My feel-good song.
The world faded as I built through the song which told the story of a couple hitching a ride cross-country. Dipping, I let my fingers fly across the keys, turning and swaying as I made the sax growl.
Yes.
Taking the volume low, I bent forward, feeling my hair slither over my back. I eased the intensity up a notch. And another. Building into a blasting crescendo, I moved my shoulders and spun on the spot.
Janis was the queen of letting loose. That’s what drew me to her music, and when I played, I could do the same. I poured my woes and hopes into the saxophone, surging to the last bars, putting everything I had into the build.
Arching my back, I gave full throat to the powerful ending. Holding the note, I straightened, hair swinging forward, and swayed.
My sax squealed as I toppled backwards. Fu—
Air rushed from my lungs as strong arms caught me, cradling me much the same way I cradled my saxophone.
Breathing hard after giving the song my all, I blinked up at Sascha. His honey eyes were filled with something I hadn’t seen before, but at least they weren’t black.
He straightened, and I remembered the crowd for the first time. I gasped.
Oh my god. I just fell off stage.
“Andie Booker, everyone,” Sascha called to the patrons struggling to get a look at us. “Playing so hard she falls off stage.”
Loud laughter, and the incident was forgotten as everyone returned to their drinks and conversations.
Sascha set me on my feet, and I pressed a hand to my burning cheek.
“I don’t normally drift.”
“My fault,” he said, gravel in his voice.
“How is it your fault?”
“I’ve never heard you play like that. When I entered the bar, you drifted toward me.”
Setting my jaw, I didn’t comment. Because truthfully, I really didn’t ever move off the spot while playing and this shit between us was weird juju.
“Well, thanks for catching me,” I grunted.
“You’re done for the night.”
“I have another forty-five minutes.”
His gaze wasn’t on me anymore. At Sascha’s regard, the closest guys found other places to look than my ass.
Oh, brother. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I huffed. “You made me wear this. I’m going to kill you for that, by the way.”
His lips tugged up in a slow grin. “I look forward to it.”
Molten heat spread through my stomach.
“I thought the clothes you owned would fit,” the Luther admitted, his attention on my breasts.
“Stop looking at my boobs, Sascha.”
He shifted his focus to the bottom hem that skated high on my thighs, just covering the goods.
I gripped my sax. “That wasn’t an invitation to look there either. I’m finishing my set. Unless I say otherwise, the men here are free to look their fill.”
His eyes flooded black, and air hitched in my throat.
Stepping forward, I forced his head down. “Sascha, your eyes are black.”
Said eyes hooded. “Say my name again.”
Oh, jesus. We were not doing that. “Get control of yourself.”
That was bad for both sides.
His hands found my hips, sliding over the breezy satin. His thumbs circled my hip bones, and my eyes flew to his as fresh heat pooled between my thighs.
He froze, nostrils flaring.
Humans didn’t do that. “You need to chill. People will notice.”
His lips twitched. “I’m nearly a century old, Andie Charise Booker. I’m not sure chilling applies to me at this point.”
Fair enough. I wasn’t sure the word ever applied to me.
“Your nipples are hard,” he murmured.
I stilled in his arms. “They’re not.”
“I can feel them against my chest.”
How did we get this close? “Your eyes, Sascha. Now.”
“What do you know about predators, little bird? Because generally speaking, issuing orders isn’t a great idea.”
Oh.
The circling of his thumbs was agony. I shifted my hips, but he easily maintained the hold, continuing his torture.
My chest rose. “I don’t know anything about predators, but I know calling a woman less than one quarter of your age little bird is weird.”
“You don’t see me as much older than you.”
He couldn’t possibly know that for sure.
His eyes were still hooded. Lips curved. “Or you wouldn’t smell so turned-on. Do you know what turns me on? When you press your hand to your cheek. Fucking irresistible.”
His hands felt so good. “I’m thinking of someone else.”
“Impossible.”
That got my attention. “It’s really not.”
“You’re engaged in… our breeding call.”
Yeah, and Billy looked delish the other day. “I’m human, genius. Everything is in working order, I assure you.”
His lazy grip was gone in an instant. Sascha clamped my hips against his upper thighs. And, holy fuck.
I wanted a re-run of that day in his office.
“Who?” he snarled in my ear.
The conversation wasn’t moving this way. This wasn’t a jealous lover’s spat. “I’m just saying that it’s possible. For me. Sorry if that punctures your ego. I have a feeling it will survive.”
To hell with it. Black eyes or not, the guy was on his own.
The arm around my back had other plans.
“Let go of me, Sascha,” I said calmly.
I recalled the crowd for the second time. This breeding call bullshit was strong.
Sharp pricks jabbed my back, and I jolted, staring at him in real alarm. “Those better not be claws, Greyson.”
He began to shake.
Fuck!
I twisted as far as he’d allow, signalling Grim and Lisa. They exchanged a long look and didn’t budge.
Seriously! Did they want a wolf in here?
Turning back to Sascha, I brushed my fingertips from his temple to jaw. Moving in, I lowered my voice to bedroom level—the feat was disturbingly easy to accomplish. “Your hands are on me right now, aren’t they, Greyson? I’m in the dress you chose. Others are looking, but only you can feel my nipples against your chest right now. Do you feel them?”
Yeah, I’d agonise over these words later because they weren’t meant to turn me on too.
A throbbing took up place between my thighs as I rose on tiptoe as he stopped shaking. I whispered in his ear, “You can smell how much I want you, can’t you?”
Lowering, I peeked up at him through my lashes.
Honey.
Sascha’s hold eased, and I dropped the act—or not so much—folding my arms.
He didn’t say a word, and after a breath, it occurred he might be genuinely speechless at my dirty talking. Or maybe the blood that usually resided in his brain was otherwise situated.
“Don’t bother coming by the apartment anymore,” I told him. “I’m moving to the manor until this is over.”
His eyes darkened, but he held onto the honey shade for the most part.
The DJ was waiting to set up, and we were drawing far too much attention with our tense bubble.
“Andie?”
I peered at Sascha.
His expression had never been more serious. “Don’t leave tonight without having that talk with Mandy.”
I clenched my jaw, remaining mute.
Sascha stepped forward, taking my hand. “Whatever you think of me, I never want to take anything you’re not willing to give. I couldn’t bear to look at you again if I hurt you. Promise me, please.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I pulled my hand free, dropping my gaze to the saxophone I’d completely forgotten about while crushing my body to his. “I promise.”
28
“Which side of the bed do you want?” Wade asked, far too excited about our sleepover.
“Cool.” He flopped onto the bed. “Not that I’m complaining, but why the sudden change?”
Wade didn’t make a big deal when I called from The Dens and asked him to meet me there and follow me back to the manor. He’d barely peeped until now as I sat stewing over the things Mandy told me after my shift.
I walked to stand at the foot of the bed. “Shit is tense at The Dens. I need to talk to Herc before I say anything.”
Grabbing my robe, I wrapped it tight around me, sliding into fuzzy slippers.
“Best hop to it,” he said. “In case I’m asleep when you get back, I like to be little spoon.”
My nerves churned as I padded down to Herc’s office.
The light was on, and I knocked.
“Come in.”
“Hey, Uncle Herc. You got a few minutes?”
He stared at me for a few beats. “Of course. Come in.”
Did I interrupt something? “You sure?”
“Assuredly. Take a seat. Is something wrong?”
I blew out a breath. “Not really. I just wanted to pass on a few things that happened.”
He rested both palms on the desk, blue eyes regarding me. I had a fresh moment of heartache at his resemblance to Mum.
“Does this have anything to do with your ex-boyfriend showing in town?”
Rhona beat me to it. That made this easier.
“Things are becoming tense at The Dens. I’d like advice on how to manage the situation. I feel like I’m balancing too much stuff.”
He leaned back. “Give me the list. We can brainstorm solutions.”
I studied my hands. “Did Rhona tell you about Mum’s debt?”
My uncle tensed. “No. She didn’t.”
“Mum had a gambling problem. For as long as I can remember. She managed to beat it during my teens with help. I guess the cancer wore her resolve. She was gambling in secret. A lot. I found out after her death.”
Herc’s fists curled. “What did she do to you?”
My mouth dried. “What?”
He shook his head. “Forgive me. I…” Herc shoved his chair back, turning to the window.
Heat crept over my jaw. “I loved my mother.”
“I don’t doubt that. Truly I don’t.” He faced me. “Maybe when, if, you have children one day, you will see your childhood through different eyes.”
“What are you saying?” I demanded.
Blue eyes rested on me again. “Something you aren’t ready to hear, so let’s bring this conversation back to something constructive. This debt, can I ask how much is owed?”
I struggled to rein in my temper and settled for digging my fingers into my thighs. “The sale of our house should cover the amount.”
He didn’t react, but that meant nothing when it came to Herc.
“I don’t need help with that,” I continued, “But until the house sells, it’s an extra stress which is why I brought it up.”
“Particularly when ex-boyfriends are smashing windows.”
To say the least.
“Tell me,” he said. “Rhona mentioned you’d sought lawyers.”
Oh. Fuck.
Did I tell her that? Herc could not find out Sascha’s lawyer wolves were handling Logan. Even if it wasn’t at my request.
I kept my features schooled, stealing a page from his book. “She was worried and asking a lot of questions. I lied.”
My uncle’s focus didn’t waver.
I sighed. “It’s okay. Really. Logan has backed off, but I’ll ask if I need help, remember?”
His face softened. “I’m glad to hear it.”
That better not come back to bite me in the ass.
My chest loosened. “So that’s one thing, and I’m accruing interest each day and there haven’t been any solid offers on the house yet.” Soon, I’d have to accept pittance for it, or the bank would seize the house anyway and chase me for any outstanding amount.
“That by itself is a lot to manage.”
Was it? “Things are changing at work. To start, the wolves seemed amused, but after I entered Clay and shot Sascha, they’re different.”
Nicer.
He smirked. “I can imagine. What’s happening?”
“It’s more a feeling that they’re planning something. I can’t explain it.”
“Does this feeling come from Sascha Greyson or other wolves?”
If I was careful, maybe I could mention more than initially intended. “All of them, but Sascha more regularly.”
“How?”
“What?” I stalled for time.
“What gives you this feeling?”
Oh, you know, him mentioning my hard nipples. “The way they look at me. I think they’re following me around outside of work. They overheard the conversation with Logan when he came to town.”
Herc steepled his hands.
“I went for a run and six of them must have been following, because when Logan pulled over, they showed up.”
My uncle scowled. “Have any of them touched you?”
My heart leaped into my mouth at his murderous expression. “What? No.”
He didn’t relent. “Have you felt anything strange in their presence?”
“Aside from fear? Anger, I guess. Frustration. But that’s normal, right?”
Uncle Herc rested back. “Are they just using you as we’re using them? I’m missing something here. I’ve known it for a while. Sascha Greyson is up to something and it involves you.”
Did it ever.
“Is there anything else you can tell me?” he pressed.
I tried to still my leaping heart. Herc was asking really pointed questions—about touching and strange feelings. Did he know about the breeding call?
If so, his sentiment on the matter was more than plain, unless I was mistaking rampant disgust for extreme protectiveness.
I couldn’t mention anything else on the Sascha front. “I learned more about sigmas tonight from a bartender. She said that the pack accepts a sigma will act out sometimes because they don’t acknowledge rules. You spoke about sigmas being lone wolves. The way she spoke made it seem Sascha Greyson has almost forced himself into leading the pack, like it’s not a natural thing for a sigma.”
His eyes gleamed. “Fascinating. That’s great information. That’s all she said?”
No. “She didn’t even say that much. Most of that is me theorising.”
“Yes, but your observation skills are exemplary. You never need to be told twice. You pick up on cues and make connections so easily that I need to remind myself you’ve only been here for a few weeks. I trust your theories.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
He perched on the desk. “Pretend we’re in a counter-wolf meeting, Andie. How would you use that information against the Luthers?”
This felt kind of like an interview; my natural competitiveness rose. “It shows another potential weakness in the pack. We could exploit rifts between wolves of different status, but also with Sascha’s control over the pack. They surely won’t accept endless rule breaking.”
I stood, pacing. “I think it’s a mix. In wolf form, they behave more as a typical wolf pack would in that they obey their leader absolutely. In two-legged form, Sascha is able to take human considerations into account. That could extend to hearing out other’s opinions and making decisions as a team. If he was to stop doing that, what would happen?”
My uncle spoke from his perch. “Sascha Greyson’s father was an alpha.”
I glanced at him. “Really?”
“The sigma status is important.”
“I agree.”
We shared an excited grin.
Maybe there was still time to take Sascha down—enough so this breeding call situation would resolve somehow. I didn’t mind being in his company or playing Grids—or even working at The Dens. I just needed the breeding bullshit gone.<
br />
I can figure this out.
I straightened.
“Looks like you’ve sorted out your own problem,” Uncle Herc noted.
I brushed my hair back. “Perhaps. Talking through things helped.”
“As for working at The Dens. How about you take a week off and reassess?”
“He was perfectly clear that inconsistency wouldn’t be tolerated. The casino is important to him.”
“The revenue or the venture itself?”
Both. Sascha was proud of the casino’s success. I guess it was the stamp of his new leadership. I wrinkled my nose and considered the patrons in expensive suits and dresses and the regular flash and gleam of jewels. “It’s crucial income for them.”
My uncle dipped his head. “Correct—if their drones, motion sensors, and reinforced nets are evidence of a surge in income. Whatever he is, Sascha Greyson isn’t stupid.”
Only a stupid person would call him anything but keenly intelligent. Those eyes didn’t miss a beat. Even several hours later, I couldn’t be sure he didn’t orchestrate the black eyes and claws earlier just to get me close.
Without knowing it, people just did what he wanted.
I set my jaw.
“Do you want to return to The Dens, Andie?”
Mulling over the question, I bit my lip. “It’s important.”
Herc watched me closely. “It is. Yet you must always consider your own safety. With that said, leadership sometimes means putting your feelings aside for the betterment of those around you. You’re my niece, and you weren’t raised in this valley, but you understand that being a Thana means protecting our stewards fiercely.”
I wasn’t born with this specific responsibility, but responsibility was something I learned at a young age. “Without dedication, the world quickly turns to chaos.”
Families fell apart.
Debt collectors got nasty.
“What’s that quote from?” Herc asked.
I shrugged. “Just a personal observation.”
His face hardened, and I ran back over my words.
“Does that offend you?” I asked.
He rubbed both hands over his face. “I’m just trying to reconcile myself with… a lot of things, chief amongst them, your life to date.”
My uncle reached across the desk, and I squeezed his hand, holding tight.
“You can always come to me, niece.” His eyes drilled into mine. “Promise me you always will. Even if you’re furious at me or upset or afraid. I missed twenty-one years and I can’t stand the thought of losing any more time with you.”
Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1) Page 29
