Beautiful Moves: A Motorcycle Club, Shifter, Romance (Shifting Steel Book 3)

by Stephanie West

  Just a little bit more.

  Creak. Thud. Thud.

  “What the fuck?” the bald guard snarled as he picked himself up from the floor, and stared at the ruined chairs.

  The one with the crew cut and a neck tattoo, eyed her menacingly as he dusted himself off.

  “You’re lucky you’re off limits,” he said with a calm demeanor that was more frightening than if he got pissed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be happy about being held against my will?” Ella couldn’t help the sarcastic defensive reply.

  “You tried to rob our alpha. You’re getting off easy.”

  “I’m sick of babysitting this bitch,” Baldy groused. “I can’t believe the shit she’s done.”

  “Maybe you should’ve been paying better attention, rather than sitting down on the job,” Ella retorted, not appreciating the bitch comment.

  Neck Tattoo walked over, grabbed the mattress, and yanked it out from under her. Ella went sprawling backwards, hitting her head against the wall.

  “Now, none of us have anything to sit on. Happy?”

  Ella desperately tried to control her outburst, but the fear and anger got the best of her. The mattress exploded filling the room with stuffing. It swirled and whipped through the air like a blizzard.

  “Are you fucking kidding me!” one of them cursed.

  Someone came at her through the haze of churning fluff. Ella scrambled out of the way and ran toward the door, but hit a solid wall of flesh. The man gripped her arms, making her cry out.

  “Stop it,” Baldy choked.

  The man shook Ella violently, rattling her teeth together.

  “Let me go,” she screamed.

  “It’s not happening freaky bitch.”

  Ella kicked out blindly. Baldy grunted when her foot struck him. Rather than releasing her he shook harder.

  There was a waft of air and the roiling polyfill flooded the hall.

  “Put her down,” Drake growled, exposing his fangs, as he loomed in the doorway.

  The whirlwind of stuffing instantly dropped to the floor when Ella saw the stormy expression on Drake’s face. The vein in the side of his neck was throbbing, and his eyes had taken on that frightening inhuman glow again. She knew she was pushing her luck when their inner beasts pushed to the surface. Baldy set her on the floor and Ella stumbled back from the enraged man.

  Drake looked around the room.

  “Chase, what the hell is going on?” Drake asked Neck Tattoo.

  “Your guest decided to play with the chairs, then turned the room into a winter wonderland.”

  Ella opened her mouth to reply, then closed it when Drake fixed her with that terrifying stare.

  “I’ve had enough of this. You will fucking bathe, and put on something besides those rags,” Drake barked. “And you will do it without pitching a fit, or I’ll take the god damn fire hose to you, then pull off this belt and show you what happens to little girls who misbehave.”

  Ella flinched. She knew she reeked, she could smell herself. That’s what happens when you don’t shower for days.

  “Maybe I would, if Cue Ball didn’t insist on supervising.”

  Ella screeched when Drake crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He gripped Baldy by the neck and shoved him up against the wall. Drake’s long sharp canines were a scant breadth from the man’s face.

  “What did I say about Miss Roulant?” Drake rumbled so low Ella felt it reverberate through the room.

  “No one touches her,” Baldy choked out, as his face turned beet red.

  “And what did I find?” Drake’s beast was shifting across his face. His claws were biting into Baldy’s neck. “You, holding her a foot off the floor,” he snarled his knuckles turning white as they tightened around the man’s neck. “Then I hear you’re sniffing around her. Are you challenging my claim?”

  “No,” Baldy wheezed, his eyes bulging.

  Ella started trembling when she heard the bones in Baldy’s neck crunch. Drake was choking the life out of his own man. Baldy had roughed her up and was generally a creep, but Ella couldn’t bear to watch Drake murder him.

  “Please stop,” she begged.

  She couldn’t help but reach out with her gift to grab at Drake’s hand, but it did little good.

  “Don’t fucking interfere,” Drake snarled at her. “I don’t have patience for ignorance or betrayal.”

  Ella backed up until she hit the wall, and watched in horror as blood started pouring down Baldy’s throat, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Drake dropped the limp man to the floor, then turned toward Ella. She wrapped her arms across her chest and tried to erect a barrier around herself.

  “Dump him out in the dessert,” Drake commanded Neck Tattoo, as he took out a silk handkerchief and cleaned off his bloody hands.

  Drake reached out and gripped Ella’s wrist, tugging her out of the small room.

  “As I was saying, you will bathe, get dressed, and behave. Do we understand each other?”

  Ella nodded as they entered the elevator. She hadn’t been permitted to leave the small concrete room in days, except to use the bathroom. Ella knew she should be looking for an opportunity to free herself, but she was too freaked out, having just witnessed him murder a man. Ella didn’t dare piss Drake off further, with a botched escape attempt. It was taking all she had just to keep from flipping out.

  “The response is, yes sir.” Drake’s hand tightened on her wrist to emphasize his point.

  Ella’s eyes widened, but she didn’t dare cop an attitude.

  “Yes sir,” she murmured.

  When the elevator opened again, Ella was stunned by the sight that greeted her. Drake brought her to the penthouse, instead of some new clandestine concrete bunker. Much like Drake’s office, the penthouse was ostentatious. There was a mix of leather, high-end textiles, antiques, art and electronics. She had a clear view of the Vegas skyline through the wall of windows. It looked gorgeous as the sun dipped low on the horizon. But that was the last thing on her mind.

  “I don’t have to tell you not to destroy anything, do I?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No sir,” Ella replied flatly.

  She noticed the gilded ceiling and almost snorted. Ella hated the modern method some craftsman used when gilding. They applied the metal sheets so it looked like a series of gold squares, rather than blending them together like the old masters would. Ella had a theory that it was done so everyone knew it was real gold, and couldn’t mistake it for spray paint.

  Look at me, I’m a pretentious douche. I have a genuine gilded ceiling.

  Ella silently distracted herself from her current reality. She had been desperate to get out of that small room, but now she wanted to go back. The four gray walls were preferable to being alone with a psychotic murderer, who was literally part animal.

  Drake led Ella past the sunken living room to the master suite, which was just as large and gaudy as the sitting room.

  “The bathroom is through that door. You will find clothing hanging up for you. Take all the time you need.”

  Drake took a seat at a small table near the balcony, and flipped open a laptop, effectively dismissing her.

  Ella was desperate to take a shower. She felt gross and grimy. Her skin itched and her hair was so oily it hung limp. She stood uncomfortably debating what to do. Ella wasn’t thrilled about getting naked anywhere near Drake, then she remembered his firehose threat. After seeing what he’d done to Baldy, she believed he’d take a hose a belt to her.

  Ella walked through the bathroom door, shut and locked it. She turned and her jaw dropped. It wasn’t the tub that was the size of a small pool, or the wall-to-wall onyx, that had her stunned. It was the nineteen-sixties beaded chiffon party dress that hung next to a Louis XV kidney shaped dressing table, covered in brand new cosmetics.

  Ella nervously walked over to the table and examined the items. They were all appropriate for her skin tone.
She looked at the dress with mounting dread. It didn’t have a label indicating the size, but she knew it would fit her.

  “Oh god,” she retched, as she backed away from the things that were obviously purchased just for her.

  Ella started hyperventilating. It felt like the walls were closing in on her. She wondered earlier what Drake wanted with her. Well the other shoe had dropped. The first day, when he pressed her against the wall, grinding his arousal into her stomach, came rushing back. Ella attempted to forget the incident, since nothing else had happened. But she couldn’t ignore this. Drake clearly had expectations she was unwilling to live up to.

  One, breathe. Two, breathe. Three, breathe.

  Ella tried to force her fear down to a manageable roar. She grabbed a glass of water with shaky hands, and sat on one of the benches, before she collapsed.

  Her thoughts went to Wolf as they had several times over the last few days. She’d give anything to have him here. She didn’t want him in harm’s way, she just really needed to feel a comforting set of arms wrapped around her.

  Ella wished she’d met Wolf sooner. Their time together had been all too brief. He was so damn maddening, sexy and funny. He forced Ella out of her comfort zone, and showed her a bliss she never believed possible. And she didn’t have to hide from him. Then in the span of a few hours her life turned to shit.

  Shut it down, Ella, she scrubbed the tears from her eyes. You’ll figure a way out of this mess.

  Ella pulled her emotions back into herself and locked them away, like she had so many times before. She got up stripped and stepped into the enormous steamy tub.

  Ella languished as long as she could in the salon sized bathroom, before emerging, wearing the couture dress Drake picked out for her. She was tempted to forgo putting on the thong panties, but some underwear was better than no underwear. Regardless Ella washed out her trusty Victoria Secret bikini briefs and stashed them where she hoped they’d dry for later. How butt floss ever became fashion was a mystery.

  Drake glanced up and sniffed the air. He arose from the chair and stalked forward. Ella stood deathly still as he circled her, wearing an imperious judgmental expression.

  “You did not like the perfume I purchased for you?”

  “I don’t wear perfume much.”

  Ella used as little of the overpriced products in the bathroom as she could get away with. Regardless of their price, they made her feel cheap and dirty, like Drake was trying to buy her off.

  “Good. I think we will get along better than I imagined.” Drake leaned in close to her back as he spoke. “I have a keen sense of smell and much prefer a female’s natural perfume.” He took a deep breath at the crook of her neck. “But I have come to accept that woman like such frivolous things.”

  Ella tried her best to not tremble as Drake violated her personal space. She now wished she bathed in every fragrance in the bathroom. She kept her eyes straight forward, focusing on the roof of the nearby Venetian hotel.

  “Are you familiar with the jewelry maker Ungaro?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No sir,” Ella corrected, while clenching her jaw.

  “They have a rather ingenious line of trinkets. I had them make something special for you.”

  Drake clasped the gold choker around her neck. Ella glanced down to see a rather impressive amber pendant. Drake stepped in front of her and admired the necklace.

  “I thought it would go nicely with your hair and eyes. I can see that I was correct. Anyway, this piece isn’t just lovely, it’s stunning like the woman whose neck it graces.”

  Drake pulled out his iPhone and tapped the screen. Ella dropped to her knees when a surge of electricity coursed through her. She suppressed the scream bubbling in her throat as she clawed at the necklace.

  “Ah, ah, ah. That stays where it is. The little bauble is my guarantee you will mind your manners while we are out.”

  Ella panted on her hands and knees, trying to regain her composure. Drake was a sadistic inhuman beast.

  “As much as I like you in this position, it will have to wait till later,” Drake commented, his crotch a few inches in front of her face.

  Ella desperately wanted to punch him in the nuts, but she wasn’t willing to risk getting lit up like a Christmas tree again. She still felt the pain radiating from her neck down her spine.

  Drake tugged her up by her arm, and led her out of the penthouse. They descended to the lobby and exited the hotel. Tourists cast admiring stares their direction. Some even took pictures. No doubt she a Drake looked like a couple straight off the cover of Rich and Famous.

  If they only knew.

  “Here you are, sir.” The valet jumped out of a silver and black sports car, holding the door open for Ella as he handed the keys to Drake.

  Drake couldn’t drive a Lamborghini or a Bugatti like normal obscenely rich men. No, he had a Trevita. Ella would usually assume Drake was overcompensating for inadequacies in other areas, but unfortunately, she’d already felt just how big Drake’s ego was, when he pressed against her.

  “You will have to get used to the attention.” Drake waved at the gawkers standing on the curb as he pulled away from the Palazzo.

  Ella didn’t care about them, she was stuck on Drake’s comment. Growing accustomed to overly interested tourists or paparazzi implied she’d be with Drake for an extended amount of time.

  I can’t live like this.

  “Why? Why are you doing this?” Ella worked to keep the wavering tremble out of her voice.

  “You, Miss Roulant are an exceptional creature.” His hand drifted to her knee, but thankfully he removed it again to shift gears. “I have dated many woman, but none of them have been quite what I’m looking for. I was prepared to settle for one of my own kind, except the females only carry Shifter traits, they don’t express them. They might as well be run of the mill humans,” he said in disgust. “Plus, the women of my clan are over-eager sycophants. As the alpha, I need a mate who is more my equal. Our progeny will be a force to be reckoned with.”

  Ella was speechless. She assumed Drake wanted to sleep with her and use her skill, but she hadn’t imagined this. The idea that they were compatible hadn’t even occurred to her. Ella couldn’t determine what the hell Drake and his men were. Now he was talking about breeding some kind of super race.

  The worst-case scenario Ella feared, was that Drake would use her, tire of her, then dispose of her body. But this assured that the nightmare would live on, in the form of god knows what. She couldn’t let this happen.

  “And your idea of wooing me is abduction, forcing me to watch a murder, and shocking the hell out of me?”

  “Mind your tone Ella,” Drake snarled, baring his fangs.

  “I’m sorry. You stated you wanted someone who was your equal. It seems though, you would prefer someone who is seen but not heard. A beautiful yet mindless puppet,” Ella replied feeling bolder than she ought to.

  Thankfully Drake chuckled rather than pick up his phone to reprimand her.

  “You have much to learn, Miss Roulant. I was referring to our genetic stock and the challenge you will undoubtedly present when it comes to bed-sport. There is no parity in my clan. I am alpha and my word is law. Gender equality is an illusion created by you Outsiders.” Drake’s hand returned to Ella’s knee. His grip was tight, illustrating just how much stronger he was than her. “So, to answer your question; yes, I want you to sit there and look pretty. And the only time I want to hear that lovely mouth of yours, is when its screaming my name, as I split your little cunt in two.”

  Ella couldn’t believe what she was hearing, though she expected nothing less from the disgusting man. The car started vibrating, and shimmied on the road.

  “Ella, you ruin my Trevita and we’re going to have a problem,” Drake snarled as he reached for his phone. Ella took a deep breath and put a lid on her curse. “Better.” Drake dropped his phone, and Ella sighed.

  You have to do
better about losing your temper. The sadistic bastard would love nothing more than to light you up.

  “We are getting close to our destination, so listen carefully. The men we are meeting with are also Shifters.”

  There’s more of them, she thought in distress.

  “We get together every now and then, and pretend to play a nice game of cards. I want you to do what you attempted to do in my casino, but I want you to guarantee that both I and Coso lose. Make it subtle in the beginning, but toward the end, I want it obvious that the house is cheating us.”

  So here it is. This was how he wanted to abuse her curse. But why does Drake want to lose? He obviously didn’t need money. What’s his angle? What do rich people want? Respect. Power. The only thing Ella could figure is he was setting up the other shifters.

  The only problem was, she didn’t know how to play most of the casino games and wouldn’t be able to affect the cards, since she couldn’t predict their denominations.

  “That’s going to be a problem.”

  “You will do as you’re told,” Drake growled.

  “There was a reason I was playing Roulette and Craps,” Ella tried not to growl back, but failed. “Believe it or not but that WAS my first time in a casino. I am not a consummate cheater and I don’t have infinite abilities.”

  Drake glared at her for a moment, the muscle ticking in his jaw. Then he silently turned back to the road. He continued driving, staring out the windshield, brooding as he gripped the wheel with clawed hands. The tension in the car was thick. Ella hated it when Drake threatened her, but the silent treatment was more frightening. She imagined he was inventing a dozen different ways to torment her.

  “I’ll figure it out,” Ella mumbled as they pulled up to another large hotel with a giant lion outside.

  Instead of heading to the main high rise, Drake wound his way through the estate, to a building that looked like a mansion. Drake whipped the sports car around the circle driveway, coming to a halt beside the valet. He exited before the man reached his door.