by Amelia Jade
Brass-brown eyes met the strange golden-brown eyes of the dragon across from him, pouring all his anger and rage into the gaze, but it just slid right off the wily old shifter.
He’s probably been stared at by far worse people than me.
With his efforts not producing any discernable results—hell, not producing any results at all!—Zander bowed his head with a sigh.
“Fine,” he forced out.
“So, besides the obvious,” Daxxton said in a much more sympathetic tone. “What else is bothering you? The girl?”
Zander nodded. “I used her, and I feel pretty shitty about it. She deserved better.”
Daxxton leaned forward onto his forearms. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s wonderful. Short, spunky, and oddly enough…human,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he spoke, picturing the look Riss would have given him if he’d described her as spunky to her face. “Brown hair, and these wonderful, amazingly beautiful gray eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them.”
Zander started to speak some more when he noticed Daxxton was looking at him strangely.
“What?”
“I meant, tell me about why she’s pissed at you.”
“Oh,” he said, feeling sheepish. “That’s easy. I ended things with her.”
“How come?”
So he told Daxxton about his mother’s last wish, his failure to accomplish it, and how he’d basically used Riss toward that end.
“But now that she’s passed, there was no need to keep stringing her along. So I let her go.”
“And now you’re an angry asshole?”
“I guess,” he replied, glaring at Daxxton once more.
“Zander, I want you to think about something for me, okay? Don’t dismiss this question right away either. Actually think about it. Can you do that for me?”
“I suppose,” he said warily. “What is it?”
“I want you to ask yourself this: were you truly stringing her along?”
The question rocked Zander back into the booth.
Of course he had. She’d been nothing more than a pawn to help him satisfy his mother’s request. Hadn’t she? That was why he’d left her, so that she could resume her normal life without him. That would be for the best.
Even as he thought those thoughts, something in his mind rebelled against them, telling him that no, there was more to this. That Riss wasn’t just a puzzle piece he’d been using. He’d picked her for that purpose, yes. But something had gone awry during the process.
Somehow he had come to care for her.
She made him feel happy, and content. Zander was always smiling when she was around. Her touch lit him on fire, and the way her gray eyes stared at him with wonder and awe made him feel as if he were the only person on the planet when she was around.
Why didn’t I realize any of this sooner?
Because you’re a blind idiot, that’s why.
His dragon sent a pulse of disgust his way, letting him know that it had tried to let him know, to make him see that Riss meant more to him than he’d ever suspected.
“Holy shit,” he said aloud, his eyes still unfocused. “I really have screwed this all up.”
“Just not in the way you thought,” Daxxton said from across the table, taking another sip of beer.
“I need to go,” Zander said, standing up and reaching in his pocket for some money.
“I’ll handle this one, my friend. Go. Go find her,” Daxxton urged.
Zander nodded.
“Go!”
He took off into the night in a mad dash for her place, superhuman strength sending him flying through the streets faster than most could match.
I’m coming, Riss. I promise.
Chapter Twelve
Riss
“This looks like a good place.”
The neon sign outside flashed on and off in a slow repeat.
The Quicksilver Inn.
On.
Off.
On.
Off.
The gray light, or silver she supposed, was soft in the dark, not overly gaudy like some of the pinks and yellows other establishments used that jarred her eyes with their vibrancy.
The heavy door opened slowly, resisting her pull.
Then suddenly it flew open and she almost stumbled inside.
“Sorry about that,” a voice said from behind her.
Riss glanced over her shoulder, forced to crane her head up. And up. A dull-faced grizzly shifter stared back at her, easily identifiable by his huge height.
“It’s okay,” she squeaked and kept heading inside.
“You sure this is where you want to be, little one?” the big shifter asked.
“Yes,” she replied, squaring her shoulders and standing up to the fullest of her not-quite five-and-a-half feet of height.
She was sure it looked ridiculous with the massive shifter standing behind her who was over a foot taller, but it was about appearances more than anything with these people, and Riss couldn’t afford to show any weakness just now.
With a sniff of disdain she strode into the bar, letting the questioning looks slide off her as she headed for what appeared to be an empty seat, right in front of the pouring taps. That would do just fine, putting her within easy reach of a refill at least.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked from behind the counter.
“Got anything geared toward my kind?” she asked without hesitation.
The bartender, a medium height man with tired eyes, looked her up and down briefly. “Only in bottles.”
“That’ll do. Not picky tonight,” she said.
The drink was deposited in front of her, and she twisted around in her seat to look at the rest of the bar, ignoring the questioning looks from the two shifters on either side of her. Riss wasn’t ready to talk to anyone just yet. Perhaps after a beer or two she could see if either of them could carry a conversation without trying to sleep with her.
Unlikely. They all usually have one thing on their mind at this type of place. But we’ll see, I suppose.
The bar began to fill up as she continued her survey, the night growing deeper. There were several distinct sections to the Quicksilver. The main portion was L-shaped. The entrance, at the corner of the L, was designed to funnel customers toward the rear of the bar, so they had to pass more places selling booze before they could leave. There was a short little seating area just to the left of the door, forming the bottom of the L. That area was filled with the elderly, those who would probably be leaving soon, she figured.
The farther to the rear she looked, the younger the crowd got. There was a recessed dance floor off to the side at the back, where several couples danced with each other, lost in the music. Riss was sure it would get more crowded as the night wore on.
Turning back to the bar, she took a deep drink, letting out a sigh of contentment as it went down.
The shifter on her right rolled his eyes and got up, finding somewhere else where he could perhaps quench his sorrows in quiet, she supposed. Riss wasn’t objecting; the extra space was quite appreciated. While it lasted, at least.
“You got a bold set of nerves on you, drinking in a place like this on your own,” a voice said, sliding into the now-vacant seat next to her.
“Me?” she asked, not positive he’d been talking to her.
“You’re the only human I see in here,” he responded.
Riss looked over at the man leaning casually on the bar. Taller than her, but not as tall as Zander, he had jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders and bright blue eyes that gave him a sort of aloof, biker-model type of look. His features were a little too delicate-looking to truly capture the biker look, but the lack of facial hair was also a dead giveaway. Still, he was obviously a shifter judging by his natural grace. He might look fragile, but he could still easily overwhelm her.
“So? I’m allowed to be here,” she said.
“I’m sure you are,” the shifter repli
ed.
Wolf. He had to be wolf, she thought. The smooth, arrogant air about him screamed it at her. But there was more. Something about him rang out as familiar.
“Have we met before?” she asked suddenly, before he could continue with whatever useless bullshit he’d been meaning to say.
“I don’t think so,” he said, frowning at her. “I’m positive I’d remember a pretty little thing like you.”
Oh brother.
“Thanks, I think,” she said dryly.
“It was a compliment,” he assured her. “I do apologize if it was too…sleazy, I guess. I did not intend it that way.”
The acknowledgment of his pathetic line brought some of her attention back to him. He was kinda cute, she supposed, in an exotic sort of way. He was smaller than Zander, but still packed full of muscle. This man was more lithe and graceful, where Zander exuded power and control. Different, but still somewhat appealing. Perhaps she could have a conversation with him.
“All right, Mr. Wolf. You’ve got my attention. Don’t lose it.”
He smiled and stuck out a hand. “Rielly.”
“Riss,” she replied, taking his hand.
“So Riss—which by the way is an extremely interesting name, flirtation aside—what brings you to the Quicksilver on a Monday?”
“Lost my job, lost the guy I sort of thought I had. People are probably hunting me. Pretty much, my life is over,” she replied without hesitation. “What about you, Rielly?”
The wolf shifter hesitated. “Well, now I can see why you’re here,” he said.
He tried to cover it up well, but something flashed behind his eyes. She tried not to roll her own as he gave away his excitement at hearing that there was no longer a guy in her life. So easy to read.
“Well, unfortunately nothing nearly as exciting as that, I assure you,” he replied with a laugh. “I simply had a rough day at work, and needed to blow off some steam. I’ve been to this joint a few times before. It’s usually a good time on a Monday. So why not, I figured, right?”
“Right,” she agreed, and they raised their glasses and took a drink together.
“Care to dance?” Rielly asked as the music changed abruptly, breaking into a much more lively tune that had many in the bar tapping their fingers and bouncing their feet.
“No,” she replied, then eyed her drink. “Not yet.” Maybe after another drink or two she’d feel up to it.
But at the moment, she couldn’t stop comparing Rielly to Zander, and he was coming up short in every way possible. There just wasn’t that magnetic connection she’d felt with the brass dragon, which had drawn her in without even needing to try.
Besides, she couldn’t shake the feeling she knew him from somewhere. He looked so familiar.
A pack of wolf shifters walked by at that moment, easily identifiable in the way they stuck close to each other, and the general similarities in their dress, and even in the looks of some. They split up into several tables nearby. She wondered idly if Rielly was on good terms with them or not.
Many of the wolf packs in Cadia did not get along, and if they went out together, it could often end in fights with rival packs. Riss hoped she wasn’t about to get caught up in the middle of one tonight.
***
One drink became two, which became four, and Riss was feeling much more talkative now.
“So he said ‘I need to go’ and just leapt off my balcony, leaving me there alone. Can you believe it?” she said, raising the mug to her lips once more.
“No,” Rielly said, still sitting next to her, though he’d dragged his chair closer at least once, possibly twice. She was having a hard time remembering little details like that. “No, I can’t.”
“I know. What a dick,” she muttered. “And here I thought I liked him.”
A hand touched her cheek. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off him,” Rielly said. Fingers cupped her jaw and pulled her toward him, even as he dipped his head toward her, turning slightly to the side.
“Easy there,” she said, holding up a hand as it became clear he was trying to kiss her. “Not so fast, buster,” she said, pushing him back gently.
“What the hell?” Rielly snarled, and he tried to pull her in again.
“I said, stop,” she said once more, raising a hand to his chest to push him back, but it was like trying to topple a brick wall. She couldn’t stop him, and his fingers on her chin were gripping like steel.
“Enough!” she said firmly, putting a hand to his face, but Rielly just tore it away.
“You’re going to kiss me,” he said fiercely. “So just accept it.”
“No!”
Why wasn’t anyone interfering? Surely they could see that she didn’t want this, so why were they all just ignoring what was going on! Riss tried to look around, to make eye contact with someone, but Rielly held her firm.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
Steeling herself, Riss prepared to bite his lip as he moved to kiss her.
***
Zander
He reached up and lightly tapped two fingers on the shoulder of the man in front of him.
“Fuck off,” the recipient of his touch snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Oh, I can see that, and I do apologize,” Zander said politely. “I just have a really quick question for you. I promise, won’t take long.”
“What?” The man still didn’t turn around.
“You know,” Zander said with an eyeroll that only he and the other person involved could see. “It’s polite to face someone when they’re talking to you.”
“And when they’re being a rude jackass by interrupting you?” the other man replied.
“All right, that’s enough. I tried being polite, you piece of shit. That’ll do.”
The man sitting in front of him finally turned to face him at the insulting tone. It was what Zander had been waiting for, because to do so, he had to drop his grip on the person across from him.
“Fuck y—”
The wolf shifter never finished his sentence before Zander’s hand landed on the back of his neck, squeezed, and hurled him across the bar. He smashed through a chair and then impacted on a big wooden pole that acted as a support for much of the roof. The solid piece of oak dented under the force, but it held.
“She didn’t want a kiss from you,” Zander growled into the sudden silence as the music died and patrons all turned to look at him. “We have a rule here in Cadia. It’s called, ‘don’t force yourself on anyone.’”
He reached the fallen shifter and hoisted him up by his hair, eliciting a howl of pain from the unfortunate man.
That was when Zander caught his first glimpse of him.
“Shit,” he said, noting the other shifters moving up behind the dazed wolf. “You look a lot like the guy who tried to mug her the other night.”
“That’s my brother,” the man spat through bloody teeth, his lip split and bleeding everywhere.
“Ah. That explains a lot,” Zander said mildly. “Riss,” he called.
“Yes?” she asked unsteadily.
“I think we’ve been had.”
“What do you mean?” she asked with the slight slur of someone who was happily buzzed.
“This guy didn’t come up to you at random. This was all a setup. They hoped I would show up, if they didn’t expect me to be meeting you here.”
“That’s ridiculous, Zander,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You see too much into things. I don’t always need you to come along and break stuff.”
“Riss, this is the brother of the guy who tried to mug you the first time I met you. You really think that’s random?”
He saw the logic penetrate her eyes now.
“I thought he looked familiar!”
“Well, now you know why.”
The crowd had been backing away, but five figures did not.
“Riss,” he said again.
“What now?”
“You should get behind
the bar,” he warned.
“Why? Are you going to fight them all now?’ she taunted.
“Only if they throw the first punch,” he replied sincerely. “But I’m pretty sure they have every intent of that.”
The first one stepped forward to confront Zander.
“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “You do what you have to then. Don’t get hurt.”
Zander blinked at her words, surprised at the endorsement, but he couldn’t take the time to dwell upon it. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she threw herself over the bar at the same moment everything exploded into action.
Zander, still holding the ringleader by his hair, pulled him up and into the path of the first wolf shifter’s punch. The blow was a solid one and knocked the hapless pack master into Zander, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. He managed to roll with the blow though, so that he landed on top, knocking the wind out of his charge. Zander drove his forearm up into the man’s jaw, snapping it closed painfully as he rolled to his feet just in time to duck under a follow-up blow.
“Shit,” he muttered, bobbing and weaving as the punches came faster as another man tried to join the fight.
A blow took him in the face and he staggered backward against another pole. Reaching up, he clamped his hands onto the support beam and lifted his feet, kicking out at the closest charging wolf.
Two booted feet hit him square in the chest and the target flew backward, limbs flailing everywhere, until he hit some hastily evacuated tables and chairs. Wood splinters flew everywhere as the furniture exploded on impact.
Zander didn’t have time to contemplate the damage as two more wolf shifters closed in. Reaching to his side, he hurled a chair at the far one and closed with the near one, getting inside his striking range quickly so he could drive up with his elbow into the man’s jaw. The wolf shifter’s eyes glassed over and Zander hurled him at two more charging men.
The three of them went tumbling to the ground just as a flying chair shattered over Zander’s side. He spun at the blow to see it was the same chair he’d sent flying moments earlier. A right hook followed up the chair, but Zander threw himself backward, knuckles just grazing his chin. He leaned forward as the wolf shifter overextended and drove his head into his opponent’s.
