by Beverly Rae
Like she did nothing but sit at her computer and watch funny videos on the Internet. Lauren started to tell him what had happened with Daniel Cannon, then thought better of it. He didn’t have to know about her loss of self-control, or how she’d tried—and failed—to keep her thoughts off the ultra-sexy shifter for the rest of the day. She’d even called one of her male clients “Daniel” twice before Marla finally whispered, pointing out her error. “Oh, nothing special. The same old thing.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. How can your day have gone that badly when it’s always the same each day?”
“Never mind.” Lauren wasn’t about to explain. What did it matter now anyway? She was fortunate that Bobbie and Daniel’s friend were the only ones who’d witnessed her crazy sexual play with Mr. C. “John, have you ever met anyone named Cannon?”
John abruptly turned on her, his face scary in its intensity. “Where did you hear that name?” He took her arm, scaring her even more. “Tell me.”
Lauren broke his hold and rubbed the fingerprints he’d left. “What the hell, John? What’s with you?”
“Tell me where you heard that name.”
“I have a new patient named Cannon and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d heard the name before. Not that it’s an unusual name or anything. Why are you acting so strange?” Had she said too much? No way would she tell him that her new patient was a shifter. Hell, she wished she’d kept quiet now.
“Is your patient a werewolf?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “No. Of course not. Why?”
John’s relief was evident in the tension flowing out of his body. “Good. There’s a large shifter pack with alphas named Cannon. You’ve probably heard me mention them before.”
Crap. Now she remembered where she’d heard the name. “Wow. Alphas, huh? More than one?”
“Yeah. Word has it that three brothers run the pack.” John shrugged off his brusque attitude and returned to his normal demeanor, reassured that her patient wasn’t a shifter. “So, you got a new victim, huh? Business must be good.” John chuckled. “I don’t know how you could do that.”
She tensed. Had someone other than Bobbie and Tucker seen them and told John? “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything—” She snapped her mouth closed, keeping “wrong” locked inside. Playing tongue-tag with another man was wrong. But playing Show and Feel with a werewolf was the ultimate betrayal to a hunter. Although she planned on dumping John, she had to keep playing the part of the faithful girlfriend for as long as she could. How else could she repay her debt to the werewolf she’d killed? “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about poking into people’s mouths and messing with their teeth. Sheesh. I don’t know how you do it. It’s disgusting.”
Relief washed over her, making her miss her footing. She fell into step behind him along with the other hunters and tried not to take what he’d said as a dig.
John held up his fist, signaling a full stop. He glanced around, his eyes scanning the dark alley. Throwing them a wicked grin, he put a finger to his lips and motioned for them to follow him.
Lauren dropped to the back of the group and switched her gun’s safety to the off position. If she had to, she could cause a diversion from the rear easier than in the front of the group. Halfway through the alley, John went down on one knee, waited for them to do the same, then pointed to a dark corner where one building met another. She squinted into the blackness and hoped she wouldn’t see what she feared most.
A small werewolf bent over the prone body of a homeless man. The man, wearing rags and shoes with holes in the bottoms, was either asleep or unconscious. His hand, however, firmly clutched an empty whiskey bottle.
The poor man had no idea that a werewolf stood over him. Could she wake the man up without scaring the werewolf into biting him? If so, would John and the other hunters hold their fire to keep from hitting the man? Inching forward, she touched John’s shoulder to warn him against shooting while an innocent human was in the line of fire, but she was too late. A shot blasted the silence apart, jolting her and sending her stumbling to the side.
The werewolf’s screech of pain echoed around the alley. Wounded, the shifter landed on its feet but couldn’t stand. Blood ran down its hind leg. The werewolf tried to stumble away, but lost its footing and slumped to the ground.
“Gah! What the fuck is this? Help! Someone get this thing away from me!” The man dropped his bottle to scuttle away from the growling creature. The other men rushed to John, cheering and slapping him on the back. Two hunters helped the man to his feet and retrieved his bottle, then led him down the alley toward the street. Pointing his rifle at the snarling werewolf, John stood back, his chest out and pride oozing from him. “Say nighty-night, shifter.”
Lauren slowly regained her feet, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Why couldn’t she have acted faster? Disappointment mingled with guilt, tearing a hole in her stomach. But now was not the time to wallow in her feelings. She gritted her teeth and took a few steps toward the sickening scene and the great white hunter holding court over his doting subjects.
“Wait! Don’t shoot!”
John and the others pivoted to her without placing their backs to the werewolf. “What, Lauren?” His eyes flashed above his gleeful grin.
She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to slap the stupid smile off his face. “You promised me I could shoot first.” Why hadn’t she remembered to say that earlier? Had their discussion about Cannon thrown her off? But maybe she wasn’t too late.
“I did? I don’t remember that.” John’s brow knitted and she prayed he’d taken his dumb pill today. He wasn’t the brightest man on the block and she could usually convince him to do what she wanted without him knowing she’d bamboozled him.
“Yeah, you did. Granted, you were drunk.” She got the expected snickers from the group. “But a promise is a promise. And now you go and blow it.”
“Seriously, babe, I don’t think—”
“You don’t think and I don’t care, John. Just answer the question. Are you going to give me what I want or not?” She pouted in the way John couldn’t resist.
Hoots and laughter surrounded her. “Yeah, John-boy. Give her what she wants or one of us might have to give it to her.” John punched the loudmouthed hunter in the arm.
She strode to the group and positioned her body between John and the werewolf. “So the way I see it, you owe me the kill.” She turned to face the werewolf and widened her eyes, hoping to alert him to her plan. “Let me be the one to put him down.”
She watched the battle in John’s eyes and knew how much he wanted to kill the shifter. But, with the heckling of the others, he had little choice but to give in.
“Fine. Just make it quick.”
She blew him a kiss along with a sexy smile and waved everyone back. “You guys might want to step away. Uh, you know. I’m not that good a shot.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
“Back up, dudes. You never know where her bullet will go.”
At least her bumbling hunter act was still holding up. She almost shook her head in disbelief. Almost a year and they still hadn’t caught on? Wow.
She stepped closer to the bleeding wolf. If he was as intelligent as she thought werewolves were, he’d catch on. At last his gaze met hers and she gave him a huge no-way-can-you-miss-this-signal wink. He blinked, then tilted his head. She wasn’t sure he understood what she was about to do, but he knew she was up to something. She aimed a couple of inches above him, allowing for the discharge from the rifle to miss him.
Get ready, wolf. Taking a breath, she squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out and, after only a moment’s hesitation, the werewolf yelped, jerked, then fell silent. Taking the dirty blanket the homeless man had used, she flung it over the body of the werewolf in feigned disgust. “Good riddance.”
The hunters shouted and John lifted her to twirl her around. “You did it. You finally ki
lled one.”
“Finally? But I killed the female. Remember?”
“Oh, sure. Yeah. I forgot. Never mind.” John released her and turned to his men. “Grab the carcass for Lauren, men.”
“No!” Her shout stunned them into inaction, giving her a moment to think. “Uh, I mean, it’s my kill, right? Then I decide what to do with the hide. And I’ve decided that I want to leave it right where it is.”
“But why waste a hide you could hang on your wall?”
Lauren took John by the arm and led him away from the werewolf. “You know I don’t like trophies on my walls. Besides, it’s a scrawny thing.” She adopted an evil expression. “And I want it to stay here. I want to imagine the rats having a feast. I think that’s the best way to dispose of a vile creature like that. It’s my kill, my decision, right?”
“Whatever you say, Lauren. I’m just so damn proud of you. Men, group together.”
Lauren swallowed the bile in her throat and returned his hug but didn’t follow the others as they circled around John. Instead, she paced over to the werewolf, then bent down and lifted a corner of the blanket, pretending to examine the head. “Stay still until we leave. If I can, I’ll come back to help you,” she whispered. She would’ve sworn the shifter’s lips pulled back into a smile.
She turned to face the group and a movement above her brought her to a standstill. The beautiful black werewolf who’d escaped with the injured female werewolf crouched on the roof above her, his lips curled back to expose deadly fangs. She took a moment to appreciate his magnificent body, then abruptly dropped her eyes. If she drew attention to him, John would start the hunt again, thrilled by the chance to bag two in one night. The magnetic pull emanating from the mystical animal, however, drew her attention back, holding her spellbound. His eyes, brilliant amber, glowed against his black face and the dark night around him.
Lauren couldn’t help but study him. His body was all muscles and packed action. This creature, this regal being, was more a true hunter than John could ever be. The werewolf tilted his head, reminding her of someone else. Suddenly, realization struck her, dazing her. It’s Daniel. She smiled, a little embarrassed not to have made the connection before. She should have known. In either form, he had the same intensity, the same sexual pull, the same overpowering presence. She frowned. The same accusatory expression? But why was his fury focused on her and not the others? Shit, he doesn’t understand. He thinks I’m with them.
Panic rolled through Lauren. She had to do something before John and the others noticed him. In the end, however, it was Daniel who drew their attention.
The werewolf on the roof turned toward the hunters and widened his snarl. A spine-tingling growl floated down to the hunters, and he crouched as though ready to attack.
Praying her idea would work, Lauren lifted her rifle, aimed and pulled the trigger.
Chapter Four
Daniel crouched, his body tightening but he ignored his first instinct to jump. The shot had come not from the hunters he faced, but from Lauren. Pain ripped through him, but it wasn’t the pain from a gunshot wound. She’d shot at him and missed. This ache, however, was a different kind than that of any injury. This was a hurt of betrayal and disappointment. Granted, they weren’t the best of friends to say the least, but he’d assumed they’d called an undeclared truce after their lip-lock. Or was that wishful thinking on his part? He scowled at her and sent a silent question. “Why?”
She opened her mouth as though to answer, then slammed it shut again. He gawked at her, the indecipherable glint in her eye drawing him in until, without warning, she raised her gun and pointed it at him—again. Growling, he didn’t give her time to shoot and whirled away, rushing over the top of the building as several shots rang out.
He ran hard, outdistancing the hunters but unable to leave his own confused thoughts behind. The damned woman had tried to kill him. But why the hell would she help him with his toothache and get him hot and bothered, only to turn around and try to kill him? She’d known what he was and hadn’t seemed to mind then. One minute she was sitting on top of him, her body pressed against his, and the next, she was trying to plug him full of holes. Were all human females so unpredictable?
Daniel slowed, morphing as he continued to trot toward his clothes hidden behind the Dumpster. Lauren, her back arched, her breasts thrust against his face, came front and center, blocking out the scene in the alley. He could still smell her scent: a light mixture of fragrances accented with lavender. He dragged in a long breath, remembering how his cock had come to full attention when she’d climbed on top of him. She’d rubbed against him, her heat matching the fire between his legs. His fingers had explored her cave, the grip of her walls, and he’d almost exploded with his lust. If he’d had more time, just a few minutes longer, he’d have slammed into her, bucking upward into her dripping snatch.
Yet, unlike the other women he’d had sex with since Torrie’s death, he couldn’t force Lauren from his mind. Instead, thoughts of her had invaded him often since their brief moment together, tearing at him, making him swell with desire. He’d gotten a taste of her, and now he wanted the full-course meal. He yearned to savor the silkiness of her skin, feel her pliant bottom in his hands again.
She’s a hunter.
The admonition he’d tried so many times fell flat yet again. Somehow, her being a hunter hadn’t deterred him from thinking about her, dreaming about her, wanting her. At least, not until now. She’d gone too far tonight, helping to kill a member of his pack, then shooting at him. A whimper filled his throat, but he forced it down.
Tyler was gone. Killed when he’d only wanted to help the homeless human. Tyler, whose heart was as big as the sky, lay dead in that alley. Daniel could almost see the hunters using his friend’s lifeless body in a tug-of-war game, vying to take his pelt home and mount it on their wall. And Lauren was part of their group.
Daniel leaned against the dirty brick wall and hung his head. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have let Tyler go into that alley alone. He should’ve ordered him to stop. But how could he have known the hunters would come out again tonight? They never went on hunts this close together.
He ground his teeth against the churning in his gut, dressed quickly, and decided it was time to take action. Instead of doing what the pack had always done—staying one step ahead of the hunters, hiding in the dark, avoiding confrontation whenever possible—the shifters needed to take a stand. The hunters would become the hunted.
Lauren’s face, her brow furrowed, her eyes searching his, came to him, and the ache in his chest intensified. Snarling his determination, he shook as though physically ridding his body of her, freeing his mind of her face. He no longer had time for ridiculous yearnings. He had to act.
“I don’t know why we didn’t do this before now, Daniel.” Tucker lifted his nose to sniff. Even in human form, their sense of smell was better than other humans.
“Shifters have always taken a defensive stance when it comes to hunters. For decades, we’ve countered their deliberate attempts to harm us with a peaceful, fight-only-when-forced-to-fight position. But those days are gone. We’ve lost too many good people.” Good people like his Torrie and Tyler. Daniel breathed the dank air into his nostrils and attempted to separate the myriad of scents hanging over the human city into separate definable aromas. He closed his eyes and concentrated, refusing to give up after two hours of hunting. “Stay human until I tell you to change.” Although they couldn’t move as quickly and were less able to defend themselves, they also had less chance of getting shot.
“Maybe they aren’t hunting tonight.”
The disappointment in Tucker’s voice bothered him. “Remember, we’re not out to kill. We just want to wound them, to make them think twice. We aren’t sinking to their murderous level. Not yet anyway.”
“Shit.”
Although Daniel sympathized with Tucker, he wasn’t ready to step over the line. “And yeah, I’ll bet my claws they’re out toni
ght. I get the impression that this group gets together a lot more than the average hunter clan.” A whiff of telltale gunmetal and human sweat tickled his nose. “We’re in luck. They’re close.” He broke into a jog, knowing the six shifters would follow.
Daniel stayed cautious, moving noiselessly as he led his men toward their adversaries. At last, he could hear the hunters’ voices, their laughter ringing in his sensitive hearing.
The hunters talked about the other night’s hunt and the shifter they’d gunned down. Fury gnawed at Daniel and he silently damned them to hell. Crouching, he motioned for his friends to stay back, then peeked around the edge of the building. Five hunters stood in a loosely formed circle, their guns comfortably crooked in their arms or resting against a nearby Dumpster.
“I say we call it a night, John.” A middle-aged hunter ran a hand over his weary face.
“Not yet. We haven’t searched long enough.” John scowled. “You getting too old for this, Walter? If so, you can always stay home and knit in your rocking chair.”
Walter drew himself straighter and puffed out his chest. “No need to turn gray over me, John-boy. If your little girlie can keep up, I can. That is, if she can.”
Does he mean Lauren? Daniel risked leaning farther out, but Lauren wasn’t around. Wait. His girlie?
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll catch up with us. Anybody’s boots can come untied.” John glanced toward the other direction and shouted. “Yo, Lauren. Are you coming?”
Daniel crooked his neck, searching for her. Was Lauren dating the hunters’ leader? He clenched his teeth and fought the revulsion constricting his throat.
Her reply echoed off the walls. “Yeah. I’m on my way. Hold up, will ya? I’ll catch up.”
“See? She’s catching up. Let’s get moving.”
“But she wanted us to wait for her, John.”
