Running with the Pack: Cannon Pack, Book 3

by Beverly Rae

  “I happen to dine here often as well and I’ve never seen you.” He waved his hand around as though shooing a fly. “Which isn’t important. I’m telling you in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong here.”

  “Why the hell not? What sets me apart?”

  The corners of his mouth tipped upward. Lifting one hand, he called out, never taking his eyes off her. “Roland, come here.”

  The meek man she’d come to like and know as the manager and owner of the restaurant rushed to stand beside the rude man. “Yes, sir?”

  “I don’t want this woman dining in this establishment. Ever.” This time his voice was loud enough for the patrons in the remote accesses of the restaurant to hear.

  Warmth rushed up her neck and into her face. If he talked any louder, the people across the street would hear him. Instead of voicing her retort, however, she kept her calm appearance, preferring to enlist Mr. Richmand’s help instead of dealing with the insolent man on her own.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on, Mr. Richmand. This gentleman seems to have a problem with me and I don’t know why.” She gave the manager a big “we’re friends” smile and shared it with the other diners, sending them a clear message that she was the victim. “You know me. I’ve dined here lots of times. I’ve even brought my office personnel and celebrated promotions and the like.”

  Mr. Richmand, clearly unnerved by the man’s obvious hostility, attempted to plead her case. “Yes, it’s true. She’s a regular. Perhaps there’s something I could do to help?”

  “Most definitely, Roland.”

  She dared to relax a little. Finally, the man saw that he was in the wrong. “Oh, good. I’m glad to see you’ve changed—”

  “You can escort the lady out of my establishment.”

  “What? Wait. This is your establishment?” She looked to the manager, then back to the now not-so-handsome, ugly-because-he’s-an-asshole man. “Are you kidding me? You’re really throwing me out?” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out forced and tinny.

  “If you’re asking if I’m kidding, rest assured, I am not.” Mr. Rude scowled at her. “Roland, do as I instructed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Roland, a plea in his eyes, pointed at the entrance and reached to take her arm.

  Lauren jerked her arm away, her heart pounding. “I do not believe this.” She scoured the other patrons, hoping to find someone, anyone, to stand up for her. “This is so unfair. And possibly illegal.” She had to try one last attempt. “And what will you do if I refuse?” She lifted her chin, squeaked out a soft giggle and stood her ground. “Because I do refuse.”

  Mr. Rude’s eyes narrowed and his menacing smile grew. “You’ve got that all wrong, lady.” He inched closer and sniffed.

  Had he just sniffed her? Did he think she stank? She resisted the urge to lift her arm and check her armpit. No, she remembered putting on deodorant that morning. Besides, with the aroma of the food wafting through the restaurant, how could he tell? Owner or not, this guy was seriously messed up.

  “As the owner, I have the right to refuse service to anyone I don’t like.” He paused, then smirked. “And, Miss Whatever-Your-Name-Is—” his smile morphed into a sneer, “—I don’t like you.”

  Why didn’t he like her? Yet the question on her mind wasn’t the one that shot out of her mouth. “Is that so? Well, you lousy good-for-nothing jerk, I don’t particularly care for your company, either.”

  “Then you shouldn’t mind never coming again.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t think of anything harsh enough to say. At least nothing she could say with children present. Instead, she held her head high and glared back at him. “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  She had to do something, couldn’t let him get away with treating her badly. Glancing around, her gaze fell on the waitress carrying a tray. Not giving her time to change her mind, she took a tall glass from the tray and dumped it over his head. Chin up, she waited for his reaction. And got nothing. What was wrong with this man?

  “Are you finished acting like a child?”

  His calm demeanor made her want to slap him. Instead, with nothing more to say and no alternative left, Lauren whirled around and marched out of the restaurant. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly wiped them away. No way would she cry and give him the pleasure of watching her through the window. He’d see her cry, bastard that he was, and then he’d laugh his ass off. Her phone rang, startling her. She choked back a sob, straightened her back, and answered the call. “Y-yeah, this is Lauren.”

  “Hey, babe, are you all right?”

  Sheesh and she’d thought John was a jerk and a half. He was Prince Charming compared to Mr. Rude. “Uh-huh. I’m okay. What’s up?” Struggling to keep the tears out of her tone, she warned herself to shape up. She wouldn’t let some insignificant restaurant owner put her in a funk. After all, who was he to her? No one. Other than the sexiest man she’d ever seen. “Errr.”

  “Are you sure? You sound strange.”

  “Sorry. Ignore me. I’m having a tough day.” She started walking, putting distance between herself and her former favorite place for lunch. “What’s up?”

  “We’re going out again this week.”

  Lauren stopped to look at a clothing store’s display, out of the path of foot traffic. “Already? We don’t usually have hunts so close together.” Once a month was the regular schedule and never two nights in the same week.

  “I know, but some of the guys got to talking about last night and, since the hunt kind of got interrupted, we figured we’d go out again. You know, kind of a do-over.”

  Interrupted? She frowned, knowing she had been the interruption. Damn. She’d thought she’d have more time before having to come up with another way to botch the next hunt. “Crap.”

  “Does that mean you’re not up for it? I mean, we’ll understand if you want to bow out of this one.”

  She could hear it in his voice. He’d love it if she dropped out of the hunt. Maybe even out of the hunter group. Not that she could blame him. If she weren’t John’s girlfriend, the others would have never put up with her. On the surface, she was the most inept hunter they’d ever had. But that was part of her cover. In reality, she’d made a promise to herself. After watching the shifter she’d shot die a slow and painful death, she had to stay with the hunters and do anything she could to keep another werewolf from getting killed. That night had changed her forever and she couldn’t pretend the hunts didn’t exist. The memory blindsided her, rocking her on her feet.

  The night exhilarated her. For the first time, she worked her way to front and center with John, leading the group in the chase after the shifter. They cornered the she-wolf in a dead-end alley, and Lauren felt so alive, so afraid, so powerful. John nodded at her, then stepped behind her to give her the first shot. Even now she could feel the weight of her rifle against her shoulder, inhaling then holding her breath seconds before she squeezed the trigger. She rolled her shoulder at the retort of the gun. Other shots came a second after hers, yet she barely heard them. The werewolf jumped into the air, blood shooting out of her body, and Lauren gasped at the sight. The slap of the shifter’s body slamming to the pavement echoed in her ears.

  Sounds and smells around her drifted into a mixed haze. Unable to move, she allowed John to drag her toward the shifter, his congratulations assaulting her ears.

  And yet, although she’d pictured that moment in her head several times since joining the hunters, she was unprepared for the avalanche of emotions pummeling her. She knelt beside the shifter, saw the pain and fear in her eyes, heard the anguish in her voice and knew at that moment that she’d done a horrible thing. She’d killed a person, not an animal. Leaning over the dying shifter, she vowed to stop the atrocity from ever happening again.

  Lauren shook the visions from her mind, bringing her back to reality.

  “Lauren? Are you there? Lauren, answer me.”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” She
hated the idea of another hunt, but she had no choice. “Count me in.”

  The clawing at Daniel’s gut, the intensifying yearning he’d struggled with, didn’t lessen after Lauren’s departure. Even eating his favorite meal, then ordering a stiff drink, couldn’t shake the unsettling sensation. Lauren Kade. Her name fit her. Strong, to the point, yet alluring. Her name played like a melody inside his head, accompanying flashing images of her face, her heaving chest, her burning eyes. If she hadn’t been a hunter, if he hadn’t seen her cornering the wounded shifter, he might’ve given in to the urge to whisk her into the back office and tear off her clothes.

  Maybe he should take her as payback for the attack on Mysta. Daniel slugged back the last of his drink and groaned. Yeah, right. Like he could ever take a female by force. In his gut, he knew the real reason. Payback, his ass. He wanted her, plain and simple. Daniel hated it, but he had to admit that no other woman, shifter or human, had pulled at his lust the way this one had. At least not since Torrie.

  She’s a hunter.

  If he reminded himself often enough, would it finally sink in and rid him of these ridiculous ideas? Shoving the empty glass across the table, he phoned Tucker to check on the wounded werewolf. “How is she?”

  “Geez, man, didn’t we just talk?”

  “Tucker.” Daniel lowered his tone. “Humor me.”

  His friend’s sigh filled his ear. “She’s about the same. I guess she lost more blood than we originally thought. But she’s hanging in there. She was lucky it wasn’t a silver bullet.”

  “Is she awake and talking yet?” Although he was sure he already knew what she’d say, he needed to speak with her. She’d gotten cornered, then shot. Same old story. Yet for some reason, Daniel had to hear every detail about the hunt and especially about the lovely hunter. Something about the way the hunter had squatted next to the injured Mysta didn’t mesh with his image of a hunter ready to kill, but he couldn’t quite grasp the idea just out of reach. If that didn’t unnerve him enough, another question gnawed at him. If he saw her again, perhaps in a dark alley, what would he do? Hurt her or take her?

  Chapter Three

  “Damn, man, you are such a pussy.” Tucker snickered at Daniel.

  Daniel shoved against his friend’s shoulder on his way back to flop on the couch. “I’m telling you. This sucker hurts like hell.”

  Tucker flipped his white hair out of his eyes, chugged the last of his beer, then grabbed Daniel’s arm, tugging him to a standing position. “Come on, tough guy. I can’t take any more of your bitching. We’re off to the dentist.”

  “I don’t like dentists.” Daniel heard the whine in his tone and grimaced. He bet Tucker heard it, too. “Let’s give it a day or two. Maybe it’ll get better.”

  Tucker laughed and dragged him through the house, then out to the driveway. “Like I said, you’re a pussy. Besides, how would you know you don’t like dentists? You’ve never been to one.” Tucker pushed him toward the passenger side of his beloved Jaguar, then slid into the driver’s seat. “Look, man, it’s not all that bad. Once you’re pain-free, you’ll thank me.”

  “I seriously doubt that.” Daniel concentrated on the buildings and other cars, trying to keep his mind off his toothache and the stories he’d heard from werewolves who’d visited the dentist. “He’s at least one of us, right?”

  “Beats me.” Tucker rolled his lips under, a telltale sign that he was trying not to laugh. “I pulled the name out of the phone book.”

  Daniel’s rising panic zipped higher. “Are you crazy? A human dentist isn’t going to know what to do with my teeth. This is nuts. At least find one of the pack’s dentists.”

  “Unfortunately, the only one I know of is out of town. That leaves you in a bind, my friend. You can either suffer—which isn’t going to happen since I have to suffer with you—or you can suck it up and go to a human tooth doc. Quit worrying about it. He’ll probably think you’ve got big-ass teeth is all. But teeth are teeth, right?”

  An excruciating sting shot through the left side of Daniel’s mouth, making the entire side of his face throb. Tucker was right. He couldn’t take this any longer, even if it meant seeing a human dentist. He palmed his cheek and muttered, “Are we there yet?”

  Tucker swung his sleek black Jag into a parking lot in front of a modest one-story brick building. “Yep. We’re here.”

  The receptionist did a double-take when they walked in, then focused her amber-colored eyes on Tucker. A smile covered her average-looking face, framed by blue-streaked hair. “Yes? May I help you?”

  Daniel glanced at Tucker, who bestowed a large grin on the obviously attracted-to-Tucker girl. “Yeah. I’m in pain and I need to see the dentist. Now.”

  Her frown faltered a second before widening to match Tucker’s. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re hurting. However, since you’re not a patient of ours—”

  “How did you know that?”

  She hadn’t taken her werewolf-colored eyes off Tucker for one second. Twirling a blue strand of hair around her finger, she batted her eyelashes and centered her attention on the bigger shifter. “Trust me. I would’ve remembered him.” Her gaze darted to give Daniel a cursory glance. “Or you.”

  Tucker matched her, lust-filled gaze to lust-filled gaze. “Perhaps you could make an exception? My friend is a puss—uh, wimp—about pain and he’s driving me bonkers.” Tucker flashed a bright smile. “You know how it is, don’t you? I can tell by looking at you that you’re a sensitive person who feels other people’s pain. So, please, how about it? Give the guy a break?”

  “W-ell, I’d really like to help, but the doctor is booked for today. Perhaps we could get you in tomorrow morning? You’d come back with your friend, wouldn’t you?”

  Daniel fought against the urge to slam his fist on the counter and break up this instant love-fest. Not that he wasn’t used to this situation. Tucker often caught women’s interest because of his unusual coloring both in human and animal form. Most of the time, however, the women looked at Daniel, too. Together, he and Tucker made an impressive pair: one dark, the other light. “No, that won’t—”

  “Let me handle this, man.” Tucker leaned over, getting closer to the bewitched receptionist. “I love your eyes, darlin’. That’s a very unusual color for you. Am I right?”

  She tittered under his flattery. The large intake of breath, then sigh couldn’t enhance her flat bosom. “How sweet of you to notice. I, uh, like to wear different colored contacts. I mean, without color, the world would be so drab. Don’t you think?” She ran her hands over her hair.

  Tucker winked at her. “Oh, I do, I do. And what’s your name, darlin’?”

  “I’m Bobbie.” She pointed at the name plate pinned to her uniform. “Bobbie Williams.”

  Bobbie? Daniel squinted at the nameplate. Where had he heard that name before?

  “And tell me, Ms. Bobbie, why are you working behind a desk? A beauty like you should be on display at an art museum for everyone to enjoy.”

  Tucker had turned on the Rhett Butler charm. Not that it didn’t work most of the time. Knowing when to get out of the way, Daniel stood back and watched the pro at work. If anyone could change her mind, Tucker could.

  He would’ve laughed—if he didn’t hurt so much—at the way she waved her hand around, playing with her hair, smoothing her uniform, doing everything she could to wiggle her ring-less left finger at Tucker. Subtlety was definitely not her strong suit. “Can we get back to the reason we’re here?”

  Tucker shot him a look, then rolled his eyes at Bobbie. “Like I said, he’s such a lightweight.” He reached over the counter and took her hand. “Darlin’, I don’t suppose there’s any way possible to get him in to the dentist right now. I’d consider it a huge favor. One that I would love to repay.”

  With Tucker around, women didn’t need candy to get their sweet fix. Daniel plastered on a pitiful expression—which wasn’t hard to do since his tooth was killing him—and moaned.


  Bobbie’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Tucker. She tipped her head, glanced at the other clients waiting and whispered, “Let me see what I can do. The doctor and I are good friends, so maybe I can pull a string or two. Especially since I can see that he’s in awful distress.”

  “Oh, he’s definitely in distress. It’s a real emergency.” Tucker’s tone dripped molasses. “You, Bobbie Williams, are an angel residing on Earth.”

  She blushed and hurried out of her office area, then down the hall. “I’ll be right back. Now don’t you go anywhere, okay?”

  A few minutes later, Bobbie was back. Yet instead of returning to her chair, she rushed over to Tucker. If the woman had any bigger crush on the white-haired shifter, she’d drool on his shoes. With the barest of glances at Daniel, she announced her good news. “The doctor will see you now. Marla will show you the way.”

  “You, darlin’, are amazing. I’ll wait out here for you, man.” Tucker slipped her arm through his and led her around the counter to her chair. “Bobbie and I will use the time to get better acquainted.”

  Bobbie’s light laugh followed Daniel as he walked down the hallway toward the assistant motioning for him. He glanced in one of the cubicles and saw a young boy, earphones in his ears, rocking to music loud enough for others to hear. Once in the chair, Marla hooked a dental bib around his neck, patted him on the shoulder, then left him alone to wait for the dentist.

  Instruments neatly arranged on the tray didn’t do anything for his jittery nerves. “I hope this guy’s good and not some hack.”

  “Well, I can’t speak for this guy, whoever he is, but I think I’m pretty good at my job.” A stool squeaked behind him. “But seriously. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” Papers rustled. “You’re Mr. Cannon, right?”