by Jo Larue
“You have once chance to let go of me or you will regret it.” Chance said the words in a deep, controlled tone through clenched teeth.
Craven was either too crazed with anger or he was deaf. He yanked on her braid, attempting to pull her away from the table. Chance flipped over the grip he had on her arm driving her legs up and over with one boot catching his temple. He lost his grip and dropped straight to the floor.
Craven’s pack rushed over to tackle her at the same time Sylas and Jack got there. Sylas put his back to hers as the pack surrounded them. Jack was already in a scuffle on the backside of the table. The other patrons moved out of the way into the bar proper.
The pack began to circle them. Sylas caught the glimmer of knives in a few hands. Chance moved to watch them, and so did he, staying at her back. She never looked to see who was behind her, but she seemed to know it was an ally. Sy growled loudly, asserting his authority over all shifters.
Jerking his chin towards the Alpha he said, “You boys need to go pick up your man and leave now. I can’t promise you’ll leave here unharmed if you don’t.”
The pack attacked. Chance, Jack, and Sylas worked together like dancers, taking them down, one by one. Knives were thrust and knocked away. Punches were thrown and returned. Right when they thought it was over the Alpha stood back up, blood seeping down his face from where her boot caught him, ready for more.
Sylas stepped forward to take him on when a hand on his arm stopped him.
“He’s mine, stay back,” Chance said quietly.
It wasn’t in his nature to allow a woman to be in danger, but she seemed determined and capable of taking care of herself. He backed off and so did Jack after she gave him a look. Jack shrugged; a silent gesture that he was ready to take action if this went south.
Craven rushed her but didn’t get far. Her hand flew out when he was close enough and she caught him in the throat with a stiff fingered hand, nails first. Craven had too much momentum going and couldn’t stop. She grabbed both shoulders when he tried to slow down and kneed his groin. Craven doubled over and she finished with a sharp elbow to the back of the head, knocking him out cold.
She was seething with anger. It rolled off her so thickly he could literally taste it in the air. Sylas admired her fearlessness.
She stood over Craven and whispered, “No one touches me, no man touches me and your lowlife ass will never touch me again.” Then lower, so low that Sy thought he had imagined it, he heard, “Never without my permission.” Bristling, she walked back to her table, sat down, and downed the rest of her beer.
“What the hell was that all about?” Jack looked over at Chance shaking in rage.
“I haven’t a clue, but I’m going to make it a point to find out.”
He helped Jack escort Craven and his pack out of the bar. Jack told all of them they were no longer welcome, but not before he collected all the money he was owed.
Sylas pulled off his sunglasses and walked over to Chance’s table with a fresh cold one. She didn’t look up but nodded her thanks. Sylas wanted to lift her chin so he could look in her eyes.
Catching his hand halfway there he thought better of it. Instead, he sat down and waited for her to break the ice. No need to spook the woman before he even got to speak with her. Chance took the beer bottle and placed it against her cheek and neck in an effort to cool down. He quickly became jealous of the bottle, wanting to caress that silken cheek.
After a grueling ten minutes of silence, she finally looked up. Sylas hadn't taken his eyes off her “Thank you. It’s been a long time since anyone had my back. I'm not quite sure how to react. I’m glad I didn’t hurt you. That would’ve been… bad.” He nodded once, not sure of what to say. She smiled at him and Sylas forgot how to breathe. Baffled by his reaction, he told himself to wake up. He couldn’t help but smile in return.
Jack walked up to hand her the winnings and started laughing when he saw the look on their faces. His laugh was infectious and then they were all laughing deep, tension relieving belly laughs. When they could laugh no more, Jack made formal introductions.
“Chance meet my best friend, Sylas. Sylas, this is Chance. If you both will allow me, I’m ready to lock this place down. Fights always make me hungry. Late dinner on me, okay?”
Sylas waited for Chance to decide. She looked up and seemed unsure. Her emerald eyes had the tiniest bit of a spark to them, not quite a glow, and they glittered in the light. He smiled and shrugged one shoulder, hoping it was enough to entice her.
With obvious mistrust, she grudgingly said, “I guess I could go. I’m suddenly very hungry.”
Sylas was pleased. He still didn't understand what was happening with this woman, this human, but he wasn't going to waste time double guessing himself.
Never in his five hundred years had he known a woman such as her. She was self-sufficient, self-assured, and unafraid. There was a hint at some kind of great sorrow in her life. It showed in the tiniest of things, but mostly he caught it when he looked into those emerald eyes.
Sylas asked what Jack needed help with. They spent an hour cleaning up the bar before they were satisfied to close it up for the night, and headed out.
Chapter 5
While waiting for Jack to finish up, Chance thought back over the fight. Something wasn’t quite right with the events that had taken place. She’d had been caught off guard when she felt Sylas at her back. It wasn’t one of the bikers – instinct told her that, and while she was grateful for the help, it also meant she was responsible for his wellbeing. After all, Chance was the one who wanted to hustle the men even though she had the money from the lottery. There wasn’t really a need for it, other than she wanted to have some fun. Letting Sylas take the hit for that wasn’t right.
Sylas was all muscle, stealth, and danger. He wasn’t an innocent, and probably fully capable of protecting a woman, but Chance could take care of herself. Past experience taught her that relying on men lead down a dark path. With all the growling and posturing that had been going on before and right after, Chance recalled feeling nervous, as if they were predators and she was the prey. The feeling had put her immediately on the defense, not to mention her body feeling as if it was answering some kind of predatory call. It was in this singular moment that she knew that Sylas had brought on those strange feelings.
Chance remembered the moment when she was able to take a closer look at him. He sat down on the stool in front of her while she cooled down. His smile had taken her breath away. If she thought Jack was good looking, then she needed to check her mind in at the local psycho ward. Jack paled in comparison. Sylas had dimples in his cheeks that only showed themselves when he grinned. He sported a shadow of beard that her fingers itched to touch. His features were Romanesque, with full lips that begged to be lightly bitten and teased. Green eyes that seemed to glow were framed with thick black lashes and they crinkled along the edges when he smiled.
Chance had looked lower, dropping her head to hide her perusal. His body was all man. Powerful, with wide shoulders that dropped to a smaller waistline, thighs that were large and well-defined. All in all he was a perfect male specimen. Raising her head to look into those eyes, she saw something there. Confusion, maybe? Desire, definitely. But there was something more, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
If Sylas was a predator, was she willing to be his prey? Her mind said no, but her body was screaming yes. Chance wasn’t sure about the strange feelings suddenly stirring within her body and mind.
* * * *
Chance was walking towards her bike when she heard someone call out her name. She stopped and turned, surprised to find Sylas standing so close. She had to fight the urge to step back.
“You forgot your coat. Here, let me help you with it.” He spoke quietly, holding it out for her. She turned to put her arms in. He pulled it up and set the shoulders of her coat down. Gently, he pulled her braid up from under her coat. “Such beautiful hair on an even more beautiful
woman.”
Chance could barely hear his praise. A rush of heat warmed her. She cleared her throat and asked, “So where are we going to eat?”
“There is a diner on the east end of town that is open all night and they actually have excellent food and a great menu,” Jack told her. “You can ride with one of us or follow, it makes no matter to me.”
“I’ll follow if that’s okay. I need to head home after and no reason to come back here since I live on the east side too.”
Chance walked towards her bike. She avoided looking at Sylas during the brief exchange with Jack. She was unsure of the feelings he stirred in her. There was no doubt that redness had crawled up her neck and to her cheeks, and she didn’t want Sylas to see that. Sylas whistled – almost like a catcall. That was enough to push away the blush. Chance didn’t like being objectified.
Sylas’ head was cocked slightly and he was smiling when she turned to face him again. That smile instantly brushed away her anger and turned her insides into mush.
“Yes? Something wrong?”
“Is that your ride?” He had a wide grin on his face. The question caught Jack’s attention, and he walked over.
“Yes, why?”
“You won’t believe me so I guess I better show you.” Sylas held out his hand to her. “Come with me?” Chance looked at the hand extended. She wanted to take it and show some trust, but it just wasn’t in her. Sylas seemed to understand and motioned for her to follow him.
Jack laughed, a deep low rumble that could make anyone smile. “I don’t fucking believe it. Only you, Sy, only you!”
Chance followed Sy, trying to figure out what was so funny. It wasn’t until Sy stopped and pointed to the other side of Jack’s ride that she figured it out. There, in all its glory sat the twin bike to hers. Only his was mostly all black to her chrome. Opposites, but the same bike. She started laughing with them, lost to Jack’s comments about “What were the odds?” and “It must be a sign!”
Riding one after the other through the quiet streets, Chance took advantage of the crisp air and breathed in deeply. Lights from shop windows glistened on wet pavement, making this part of her world beautiful and serene. It wasn’t always like this, but when the moments came, who was she to ignore them.
Spring had finally graced this area of the country and the flowers were in full bloom. Fragrant bushes of Roses and Azaleas in every color, Dogwoods in pink and white, Forsythia in yellow, and Wisteria in shades of lavender and purple. Tulips and Irises were in full bloom as well. This was her favorite of all the seasons and she hoped to have all these and more blooming on her property next year.
Too soon they were at the diner and sitting at a four-top. She thanked the Goddess there was one open and available. She didn’t want to ruin the camaraderie with having to choose which male to sit beside in a booth. They were having a good time and they’d fought beside her, and still she was wary. She honestly didn't know these guys… yet.
After a short perusal of the menu, they all chose steak and eggs. Hunger gnawed at her insides, grumbling loudly in protest. Jack and Sy found it quite humorous, and Chance could only blush with embarrassment.
They chatted about bars and fights they experienced in the past and she sat listening intently while they talked and ate. Chance thought they sounded older than dirt, with all the tales they regaled her with, but she knew that wasn't possible. Both looked to be her age. Maybe they were adding in fights they witnessed? They claimed to have traveled all over the world, and she envied it.
Chance added in a tale or two of her own, not giving away anything personal. She talked about her past to no one, and she wasn’t about to start now. That part of her life was over. It wasn't who she was now.
Chance hadn’t laughed this much, since when? Never, is what it felt like and it probably was. It felt good and it felt right. She wanted more.
Chapter 6
Craven Doyle paced the floor in the pack’s common room. The pack had left straight from the bar and traveled north to their place in the woods. To heal properly the pack knew he needed to shift, and shifting in the city was too dangerous. Even after healing, his voice sounded like gravel, which wasn’t present before the bitch tried to kill him. She ruptured his trachea with one of her nails and if they hadn’t brought him to the compound in time the injury might have become permanent. Thankfully not all of them had ridden their bikes to the bar.
Craven waited for his Beta to arrive. This bitch was going down and he wanted to be the one to kill her, but he needed to find her first. He put in a call to a west coast pack, which boasted one of the best trackers in the country. His job would be to find her, notify him, and leave. Craven would take over from there, along with plans to take out the owner of the bar. The pack spent a lot of money in his bar since it opened. No one takes his money and kicks him out… no one.
The tracker was committed to someone in Canada for the next three weeks so he deployed some of his pack to dig up some dirt on the woman. His Beta, Trey, was one of those. Craven couldn’t remember much after the fight, or even during it for that matter, but he couldn’t recall hearing her name during the games. They had next to nothing to go on, other than a description. Trey was checking out known biker bars and pool halls in the area, to see if anyone knew who she was.
Craven needed to get this situation under control soon. If he didn’t, he would have other problems on his hands. The first and foremost was his pack. They saw their Alpha get taken down twice by a fucking human girl. They would see this as weak, and in a pack full of former rogues, he could count on a challenge from one or several in his pack. He personally selected all of his pack by hand from the worst of the worst. That meant he was precariously hanging on to his Alpha status daily.
Craven heard Trey coming before he saw him. The Beta walked with a distinctive limp, stemming from a fight with a leopard shifter back in the late 1980’s. He never went into much detail on it, but the man lived to even the score. Trey was tall and gaunt, haunted by the man who permanently maimed him. He was a man of few words, but the toughest of his pack. If a challenge came from anywhere, he knew Trey would be first in line.
Craven stopped his pacing long enough to bark, “Did you get anything on the bitch?”
“Nothing. Her trail begins and ends at the bar so far. No scent of her anywhere else.”
“You heard from any of the others yet?”
“No, too early,” Trey said with a frown.
“What is it, Trey?” Craven growled when he saw the change in Trey’s posture. “I’m too pissed for games right now. Until that tracker can get here, we have to do everything possible to find her. Move the pack out to a bigger search area. She is mine and she will pay!”
“If I’d been there I could have done something. It got too far out of control, Craven. I should have been there.”
Craven smirked at his comment. Trey was loyal to a fault, but not to him. The pack held his loyalty. He cared about them far too much. He just wondered when the breaking point towards him would come. “Too late for that now. You were on patrol duty. I need to get this bitch, and show her what pain really is. I’m gonna do her slow, real slow. There is something else I want you to take care of, Trey. I want you to work on plans to set the owner of the bar up. I want him and his place to burn, and I want it done after the tracker gets here. No need to bring any more attention to the pack right now. I know I can count on you to do it right.”
* * * *
“No problem boss, consider it done,” Trey replied through his teeth while watching Craven pace. He was beginning to think this latest fight had loosened another screw in the Alpha’s head. The man was right to be pissed about a human kicking his ass, albeit a woman, but he was beginning to think things were getting too far out of control.
He was talking about taking out another shifter and that could be very sticky, especially if the wrong people took offense. Mainly if it got traced back to this pack. Factor in the human and things could go bad
for all of them. Craven and the pack were well known from coast to coast. A pack of rogues never happened, but Craven managed it. Too many wanting to be top dog, so to speak, and that was never a good mix. His request for Trey to take out the puma showed Craven still trusted him.
Trey wanted that trust because it served his purpose. He’d always thought Craven was crazy; too crazy to hold this pack together. He watched Craven pace through a Beta’s critical eye. Craven was 6’4, lean but broad in the shoulders and chest. Trey was taller, and even though he had a limp, he knew he could take Craven out if he wanted. He would when the time was right. He wanted Craven to lose more face with the pack and then he would make his move. Craven was obsessed with this human, and he could sabotage his hunt for her. Maybe now is the time to take care of business, he thought with a grin.
* * * *
Craven stopped pacing again. He had just thought of the other shifter who was in the bar helping the girl. “Trey, there was another shifter with them, but I could not pick up his animal. He’s a friend with the puma. Maybe if you find him, you’ll find her.”
