Dance on the Wilde Side: Cannon Pack, Book 2

by Beverly Rae

  The wild force emanating from Devlin struck her, hyping the power growing within her. She saw no visible signs of him shifting. At least, not yet.

  George called to the people surrounding them. “Someone call the police. Get help. This guy’s going to kill me.” When no one budged to come to his aid, he whimpered and called to the bartender. “You! They’re going to wreck the place if you don’t get some cops in here right now.”

  But the bartender shook his head, picked up a baseball bat lying on the counter behind him, and rapped it against his palm. Frowning, he moved around the bar to stand with his back to Tala and her men. “Everyone keep away. I wouldn’t want my customers or my girls to get hurt.” He skimmed his eyes over George before adding, “But I’ll make an exception with you.”

  “Looks like you’re on your own, George. Defenseless. With no one to help and no one to do your dirty work.” Devlin rubbed his hands together. “And you’re all mine.” In a low whisper, he asked Tala, “Tell me why I can’t beat him up.”

  Tala caught the look Devlin and the bartender exchanged. Does he know this guy? Or is it just a guy thing?

  George’s bloodied mouth curved into a pitiful half-smile and he reached out a hand to her. “You won’t let him, will you, babe? Don’t let him hurt me.”

  Tala arched a brow and slapped his hand away. “Why do men want to call me that? Do. Not. Call. Me. Babe.” She delighted in his wince. “Dev, I didn’t mean you couldn’t beat him up. I just meant you shouldn’t do it right here. You know. In front of witnesses.”

  “Oh, right. Gotcha.”

  The bartender snorted. “Don’t worry none about witnesses, sweetheart. These folks know better than to talk about anything that happens at Max’s. Isn’t that right, folks?” He nudged her again and winked. “I’m Max, by the way.”

  A low murmur from the crowd confirmed his claim and Tala, once more, thought she noticed a bond, a kinship pass between Devlin and the man. “Do you two know each other?”

  Conrad, however, obviously wasn’t in the mood to exchange pleasantries. “George, you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

  Tala sensed the change in the two shifters. Raw power undulated in the stale air around them as each of them allowed a partial shift to happen. Two sets of fangs, each as dangerous as the other’s, replaced teeth, and full lips curled back into similar snarls. Two sets of deep brown eyes morphed, replacing the cool darkness with brilliant furious amber.

  Concerned about the crowd seeing them, Tala checked Max’s reaction and was shocked to find him smiling at the shifters. With a wink at her, he pushed the people farther away from their group.

  “You’re not good enough to lick my friend’s boots.” Conrad’s already stretched lips widened into an evil smirk. “But do it anyway.”

  Surprised at the command, Tala watched in awe as the terrified George fell to his knees. Crawling over to Devlin, he bent over and swiped his tongue over the toe of one boot. Between licks, he sobbed, tears dropping to the dusty floor.

  The crowd behind them, including George’s former supporters, burst into jeers to taunt the groveling man. Laughter joined the jeers, making George cry even harder.

  “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” George continued to lap up the grime off Devlin’s boots. The sight should have thrilled her. Yet, she couldn’t help the uneasiness clenching at her stomach. The order burst from her lips before she’d even thought the word. “Stop.”

  George halted, but didn’t get up. His body shook with unbridled fear and he waited for the next command.

  Tala placed her hand on her chest, knowing she couldn’t allow this to continue. Grasping Devlin’s arm, she hoped he’d understand. “I don’t want him tormented. I don’t want you sinking to his level. He’s the real animal. Not you.” She looked down at the pitiful man at their feet.

  The amber fury in Devlin’s eyes faded and soon she gazed into the soft brown eyes she loved. “Let him go. He won’t bother us any more.”

  “Now hold up. Don’t I have a say in this?” Conrad growled at George, sending him into another volley of shakes. “How about we have a little more fun first?”

  Devlin pulled her to him. Warm comfort, mixed with the ever-present attraction, flowed through her, followed by an intense rush of uncontrollable lust. She inhaled his masculine, dangerous aroma, drinking in everything he was, everything he had to offer. “Let him go. We can go home and make up for lost time in bed.” Rising on the tips of her toes, she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, promising him more.

  He groaned a half-human, half-animal sound and kept her against him. “Whatever you want.” Bending over, he yanked George to his feet. “If you ever come within a hundred yards of Tala, I promise you I’ll pluck out your eyes and have them for appetizers.”

  “Bleck, dude. Talk about nasty food.” Conrad scrunched up his face and swiveled away to ogle one of the strippers. “I can think of a dozen other things better to eat.”

  Devlin shook George again, eliciting a series of yelps from the terrified man. “You’re getting off easy this time, asshole. Now get lost.” He flung the trembling man away from him, leaving George to stumble toward the back of the club.

  Devlin good-naturedly jostled Conrad, recalling the day’s events. “You and me, C-man. We take care of our own.”

  “And what about this guy?” He hooked Max in a headlock, playing with the brawny bartender. “I knew he was one of our kind the minute I caught his scent.”

  The bartender broke free, sauntered over to pour three drinks and set them on the counter. “Here’s to the pack. Whoever’s pack it is.” Raising one of the drinks in a salute, he waited for them to join him. All three downed the booze in simultaneous gulps. “I haven’t had this much fun since I went hunter-hunting.”

  Devlin offered his hand in greeting. “Devlin Cannon of the Cannon Pack. And this ugly mutt is my best friend, Conrad Vilmar.”

  Max accepted the handshakes. “Max Branson. Swift Pack. Glad to be of service.” He quickly poured another round. “Should I pour one for the lady? Providing she wants one when she returns.”

  “Sure.” Devlin turned to check for Tala. “But where’d she go?”

  “She headed off toward the ladies’ room a minute ago.” Max jerked his head toward the neon sign over the adjacent hallway. “Is she a new convert?” He poured them all another drink. “I can smell shifter in her, but she hasn’t completed a total transformation yet, has she?”

  Devlin scanned the hall for Tala. Guess she needed some time to herself. After all, like the man said, she’s new. “Not all the way, but the full transformation won’t be much longer.” I wish she hadn’t gone in the same direction George had.

  The three let a comfortable silence envelop them. Each of the shifters lifted a glass, nodded at the other, and gulped down their drinks. Max left the bottle on the bar and moved off to serve another customer.

  Devlin poured another shot, swallowed it and cleared his throat, hoping to dislodge the growing knot of unease. “Thanks for standing by me, Conrad.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m always saving your sorry ass.” Conrad punched Devlin’s shoulder. “Now that includes your mate’s.”

  My mate. A nervous tingle ran down Devlin’s spine. He leveled his focus on the hallway again. “I don’t like this. Tala’s taking way too long in the restroom.”

  “Shit, Dev, you know females. They can spend hours primping.” Conrad shrugged and downed another drink. “But if you’re so worried, why don’t you—”

  Before Conrad could finish his sentence, Devlin strode over to the hallway and headed down the long dark hall. A flickering neon sign boasting the word Bitches hung lopsided over the ladies’ restroom door. Devlin tapped the shoulder of a young woman leaning on the wall next to the door. “Do me a favor, will you? Go inside and check on my girlfriend.”

  “In there?” The passion-pink-haired woman blinked at Devlin before shooting him a take-me-home-and-fuck-me smile.

  Ju
st how dumb is this female? Hiding the annoyance churning inside him, he returned her smile and kept his tone light. “Uh, yeah. In there. She went inside awhile ago and I’m worried about her. Maybe she fell in the toilet?” He chuckled through gritted teeth. Come on. Gather what few brains cells you have and think.

  As he’d half expected, his joke went straight over her head. “Really? You know what? My roommate, Missy, fell in the sink once.” Her smile grew in megawatts. “Hi, I’m Stacy.”

  Attention, World. Dumb and Dumber are roomies.

  “How does a person fall into a sink?” Conrad sidled up next to him and slapped him on the back. “Get sidelined, dude?”

  The girl flipped her hair over her shoulder and reached out to skim her fingers over his chest. “Missy and me went out partying and got like really drunk. So by the time we made it home, we had to like pee like really, really bad. And since I got dibs on the potty first, she decided to use the kitchen sink.”

  “Look, we don’t have time—”

  “Hush, Dev. The lady’s telling a story.”

  Stacy flashed Conrad a flirtatious smile. “Anyway, she got up on this like really, really tall stool and turned around. But when she tried to squat over the sink—you know, how girls squat over potties?—she lost her balance and fell in.” She ran both hands over Conrad’s shirt. “She bruised her butt up and made it like really, really purple.”

  Their joint laughter raked over Devlin’s last nerve. “Great story. Now can you check on my girlfriend?”

  “Oh, yeah. A woman was in there, but she left. With a man.” She batted her long fake eyelashes first at him, then back to Conrad. “I’ll take her place, if you want. With both of you.”

  He took her by the arms, none too gently. “Where’d she go?”

  “Shit! I don’t know. You’re hurting me!” She yelped, squirmed out of his hold and hurried down the hallway.

  A man? Had George taken Tala? Panic leapt through Devlin and he shoved through the door and into the dirty bathroom. Open doors showed three empty stalls.

  Checking under the other two closed doors, Devlin’s nerves prickled along the top of his skin. He rotated, checking to see if he’d missed anything in the tiny restroom. He clenched and unclenched his hands, matching the chant throbbing through his head. Tala’s in trouble. Tala’s in trouble.

  “Dude, take a look.”

  Devlin followed his friend’s gaze to an open window large enough for a person to crawl—or be dragged—through. He stared at the window, caught the scent of something sickeningly familiar and moved to the window sill to get a better view. Steeling himself, he ran his finger along a thin line of red on the bottom of the frame.

  Shit. No. Prepared for the worst, he sniffed the all too-familiar aroma. Damn.

  Conrad came up behind him. “Is it…?”

  “Yeah. It’s Tala’s blood.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tala’s world flipped upside down. Her head banged against the window frame of the bathroom. “Shit!” She shut her eyes against the pain stabbing from her head into her neck. A hand clamped around her throat, strangling the air from her and she froze, trying to regain her feet.

  “You’re gonna pay, you bitch.”

  George! Thank God he’s choking me so I don’t have to smell him. Snarling, she clasped her hands together and brought them up between his arms, breaking his hold on her. Surprise ripped the sneer from his face.

  Tala touched her head where blood had oozed from a gash across her already-healing forehead. “George, you should’ve gotten away while you had the chance.”

  Suddenly, a tremendous power rushed through her, allowing the animal lying dormant within her to awaken. Her wolf bristled, sharpening its claws to break free.

  George’s wide eyes told her the change she felt coursing through her body was a total transformation. Finally.

  The wolf roared alive in her, but this time she was ready. Instinctively, she directed the power, letting it ebb and flow through her veins. Forcing herself not to think, only to react, she waited for what would come.

  Bones grew, crunched, and bent as her body altered with the conversion. Pain burst throughout her body, but somehow she knew the change was worth it. Hair sprouted, not in small tufts, but all over her. With a small cry, George whirled and scrambled for the restroom door.

  A tingling sensation on her forehead made her reach for the wound again yet she no longer felt the gash. Instead, her fingers—claws!—skimmed over ridges forming her new brow, her alternate face. Fangs, glorious, long, razor-sharp fangs jutted out from her elongated jaw and she stretched a different grin, a wolfish grin. Her hair shortened, leaving fur in its place. She growled, enjoying the vibration the sound made in her throat.

  George yanked on the doorknob, but couldn’t get it open. His eyes, wide and round, shone with a wild madness borne of terror. “No! Stay away from me!”

  Heat inside her, glorious and untamed, burst into a full flame. With a snarl, she leapt for him, snagging his ankle and yanking him to her. She pounced on top of him. His scream sent chills over her, not from the horror of the sound but from the delight she experienced in hearing his cry.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed her image in the full-length mirror at the end of the room. Cocking her head, she stared at the sight.

  Wow. That’s me. Cool. Very cool. The golden wolf in the mirror lifted the corners of its mouth in a welcoming smile. She’d definitely shifted. And definitely all the way.

  Damn, if only Devlin were here to see this. To see me. She preened, proud of what she saw. Because I look good. Damn good. She winced at the state of her clothes. I shredded my clothes but it was worth it.

  With difficulty, she broke away from her reflection and dropped her head close to his cheek. A snarl, surprisingly vicious, snaked out of her and she blew her hot breath against his neck. She bit him, barely piercing his skin with the tips of her fangs, but it was enough to keep him yelling. Ecstasy raced through her at his scream. Until, that is, a warm wetness soaked her leg.

  “Oh, damn it all to hell and back, George,” she sneered and hopped off him. “Get yourself some Depends.” She didn’t know if he understood her mangled words, but it didn’t matter.

  A terrified George tried to scramble away, but she ignored his struggles. She hooked one long claw under his belt and lifted him, puckering her canine lips. “So? Whaddya think, George? I make one gorgeous wolfie, don’t I?”

  When he didn’t answer—unless the incoherent babble was an answer—she shook him a little. “As much as I’d love to stay like this…” Standing and taking him along with her, she glanced longingly at her new body, then shifted to human form in one quick continuous move. Wow, I’m catching on fast! “To think I actually felt sorry for you earlier.” She gave him another quick shake, just for good measure. “Come on.”

  Flinging the door open, she stalked out, almost knocking a pink-haired woman down in her haste. Ignoring the expletives the girl hurled at her, Tala dragged George toward the rear of the building. In quick order, she found the strippers’ changing room and pushed George inside.

  Several pairs of bored eyes fell on them. Although she held George two inches off the floor, no one questioned her. “I guess nothing much surprises you ladies any longer, huh?”

  A heavily rouged, bleached blonde rose from her stool in front of the large vanity mirror to stride over to them. Dark, seen-it-all eyes scanned them and she hoisted a tight-fitting bustier over ample breasts. “You got that right. I’m Maggie.” Maggie slipped her rhinestoned fingers under one of the slits in Tala’s shirt. “Interesting outfit you got there.”

  “Uh, it’s the new shredded look.” George squirmed in Tala’s hand, but couldn’t form words that made any sense. “I was wondering if you’d like to try out a new act tonight.” She tilted her head at him and added, “A comedy act.”

  A penciled-in eyebrow arched in response. “You talking about him?”

  “Hey, I know th
is guy.” A chubby brunette, who looked like she’d be more at home in a high school pep squad than in a strip joint, pointed at George. “He’s a real creep. Always treats us like dirt and doesn’t tip.”

  Tala clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Figures.” Would the young stripper help her? “Do you think you might have some clothes that would fit him?” The other strippers gathered around them.

  “You mean like stage clothes?”

  “Exactly. Like maybe a hot pink thong or something? Granted, he’ll stretch them out, but I’ll buy you new clothes. I promise. You see, George here wants to go on stage.” Shaking him elicited a small squeak. “Don’t you, George?”

  The ladies checked each other’s reactions before turning to dig into their personal stashes of costumes. Within minutes, Maggie handed Tala a large brassiere and thong panties. Another girl’s pink robe and feather boa completed the ensemble.

  Holding them up against George’s skin, Tala and nodded her approval. “Oh, my. Pink is your color, Georgie.”

  Tossing her captive to the floor, she turned away from the strippers, allowed her fangs to peek through her stretched lips and snarled her command. “Put them on. Now. You’ve got a show to do.”

  Although George was shaking badly, he managed to choke out a defiant response. “A-and if I d-don’t?”

  “Hey, he can talk, after all.” Maggie chuckled, egging the other women to throw barbs at George. “We’re waiting, Georgie.”

  Tala widened her lips more, adding a low growl for emphasis. George, horror paling his complexion, unbuttoned his shirt, then swapped it out for the big bra.

  “Keep going, George.” Tala crooked her finger at his slacks.

  “Yeah. Get the panties on. I paid good money for the lacy thong, but it’ll be worth it to see you in them.” The little brunette wiggled her rump, demonstrating how to shimmy into the thong.

  George, seeing Tala’s warning look, dropped his pants in a hurry, stripping his jockey shorts along with them. But Tala stopped him before he could take off his socks.