by Anya Breton
The Alpha's eyes narrowed. "You don't look the same. The woman last night was...well...hotter."
I shot him another, dirtier look. "Yeah, well, I clean up good. Now what the hell do you want, besides insulting me about my morning appearance?"
"You've got the same sparklin' personality and almost the same voice, I guess you're Laura Denham," he said derisively.
Almost the same voice? What was wrong with my voice?
I probably didn't want to know.
I remained quiet while chugging the soda. I needed two more of these and maybe a box of Nerds candy to be able to handle this guy this early. What time was it anyway?
My eyes drifted to the digital clock on my microwave. Eleven thirteen! I'd gotten less than four hours of sleep! Ooooh, this guy had better pay me for my time.
The Alpha eyed me carefully. "So...did...Michael do that to you?"
I couldn't help but laugh. Michael, the mailman, wouldn't have been able to bruise me, much less give me a single one of these wounds. Well, that wasn't completely true. My hand lifted to touch the back of my head where the little asshole had hit me when I was unconscious.
I didn't answer the Alpha's question until I'd finished my soda. "No," was my entirely verbose response.
The Alpha's half frowning face completed the look to a full frown. "You know why I'm here, don't you?"
Without moving more than my arm I aimed the empty can at the trash bin across the kitchen, took the shot and landed it. I could totally play for the WNBA...if I didn't suck at dribbling, jumping and running.
"I distinctly recall asking you that question twice, Alpha," I answered dryly.
The Alpha's frame drew up to his full height. I guessed it was somewhere north of six feet but not by much. If he meant to appear intimidating by doing that he was failing miserably. I'd killed five guys twice his size last night.
"Michael said you shot him six times," the Alpha said in a low pitch I suspected was meant to sound menacing.
"Did he?" I said over a yawn. "Did he show you the wounds?"
"He said you healed them."
A soft laugh escaped me. "Why would I do that?"
"He said it was so you could torture him again," he replied in a matter-of-fact voice.
"I see." I yawned again, unable to hold it back. "Then wouldn't he have had wounds to show for it?"
The dark look on the Alpha's face made me think he was finished playing with me. He pointed his index finger at me and shook it for emphasis. "You shot my wolf. You shot him after I told you that you didn't have permission to use force on him."
I cut him off before he could get to the threatening part of his righteous indignation. "Do you have any idea what your wolf was doing, Alpha?"
"My name is Dominick," he said stiffly. "I don't like anyone callin' me Alpha outside the pack, the Tribunal or Were business."
My right eyebrow arched. "This isn't Were business?"
"Well..." You're not Were, was what he left out.
"Michael has been doing dirty deeds for cheap." I eschewed using any name rather than call him Dominick. We didn't know each other well enough for that. "Did he tell you about that?"
"It doesn't matter what he's been doin'. You had no right to shoot one of mine," Dominick said in that same low pitch.
I shoved off the counter to give him the full force of my angry gaze. "Did he tell you that he lured five women out of bars? That he drugged them and brought them to the man he's been doing this dirty work for? Did he tell you they were being kept in cages in Jamaican Plain like dogs?"
The Alpha stared at me with a mixture of anger and confusion. Just as I'd thought. His wolf hadn't fessed up to jack shit. Michael was an idiot.
Unable to resist the urge, I shoved the metaphorical knife deeper. "I suppose he also neglected to tell you that this same man is keeping his sister hostage. You two must have some close relationship."
I turned on my bare heel to open the cabinet behind me. There had to be something sugary in here, maybe left over cereal or a snack cake. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a Yodel right about now.
"I don't torture information outta my wolves," Dominick said in that low voice I was assuming was his angry voice.
"Maybe you ought to if that is the kind of guy you claim," I replied dryly.
He switched back into his stiff tone. "Where in Jamaican Plain are these women?"
I glanced around the cabinet door at him. "Why?"
"Someone needs to get them out..."
"Already taken care of, doll." My little nicknames were almost always used derisively. I hope he picked up on that.
"I'm not your doll."
I smirked behind the relative cover of the cabinet door. Then I spotted an open box of Wheat Thins on the top shelf. Crap. Top shelf. Could I get it without splitting the Achilles' tendon again? Had four hours of healing been enough? I certainly hoped so.
Just in case, I lifted the weight off my wounded leg and used the good one to stretch up. My back and side protested. Right. I'd forgotten about the gun shot wounds and claw marks.
"Jesus Christ," Dominick exclaimed just before I heard his footsteps. "You're bleedin' right through your robe."
It was a thin green cotton robe that I'd tossed on to answer the door. But if he could see the blood through that, then it had already soaked through my tank top.
"What the hell happened?"
Apparently he'd used Were speed to get to me because one moment he'd been standing just inside the door and the next he was tugging my robe aside in the kitchen. I whirled as fast as my pained body could handle while trying to yank the fabric back from him but he was having none of it.
Dominick took hold of my tank top and wrenched it up. I reacted badly by gasping and punching him in the chin. Strange men could not lift my shirt, especially not when I wasn't wearing a bra.
His eyes met mine in surprise more than anything else. "I'm tryin' to help."
I lifted my chin defiantly. "Can you heal gunshot wounds?"
"No," he admitted.
"Then get your hands the hell off me," I said in my iciest of voices.
He stepped back like a good little dog. But I could tell by the darkening of his eyes that his anger had grown. I'd humiliated him just a little bit by refusing his help.
"Why didn't you go to the hospital?"
My head cocked at his snapped question. That wasn't the kind of question you got angry about unless you thought the person was behaving foolishly. Why was he worrying about me? I'd shot his wolf six times.
In any case, I had an answer for him, even if it was in the form of another question. "Do you go to the hospital when you get hurt?"
He half snorted the reply, "No."
"That would be why."
His eyes scanned the length of me. "What are you?"
"If I didn't answer you last night when I needed your permission, why the hell would I answer you today when I don't?"
"Because I came here to punish you for what you did to my wolf."
"Sweetheart, don't I look like I got punished enough for what your wolf has done?"
Dominick's eyebrows lifted incredulously. "Did Michael shoot you?"
I sighed and slumped back against the counter. This was going nowhere. I shoved my hand into the box of Wheat Thins, pulled a single cracker out and then popped it in my mouth. Crunching it as loudly as I could was a nice little distraction.
"Laura, did my wolf shoot you?"
My teeth grit. "You don't know me well enough to call me Laura."
"Did my wolf shoot you, sweetheart?"
The derisive response made me laugh. I couldn't gripe about it because it had been exactly what I'd done to him. "No, Michael didn't shoot me."
"Then how is this," he waved his hand in front of me, "punishment for what Michael has done?"
"Let's make a deal," I said after crunching through another cracker. "I tell you the story of what happened last night, minus a few details to keep my identity safe, and in
exchange, you leave my apartment and never come back. Deal?"
His jaw set tightly. I already knew the answer was no. Nonetheless he said, "I'm not makin' any deals with people that shoot my wolves six times."
I resisted the urge to exhale petulantly. "Then you need to leave because I have nothing else to say to you."
He looked torn between strangling me while screaming maniacally or leaving like I'd demanded. The Alpha's next bit of speech came out between tightly grit teeth. "You shot my wolf six times, once in the throat. He said he was near death."
"In my defense," I said while shoving my hand into the cracker box, "I warned him I would do it if he made a sound. He made a sound."
Even the Wheat Thins were running low. The cracker I'd just popped in my mouth was one of only four left. I hoped he'd leave soon.
"That's no defense," he growled.
I'd had enough of this. I smacked the empty box of crackers down on my counter. It gave off a pathetic thud that didn't so much as draw the Alpha's attention. Nonetheless I pushed off to stand upright again and fix him with a glare nearly identical to his own. "I'm not going to apologize for shooting your wolf six times. I wouldn't have apologized for it even if I hadn't found out what a fucking scum bag he is. So do whatever the hell you're going to do to me so that I can go lay back down because you are wasting my time."
Dominick stared at me in what I was assuming was fury. The corner of his jaw twitched, his nostrils flared and there were two deep lines in between his eyes. "I want answers!"
Unmoved by his shout I calmly replied with, "If you'd wanted answers you'd have taken the deal I offered you."
"You don't run this show!"
Oh, he had not just said that. I was getting furious now. "You are in my house. I do run this show. Now if you'd like to postpone this little impromptu, wholly invasive meeting and reschedule it for a neutral environment then we can talk about who is running things. But until that time, I will not suffer you appearing on the doorstep of my private residence to lord the threat of punishment over my head."
Apparently I'd stunned him into silence. I was at a loss for what I was supposed to do while he gawked at me like a guy that had never seen a girl before. Gods, I'd rather be sleeping right now.
He surprised me by saying, "You're right. I shouldn't have come here unless I planned to do somethin'. I should have called for a mediation instead."
Mediation. What a joke. Some of the factions attempted to play nice by setting up trials and mediations to handle issues between different groups. I wouldn't be joining in that crap because they'd ask far too many questions I'd be unable to answer.
Now that he was in a more reasonable mood I decided to attempt a little reason of my own. "Look, you need to know some of what happened last night. So how about we try this again? I'll tell you what I can if you'll go away and let me get some sleep."
"Fine," he answered tightly.
"I need to sit down or I'm going to pass out but I need a towel first so I don't bleed all over my sofa. I'll meet you in there," I gestured toward my small living room, "in a few minutes."
"Where are your towels?"
"I can handle..."
"Where are your towels?"
It was taking too much energy to argue with him. I needed that energy to heal myself. "Bathroom closet. First door on the right."
Dominick stalked across the linoleum to the broad space that was my living room, dining room and entryway. He disappeared into the bathroom while I shuffled painfully toward my comfy green sueded sofa. By the time I'd reached it he'd already spread two large beach towels for me. I lowered myself down, letting a relieved sigh exhale as my head fell back against the cushion.
I began my story by telling him I was taking part in an ongoing investigation and as such there were details I wasn't at liberty to discuss with him. I explained that Michael had been delivering items to the Dungeon that might be harmful and that it was in everyone's best interest these items not be used to their full potential. He listened while I told him how I'd tracked Michael down to a different bar last night after leaving the Alpha and how we'd mutually lured each other back to my second residence with the understanding that there would be sex. From there I explained everything up until killing Tracksuit exactly as it had happened.
Retelling the tale of my time in the pound-for-women was tricky because I expected the Alpha to believe me capable of killing someone from inside a cage without telling him exactly how I'd done it. He took me on faith until I got to the part about killing the first Rhino.
"A Rhino?" Dominick said with a skeptical crinkling of his brow. "You sure you're not mistaken about that?"
"Why would I be mistaken?" I asked in a benign voice.
He didn't see the trap he was walking into. "Well, I mean, it's a Rhino. Those guys are tough motherfuckers."
"They're also typically no smarter than your average three-year-old."
He continued as if I hadn't spoken, "And you're...just..."
"Just what?" I challenged him, ready to strike when he inevitably answered "just a woman". Ordinarily I wasn't much of a feminist but I was already in a shitty mood.
The Alpha shook his head. "I don't know. You won't tell me."
Nice save. I ignored him to finish my story, "So after I killed the Rhino, I unlocked the cages for the other women. There were five of them. Five women Michael had lured in there for this Chet guy. Five women who were probably going to get murdered. That blood would have been on your hands."
Dominick nodded grimly.
"So no, I'm definitely not going to apologize for shooting him six times. As far as I'm concerned, it was one bullet for each woman and an extra one for the welt he pounded into my head. And if I see him out cruising bars again I'm not going to heal the bullet wound to the larynx this time."
"Michael will be dealt with," Dominick responded gruffly. "You won't have to punish him."
"Your wolf's loyalty isn't with you, Alpha." Woops. I'd said it before remembering he didn't like being called that. Oh, well.
"I know," he agreed. "It is with that Chet guy that has his sister."
"Chet is dead," I said flatly. I'd taken the time to check the wallet before crawling into bed. I had definitely killed the shapeshifter named Chet.
Dominick's eyebrows lifted high on his tan forehead.
"Oh, you thought I looked like this after just one human and a Rhino? Nah, sweetheart, it takes a little more than that to get this girl down." I ignored the irritated flashing of his eyes at my derisive term of endearment to continue, "Chet is dead. But I'd stake my life on him just being a cog in a larger machine. If Michael's sister hasn't called him by now then she wasn't one of the five I freed last night. That means someone else, someone worse than Chet, is out there pulling the strings. And Michael's loyalty is probably the last thing you'll need to worry about when they find out it was one of his girls that freed everyone in their little pound-for-women."
"How will they find out it was one of his women? You took care of them all didn't you?"
Rather than admit I'd killed seven creatures, I said, "There was surveillance. I tried to shut it down, may have succeeded, but it was feeding to an off-sight location. Somewhere somebody has a recording of everything I did last night." That bothered me more than I was going to admit to him. I really didn't need there to be video evidence of the Black Death. Could I hope the footage would be too poor to make out who I was?
Dominick ran a hand through his mussed walnut hair while letting out a sigh. "I'm gonna help," he said a minute later.
"Help what?" I asked in a slow, wary voice.
"I'm gonna help you find out who Chet was workin' for," he said with a resolute stare aimed directly at my eyes. "That's what you're doin', isn't it?"
I couldn't deny that had been my plan. "I don't recall asking for your help."
He chuckled. "You don't have to ask, honey. I can see that you need it."
I resisted the urge to tell him exactly what
it took to get me into a state like this. But I needed some aces up my sleeve yet. For all I knew, he could be the one Chet had been working for. "I work alone."
"How cliché," he said with an actual roll of his eyes.
That should have been my line. Irritated I snapped, "Look, I don't know that Michael wasn't working for you. And there isn't a whole lot you can do to prove he wasn't. You are his Alpha after all."
"I don't kidnap women," the Alpha said in his low voice.
I waved a dismissive hand at him. "Yeah, well, you might have that nifty ability to sense a lie but unfortunately I don't."
"If it were me runnin' the show, don't you think I'd have killed you for what you did last night instead of offerin' help?"
"You have a point," I begrudgingly admitted. "But with my luck, no, you'd come here just to screw with me for a bit before you killed me."
He shook his head in disbelief. "And I thought I was paranoid."
"Well, I told you what I could," I said while painfully getting to my feet. "Time for you to mosey on down the road."
The Alpha stood but instead of head toward the door, he walked for me.
I pulled my head back and to the side to look at him suspiciously when his hands reached out for me. "What are you doing?"
"Helpin' you to bed," he said simply as if I were an idiot not to realize it.
I stared at him in silent irritation.
His hands dropped to his sides. "Right." And surprisingly he walked to the door, out it and closed it behind him without my having to fight him.
That had been far too easy. Nothing was ever that easy. Dominick the Alpha werewolf was going to come back to haunt me. I was certain of that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Clad in a nice knee-length black dress, one of many I owned for the symphony, I stepped through the doors of the steakhouse that was the unofficial stomping grounds for the area shapeshifters. The owner knew I was coming. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.
I'd gotten six more hours of sleep after the werewolf Alpha had left. It was enough to fully heal my heel and stop the bleeding from the gunshot wounds, but I still hurt and I was still bruised. I'd applied a healthy coating of make-up to hide my weakness.
