Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  Calla nodded. Well, that would be it, then. She’d go home and all of this would be over.

  Ryder jammed his hands into his pockets. “Where’s home?”

  She told him.

  “And what do you do there?”

  “I’m a school teacher. I told you,” she said.

  “I don’t remember that,” he said.

  “Of course not.”

  He shook his head. “Man, I wish I would have had teachers that looked like you.”

  She blushed. He’d said it again, and it made her feel just as fluttery and unbalanced this time.

  “Ryder?” said Jasper. “You want to help me with the tent?”

  “Oh, sure,” said Ryder.

  Calla watched them tear down the tent and put it back inside its case. She helped them fold up the chairs and load them into Jasper’s trunk. She felt…

  Well, disappointed, if she was honest.

  She and Ryder had been talking about getting to know each other, and she wanted to do that. But she didn’t see how that would work if she went home. Would Ryder stay with the carnival? She assumed he would, and that would mean she wouldn’t see him again.

  For some reason, she really didn’t like that idea.

  “Look,” said Jasper, “I know that I technically kind of kidnapped you. But if there’s any way that I could convince you not to… you know, go to the authorities?”

  “What would you do if I said no?” she said. She half-hoped he’d keep her captive at the carnival, that she’d be forced to stay close to Ryder for longer.

  But Jasper’s shoulders just slumped. “I don’t know. I guess if I have to go to jail, it’s worth it for the sake of saving my brother.”

  She sighed. “I won’t get you in trouble,” she muttered.

  It really was all over. So quickly. One second, she’d been in Ryder’s arms, feeling cherished and adored, and the next minute, they were contemplating how she’d get home, and it was… over.

  Some part inside of her was screaming that she needed to do something about this, stop it, speak up. She couldn’t let Ryder go.

  But another part of her wondered if she had lost her mind. Truthfully, she knew next to nothing about this man. She found him attractive, and they had good sex, but that wasn’t something she could base turning her whole life apart for.

  Not that she was even considering turning her life inside out, because she wasn’t. Of course she wouldn’t do something like that. No, she’d go home, and she’d go back to watching Netflix and biding her time until the summer was over. And then she’d go back to work, every day teaching students about participles and poems and…

  Augh. She was being set free, so why did she feel like she was going back to jail?

  It didn’t take very long to pack up the entire campsite. Jasper’s car was full, and there were a few things in the back seat.

  They all gathered around the car.

  “You can sit up front,” said Ryder.

  “Oh,” she said, “that’s okay. I mean, you have longer legs, so you should—”

  “Nah,” said Ryder. “I’ll be fine.” He grinned at her.

  She felt like she was melting inside. And an ache took root inside her soul, an ache at the loss of him, so quickly after finding him in the first place. She struggled to think of something to say, but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound desperate.

  If he wanted her, he’d pursue her, wouldn’t he?

  He seemed fine with her going back to her life. If he wasn’t fine, he would have fought for her. She got into the front seat of the car.

  Ryder got into the back seat.

  She adjusted to make sure he had enough leg room.

  “That’s okay. I’ve got space,” said Ryder.

  Jasper got into the car, tugging closed the driver’s side door. “Is everyone settled? Got everything?”

  Calla peered out the window. “Yeah,” she murmured, even though she was fairly sure she was leaving her heart behind.

  “Get us out of here, bro,” said Ryder.

  Jasper pulled the car away.

  And no one spoke much after that. Jasper tried to engage Ryder in conversation a few times, asking him about what it had been like not to think he was human. Ryder responded, but only with the most basic of information. He didn’t seem to want to talk, and Jasper didn’t push it.

  As they drove, the sun sank down in the horizon, bathing the world in darkness. They drove on a narrow road in the woods, and, on either side, the trunks of the trees rose ghost-like in the light from the headlights.

  It was quiet inside the car and quiet outside.

  Calla felt tired and sad. She stared out the windshield and hoped the ride wouldn’t last forever.

  Abruptly, a man darted out in front of the car, illuminated in the headlights.

  Jasper yelled, slamming on the brakes.

  He barely got the car stopped in time.

  But the man standing in front of them didn’t even flinch. He stared at them with a savage look on his face, his teeth bared.

  “Enoch,” Ryder whispered.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Calla cowered in the front seat, but Ryder threw open the door behind her.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” said Jasper.

  Ryder was already getting out of the car and striding forward to meet the man he’d called Enoch. Jasper cast a glance at Calla, swore under his breath, and then unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here.” He got out of the car too.

  Calla could hear what they were saying, though it was muffled by the car, and she could see them illuminated in the headlights.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” said Ryder.

  “Leroy got in contact with me,” said Enoch. “Apparently, he needed some reinforcements.” Men appeared behind Enoch, pouring out of the woods. There were at least twenty of them, and they all looked burly and dangerous. Leroy was there as well, sneering.

  Calla cringed from him, even though she didn’t think he could see her through the shine of the headlights.

  Enoch surveyed Ryder. “Leroy told me that you were messed up in the head.”

  “He was,” protested Leroy.

  Enoch chuckled. “He pulled the wool over your eyes, Leroy.”

  “No,” said Leroy. “I swear, he wasn’t faking it.”

  Enoch folded his arms over his chest, eyes still on Ryder. “Don’t you know that if I couldn’t get payment or service from you, I’d just get it from your family?”

  “I don’t serve you,” said Ryder, nostrils flaring.

  “No one serves me,” said Enoch. “But you do owe service to the cause. Or else pay back our loan. That’s the deal, Ryder. One or the other. Money or time.”

  “And if I refuse?” said Ryder.

  “It’s only one night,” said Enoch. “One night of service to the cause or all that cash. Now, which seems better to you?”

  “I won’t help you kill innocents,” said Ryder. “I told you that when I left.”

  Enoch shook his head, making tsk-tsk noises. “That’s the wrong answer, Ryder. I don’t know why you’re being so difficult.” He leaned close. “None of them are innocents. I’ve explained this to you before.”

  “No.”

  Enoch shrugged. “Then pay me the money back.”

  “I can’t do that either.” Ryder lifted his chin.

  Jasper was standing behind his brother. Now, he put his hand on Ryder’s shoulder and started to say something.

  But Ryder shook him off. “What are you going to do about that?” he asked Enoch.

  Enoch glared at him.

  “You going to kill me?” said Ryder. “After everything you’ve said about the lives of wolves like us being sacred? About how we need to be here to carry on after the purge? About how it’s better for twenty humans to die than one true-born wolf?”

  “You betray your ancestry, though,” said Enoch.

  Ryder put his finger in Enoch’s face. “You’re a liar
that’s what you are.” He turned to the other men, who were gathered behind Enoch. “This man’s a liar. You all see it. If he kills me, you know he breaks his word.”

  Enoch looked uncomfortable.

  Calla held her breath. She wasn’t sure what Ryder was up to, but she was beginning to think that he knew what he was doing. What was he going to do?

  Ryder poked Enoch in the chest. “I’ve got a proposition for you. We’ve got a disagreement, so let’s settle this like wolves. One on one.”

  What? What did that mean? Calla twisted her hands together in her lap.

  “What do you mean?” said Enoch.

  “A duel,” said Ryder. “Both of us in wolf form. We fight until first blood.”

  Enoch pressed his lips together.

  “If I win,” said Ryder, “then you forgive my debt, and you leave me alone from now on. If you win, I’ll be in service to the cause like you want.”

  “No,” said Enoch. “That’s not enough. If I win, you pay me back my money and you march in service to the cause.”

  Ryder sucked in breath. He hesitated. Then, he nodded. “All right. Okay, I can do that.”

  Calla wasn’t sure if that was a great idea. What was this duel thing? And what would happen if Ryder lost? Was he so confident that he could take on Enoch? Enoch looked pretty intimidating. She chewed on her lip, feeling nervous.

  But—even though Ryder had said they’d be in wolf form—she was utterly surprised when the next thing happened.

  Both Ryder and Enoch tore off their clothes, and they shifted into wolves. It was quick and fluid, fur and claws and teeth taking over their features so fast that it was a blur. One minute men, the next minute wolves.

  Calla stiffened. She didn’t like werewolves. She didn’t like seeing them.

  And when the two wolves both began to snarl, all she could see was the red balloon, drifting off into the sky, farther and farther.

  No, she thought.

  But suddenly, she wasn’t even in that car anymore. In her mind’s eye, she was transported to a different day, one so many years ago…

  * * *

  “Don’t let go of the balloon, Calla,” her father told her when they got it from the balloon seller on the street.

  Calla remembered being mesmerized by the seller, who was walking around with a huge bunch of balloons—so many that she wondered how he was even still standing on the ground. Why didn’t the balloons lift him up into the air? She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, and her father had knelt down next to her and said, “Do you want a balloon?”

  Calla was four. She didn’t even understand—not really—that the balloons were for sale, or that she could have one. But the minute that the prospect occurred to her, she nodded vigorously.

  Her mother had been a bit annoyed, muttering how they were wasting time and they were going to be late.

  It was getting dark and the tall buildings in the city cast dark shadows over the street as the sun sank in the sky. Calla wasn’t even sure where they were going, but that was typical. She didn’t pay much attention to those kinds of things.

  Later, she would wish that she remembered. She had only a few clear memories of her parents, and she wished that she had more.

  Her father was adamant that she have the balloon, however. He said it would only take a minute, and so he went to the seller and paid him. And the seller took out a red balloon from amongst the bunch. He handed it to her father.

  Her father handed it to her. “Don’t let go of the balloon, Calla.”

  She clutched it tightly, terrified it would slip from her grasp.

  One hand held the balloon, the other her father’s hand. And they walked through the streets of the city as the sun drifted further and further below the horizon and the shadows grew deeper and deeper. But the streetlights kicked on, and they illuminated everything. Calla could look up and see her balloon, bright red and gleaming under the lights.

  Her mother was yammering on. “I swear to God, I don’t see why they insist on staying in the city. Everyone else has moved out to the suburbs. And especially now that they’ve got a baby on the way. What kind of life do they think that child’s going to have growing up with concrete?”

  Her father chuckled. “You’re not going to say that to them, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Her mother laughed too.

  Calla beamed up at them. She liked their laughter. They were her world, her shining stars, the two anchors on which she hung the universe.

  And they walked.

  They walked and walked, and it got darker and darker.

  Her mother stopped at the end of a sidewalk, furrowing her brow. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What?” said her father.

  Her mother pointed across the street. “It completely skips the number we’re looking for.”

  Her father furrowed his brow. “That can’t be right.”

  Her mother threw up her hands. “I knew that we should have taken a cab. They know where all the addresses are.”

  “No, it’s got to be…” Her father trailed off.

  Calla looked up at her balloon, feeling anxious. She didn’t like it when her parents were worried. It messed up the entire universe. She twisted on her feet, chewing on her lip, and watching the red balloon.

  Movement caught her eye, and she turned. There was a man coming up the alleyway. There was something wrong with him. Calla could see that, but she didn’t know what it was.

  The man was stumbling, and his eyes were bulging.

  “Daddy,” she whispered.

  “Calla, sweetie, I’m talking to Mommy,” he said.

  She tugged at the end of his shirt. “There’s a man, Daddy.”

  The man clutched the wall, as if he wasn’t able to stand upright. His face was agonized.

  “He’s sick,” said Calla.

  “One second, sweetie,” said her dad.

  And then the man doubled over and let out a horrific shriek.

  That got her parents attention. They both turned to look at the man.

  The man threw his head back and…

  His skin ripped.

  Something was inside him. Something furry. It was tearing away the man, like a chicken pushing its way out of an egg—a fearsome birth that destroyed.

  Calla backed up, reaching blindly for one of her parents, unable to take her eyes off of the man.

  Her father snatched her by the shoulder and shoved her behind him.

  Then she couldn’t see. She could hear more ripping, more screaming…

  She looked up at her red balloon.

  Don’t let go of the balloon.

  She clutched it.

  “Alan, we need to go,” said her mother, her voice panicked.

  “Go where?” said her father. “If we run, it will chase us. It’s instinctive for animals like that. They think we’re prey.”

  Animal? What animal? Calla peered around her father’s legs to see that there was no longer a man standing there. Instead, there was a large, furry wolf. There were pieces of skin and gobs of gore scattered all around it, lying on the ground. The wolf was baring its teeth, wrinkling up its muzzle.

  “We have to go,” said her mother, grabbing Calla’s hand and dragging her down the street.

  “No, Beverly, wait,” said her father.

  But the wolf bounded forward, after them, and Calla could see it as she and her mother ran.

  The wolf tackled her father, knocked him down on his back just like that. And Calla had always thought her father was so strong. She hadn’t thought that anything could hurt him.

  “Get Calla out of here!” her father was screaming. “Go, Beverly.”

  But her mother had stopped moving. Her mother was rooted to the spot, watching the wolf and her father.

  The wolf snarled in her father’s face.

  “Stop!” Calla’s mother hurled her purse at the wolf.

  It hit it right in the face, and the wolf turned its snarl on her mothe
r.

  Her mother shrieked.

  Calla looked up at her balloon. She was terrified, but she didn’t know what to do.

  Don’t let go of the balloon.

  The wolf bounded off of her father and onto her mother.

  Her mother was sobbing, scrambling on the pavement under the wolf, trying to get away, to get up.

  Her father staggered to his feet. He was bleeding.

  Calla didn’t know what to do.

  Don’t let go of the balloon.

  But she did. The balloon slipped out of her fingers and went up into the sky, past the streetlights, past the stars, far, far away…

  And when she looked back, after watching the balloon’s ascent, it was over.

  Neither of her parents was moving.

  * * *

  The wolves circled each other, both growling.

  Calla felt frozen in terror. She understood it now—more than she had quite understood it before. Ryder was a werewolf. He was like that savage creature that had ripped her parents to shreds that night. He turned into this beast, the thing that was right in front of her.

  It really was all over, whatever had been between them. She couldn’t be with a man who wasn’t really a man. She couldn’t be with a monster. She watched the wolf that had been Ryder, its muscles moving beneath its pelt as it circled the other wolf. Ryder was a predator. She could see the way that he was sizing up his opponent. He was ferocious.

  But she thought of the tender way that he had touched her, the reverence of his fingers gliding over her skin…

  Enoch lunged.

  Calla cried out.

  But Ryder backed away, avoiding the attack.

  Despite everything, she wanted him to win. She didn’t want to be at the mercy of this Enoch person, who sounded cruel and horrible. Ryder was at least better than that man, she had to admit. Maybe they could never be together, but that didn’t mean that she wished him harm.

  No, she hoped that Ryder won this fight. She hoped it with every fiber of her being.

  Ryder swiped at Enoch with one of his paws. He connected, knocking the other wolf off balance.

  But Enoch just shook it off. He leaped on top of Ryder.

  Both wolves went down in a tangle of limbs and claws. There was a whimpering noise and a growling noise, but Calla couldn’t tell who was making which.