by Celia Kyle
“Here you go, Mister…” She looked at the card and gulped. Great, just what she needed. What the hell was one of them doing here? “Mr. Abrams.”
Their fingers brushed as she returned his card, his callused skin scraping the pads of her digits. A sliver of desire tinged with unease traveled down her spine. Her body reacted to him, to his touch, and she fought to tamp down her arousal. Yet her inner-animal wasn’t going to be denied. For some reason, she wanted him.
Even if he was a bear. Even if he was an Abrams. Even if he could blow her entire world to hell and back.
His gaze collided with hers, his eyes widening as his chest expanded, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath.
Oh, fuck.
He furrowed his brow and repeated the action, drawing in more air. Anxiety attacked her, worry and fear rising to overwhelm her with the emotions. Adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream, pounding out an uneven rhythm. She immediately snatched her hand back, breaking their connection, as she stepped away from the counter.
Silence stretched between them, the rumble of cars and the whir of the fan in the back coolers the only things that filled the air. His deep breathing continued and she prayed he wouldn’t be able to discern her scent, discover her true nature.
Lauren was one thing. The woman was human even if she was associated with the Grayslake clan. Besides, she hadn’t said anything about her animal. Sure, the kid knew, but who’d believe a six-year-old? She was safe. Fine. Perfect, even.
Until Keen Abrams walked into the station.
Hoping to rush him along, she cleared her throat and finally broke the quiet. “Have a nice day. Come again.”
Instead of walking away, he continued to stand there, tilting his head to the side as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle. Well, she was no man’s puzzle.
Trista tore her attention from him, lifted her wrist, and glanced at her watch. Five minutes left. Screw it. Good enough for government work.
“Right. See ya next time.” She gave a small wave and focused on the empty doorway in the back. “Yo, Jerry, I gotta go!”
It didn’t take long for him to poke his head out, a scowl on his face. “You’ve got five minutes left on the clock.”
“And I took a short lunch, so it evens out.” Pressing on the register drawer, she confirmed it was shut before hurrying toward the end of the counter and abandoning her post.
A grumbling Jerry trudged toward her and she ignored his glare, more intent on getting the fuck out rather than talking to her boss. Of course, Keen Abrams kept pace with her, matching her step for step, and she was never more thankful for the counter separating her from the customers. At least it kept some space between them. For now.
The moment she reached the end, she darted down a nearby aisle, racing for the safety of the back room. Hell, who was she kidding? Safety? She mentally shook her head. If he wanted to follow her, he would.
He lurked in her periphery and she increased her pace, heart beating faster and faster with each step. It didn’t matter that she was within her legal rights, it didn’t matter that the law was on her side when it came to her work and her residence. She knew if he wanted her gone, she’d be gone.
Like her mother.
Trista practically dove for the back door. Hell, she really did dive. She rushed forward and jumped through the doorway, grasping the edge of the panel and shoving it closed. Almost.
The slap of flesh on metal echoed through the small stock area, Keen’s hand stopping her bid for safety. “Hey, wait—”
“Sorry.” She pointed at the sign on the panel. “Employees only. Jerry can help you with what you need. Have a good day.” She pushed on the door and it didn’t budge, his strength keeping her from a clean escape.
“You’re—”
“Late for my other job.” The animal in her growled. It knew a bear stood before them, a powerful bear, and it didn’t like being in this position.
“You shouldn’t—”
“Really gotta go.” Adrenaline pumped through her veins, urging her to run, to hide, to be anywhere but Jerry’s Gas Station.
The shrill ring of a cell phone broke into their battle, dragging his attention from her enough for her to shove the door closed. Damn it, she wished she could throw the lock, but that’d piss Jerry off when he couldn’t get in. Hell, it might anger him enough to fire her.
Though, dead or fired, which was worse?
She wasn’t sure.
Keen’s muffled voice reached her. “Lauren? What’s up?”
Trista winced. Crap. He knew Lauren, which meant he’d soon know about her. Maybe he wouldn’t connect the dots. She snorted. Right. The bears were assholes, but they weren’t stupid.
“The laws of visitation?”
Yeah, she was so caught.
Trista ran into a bear cub who figured out what she was and then told Lauren and then Lauren told Keen while Keen had already scented her and… Bum, bum, buuummm… My life is over.
Not waiting for the bear to figure things out, she snatched her purse and strode to the back entrance. Apartment. Shower. Change. Left Bank.
Just because she was about to be run out of town—or worse—by the bears, didn’t mean she didn’t have to work.
A girl’s gotta eat.
* * *
Keen was tempted to shift and confirm what his nose told him. A hyena? In Redby? Nah, he couldn’t imagine Reid, the werewolf Alpha, allowing a hyena in wolf territory. And yet… He’d stood not five feet from the woman as she’d rung up his purchases. He’d had to fight past the stink of the gas station owner, but beneath the stench he’d found the sweet scent of the woman.
Then the battle began. The bear’s desire for her warred with the man’s objection to her species. The man eventually overruled the bear. For now.
His human half was ready to run her out of town. At least, until Lauren called, fussing at him for bolting before they could talk, and distracted him.
When Lauren went back to her old apartment to check on the new owner, she’d run into her friend Trista. Trista who’d almost been eaten by Parker when he’d sniffed her. Parker who assured his Aunt Lauren the woman smelled like the bad man who’d kidnapped him over six months ago.
Was that who he’d met? It seemed too coincidental. Did they really have a hyena living in Grayslake and working in Redby?
Actually, she worked in Boyne Falls at the Left Bank bar, too. That information cost him a hundred bucks and had him suffering through a conversation with Jerry.
Keen scented the air, drawing in the flavors of the parking lot and hunting up the identity of those inside the bar. The aromas of bears and wolves reached him, the flavors sinking into his lungs. None of the patrons were particularly strong, mostly regular members of the Grayslake clan and Redby pack. After purging Boyne Falls of all hyenas, wolves and bears took up residence. The fact that their clan and pack managed to mingle without bloodshed said a lot about Ty and Reid.
He also found Trista’s scent lurking beneath the surface of the others. A hyena in Boyne Falls. He breathed deeper, drawing in more; was she just a hyena though? Half maybe? But there was something else in there… Keen shook his head, unable to believe the balls on the woman.
He pushed away from his SUV and headed toward the front door. He and the woman had a bit of a reckoning coming. She needed to get gone. His brothers wouldn’t stand for her presence and he didn’t even want to think about how Reid would react.
Except his bear didn’t want her lush, curvaceous ass going anywhere other than his bed. Unlike nearly every other woman he’d come across, his animal wanted her writhing beneath him and screaming his name in pleasure. It had a singular focus: her. It roared and snarled, demanding he hunt her, find her, and claim her. No one else would ever place a hand on her skin.
Fucking crazy-assed bear.
He tugged on the door and strode through the portal. He stepped to the side, allowing others to come and go as he adjusted to the bar’s atmospher
e. Loud music assaulted his ears while the heavy scents of many bodies filled his nose. This was why he rarely went to places like this. It was hell on his senses.
Men and women packed the space, some settled at seats while a few were on an impromptu dance floor toward the center. His feet almost stuck to the concrete as he wove his way through the room, occasionally sliding when he stepped in a puddle of who the hell knew what. The smash and tinkle of glass breaking cut through the music but no one seemed to care. Okay then.
Left Bank looked to be about one step above a total dive and the only thing helping it cling to that dubious distinction stood behind the bar.
The place was dim, the lights shining on the bartenders, and there stood the reason Left Bank couldn’t be considered a total loss. Her hair shined in the low light, bringing out the different shades of brown. Hints of red glistened and caught the glow. It also highlighted the curves of her body, tracing each rise and fall of her form. Including her deep cleavage exposed by the V of her shirt. It clung to her chest, outlining her breasts, seeming to offer them up to whoever would accept the invitation.
It sure as hell wasn’t gonna be the guys drooling over her. And he wasn’t going to think about the fact that his bear was ready to destroy the next man who touched her.
At all.
Keen waded through the press of customers, ignoring the purrs and strokes from the women he bumped. Normally, his bear would take comfort and solace in the contact, but today it wanted to snarl at the females. Damn it, his world was whirling through the air and he wasn’t sure where he’d land.
He pushed between two large males, shoving one and then the other aside. The one on his left, a bear whose name he couldn’t remember, bared his human-shaped teeth. At least the man managed to keep his animal at bay. Otherwise, he’d have to haul him off to face Van.
Keen knew the laws; Van enforced them.
And that thought brought him back to what sent him tearing out of the clan den earlier in the day.
Keen knew the laws, but he no longer had the power to act. Not like he would have if he were still in the inner-circle. Which meant he could face Trista as a man free of obligation and that thought lifted him. If he found out she posed a threat to the clan or pack, he’d take her to Ty, but he doubted she was one to cause trouble. Ty would have heard about it by now if that was the case.
The wolf on his right curled his lip and he revealed a very non-human fang. Obviously the guy didn’t know who he was fighting with.
Leaning forward ever so slightly, and careful to keep his voice low, he spoke to the male. “You should think long and hard about your attitude.”
The wolf’s nostrils flared, chest expanding as he drew in a breath. His eyes widened and he stepped back, putting more distance between him and Keen.
Smart wolf.
Trista continued to walk past him, smiling at one customer or another as she slid drinks over the smooth surface and pocketed tips. That’s when he noticed the rest of her. While her top was snug and new, her jeans were frayed, ragged, and loose. From the waist up, she looked like any other laughing bartender. But waist down told a different story. She didn’t have a lot of money and had probably been nursing those pants along for months if not longer. The seams were white and there were several patches where the cotton was so thin, he could see the creaminess of her skin.
She had two jobs and lived in a dump like Lauren’s old apartment and she still had trouble with money.
The bear didn’t think she should have problems ever again since they’d take care of her.
He told his bear to fuck off. They were too screwed up to attach themselves to a woman. Females like Helena were one thing, but Trista seemed like she’d be a hell of a lot more.
His animal was good with that.
Raising his hand, he waved to get her attention. When her gaze finally landed on him, he didn’t miss the slight widening of her eyes or the way her chest rose and fell, straining her shirt. He recognized the beginnings of panic in her. It was the same reaction she had at the gas station.
She was like a scared rabbit, even if she was a hyena.
Trista remained frozen in place, the beer in her hand obviously forgotten. One second turned into two and still she didn’t budge. Finally, the gruff voice of another man got her moving.
“Trista!”
She jerked, spilling some of the brew, but managed to slide it onto the bar mostly full. The smile she flashed the customer was fake, her happiness obviously dimmed by his presence.
Just because she didn’t want to see him didn’t mean he’d leave.
She slowly made her way toward him, checking in with different patrons, filling a glass or mixing another drink before she moved on. The closer she came, the slower she moved, as if dragging her ass would make a difference. She’d soon learn it didn’t.
Finally she stood before him and he looked his fill. He traced her features with his gaze, noting her round face and the dimple that appeared when she smiled as well as the pale blue of her eyes. Combined with her beautiful body and her gorgeous hair… She took his breath away. Right then, right there, Keen couldn’t breathe.
“What can I get you?” The words were flat and without emotion, but he knew better. The vein along her throat pulsed and pushed against her skin, belying her indifference.
“Beer. Whatever you’ve got on tap.” He placed a twenty on the bar and slid it toward her. When she moved to take it, he grasped her hand and rubbed his thumb over her flesh. “And ten minutes of your time.”
“I’m working.” She snatched her hand back, taking the cash with her.
Keen kept his attention on her as she strode to the register and collected the change before turning and pulling his drink. In just over a minute, he had his beer and a handful of bills, but instead of taking it, he pushed the money back toward her.
Of course, she shook her head in denial. “No. Keep your money.”
“I’m tipping you.” He raised a single brow. “You’re so rich you’ll turn away that kind of tip?”
Red suffused her face and—after thinking through what he’d said—he prayed it was in anger and not embarrassment. The last thing he wanted to do was mock her. He… wanted to take care of her.
Even if it was wrong for him to have those desires. A bear and a hyena?
No.
Just no.
She moved to shove it back at him and once again he pushed it back. “Take it as a tip or I’m giving it to this guy.” He tilted it toward the bear beside him. He would have selected the wolf, but wolves were assholes and he wasn’t sure the guy would refuse the cash.
With another glare, she shoved it in her pocket and turned away as if he were already forgotten.
Nah, that wasn’t gonna happen.
“Ten minutes, Trista.” He raised his voice enough to be heard.
She spun on him, eyes shooting fire in his direction. She stomped back to him and leaned over the bar. At the same time she snatched his shirt, fisting the material and dragging him toward her.
She kept her voice low, hissing at him before spitting her words in a furious whisper. “You may have every woman in Grayslake sniffing after you and you may spend the night in their beds, but I’m not some bear whore you can buy, Keen Abrams.”
Damn his reputation, and damn him for letting it get out of control.
His heart squeezed and his dick went hard. He hurt for her even as he wanted her. Damn it. Based on the fierce reaction, he knew others had done the same except while he wanted to talk to her, they wanted something else.
The thought enraged his bear and the animal stretched his skin, pushing and shoving at his control until he thought he’d bust out his fur in the middle of the bar. Fuck. He breathed deeply, fighting the need to gag as the sour scents of the room filled his lungs. At least battling the urge to vomit distracted the bear from its desire to destroy the place.
Keen settled on his stool and resigned himself to watching her work. He glared
at one male after another, shifter or not, when they got too friendly with her. It didn’t take long for word to spread amongst the shifters in the building. The men went from leering to respectful in less than a half hour and it only took the humans a full hour to catch on. Trista still got her tips, still pulled drinks, but she didn’t get the fast grabs and tugs as the males tried to get real friendly.
He couldn’t understand why the bear wanted her so much, but while it remained steadfast in its desire for her, he’d humor the beast. The animal wanting to pounce on Trista was better than the animal wanting to gut the nearest shifter to prove his dominance.
Hour after hour passed, the men beside him ever changing, but he remained in place and kept his gaze on her. It was only a matter of time before she got off for the night and he’d be there. Ready to speak to her. Ready to find out the truth. Ready for… more?
Chapter Three
Trista stepped into Left Bank’s darkened parking lot. Several streetlights were out, broken by one drunk customer or another. Apparently it was fun to throw empty beer bottles at the lights. Right.
She waved goodbye to her boss, leaving him as he locked up, and headed toward the sidewalk. Two in the morning and she had a good forty-minute hike to her apartment.
She strode over the glass and rock-strewn asphalt, avoiding the deep cracks and several potholes that littered the area. At some point her boss needed to clean the place up, but his favorite word was “soon.”
Rolling her eyes, she hit the sidewalk and began her long trudge homeward. Thankfully she was allowed to wear black boots instead of the “fuck me” heels the waitresses wore.
Shoving her hands into jeans pockets, she refocused on her journey, careful to keep her attention on her surroundings. She’d been hounded by men during her walks in the past. Though they tended to find her difficult prey. It was hard to be scared when she was stronger than they were. She didn’t get fangs and claws, but she had the reflexes and strength. She’d left more than one guy whimpering in her wake.
