The first woman, not to be outdone, grabbed his cock through his jeans and squeezed. “You’re a big one, aren’t you? Plenty to go around.”
Isaiah had had enough. He gently disengaged from both women and headed to the short corridor beyond the bar with their soft complaints trailing behind him. He was done with waiting.
The bouncer met him just beyond the door to Damek’s office and held it open. Isaiah stalked into the room, grateful when the door shut, closing out some of the grating noise and overwhelming smells.
“How the hell do you live here?” His preternatural senses told him the vampire was with him. Power pulsed all around him, potent and strong.
Laughter rose from the corner of the room and Damek strode forward—tall, dark-eyed and pale-skinned. “You get used to it. It does have benefits.”
“If you say so,” he muttered. Of course, Damek needed blood to survive. It was smart to keep your food source close. Joshua had told him Damek was rumored to be almost a thousand years old. Isaiah had no idea if it was true and, at the moment, couldn’t care less. He wanted out of here.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend.” Damek waved to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.”
They weren’t friends and he wasn’t sitting. They occasionally did favors for one another, but that was as far as it went. Werewolves and vampires were naturally suspicious around one another. But the survival of their respective species had pushed aside the natural boundaries that had kept them apart since the beginning of time.
The paranormal bounty hunters had given them a common foe, one that had made them reach out to one another in a way they wouldn’t naturally do.
“I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.” He wasn’t exactly polite, but he didn’t want to antagonize either.
“Very well. What can I do for you?”
Isaiah kept his hands loose by his sides and did his best to keep his guard up and his mind blank. He had no idea if Damek could read his mind or not. Keeping apart for so long meant neither species knew as much as they should about the other. It kept them all on edge.
Isaiah figured Damek probably enjoyed that.
“Just a courtesy call to let you know I was in the city.” Damek was head vampire in Chicago. Isaiah didn’t want problems with the local paranormals while he was here.
“Ah, I take it you’re here to see to James LeVeau’s belongings and, of course, those of his exceptionally beautiful daughter.”
Isaiah growled. “Careful, vampire. That’s my sister-in-law you’re talking about.”
Damek laughed. “So Joshua is as smart as I thought him. Good.”
“I’m outta here.” Isaiah made for the door, but stopped as power surged around him. He turned and glanced over his shoulder.
Damek shook his head. “You Strikers, you’re so arrogant.”
“And you’re not,” he countered.
The vampire smiled, this time showing his teeth. “Enjoy your stay in Chicago.” Damek seemed to merge with the shadows, disappearing even from Isaiah’s preternatural sight.
He didn’t linger, but walked straight through the bar and out the door. Power clung to the place. No one knew if Damek was good or evil, but the sonofabitch sure was powerful. Not an enemy he’d want. The bastard would be relentless. You had to respect that.
The night air helped to cleanse the stench of the club from his skin, but nothing soothed the restlessness tugging at him.
He kept heading northward, ambling aimlessly and eventually hitting Wicker Park. He knew he should be going in the opposite direction, back to Riley’s Garage on the South Side. But he didn’t want to go back, not yet. He knew he wouldn’t sleep so he might as well walk and enjoy the sights.
The city itself was vibrant and alive, filled with many different ethnic groups and economic levels. He’d seen homeless people and folks in limousines, those decked out in jeans and others in diamonds. The food and the nightlife were just as diverse. Maybe that’s what he needed. Some good food and some decent music.
He wandered past a bar and a woman’s voice drifted out on the cool October breeze. He froze, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A guy bumped into him from behind and started to curse him, but one look at Isaiah’s face and he quickly moved on.
Isaiah felt his entire body clench with need as the woman’s low, sultry voice wrapped around him. Turning slowly, he stared at the outside of the small club. Haven, it was called. It was a typical older, three-story brick building with a business on the bottom and what looked to be apartments above it.
A sense of urgency filled him. An air of expectation swirled around him. Somehow he knew if he went inside this bar his life would be changed forever.
All the more reason to keep walking.
He whirled on one heel and strode in the opposite direction. About twenty feet away, he stopped.
“Fuck!”
The wolf inside him was howling, practically clawing at his skin to be free. His lungs couldn’t take in enough air even though his chest was heaving. He raked his fingers through his hair and swore again.
His instincts would not be denied. Spinning around, he stalked back to the bar. He paused on the doorstep, took a deep breath and crossed over the threshold.
The bouncer on the door nodded at him as he passed. The guy was about six-one and built, his shoulders practically filling the doorway. His blond hair was buzzed off in a crew cut and his pale blue eyes missed nothing as he watched the door and the crowd within.
The light was dim, but that was no problem for Isaiah. With his preternatural sense of sight he could see easily. The smell of liquor and warm bodies mixed with the spice of sexual arousal, creating a heady perfume. He could also smell food, and it reminded him once again that he hadn’t eaten in hours. His fast metabolism required him to eat several times more than a human male and he was running on empty.
He found an empty table for two in the far corner and sat with his back to the wall as he scoped out the place. The woman was no longer singing. No matter. He’d find her before he left here.
The place was crowded for a Thursday night. He could see only one other free table. Several couples were dancing to a bluesy number being played by a four-piece band that managed to fit on a tiny stage at the far end of the place. The bar dominated one wall with plenty of seating surrounding it. The bartender was a big guy who looked up when Isaiah’s eyes landed on him. Their gazes met and held, neither of them backing down. The guy finally looked away when a woman walked up beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
And holy shit, what a woman. Isaiah was ninety years old. Still relatively young given his five-hundred-year lifespan. But in all those years, he’d never seen a woman like this one.
Even from a distance, he could tell she was tall. Long black hair fell like silk over one of her shoulders and didn’t stop until it hit her waist. Her features were more striking than beautiful. Exotic. Strong. Her full lips were painted a deep red that all but begged a man to kiss them.
Isaiah’s cock swelled in agreement, pushing against the zipper of his jeans. He hadn’t been aroused this quickly since he’s been a young male just coming into maturity.
“What can I get you?” He resented the perky female voice that shouted near his ear. He didn’t want to stop staring at the woman standing behind the bar. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to drag his eyes to the waitress standing by his table, tray tucked under her arm as she waited for his order. She was probably in her early twenties with tousled blonde curls and an open, friendly smile.
“Beer. Whatever’s on tap.” It didn’t matter to him what it was. His metabolism ensured he couldn’t get drunk on it no matter how much he drank.
“Sure. Anything else?”
He was about to say no when his stomach growled again. “Is the kitchen still open?”
“Absolutely.” She handed him a small menu even as she listed off several items. He ordered two double cheeseburgers and fries to take the edge off
his hunger. She nodded and gave him another smile. “No problem. I’ll be right back with your beer.”
Isaiah reached out and snagged her wrist before she could get two steps. The waitress raised her eyebrow in question. He tugged her closer so he wouldn’t have to shout. “Who is the woman behind the bar?”
The waitress glanced over toward the bar and then back at Isaiah. “That’s Meredith. Meredith Cross. She owns the place.”
Meredith. He let her name roll over his tongue as the waitress slipped away. He liked the sound of it.
A few minutes later, the waitress returned with his beer. He nodded and slipped her the money for his order and a generous tip. “What’s your name?”
“Tammy.”
“Thanks, Tammy. Keep the change.”
Her eyes widened and she smiled. “Thanks.”
Isaiah picked up the glass, rubbing his thumb over the condensation forming on the side. He sipped as he let his gaze wander around the small club. Meredith left the bar and disappeared into the back. His gut tensed, but he relaxed when she returned a few minutes later. She chatted to customers in an easy manner as she worked her way across the floor.
The whole place had a laid-back vibe that slowly eased the tension out of him. Tammy returned with his food and set it on the table. Isaiah devoured all of it, even the pickles, which he really wasn’t fond of, but he was too hungry to care. He was surprised by how good the burger tasted. When he was done, he pushed the empty plate aside and ordered another beer.
Meredith ran a smooth operation. Everyone did their job and well. He sat back in his chair and continued to watch her and everyone around her. The big guy behind the bar wasn’t the only bruiser who worked for her. He noted another man working the far end of the bar. About six-four, he looked enough like the first bartender to be his brother.
A tall man with brown hair came from out back to ask Meredith something. She went up on her toes and kissed his cheek before he returned to wherever he’d come from.
Jealousy reared deep within him, dark and ugly. Why was she surrounded by all these men? On the one hand, he was glad she was well-protected. On the other, he felt like she belonged to him, was his to protect.
Which was crazy. He couldn’t protect anyone. Hadn’t he proven that when his sister had been kidnapped by paranormal bounty hunters thirty-five years ago? She’d only been fifteen, not yet a woman when they’d taken her. He’d been going for a run in the woods and she’d wanted to come with him. He hadn’t wanted his baby sister tagging along with him so he’d told her no and taken off, not realizing until much later she’d tried to follow him.
He’d returned home later that day to find his sister missing, his mother shattered and his father and brothers all out hunting for her. What they’d discovered was grim. There had been no mistaking the stench of bounty hunters in the woods.
Isaiah had held himself responsible and made it his mission in life to kill as many hunters as possible. He’d never found a trace of his sister though he’d searched for years. Eventually, the family had accepted that she’d been killed. They’d never been the same.
When the time had come for him to assume the mantle of Striker for his pack, he’d known he couldn’t do it. He’d failed the one person who’d needed him the most—his sister. His loyalty was to her memory. He couldn’t trust himself to put the welfare of the pack over that of his own family. He had four brothers left and now a sister-in-law. And he’d kill anyone who threatened them no matter what, even if that meant killing another member of his own pack.
Ever since the life-changing incident with his sister, Isaiah had felt apart from all of them, as though he no longer quite belonged. For a werewolf, the pack was everything. He felt more like an outcast, a loner, as time went on.
He shook off his bitter memories and took another sip of the now warm beer. He should leave and head back to watch the garage. In a day or two, he could start loading up the truck and head home.
The thought of being able to deliver Alex’s stuff and then take off by himself for however long he wanted should have made him feel better. It didn’t. He’d been alone for most of his life and liked it that way. He enjoyed his own company and didn’t need anyone. But for the first time, he felt…lonely.
He shoved back his chair and got to his feet. This was stupid. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, but he didn’t like it. It was time to leave this place and these strangers, including the alluring woman.
As though he’d conjured her from his thoughts, Meredith stepped up onto the stage. The dress she was wearing fell to her calves and shimmered in the spotlights. Two thin straps held up the top and the fabric molded two very fine breasts. The neckline dipped low, exposing quite a bit of cleavage. She was slender but curved in all the right places. Isaiah’s fingers itched to dip into that neckline and tease the curves of her breasts.
The band stopped playing and the crowd clapped. She held up her hands and laughed. He felt that laugh all the way to the tips of his toes. Every muscle in his body tensed and his balls grew heavy.
“If you don’t mind indulging me, I think I’ll sing another song for you this evening.”
The crowd went wild, hooting and stomping. From their reaction, Isaiah guessed this must be a normal occurrence. Meredith glanced at the band and nodded. They began to play a song he recognized. Then she opened her mouth and sang.
He sank back down onto his chair, mesmerized. It was the voice that had drawn him to the club in the first place. As if she was stroking him physically, his body responded to every note she sang. He didn’t care about the words of the song, which were about a woman who wanted someone to watch over her. Although it was no hardship at all to watch her sing, all he cared about was the way her voice made him feel.
Aroused? Without a doubt. His cock was as hard as a steel post. He ached with wanting her. It was all too easy to imagine stripping off the form-fitting sparking blue dress she was wearing and kissing and licking every inch of her creamy skin.
Her long hair streamed down her back like a dark waterfall. He wanted that hair skimming over his naked body, her fingers wrapped around his engorged cock as she stroked him.
His large body shuddered as her voice continued to seduce him. Once he had her naked, he’d spread her legs wide and feast on her pussy until she screamed his name in pleasure. Then he’d fuck her until neither of them could remember their own name.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back. This was crazy, but there was no denying the pull he felt for this woman. He hadn’t even met her, and he was already fantasizing about having her in his bed or against a wall or anywhere he could get her. He didn’t care where it was just as long as he had her.
For all he knew, she belonged to one of the men who worked here. A low growl of warning slipped from him. He’d rip out the throat of any other man who touched her.
That thought stopped him cold. He’d never felt possessive about a female in his life, let alone a human. It just wasn’t right. She might be beautiful, but no matter how much sex he had with her, she wouldn’t be able to still the relentless need pounding within him. Only a female werewolf could do that. And only the one meant for him could truly ease the edginess that seemed to be a permanent part of him.
He’d given up looking for such a female years ago.
Her song ended and Meredith smiled as the crowd applauded. Then she announced the last call for the bar. Isaiah glanced at his watch. It was later than he’d realized. The crowd began to thin out as people finished their drinks and left.
Isaiah sipped the last of his beer until the glass was empty. He didn’t want to leave, which was starting to piss him off. He forced himself to stand, but instead of heading for the doorway, he headed toward her. Meredith. He couldn’t leave. Not without speaking to her.
As if she sensed his attention, her head jerked up and she stared at him. Her eyes widened the closer he got. He knew he was big and probably looked quite menacing right
now. Arousal was riding him hard and it was all he could do to control his primal nature, his need to toss her over his shoulder and drag her off into the night with him.
Her eyes were a stormy blue. That’s the first thing he noticed about her when he stopped in front of her. He took a deep breath and stilled. He could smell the light scent of her perfume, something sweet and sultry. It was mixed with the smells of the bar and tinged with fear. But beneath it all was something spicy. He could almost taste it on his tongue. It caused his already erect dick to get even harder.
He stared down at her in amazement. “You’re a werewolf.”
Chapter Two
Meredith stared at the gigantic stranger as a combination of fear and arousal streaked through her. She’d noticed him the minute he’d walked into her place and had steered clear of him. Any man who made her uneasy was to be avoided at all costs.
Michael and Benjamin had noticed him too and had warned her away from him. As much as she loved both of her sons, they could be as overbearing as any male at times. But she knew their concern came from their love for her, so she forgave them when they overstepped their bounds. She was an adult after all.
She had to tilt her head back to look at the male, which in itself was amazing. She was five-eleven and was wearing three-inch heels, and he was still about four inches taller than her.
And wide. He had shoulders a mile wide. His shaggy mahogany brown hair fell wild around his shoulders, giving him an untamed look. His eyes, which were devouring her, were deep brown, almost black, the color of bittersweet chocolate.
He’d never be called handsome. His features were too rugged for that. He was compelling and sensual. He exuded a latent male sexuality without even trying. He’d garnered quite a few looks from the women here tonight, but he’d ignored all of them. She knew because she’d been watching him.
He made her breasts tingle and swell. Just looking at him made her cream her panties. This was a man who looked like he just might satisfy her in bed.
Isaiah's Haven: Legacy, Book 2 Page 2
