn’t happened for years, not since Bobby Johnson scared the shit out of her with one of his stupid Halloween pranks. It was a good thing she had been dressed as a ghost that year—she had only been ten, and the yellowed sheet had reached all the way to the ground. Covered her up pretty good, and Bobby never figured it out.
Didn’t stop her from using some very wolfy-sharp claws to trash his mailbox the next night, though. Just on principle.
She closed her eyes and focused on calming the last heaves of her stomach. The music beat through the brick wall behind her, buzzing the back of her head. Just as she was thinking it might be safe to head back inside, the door next to her creaked open, letting out a throb of music that covered the footsteps of whoever was coming out. She popped open her eyes, blinking a couple of times to clear them, just in case it was patrons wanting to sneak a quick make out session in the alley.
By the time she pushed away from the wall, she realized it wasn’t a couple looking for privacy. It was three guys… and they were big.
The moonlight glinted off their black silk shirts. Mischief danced in their eyes. They stepped toward her, casually, as if they were about to ask her the time. One in the lead, two behind, probably mid-twenties. The lead one was pretty, the way boys sometimes are, without being the least bit feminine. In fact, there was entirely too much muscle beneath his tailored shirt. The other two were more conventionally handsome, but just as hulking, with beefy frames that spoke of hours in the gym or possibly some kind of professional sports. Their scent reminded her of cut steel, like they were fashioned from coldness and evil.
She could turn and run, but as soon as that thought blossomed in her head, two of the thugs fanned out, filling the alley with their smooth-moving presence. She wasn’t quite surrounded, but she wouldn’t escape either. Not without shifting, which she really, really didn’t want to do. These guys were dot-commers. She could tell by the glint of their custom-made shoes and the close tailoring of their collared shirts. She was strong—being a shifter was good for that, at least—but even so, there were three of them. She would have to shift to have a chance. And if she did, they would talk. The police would listen. She’d be outed for sure.
The door slowly swung closed, muting the music to a dull thud.
Shit.
“It’s pretty crowded in there.” Mia hooked a thumb toward the door, pretty freaking impressed with herself at the steadiness of her voice. “I’m sure someone will be along any minute, looking for fresh air, just like you boys.”
The lead one smirked then tipped his head to his evil partner in crime. He slunk back toward the door. Could he lock it from the outside?
Dammit.
“Come on, now,” Mia said, her voice way steadier than her ramping up heart would believe. “There are a ton of girls in there, much hotter than I am, who would love to go home with you three.”
“Who said anything about taking you home?” The lead one leered like this was a game, and only he knew the rules. “Maybe you should run.”
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Okay, that was not good. At all. These guys wanted to hurt her. She was prey… of the very worst sort.
Her inner wolf snarled. Some of it must have escaped her, but that only made him lick his lips like she’d just given him a delicious present. Mia curled her fists and took a step back to widen her stance. Maybe this was it. Maybe she’d finally lose her secret and everything else that went with it. But she wasn’t letting them do whatever sick things they had planned without a fight. If they were lucky, she’d stop short of actually killing them.
Her wolf surged against her skin, battering her from the inside, wanting out. She wanted to claw their faces, sink her teeth into their necks. Mia held her wolf back, trying to think it through. She hadn’t shifted in so long. She would get tangled in her clothes, probably fall on her face before even getting out a growl. And who knew what else the creeps might have… weapons… she swallowed, wondering if taking off her shirt might distract them long enough to get through the transformation…
The lead guy’s nostrils flared. Even a human could probably smell the stink of fear on her. The guy by the door leaned a beefy hand against it, holding it closed, while the other one edged around her, cutting off her one route of escape down the alley.
The lead creep flexed his hands and stepped toward her—
With a scrape and a thud, the door flew open. The thug who had been holding it stumbled backward and tumbled to the moon-brightened pavement. Another figure stomped out and quickly scanned the alley. His gaze fell on Mia and raked across the length of her body. Even across the span of the twenty feet between them, she felt it, like a hot paintbrush across her flesh. His face was familiar, but her fear-addled brain couldn’t quite place it. The man turned his glare to the creeps in the alley and used one hand to close the door behind him without looking.
Everyone had been frozen during all of this.
Then all hell broke loose.
The thug on the ground lunged up with frightening speed. He grabbed the man at the door, wrestling him away from it. The lead thug started taking off his clothes.
What?
He ripped off his shirt in one smooth motion, and before Mia could track its fall to the pavement, he had transformed into a snarling, bristle-haired red wolf the size of a bear. Mia jerked back, skittering to the side of the alley and flattening herself against the brick. The red wolf lunged at the man, while his sidekick tore off his own shirt and morphed into another wolf, this one so dark red, his fur was almost black. They led with their fangs, but somehow the man had slipped away, leaving them with nothing but a mouthful of shirt. The third thug, the one who hadn’t transformed, was jerked backward, arms flailing out as he fell to the ground again. The two wolves snarled but held their place, pawing the ground. Their guttural sounds echoed off the hard walk. Her heart in her throat, Mia was frozen against the wall. She edged forward, enough to see what had stopped them.
A brown wolf, fur glistening white in the moonlight, had the door-holding man’s neck in his jaws. The man made gurgling noises, like he was already drowning in his own blood. The brown wolf snarled and must have clamped harder because the man flailed against his hold even though that could only have made things worse. Mia flinched, holding the wall and her breath, the iron scent of blood assaulting her nose. The two red wolves pawed the ground, yipped, and returned the snarl, standing stiff-legged and tall. But after a moment, they both took a step back. Then slowly, slowly, they lowered their muzzles to the ground, arching their backs slightly to do so. Even slower, their red
-bristled tails sunk to brush the pavement, then tucked between their legs.
Submission.
Her wolf recognized it right away, even though Mia had never seen another wolf in her life. But their actions flushed something through her—the shock of a cool shower on a hot day, both bracing and filled with relief. They had submitted. In their wolf form, the red wolves could no more attack the brown than they could fly—at least not now, not while their submission was still fresh, the authority of the alpha wolf still strong in their minds. Maybe later. Certainly once they were in human form again, and the alpha had less influence on their inner wolves. Mia knew what that felt like, an impulse that was stronger than her free human will, just from the few times she had let her wolf run free—mostly in the Olympic Mountains, where no one would see or wonder. But even in those few times, her thoughts, her actions, her very being seemed ruled by the instincts of her wolf.
The brown wolf released the man. Dark red smeared his throat, but he must not have been seriously injured, because there wasn’t blood spurting everywhere, and he managed to scramble away, still breathing. He ran past Mia, not even a glance back as he escaped down the moonlit alleyway, his imported shoes clacking on the pavement. The two red wolves still had their tails tucked, but now they were backing away, too. They snarled as they went, gaining volume as the distance between them and the brown wolf increased, until they yipped, tossed their heads, and turned to trot down the alley after their fellow thug.
The brown wolf stood straight, legs stiff, tail curled back… staring at her.
She stared back.
The only sounds were the thump of music from the club and the jerky breath heaving in and out of her, but the air was rich with the fight: the scent of blood, a tang of sweat, and the fading whiff of fear. There was a sweet under scent, familiar but something she couldn’t identify. The brown wolf was watching her with eyes deep as night and glittering with the moon. Then, as he held her gaze, he started to shift. Mia had never seen it in another person before. Only in herself, and when it happened, she wasn’t exactly looking in the mirror.
His gaze stayed fixed on her as the skin and bones of his body morphed, rearranging in some magic Mia didn’t understand even when it was her own body. He was a shadow lengthening, a form growing smoother and taller, trading fur for muscle, muzzle for square jaw, paws for long-fingered hands, until finally he stood tall and naked in all his… glory. There was really no other word for it. His shoulders were broad. Muscles rippled down his arms, catching the moonlight, kissing it, and sending it bouncing back to the night. The planes of his chest and stomach were silver-glazed marble, and farther down… Mia’s face ran hot as she realized the under scent was arousal. His arousal. And his erection was as glorious as the rest of him, tall and firm, the moonlight bathing it with a shimmering glow.
She jerked her gaze back up to meet his.
He slowly stepped toward her, each footfall measured and cautious, like she was a skittish deer he might be frightening off. A fluttery panic rose up in her chest as he approached, making her want to run just like one—not because she feared him, but because he radiated such raw power. Even in his human form, he was stealing her breath, holding her paralyzed against the wall in awe. She couldn’t imagine what he could compel her to do in his wolf form.
Anything.
Her inner wolf whimpered.
He bent to pick something off the pavement. Only after he stopped approaching her and fussed with the thing he picked up, did she realize it was his pants. She looked away while he dressed, although that seemed silly, so she looked back again. By then, he was almost upon her, and she startled, hugging the wall once more.
When he was far away and naked, he was something like a Greek god. Up close and shirtless, he was less divine and more humanly, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. His dark brown eyes peered at her, studying her again. He was maybe mid-twenties, with a chiseled face that had lost all boyishness. His chest was raked with four lines of red, where a claw must have found him in the fight, but his wounds were already starting to heal. As she watched, the lines slowly disappeared, just as she’d seen with her own skin many times. His chest was now bare of any marks except for his sprawling, black tattoo: a howling wolf in the middle with inky fur that bled into a thorny tribal design curling down his side. Her fingers ached to touch the silky black lines. He was close enough that his scent was nearly overpowering her—and not because it was strong. It reminded her of the fresh pines of the forest, mixed with a musky earth scent that was subtle and yet inescapable. It screamed I am male so loud that her knees went weak with it.
He lifted her chin with one finger. She held her breath while he inspected her. Then he released her from the finger touch, and her wolf wanted to nip after it.
“You’re not afraid,” he said softly.
“Should I be?” Her heart was pounding hard, and she was drenched in dampness, from the slick sweat of residual panic to the heat between her legs. He was wolf. He had to smell that. It made more heat rush to her face.
A smile lifted one side of his pinched-serious lips. “Most humans are after a wolf fight.”
She let out a breath. He thought she was human. It almost bubbled up a laugh, but she held it in.
His smile drifted away, replaced by seriousness.
“I’ve seen wolves before,” she said. Which, actually, was a lie. At least, she hadn’t seen any other wolves before tonight.
He nodded, slowly. She couldn’t decide if he believed her or not.
Then she realized… “But I won’t tell. Anyone. I promise.”
One eyebrow lifted. “Really? And why not?”
In that moment, she recognized him: he was her customer at the bar. One of the last ones before she shuffled out, ready to gag on the cocktail of pheromones in the club.
She gave him a tiny smile. “Because you tip well.”
He smiled, and it was like the moon had brightened.
She stood in awe of it for a moment. Then she added, “And, you know, for saving my life.”
He put a hand on the wall behind her and leaned in close. He drew in a breath, and his eyes half-lidded, then closed. Her pulse kicked up to approaching heart attack speed. Was he going to kiss her? Should she let him? Was there any possibility of her not?
Then she realized he was just… breathing her in. His eyes opened and peered into hers. He was close enough now that she could easily reach out and touch him. Kiss him. Her wolf whined a complaint, but she couldn’t do either of those things. She was paralyzed by his nearness.
“Did they hurt you in any way?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “Tell me the truth.”
She shook her head in tiny movements.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” His voice sounded strained.
She nodded with equally frantic small movements. Then, feeling like an idiot for not being able to form words, she forced out, “I’m okay. Really.”
He drew in another breath—more of her scent, she was sure of it—and bit his lip. It ran a quiver through her. Then just when she thought she might not be able to stand it anymore, that she might have to bridge the gap between them and just touch him… he eased back from the wall and dropped his hand. Then he simply turned away, leaving her hunched up against the bricks. She relaxed and tried to regain some composure, but her wolf spun rings of frustration inside her. She watched as he picked through the discarded shirts, shoes, and pants littering the now-empty alley. He found his shirt, slipped it on, swiped up two shoes and socks, then returned to her.
“Tell me where you live.” It was a command.
“McMahon Hall. At the University.” It didn’t occur to her until after the words were out of her mouth that telling a complete stranger in a moonlit alley where she lived probably wasn’t the best choice. But she wasn’t afraid of him in any way. He wasn’t capable of hurting her, not intentionally, she was sure of it.
He nodded like he had expected her compliance without question, then glance
d at the door to The Deviation. “It’s not safe for you to come back here.” He swung back to look at her with those intense, dark eyes. “They’ll return. And they’ll be looking for you.”
That ran a shiver through her. What would she do now? She needed this job. But she didn’t want to say anything. He’d just saved her life: she didn’t want to argue. And he was right. Next time he wouldn’t be there to save her. The pit of her stomach hollowed out.
Instead of saying any of that, she asked, “Do you have a name?”
“Yes.” The corner of his mouth quirked.
That tiny not-smile did a thing to her insides. “I see. A funny guy as well as an action hero. You know, if you don’t tell me, I’ll just make something up.”
His face lost its humor. “My name is Lucas.” He gestured down the alley away from the club. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
She looked back to the door. “I should tell them I’m leaving.” At Lucas’s dark look, she hastily added, “I’ll say I’m sick. Not telling anyone anything, remember?”
He hesitated, stared hard at the door, then nodded his permission. She shuffled toward the club. A glance back showed Lucas waiting for her, still barefoot and shirtless in the moonlight-drenched alleyway. Holy hell, he was hot. Or maybe his hotness came from the fact that he just possibly saved her life. Definitely saved her secret. Either way, she would make quick work of telling her boss she was done for the day and get back to the alley.
She was afraid he might disappear into the night if she didn’t.
Chapter Two
Lucas dropped Mia off at her residence hall with hardly a word. He had hailed a cab, so she didn’t even get a chance to peek in his car. Her attempts at small talk on the way back were met with stony silence. It was as if he wanted to forget the night had happened as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure why he even bothered taking her back to her dorm. She could have taken the bus, just like she did to get to The Deviation in the first place. But there she stood, outside the door of her hall at one o’clock in the morning, still wearing her work clothes and watching Lucas slip away into the night via an anonymous yellow cab.
