by Iona Strom
His harsh curse was lost on a brisk wind that shot through the alley as he peeled off his jacket. Taking a moment to stash the leather outerwear between two dumpsters, he was assaulted by the heavy stench of refuse choking the air. He was destined for a trip to the dry cleaners after he came back to retrieve his favorite coat.
Pulling his shirt off next, he tossed it on top and went for the laces on his Converse. Sevin’s sensitive ears perked-up as he caught multiple sets of shoes hitting pavement drawing near. There was no time to remove his shoes here.
Half-dressed, he bolted for the end of the alley, emerging onto a narrow, one-way street. The asphalt—cracked and rippled from neglect and lined with litter—didn’t appear to be a path widely traveled.
Unbuckling his belt and unfastening his loose jeans, he hooked his thumbs inside the waistband ready to shuck everything he was wearing from the waist down just as soon as he found the opportunity.
Passing two more alleys, he started to cut to the right, only to run into two of the pack that had broken off from the rest.
Fuck!
He had three at his back and two on his right. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to verify what his acute hearing told him.
Hanging a left was a bad choice, but the only option available.
It was a smart move on Micah’s part to split up his pack to cut off Sevin’s options and funnel him toward an area they frequented.
His lungs began to burn from the cold, the chilly night air turning his cheeks red as his legs pumped out one city block after another. The familiar cityscape of Midtown quickly gave way to the unfamiliar territory of Lower Manhattan. His neighborhood now at his back, fear coursed through his veins.
The flapping of tarps from multiple windows of a three-story structure under major renovation was like hands waving him toward a destination. Gunning for the safe haven where he could hide and finish stripping out of his clothes, Sevin paused only long enough to dive roll through a gaping hole where a window used to be.
Landing hard, he hadn’t counted on the construction debris littering the ground. Rolling over the mess, the flesh on his back suffered scrapes and scratches that made him wish for the leather jacket he had left back in that alley.
Kicking free of his boots, he dropped his pants and boxers, peeling his socks off as he went. Buck-assed-naked, he wheeled around toward a noise at his back as he shifted. Half expecting it to be Micah or one of his cronies, he was shocked to meet the eyes of a vagrant.
Too late to stop his change now, the human backed up and hit the wall, cursed, then took a long swig from his paper sack while keeping his bloodshot eyes locked on Sevin.
He was in no real danger of being found out. Who was gonna believe an intoxicated homeless guy?
Running through to the opposite side of the warehouse in wolf form, he found a door left ajar, probably the way the homeless man had entered. Pushing his muzzle out through the crack, he pulled in a lungful of night air.
The other shifters were close. His heightened sense of smell picking up their scents they were still in their human forms.
Good.
He now had the advantage. No way could they catch him as a wolf if they were going to have to run on two legs. By the time they shed their clothes to shift, he would be way out ahead of them. Planning to double back, he would reach Lu’s first.
The angel was going to roast his ass for leaving his apartment when he promised to remain indoors. He would gladly take the verbal lashing if he could just make it there.
His heart hammered as he nudged the door the rest of the way open. Bolting in the opposite direction as the scent coming off his enemies, adrenaline was the fuel his canine body needed to gain the distance between himself and his unwanted followers.
Keeping to the alleys as he headed back toward Midtown, he avoided as many humans as he could. A huge silver wolf running through the streets of New York City was about as obvious as a turd in a punch bowl. Having animal control alerted to his presence was a situation to be avoided.
In his haste, he bypassed the street where he needed to turn. Another opportunity presented itself as he came upon E. Broadway. Nowhere near as inconspicuous as a side alley, hopefully, much like crossing a stream of water, his scent would get lost in the profusion of smells of a bustling street.
Brushing past the population of pedestrians littering the sidewalk, he’d barely made the crosswalk sign in time before the light allowed for the cars to cross. Gasps and squeals followed in his wake as he made it to the other side and ducked into the first alley he came to.
Hauling ass through Seward Park, he would take a shortcut to Lu’s as the wind was not in his favor, blowing his scent southwest and directly into Lower Manhattan.
His breath sounded harsh to his own ears. His muscles felt as if he had been running for days, maybe years, but no matter how the chilly night air burned his lungs or the seesawing of the air passing in and out that rubbed his throat raw, he wasn’t going to slow for anything until he was stepping through Lu’s front door.
Bearing down on his next street crossing, Sevin honed in on all the traffic going by at the typical city crawl. The crosswalk sign on Grand Street was displaying the hand, so he’d have to weave his way between the bumpers, turning himself into his own personal Frogger game which sucked since he had never been very good at video games.
His only other option wasn’t up for debate. Shifting back into human form and streaking across the wide thoroughfare wouldn’t be nearly as exposing as Times Square, but the traffic on Grand getting a gander at his lily-white ass would cause more of an uproar than if he stayed in his furry form. Being cited with indecent exposure wasn’t something he wanted to happen… again.
Finding a break in the traffic, he lunged out into the street. Horns honked, a squeal of tires, and a few gasps from pedestrians later, he made it to the other side. Sticking to the alleys and narrow passages between buildings, he was relieved to see Delancey Street up ahead, but not relieved to see the traffic he was going to have to fight to get across.
He could do this.
Hunkering down, he stuck close to the exterior of a building nearest to the crosswalk, trying to make himself look smaller like a stray dog lost in the city. The traffic light was going to switch to red soon, stopping the endless flow of motorists, and that’s when he would make his move.
Glancing back, he sighted Micah and his minions running toward him down Norfolk. How the fuck they had already caught up to him was anybody’s guess.
So much for waiting on the damn light, he was going to have to go now to gain some ground between them. It was imperative he made it to the angel. If they caught up to him, he was as good as dead.
Turning back to face the onslaught of cars whizzing by, he faced possible death by vehicle but a certain death if those purebreds caught up to him. Decision made—he’d rather take his chances against the traffic than against five pure-blooded wolf-shifters hell-bent on having his ass for dinner.
Making the bold move, he rushed out into the street the moment a slight lull presented itself. The stiff breeze off a car that zoomed past ruffled the fur on his hindquarters, just missing him by an inch.
Stuck in between lanes, he had to pause. Horns blowing, his legs shook beneath him as cars passed in front and in back of him, his fur whipping around and pulling in all directions from the wake of the passing vehicles.
Holding his breath, he bolted across the remaining lane and into the median. Swallowing his heart, he looked back to see the purebreds hauling ass across the crosswalk toward him.
Facing front, traffic heading in the opposite direction was a steady stream with not much chance of an opening to cross. As soon as the next car passed, Sevin darted across all three lanes. His hind legs barely clearing the pavement before a delivery truck swooshed by.
Fuck!
He’d bought himself some distance, but not enough to make it to safety. He needed to get out of the area fast.
&n
bsp; Running in the opposite direction from Lu’s, he hightailed it down Norfolk on the opposite side, hoping to lose them when he crossed Rivington.
He made it about a block before Micah surprised him by popping out between two buildings, forcing him to turn left on Rivington and follow the street. The male was alone, so his pack of assholes must have split up.
Bursting out between two buildings, another of the pack fell in line behind the leader, then another. It was easier for him in wolf form to weave in and out of the pedestrians than it was for the males following behind him on two legs.
Crossing Essex Street, a narrow alley was his next turn. The brick of the walls brushed both sides of his coat as he raced between the two buildings.
Right or Left?
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Sevin: Mythical Ink Series (book 2)
Newsletter and Stalk the Authors
Iona Strom writes for readers who love hot, erotic romance featuring exotic alien males who believe human females are a delicacy to be devoured—over and over again.
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LS Anders is a spinner of tales and dirty of mind. Author of contemporary and paranormal romance, she decided to dip her toes in the world of sci-fi romance to bring you the naughtiest tales imaginable.
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