Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. “And the decorations?”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders, encased in the most laughable blue turtleneck with a matching belt. “It was no big deal.”

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, mesmerized by what he’d done. “Thank you.”

  “I figured you’d be tired and you have a lot on your plate with final rehearsals and all.”

  To her relief, his words held no innuendo about last night. But she felt like she needed to address it anyway. To clear the air.

  Looking down at her red heels, Cozy scrunched her eyes shut before taking a deep breath and looking up at Finn.

  She licked her lips nervously. “About last night, Finn—”

  He placed his fingers on her mouth momentarily and whispered, “Don’t, Cozy. Don’t explain. Just consider this my way of saying merry Christmas and I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused.”

  Then, pressing his lips to hers, Finn kissed her softly, sweetly, as though he were saying goodbye, just before he turned on his heel and walked toward the glass door and slipped out.

  And she found that hurt almost as much as him disappearing without a word.

  * * *

  Finn strode out to the Pacer at Nash and Calla’s ranch after picking up some dishes Winnie was borrowing and popped the door open, pulling it closed with an impatient yank.

  Everyone had gone off to have dinner at the diner in town and to prepare for the recital, leaving him to run the last minute errands Winnie had given him to accomplish. Thankfully, this was the last on the list—he needed to step it up if he was going to have enough time to change and get to the recital.

  Winnie had made it clear he could attend if he thought he could stand the heat the people in town would surely give him. But she’d emphasized, he couldn’t be late or he’d pay in the way of some heinous chore or another.

  The weather had begun to turn as the afternoon wore on, the skies darkening, the wind picking up steam, making him pick up his pace.

  As he jammed the key in the ignition, Jacques the GPS lit up. “Bonjour, Finn! You are looking quite dapper today! Are you ready for ze big Christmas pageant?”

  Nodding his head, he almost smiled. “You bet, buddy.” It was another chance to see Cozy.

  Pulling away from the ranch, Finn headed toward the parking lot of the Eiffel Tower so he could check in with Pembroke. He’d damn well better have something for him today.

  “What are your plans for ze holiday, Finn? Will you have ze turkey and ze stuffing with your family?” Jacques asked.

  There was that tightness in his chest again, choking him. “Not this year, Jacques. I’m a lone wolf this time.”

  “Tsk-tsk, mon ami. It is Christmas! You must spend it with the ones you love.”

  Pulling into the parking lot, he said, “Maybe next year, buddy. Catch ya in a few.”

  Last night with Cozy had been amazing, unreal, every last lonely night worth just that hour with her.

  He missed her like he’d miss an organ. He wanted to sit on the couch with her and watch a disaster flick—her favorite—huddled together with a bowl of buttery popcorn. He wanted to watch her fry chicken from the living room of the farm so he could sneak up behind her and brush his lips along the side of her silky neck.

  He wanted to take a long drive along the back roads skirting the farm and hold her hand while she sang some country tune he didn’t know the words to.

  He wanted to shower with her, talk to her about the mundane, like where they were going for dinner, the price of a dozen eggs, their lives together.

  This? This he didn’t want.

  Finn turned the car off and pushed the door open, heading for the bush alongside the enormous structure.

  Driving his hand into the thorny limbs, he fished around until he found the disposable cell stuck in the middle and strode back to the car, grateful it was deserted again today so no one else would mock his clothes.

  He popped the door to the Pacer back open and dialed Pembroke, praying he had more information. He was about as unprotected out here as a newborn kitten in a minefield.

  The moment Pembroke picked up, he yelled, “Banner’s down! Listen to me, buddy, you need to get Cozy the fuck out of there!”

  He’d never heard Pem so freaked before. “What the hell does she have to do with this?”

  “Get her out and ask questions later. Did you hear me? Banner’s down, but I got another one on his way. Get her out now, Donovan!”

  “Wait—Cozy’s on The List?”

  His mind began to race. How could she be on The List? She was a witch, sure, but she didn’t have the kind of powers required to get on a list like that of the Executioner’s.

  What the hell was going on?

  “We were fed false information. You weren’t the target after all, she was! Now, goddamn it, Finn, get her—”

  The phone went dead when it was snatched from his hand from behind and then he felt something hard and blunt pressed to his skull.

  “Drive or I kill you—no questions asked,” a gruff voice demanded.

  He did as he was told just as the first beads of sleet began to fall, tapping at the windshield like nails.

  Well, fuck.

  Chapter Eight

  “SO, HOW DO I look?” she asked Jorge from his vantage point on the chair in the ladies’ room at Hallow Moon.

  “Sad,” he said on a yawn, scratching at his headband of reindeer antlers with LED lights.

  Cozy pouted into the mirror, smoothing her hands over the figure-hugging red dress. “You don’t like the dress?” She thought it slimmed her too-wide hips, making her waist, in turn, look smaller.

  “Of course I like the dress. You’re gorge, mi amiga. I meant your eyes. No amount of glittery eye shadow and concealer can make up for the fact that you’re unhappy.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not unhappy, Jorge. It’s Christmas Eve. Who can be unhappy when Santa’s coming tonight?”

  “Right. Feliz Navidad and all that jazz. You need to resolve this issue between you and Finn, Cozy. No concealer can hide that.”

  She fought asking the burning question she’d pondered all day long as she and the seniors had run through their last dress rehearsal. All through the catastrophe that was Glenda-Jo and Roscoe fighting over who was more pitchy during “Angels We Have Heard On High”, she’d wondered if Jorge had found anything out about Finn’s prison stay.

  She’d also wondered what his kiss meant. It tasted of goodbye—it felt like goodbye, too, and she’d been wrestling the pain of that all day long.

  The only solace she took was the fact that Finn had a ways to go on his parole sentence. He couldn’t just up and leave Paris or he’d be in bigger trouble than he already was.

  But the solace was quickly replaced with disgust for herself and how she continued to mourn this man who apparently had no regrets—even if he’d kissed her like he had one or two of them. He joked and laughed like nothing had passed between them. Not to mention, he still offered no explanations.

  That he didn’t want to talk about their lovemaking made sense. He didn’t want to talk about anything, period.

  “I tried to talk to him earlier today about…you know, last night. He wanted nothing to do with any kind of conversation. Which shouldn’t surprise you because it doesn’t surprise me. So can we, just for tonight, let this go? I have some wily seniors and a council to please. I can’t let myself be distracted by Finn anymore. It’s over.”

  Over.

  It had been over for months, but why did it feel as fresh as if it were happening all over again?

  Taking a deep breath, she fluffed her hair and touched up her lipstick. Tonight was for the seniors and the elders of the council. She’d do well to focus on that.

  She turned to Jorge and bent at the knee to straighten his diaper—the one the seniors had lovingly made for him—and his green bow tie. “You look handsome tonight, mister.”

  Jor
ge groaned, using his hind leg to scratch at the diaper. “I look ridiculous, mija. It itches like the bites of a thousand fleas. And this conversation isn’t over. So go bury yourself in yet another project so you don’t have to actually deal with the real issue and I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

  Scooping him up, she barked a laugh. “Hah! I’m not falling for that. But just for tonight, I don’t want to reopen this wound, okay?” Cozy dropped a kiss on his cold nose.

  He swiped her cheek with his tongue. “Okay, Jefe. Let’s go listen to the melodic stirrings of cats being dipped in acid.”

  Setting him on the floor, she barked another laugh as they headed out into the center and toward the rec room.

  It still looked as beautiful as it had when she’d first seen what Finn had done, and that sharp pang in her heart still remained, but she’d vowed to plow through it and make tonight as special as she could for the seniors and their families.

  The crowd had begun to gather, taking their seats as she waved the seniors over to form a huddle with her. Their faces, peeking out from various costumes and beneath halos made of tinsel garland and wire, made her giggle.

  “You guys look amazing! Nice job, Flora and Glenda-Jo!”

  Clive blustered his discontent. “Damn material is itchy. How am I supposed to stand still up there when all I wanna do is scratch my—”

  Cozy whipped up a cautionary finger, silencing him and his latest complaint. “There will be no itching your bits, Clive Stillwell. The council will be here, not to mention your daughters and granddaughters. Just remember what I told you, okay?”

  He rolled his eyes, blowing away one of the ornaments surrounding his face. “Yeah, yeah. Find my center. Go to some crazy place or another in my mind until it’s over.”

  “Exactly,” she said on a giggle as she took in the entirety of his costume.

  Flora and Glenda-Jo had gone above and beyond the call of duty. They’d turned a pair of long johns into an almost masterpiece. The branches of the tree being the most creative, made of stuffed green fabric and cut into the shape of limbs then stuffed with cotton and attached all around the entire length of the underwear.

  Each time Clive lifted his arms, the branches below his armpits, also decorated with ornaments hand-knit by the knitting club, swayed. His headpiece, though, was the star attraction. Somehow, the women had fashioned a ski mask into the top of a Christmas tree, complete with a bow and a star that lit up right in the center of the puffy ribbon.

  Cozy stood on tiptoe and straightened the bow on his head. “You look amazing, Clive. Thanks for doing this with me,” she said, before dropping a kiss on his cheek.

  Clive’s wrinkled cheeks blushed. “Oh, you hush. I look ridiculous and you know it. But I’m glad you talked me into sign-ups for this disaster. It’s been one of the best holidays I’ve had in a long time, Cozy-Coo.”

  Cozy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Clive, and everyone else, too. It’s been an honor to work with all of you. I don’t know what I’ll do tomorrow when I wake up and don’t have seeing you guys to look forward to for rehearsals. Now all of you, gather ‘round for some last-minute reminders.”

  Wrapping her arms around Gus and Flora’s shoulders, she smiled at how adorable they were in their angel costumes made of old sheets.

  “You guys have worked so hard these past weeks. I’m so proud of you. Now, Clive, remember what I said, don’t linger too long after the first notes of the music or we won’t have time for Glenda-Jo’s big solo, okay? And remember, keep your chins up and project so the back of the rec room can hear you, okay?”

  Everyone nodded as they all put their hands together in the middle of the circle, and Gus yelled, “Goooo, Depends Patrol!”

  As the seniors headed off to their positions on the stage, she looked out over the crowd and saw the council of elders being led into the room. With the last of their guests finally seated, it was time to get this show on the road.

  Cozy briefly skimmed the audience, looking for Finn, then chastised herself.

  Focus on the seniors.

  Taking her place at the piano, she set Jorge in his bed on top of it and took her seat, preparing to strike up the first chords of “Do You Hear What I Hear?”, when Winnie skidded up to the bench and leaned down, whispering, “I can’t find Finn!”

  * * *

  The gunman forced him to pull into the senior center parking lot as ice pelted the windshield, creating a thick coating on the glass.

  With the barrel of the gun pointed at his head, Finn sat and waited in the oppressive silence until he finally asked, “What the hell are we doing here?”

  “Oh you’ll see.”

  Finn twitched, fighting the impulse to turn around. He sniffed the air, hoping against hope one of his most lacking skills in years past would somehow present itself now, when he needed it the most.

  As his nostrils flared, he ground his teeth. Damn. Nothing. He couldn’t tell by scent if the guy was human or paranormal. Not to mention, he couldn’t see who he was, either. The gunman wore a ski mask, covering his whole face.

  Finally, Finn asked, “Who are you?”

  The gunman pressed the gun harder into his skull. “Don’t fucking worry about who I am. Shut up until I tell you to talk.”

  “Finn! You made ze wrong turn to go to Winnie’s,” Jacques chirped. “You must turn around and leave ze parking lot! We must hurry so you can change or you will be late for the recital! You do not want to miss Cozy’s big debut with ze seniors, do you? It’s like missing opening night on ze Broadway!”

  The man squeezed his shoulder, digging his fingers into Finn’s flesh. “Shut that fucking thing off!” he ordered.

  “Relax, pal. I got it.” Finn reached forward as Jacques began to protest and flipped the GPS system to the off position.

  “So she is in there, huh?”

  Who was this guy? Was he the highest bidder for Cozy’s head?

  Finn played dumb. “Who’s in there?”

  “Don’t play stupid, asshole. The bitch that can stop time. You know, you’re girlfriend?”

  Finn’s eyes widened. Stop time? Cozy could stop time? Still, he played it cool even as his mind began to race. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Right. Whatever. Doesn’t matter, I’m about to get a two-fer here. That’s all that matters, and it’s gonna go nice and easy thanks to you.”

  “What’s going to go nice and easy?”

  The man rasped a sigh. “Stop pretending like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I’m gonna take you and your hot girlfriend out together. I get paid for two hits. Do you have any idea how much money I’m gonna make?”

  “Look, seeing as I’m dead in the water and you got me by the balls, why not tell me who this Executioner is. Call it my last wish.”

  The man nudged him again with the gun. “See? I knew you were playing stupid. I don’t know who the fucker is. Nobody does. He’s just some guy with a huge bank account who wants what you freaks have. I only know he pays and I like to hunt. But I like money even more. There’s a hefty price on her head. Yours? Not so much, but whatever. Cash is cash.”

  Finn’s eyes scanned the full parking lot, praying one of Pembroke’s men was going to come rappelling out of a tree at any second. But nothing, just the cheerful lights of the center barely visible right now due to the ice.

  “So what’s her price?”

  The man cackled. “Five mil. Not too shabby for one night’s work, huh?”

  Finn clenched his fists, suppressing the raging urge to reach behind him and rip this guy’s head off. “And mine?” he asked with a calm that even surprised him.

  “Three hundred G’s. But that’s chump change. The beauty of you is, not only are you a snitch who wants to fuck this hunt up for the rest of us, but you’re gonna lead me right to your hot girlfriend.”

  Finn barked a laugh, one he couldn’t help. “You’re delusional if you think she’s going to come
running into my arms. She’d rather set my balls on fire.”

  “Aw, did you two have a little lover’s quarrel? Pity. But no chick is coldhearted enough to let a dude die. So put your acting pants on, because we’re gonna call her up and you’re gonna beg her to save your life, and you’re gonna do it fast. Because if you don’t, I’ll blow this damn center for mothballs the hell up. So help me God, I’ll kill every last man, woman and child in there. They’re gonna wish they’d stayed the hell home tonight. Would suck to wipe out half the town on Christmas Eve, wouldn’t it?”

  Cold fear shot up Finn’s spine. Think. He needed to think.

  But there was no time for that when the guy behind him was shoving a phone under his nose with Cozy’s number already in place to dial.

  “Do it or I murder them all.”

  Finn pressed “send” on the phone, his heart stuck somewhere in his throat. But he had a plan.

  He just had to pray it went as well in execution as it did playing out in his mind.

  * * *

  Cozy whipped around at Winnie’s words. “What?”

  “I haven’t seen Finn since late this afternoon, Cozy. He was supposed to handle a list of chores I gave him and then meet us here at the center for the recital. I warned him not to be late or he’d pay by way of some ugly chores. Every single horrible thing I’ve given him to do up to this point, he’s done with a smile on his face. Now I can’t find him anywhere? That makes no sense to me. Look, I know what we’ve been told by Baba, though I found out something today that I was going to wait to tell you about until after the recital, but I think you should know now.”

  Alarm bells began to sound in her head as a cold chill swiftly followed. “Tell me what?”

  “I found out why Finn was in magic-abuse jail. He was in for robbery. He was part of a trio of hoodlums, two of whom they never caught, in some rich warlock’s house. He gave himself up. Just held out his wrists when the police arrived and said take me away.”

  Cozy’s eyes widened, her fists clenching. “He offered to go to magic-abuse jail?”