Loved by the Alpha Wolves

by Anastasia Chase

  Another mystery I would have to discover later.

  I cleared my throat, not wanting Madeline to feel left out.

  "So that's it then? If we are coming tonight, you are going to have to give me some more details. Time, venue, all that stuff."

  "Here." Jasper pulled out a pen from his pocket, retrieved a random scrap of paper, and started writing details on the back. He folded it up and slid it across the table toward me. "Don't tell anyone else about this place. We like our audience to be exclusive."

  As I opened the paper, I didn't recognize the address at all. It wasn't any venue or concert hall I had ever heard of before. I looked up at him with confusion written all over my face.

  "It's a speakeasy. No one's supposed to know about it except the famous people around town. That at the bottom is the password you will need to get in. But it changes every day, so don't think you can use it to sneak in any day of the week."

  My eyes scrolled to the bottom of the paper. I gave Jasper an incredulous look, who remained unmoved by it.

  "Really?" I couldn't believe it.

  Xavier grinned widely.

  "That one was my idea."

  "Of course it was," I replied with a shake of my head and tucked the piece of paper into my purse. "Now if you will excuse us, we have a day of getting ready if we are going to be at your gig tonight." I had heard everything I needed to know, and after being invited to their performance, I knew there was no longer any reason to be worried. I'd smelled no hostility from them and they had made no mention of playing together being a bad idea.

  "What...?" Madeline looked up at me as I stood from my seat, suddenly confused that we were leaving.

  "If the boys have a show tonight, that means they are going to be practicing the rest of the afternoon, which means we should get out of their hair." I looped my arm in hers and led her toward the elevator. She continued to babble until we were fully inside, trying to make sense of what was going on. I gave the men a small wave just as the doors closed, and they delightfully waved back. Save for Jasper.

  Once we started to go down, Madeline seemed to lose her cool.

  "Can you tell me what the hell that was about? You were acting really weird back there."

  "I don't know, I'm just...excited about all of it."

  "You sure? Because that whole meeting felt pretty damn awkward to me. I have never seen you clam up like that before."

  "Don't worry about it, Maddy. Everything is fine now. In fact, how about I give you the rest of the day off and you come with me to this gig?"

  Her eyebrows almost met her hairline. The elevator pinged once we got to the first floor and I led her out by the arm. She was still flabbergasted by my suggestion, all the way back into our car.

  "They invited you, Kiara. Not me."

  "I don't see why that should be a problem. Plus it would be nice to have you there, to give me a second opinion on whether I should really do this."

  The real reason I wanted her there was because I was afraid of my own wolf and what I would do if I was left to my own devices. I probably wouldn't end up coming home after the show and having some kind of affair with any of the Fat Bastards wasn't going to be good for anyone. Not so early in our business relationship, anyway.

  "Are you sure? I mean, you were all practically staring at each other the whole time. Are you sure you don't want to get to know them on your own?"

  "No! I mean, it would just be nice if...when was the last time I ever gave you time off anyway?" I was trying to appeal to her better senses, so she would have no choice but to go.

  "Almost never."

  "Exactly. Consider this a paid vacation. The drinks are even my treat."

  She seemed resigned to that, the worry leaving her as she sat back into the leather of the back seat.

  "Fine. I guess I can't argue with that."

  "Oh, thanks, Maddy. I definitely owe you one."

  I told our driver where to take us—the fashion district—so that we could look for new outfits for tonight. Most likely, there would be a different kind of crowd than we were used to, and we didn't want to stick out like sore thumbs. That meant donning a little leather and some studded accessories; a little dark makeup too, and we would definitely look the part.

  I couldn't help the giddy feeling that ran through me as we headed down the street. My own kind, so close, and they had no problem with me being in town. So much so that they wanted to play onstage with me. If I played my cards right, maybe staying with them could become more permanent. That even though we had been separated from our own packs, we could stick together and remain friends. The thought made me feel a lot less alone like I actually belonged in this city rather than pretending to be a part of it.

  Finally, I was starting to feel like this place could be a home.

  7

  I couldn't have been more satisfied with my look as I checked myself in passing one of the store windows. Decked to the nines in leather, torn black stockings, some ankle-high boots, and more cheap jewelry than I knew what to do with. Madeline was a little less accessorized but still fit the part. She looked a lot more relaxed and seemed happy the drinks were on me tonight.

  I felt like I was on Cloud 9 as we made our way down the steps toward the speakeasy. It was tucked deep between two buildings—supposedly restaurants—that if I hadn't been given the address, I never would have found this place. There were no crowds either, which meant we weren't going to have to impress any bouncers to get inside.

  The stairs were steep and the door waiting for us at the bottom was made of solid metal. There were a few graffiti tags on it, which they probably didn't remove because it helped it to blend into the rest of the surroundings.

  "Are you sure this is the place?" Madeline asked, a parroting of my earlier sentiment. She hugged her jacket a little closer around herself to keep the chill of the evening wind at bay.

  "I'm pretty sure, Maddy. Metal door, pound on it four times, and wait for someone to show up." She extracted the slip of paper from her purse, likely to remind herself of the password. Xavier's sarcastic grin came to mind and I shook my head. Of all the things...

  My fist connected with the door four times, each knock reverberating throughout the metal. I held my breath and waited. Then a small rectangle in the door slid open and presented me with a coal-black pair of eyes hooded by bushy, grey eyebrows, peering back at me.

  "Can I help you, miss?"

  I glanced to Madeline, who shrugged. I pulled her forward until we stood side by side. There was no turning back now.

  "We are, uh, guests of the Fat Bastards?" she said. I held out for the hope that that would be enough to let us in so that we wouldn't have to utter this awful passcode.

  "Look, I don't got time to waste here. If I let in everyone who said they were friends with someone inside, I would lose my job. So if that's all you got, screw off."

  We were stunned into silence by his reaction, and I got the feeling he didn't want us lingering around too long and attracting unwanted attention. Madeline turned to me and tried to press the paper into my hand.

  "I can't do this. This is stupid!"

  "I would think you, of all people, wouldn't be afraid of something silly like this." I snatched the paper from her hand and stared down at the scrawled letters on the paper. As asinine as it seemed, I felt the dull weight of mortification sinking into my belly, making it difficult to even utter the word.

  "Doing deals and getting contracts isn't the same thing, you know."

  "No, but you're my manager. You must have seen and done weirder crap than this." I looked at the paper one more time before crushing it in my hand. We were either going to stay out here all night before heading home, or we were going to get inside and change the rest of my life forever with three shifters.

  I bit my lips together, sighed, and cringed at the next thing that came out of my mouth.

  "Tickle farts."

  "Excuse me?" The man stared back at me in disbelief.

&n
bsp; "Was...was that not the password?" Panic struck me as I looked back down at the paper again. No, that's what was written there. Was this some kind of joke?

  "I don't know, I couldn't exactly hear you. Could you speak up a little?"

  If I thought my embarrassment was unbearable earlier, having to utter the same crap again was making it worse.

  "Tickle farts," I said a little louder, glancing over my shoulder to ensure there was no one behind us to hear the nonsense coming out of my mouth. Madeline looked equally shocked but a little relieved that she was not the one pulling this off.

  The unblinking eyes seemed to light up before the man slid the viewing window closed again. There were several dull thunks and the door finally opened to grant us access. Just beyond it was a tall man—probably a little over six feet tall—with a stature to match his deep, imposing voice. He had long, grey hair he wore in a long ponytail and his large, heavy arms were completely covered in so many tattoos, it was hard to pick out his natural skin tone. Tiny silvery studs ran from his lobes all the way to the tops of his ears. He wore a grey tank top, black pants, with boots. His face was completely clean shaven, and he had a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

  "Ladies," he said before stepping aside and making a sweeping gesture for us to enter. He definitely sounded and looked a lot friendlier without the door between us. "Bar's on your right, stage is to the left. Be sure to get your drinks beforehand ‘cuz once the show starts, you are not gonna have room to get ‘em. Bathrooms are all the way at the back and please keep your personal items close to you."

  He was starting to sound like an air steward at this point and I couldn't help but suppress a chuckle.

  "Why is that even the password?" Madeline whispered to me as we made our way inside.

  "I don't know, it just seems like a cruel joke to me. Xavier did say it was his idea...Come on, let's get some drinks."

  "Get me a whiskey sour," she called through the crowd as I headed to the bar. Madeline was going to look for a good spot for us to watch the stage from, though it honestly wasn't that crowded in here. I soon returned with her whiskey sour and a plain beer for myself. If I was treating her to drinks all night, I was going to have to save money somewhere.

  "What do you think the show is going to be like?" I asked as I tucked the bottle cap into my pocket. A piece of memorabilia of tonight.

  "Well, these people don't look like the moshing type. But it's hard to tell until the music actually starts. People get...different with live music."

  "I hear you."

  We made some small talk in the meantime, wondering if this lighting was going to be similar at the gig I was going to be playing at and whether adjustments needed to be made. And whether what we heard tonight would depend on what songs I would have to prepare. It wouldn't be a very good blend for me to sing slow, jazzy songs right before an alternative rock concert and that could kill the vibe of the entire audience.

  It was then I noticed some small movement at the back of the room: the parting of a curtain, a boot peeking out, and then Landon was there, a guitar in hand. Strange, considering he was the drummer. I wanted to wave and get his attention maybe even ask why he was tending to an instrument that wasn't his. But I didn't really want to bother him, not if he was busy. He had better things to do than cater to my questions and be distracted from his work.

  My worries, however, were quickly put aside when he looked in my direction and returned a small wave, an awkward smile on his face.

  "Looks like you've got his attention. You should go talk to him. He's cute." Madeline nudged me with her shoulder and drifted toward the back of the place, where the bathrooms were. Half of me didn't want her to leave, afraid that my wolf would take over my common sense. The other half of me was glad for her absence, in case our conversation turned to topics that weren't meant for her ears.

  I quietly skirted around the room to get to him, until I was stopped by a security guard. Thankfully, Landon waved me through and the shades-wearing man stepped aside with a huff.

  "Glad that you made it," Landon said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "Great crowd, huh?"

  "Yeah, though I honestly expected this place to be more packed." I leaned against the wall, trying my best not to be too close and crowd him.

  "This isn't that kind of place. I mean, the location's shit but that's on purpose. It is actually owned by a real rich guy on this side of town."

  "Really." I thought I knew just about everyone that lived around here. I guessed I was going to have to expand my connections a little more.

  "How about the two of us go and get a drink before the show?" I offered. It would be nice to get to know him a little bit better without the other two around.

  "Xavier and Jasper are backstage setting up. I should go get them."

  He started to stand up, but my hand on his shoulder stopped him. Was he really this obtuse or was he trying to be funny?

  "No need to get them. I just want to talk to you."

  "M-me?" His cheeks flushed, and he actually looked surprised that I wanted only his attention for the time being. Was the way he acted on stage just a persona?

  "Is that really so hard to believe? An attractive guy like you must have the ladies flocking to you at every concert."

  Landon scratched his head and looked away, looking entirely uncomfortable.

  "I...usually let Xavier and Jasper deal with that stuff. They are better at talking to women than I am. I wouldn't know the first thing to say to a woman." Suddenly remembering the guitar in his hands, he refocused his attention to getting the strings tuned.

  "Usually, the first thing would be 'hello,'" I joked. That only made him turn redder. I didn't know whether to laugh or to feel sorry for him.

  I allowed the silence that had fallen between us to linger for a while until he started to look more comfortable again.

  "So you're tuning Xavier's guitar?" I asked, remembering the original reason I had wanted to come over here in the first place.

  "Someone has to." He shrugged. "He's not the very responsible type."

  Landon continued to pluck the strings, humming notes at the same time to ensure that they were in tune.

  "You got perfect pitch..." I muttered under my breath. Anyone else would have used a piano to tune a guitar, but Landon was having no problem with it.

  My compliment turned his face instantly red and his humming began to crack as he continued with the tuning knobs. I snickered quietly to myself.

  "I, uh, thanks. I...it's sort of my job to make sure everything goes smoothly."

  "To me, it sounds like you and Jasper have your hands full taking care of the 'child.' "

  That turned his face even redder.

  "Jasper and I aren't a thing, despite what the tabloids say..." His notes were getting more and more off-key.

  "And what do the tabloids say?" I neared a little closer; Landon practically squeaked in response. I was eating up his awkwardness like candy, delighting in the fact that he wasn't as hardcore as he made himself out to be on stage.

  "You know. The regular crap people make up about band members. Especially ones as good-looking as us." He slapped his forehead with embarrassment, realizing his mistake a little too late.

  "As attractive as you, huh? Is that a little of your ego showing, Mister Landon Woods?" I was practically hanging on his shoulder now, my fingers resting on his tuning hand. "Is that even your real name?" I whispered.

  A loud plunk sounded from the strings as his hand fell away from the instrument. He looked like he was about to explode, and it took all I had not to laugh in his face.

  "Easy. I'm not going to tell anyone your secret. I know what you are," I whispered, my head turned slightly to the side to keep the words trapped between us.

  "We know about you too. That's why we asked you to come play with us." His expression softened, his nerves shed in that small moment. He looked genuinely pleased that he had discovered my existence and there was an eagerness in
his eyes that he wanted to learn more. It seemed the feeling was mutual, and I couldn't help but draw a little closer.

  He must have missed it because he wasn't turning any redder

  "It's nice to know there's another shifter around. Someone else who knows exactly what you're going through." His smile was honest, his eyes twinkling, as he rested the guitar in his lap.

  "I know what you mean. Letting your hair down, shedding that barrier you keep around yourself to feel safe. It's...very liberating." I inhaled deeply. The place did stink of beer, but it wasn't the smell that relaxed me.

  "So you guys really are from Maine..."

  "Around there, yeah. Not everything we say is a lie. And I'm guessing you're really from...uh...where did you say you were from again?"

  "Alaska, and guilty as charged. Lock me up and throw away the key." I held my hands up and winked. "That's one way to keep me down."

  Landon sputtered and tried to hide it behind a nervous laugh. I had never known someone as good-looking as him to be so awkward around the opposite sex. He was as shy as a high school freshman trying to talk to the head cheerleader in her fourth year. A messy jumble of words and averted gazes when he could command the hearts of every single person in this room with just a song. He honestly reminded me of my first boyfriend, also a shifter, but he was less awkward and more intimidated by my figure, in both this form and the other.

  I remembered the first time we had met when I was in my wolf state, my black and white fur flowing in a very strong winter wind. He was an all-grey wolf, staring at me as if I was the first of his kind he had ever seen. Long after then, once we had gotten to know each better, he would still stare at me with those eyes, looking afraid to even touch me. I'd had to guide his hands many a time to my body, and he would melt into a veritable puddle of nerves and sweat. He was endearing, and I had the patience to help him work out of his shell...up until the day they had kicked me out of the pack.