Fur pushed at Ethan’s pores as his wolf rose to the surface. “Mine,” Ethan managed to get out, before the towel dropped to the ground and the shift overtook him.
His bones churned, pushing his skin out into the familiar ache of the shift. Fur sprang out, his nose pushed into a snout, and he dropped his mouth open to make room for the sharp point of his fangs. Within seconds he was big and black and furry. He leapt on Bart, his huge front paws slamming into the other man’s chest. Using his teeth he ripped the straps of his backpack out of the man’s hands. The impact had Bart tumbling to the ground. Ethan tossed his pack to the side and before Bart could even reach for the zipper on his jacket, it was over. Ethan had him by the throat, the dirty gray fur of Bart’s wolf filling his mouth. He growled and pushed his teeth in and Bart growled back, but he was belly up and trussed up in jeans and a jacket, unable to fight.
Ethan gave him a hard shake and Bart whined.
Bart wasn’t just heading toward the wrong side of forty, but he smoked too much weed and ate too much junk food to keep his physique in fighting shape. Ethan had him backwards and forwards and the older man knew it.
He gave one last warning growl, letting the rumble of his threat vibrate into the other wolf’s throat before letting him go, backing up and shifting to human. “Don’t you ever fucking touch my stuff again.” The words were barely human, but Bart whined and bowed his head, at least temporarily acknowledging Ethan’s dominance.
Ethan scooped up his art supplies, catching a glimpse of Sven watching from the window as he headed for the front of the trailer. He opened the door, too much adrenaline still singing through his veins.
“It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sven turned away from the back window and gave him a hard look. “Why do you need any of it?”
Eddy and Frank were sitting on the couch. Sven gave them a hard look and they both leaned back, obviously not interested in getting involved.
Ethan only gave them a passing glance. Sven was the one he had to deal with. Eddy and Frank were just betas along for the ride.
“None of your business.” He headed for the hallway and his room.
Sven moved right up into his face, pulling his upper lip back in a snarl. “You’re hanging with my gang, Blaylock, it’s all my business.”
Ethan considered his options. He’d been with Sven’s gang for a year now, and as far as rogue wolves went, they weren’t horrible. Sven made sure they had a place to sleep, food, and work, such as it was. Mostly it was petty theft, taking old cars and turning them into parts. Ethan hated it—hated living with the trash and the stink too—but he had to survive. That’s why when they were near a town like Snowflake, he took advantage of it and went and earned some cash the old fashioned way, with his skills.
“Well?” Sven gave a small growl.
His wolf, still revved up from the fight, rose up inside, ready to challenge Sven. For a second, Ethan considered it. He could take the older wolf, he was sure of it, but as rough as the loose group of rogues were, they fed his wolf’s need for pack. He’d been out on his own before, and it was lonely.
He shook off his aggression and gave Sven a sheepish grin. “I just like to get away, see what’s in town. And hell, it gives me an excuse to check out the women.”
Sven slapped Ethan’s shoulder and gave him a friendly shove. “Shit, yeah, boy.” He sat down on the sagging couch and grabbed the clicker, turning on the sixty inch TV they’d stolen still in the box from the back of some rich guys’ truck.
Ethan escaped the squeals of the reality bimbos in their bikinis with their fake fighting, and headed down the hall. After he’d gotten dressed and repacked his stuff he left. The living room was filled with smoke and both Sven and Bart barely gave him a nod as he left. Like most scuffles in the gang, it was already forgotten. He cranked the rebuilt engine of his seventy-five Indian motorcycle up. Reassured by the purr he headed down the long dirt drive for the road and the ski town of Snowflake.
Rogue leaders like Sven had to constantly bite their groups into obedience. Unlike packs with stable alphas, they formed and reformed constantly around whoever could take control. The six months he’d spent with this group of rogues had to be a record for Ethan. Ever since he’d been orphaned at sixteen, and his life had fallen apart, he’d been kicking the streets. His original pack had collapsed under bad leadership, many of them had gone into other packs, but an adolescent with a chip on his shoulder hadn’t been welcome. He’d wandered the country on his own for a while, staying clear of the organized packs. He’d hang out with one or two rogues at a time, splitting off when they got too violent and moving on.
Sven’s group felt like it was about to do that, fracture into pieces. They always did. And when that happened Ethan wanted to be long gone on his bike, with his own cash in his pocket and his art supplies in his pack. He’d survive. He always did.
Snowflake, a little ski-town ten miles off of the interstate, was just as cute a town as its name implied. Ethan had been here before, off and on over the years. He knew a few of the townspeople, and they knew him enough to know he wouldn’t cause any trouble.
During the summer months, they had farmer’s markets. Fall they had Oktober Fest. And now, in the frigid cold of a Rocky Mountain winter, everything was decorated to attract the tourists and to get them to empty their wallets. Christmas stores with bright lights that sold ornaments year-round, were having their heyday. Taffy shops, spelled SHOPPE, and fudge stores, were on nearly every corner. There was a pink and brown striped barber pole outside of the Scoop it Up! ice cream parlor. And everywhere were the tourists.
Ethan went to the corner where he’d done well the day before and scanned the area.
It looked good. It was right in front of the ice cream parlor that also served hot drinks and pastries during the chilly season. Customers would pause on their way in and out and he’d talk them into a cartoon of themselves as a superhero, manga style. And, if they didn’t have an ice cream cone or a cup of hot chocolate, he’d talk them into that as well. He’d always been able to smile and wink and get the pleebs to do what he wanted. It was his only gift. Well, that and his skills on the sketch pad.
He took out some samples of his work—grateful that Bart hadn’t damaged them in his quest to discover Ethan’s non-existent stash of pot, and mounted them to the small collapsible easel. Manga versions of superheroes were his specialty. He loved the way he could make the kids grin when he drew them, giving them longer hair, bigger eyes, and capes and superpowers.
The day was bright and sunny and not too cold, despite the snow on the ground. He’d done one or two cartoons for people, a little boy with a huge grin covered in chocolate smears, and was working on a young couple, holding hands. They were on their honeymoon, something he was sure he’d never have.
You had to have a job to get a wife, and when you were a rogue wolf, it was more complicated than that. Female wolves were highly prized, they were never pushed out of packs. Even as crabby adolescents they found homes. There were a few female rogues, but they were tough as nails and just as bound to the road as he was. And they all had mates of their own, tough hard-bitten men with suspicious eyes. He knew he’d never be invited to a scenting ceremony, never have the chance to find a mate.
He smothered the surge of envy and did a really nice job on the couple. They paid him with huge smiles on their faces and he suggested they go into the ice cream shop and celebrate with a coffee. They nodded, talking non-stop to each other, and went inside.
Something raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Without seeming to, he checked out the area. Across the street he saw a cop, leaning against a wall and staring at him.
“Shit.”
Should he move on?
Ethan glanced around. He was pretty sure no one had complained about him. He wasn’t causing any trouble.
Nah. He’d wait and see what happened. This corner was good. He’d worked it the day before and come back with a couple hundred bucks he’d manag
ed to stash in his wallet away from the prying eyes of the other rogues. That he’d taken into the shower, stashing it on the shelf over the showerhead so it would stay dry. If he stayed here he might make another hundred, maybe more. Something was up with Sven’s gang, who knew where he’d be sleeping in a few days? Trouble was coming, he could smell it on the air.
The light changed. The cop left his wall and strode across the fake cobblestones of the intersection, a determined set to his jaw. He came right up to Ethan, getting far too close. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
Ethan’s hackles rose, but he pushed his wolf down hard. “Just trying to make an honest living, sir.”
“Yeah? What’s in the backpack? Drugs?” The cop looked fresh behind the ears, straight out of cop school. He definitely had a chip on his shoulder and by the look in his eye he was daring Ethan to knock it off and make his day. If only he knew how hard Ethan could knock. “We don’t like your kind in Snowflake.”
But Ethan didn’t bite. He was only a couple of years older but a whole lot wiser. He gave the cop an easy smile, making sure not to show too much teeth. “I’m just an artist. No drugs.” He held the backpack open so the cop could see inside. “Look, extra paper, pencils, charcoal. Nothing sinister.”
The cop crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on the heels of his feet. “I don’t like the way you look, son.”
A family with two kids made a wide berth around them. The little girl squealed and pointed at the picture of flying pink, blue, and green girls, but her parents pulled her aside and down the street.
Ethan cursed silently. Even if the cop left him alone, he might have lost his business for the day. No one wanted trouble in a sweet tourist town like this. No one.
Just as he was deciding what to do, the door to the ice cream shop swung open, the bell chiming merrily. A man came out, mid to late twenties with dark hair, wiping his hands on a white ice cream smeared apron. “Hi, Ben, what seems to be the problem?”
The cop’s shoulders went back and his chin shot up. “I was just asking this slime ball to move away from your store, Mike.”
Mike nodded. “I can see that. But can you do me a favor and let him stay? He was here yesterday and business doubled. People came and watched him draw. And he sends just as many inside as come out to watch.”
Ben’s forehead wrinkled up. He stared hard at Ethan. Finally he nodded. “Sure thing, Mike.” He waggled a finger at Ethan, giving him a stern look that changed his expression from young to threatening. “Remember, I’m watching you.” And he walked slowly away, hands open and ready for action at his sides, his back stiff.
Ethan turned to Mike. “Thanks, man. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem. Everything I said was true. Business is great with you out here.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Mike Stellar, by the way.”
Ethan took it. “Ethan Blaywolf.” It was a nice firm handshake, not too hard and aggressive, not too soft and wimpy.
“You know, you could come inside if it starts to snow. I’ll move that table and put you in the front window. We could even put a few pictures up on the walls, if you like.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m good.”
“Well, if you change your mind, come on in.” He took a step back, but before he went he cocked his head at Ethan and gave him a smile. “You’re good for business, Ethan Blaywolf, if you want, you have a place here.”
He had no idea what made this man offer him something that his own kind never had. He’d never made many friends, moved on too fast, but there was something about the easy smile on Mike’s face that had him wishing that some time he’d be able to do just that, hang out in one of these sweet tourist towns and make friends.
He shook it off. That wasn’t the way things were. He was a drifter. And that’s the way it was going to stay.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Mike nodded and went back inside, waving at someone down the street.
Another pang of envy went through Ethan and he frowned.
What the hell was wrong with him? First the newlyweds, now this. He was getting soft. Definitely time to move on. He changed to a quick flirty smile and grinned at the next person coming down the street, an elderly woman with a walker and oxygen. “Would you like a drawing of yourself as a superhero?” He winked at her and she blushed.
Ah, yes. This was what he understood. Flirting with the ladies to get a dollar. It was his life. It was what he knew. That, and being on the run. Survival, it was what he was best at. If he wanted more, well, it just wasn’t in the stars.
Chapter Three
From the back seat of Trish’s SUV, Addison looked out the window at the snowy mountain scene and sighed. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m with Trish, remember? And don’t forget, the lodge we’re going to is pack owned.”
She heard a snort from the front of the car and made a face in the rear-view mirror at the driver. Trish winked before looking back at the very curvy road.
“I’ll call you when we’re in the room, Mom. Love you. Bye.” Addison hung up and leaned back into the seat. “Overprotective she-wolves. Oy.”
“Hey, all moms are like that.” From the seat next to her, Gabby nodded wisely. “Human moms, wolf moms, hey, I bet even witch moms are worry warts.” She grinned. “Worry warts, get it?”
Everyone else groaned, but the silly joke had Addison smiling again. She was with her besties: Trish, Gabby and Eve, and they had the whole weekend to bitch and moan and let loose! Trish, of course, was a shifter like herself, but Gabby and Eve were human. She’d met them at college and loved getting to know how the other half lived. Funnily enough, Gabby was right. There were so many similarities to shifter life, it was insane.
But then there were the differences.
“It’s just this stupid thing about being introduced to so many males I dislike. George sure knows how to pick ‘em. You should have seen the way this last one, Julian, looked at me. As if I were a roly-poly he wouldn’t even bother to squash with his boot.”
“Roly-polys are cute, and so are you.” Gabby leaned over and gave her a hug. “And if this Julian is too stupid to know a good thing when he sees it, then screw him.”
“That’s right.” Trish agreed.
“Screw the dude!” Eve did a fist pump and then giggled. “Well, maybe don’t screw him. He doesn’t deserve sex with a babe like you.”
Addison smiled and looked back out the window at the snow covered rocks and trees streaming by. She had the best friends. Sure they all loved their wine and chocolate and sugary flavored lattes a little too much—none of them were skinny-Minnies. But that’s one of the reasons she loved them. They never judged, just supported. You couldn’t buy friendships like this. She might have issues with her family, but when it came to friends, she was super lucky.
Trish drove the big silver SUV around a bend in the road. As they crested the rise there was a brief opening in the trees to the left as the view of the valley opened up below.
It was much bigger than Addison had expected. The open valley spread out in a wide expanse of snow and forest, and the only building she could see was huge. Wolf Valley Lodge was isolated for a ski lodge, but that suited the supernatural clientele of mostly shifters, who also took advantage of the large piece of property adjoining the state park and the privacy.
“Wow!” The gap in the trees closed and Addison strained to catch glimpses of the view between the scattering of pines bordering the narrow mountain road as they began their descent. “Is that the lodge?”
“Yep.” Trish drove down the steep road, taking the hairpin curves like an expert. “Wolf Valley Lodge, best ski resort in the Rockies.”
“You have to say that, your brother owns it.”
“Well, of course. But I’ve stayed at some of the other resorts and it is one of the best. Linc works overtime to make sure everything runs smoothly. That’s why it costs so much to stay here. That, and it’s discreet.” She waggled her eyebrows. �
�Very discreet.”
“Thanks so much for inviting us, Trish.” Gabby’s eyes were huge and round as she leaned over Addison, trying to see. “I can’t believe we’re going to a shifter ski lodge.”
“We don’t just have shifters, there are other sups there. And don’t expect to see anyone shifting in public. There are certain areas that are off limits to anyone who isn’t a shifter, so there’s plenty of room for that wild experience. Of course, you and Eve won’t be able to go there, but Addison can.”
“I’ll be sticking with the girls. I’m here for girl-talk, wine and shopping. I can’t wait to head back over that hill and check out those cute little shops in Snowflake.”
They pulled up to the front of the lodge and disembarked. Up here, there was snow on the ground and the air was crisp with the scents of winter in the mountains. Addison took in a deep breath. Fresh air, the tang of pines and biting cold.
This is what freedom smelled like. She couldn’t wait to experience it.
Trish leaned in closer. “One of the big benefits of a shifter-run hotel is that everything is washed in neutral scents, no overwhelming fabric softeners for our sensitive noses.” She crinkled her nose and the tiny scattering of freckles crinkled too.
Addison laughed and gave her a hug. “Thanks for having us.”
“I’ve missed all of you.” Trish hugged her back. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my next three days off than hanging with my besties.”
Addison grinned and headed around the back of the SUV. She loved Trish like the sister she’d never had. The petite curvy redhead had been her best friend since she was just a pup. Trish, and Trish’s family were one of the reasons she thought she’d grown up into a reasonable person. Thank goodness for the Hunters. They were a rowdy bunch, but the love they had for each other shone through even the occasional scuffle she’d witnessed between the siblings. Ever since Trish had moved up to the lodge permanently to be the on-staff physical therapist, Addison had missed her like crazy.
Sassy Ever After: Sassy Wolf and the Rogue (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 2