Real Men Shift Volume Two: Paranormal Werewolf Romance Boxed Set

by Celia Kyle

  “Hey, you feel like listening to a murder via phone?” he asked, tilting his head to give her a mirthless smirk.

  “Always.”

  Zeke sacrificed the comfort of her touch to find Calhoun’s number. Ringing filled the cab as they waited for the good mayor to pick up. It took a long-ass time.

  “Yes?” Calhoun asked, his tone hesitant and wary. Maybe he wasn’t such a dumbass after all.

  “What the hell?” Zeke shouted. “I thought we had a deal, you backstabbing fuck knuckle!”

  He ignored Val’s soft snort. “Fuck knuckle?” she whispered, trying not to crack up.

  “What happened to giving us a week?”

  Calhoun coughed and stammered for a second. “I, uh… well, you see… I’m sorry, but I—”

  The unmistakable muffled rustling of someone grabbing the receiver echoed through the SUV. Zeke and Val exchanged a curious look.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Soren. Dick McNish here.”

  “McNish…” Zeke hissed, his boiling blood racing through his veins. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m a businessman, Mr. Soren,” McNish replied coolly, the smugness in his voice causing Zeke to reconsider ripping apart the asshole’s workers. “A very good one, in fact. Mayor Calhoun and I are on our way… I suppose it’s best not to share that information with you, considering your rude behavior. Let’s just say the deal is done, Soren. You and your people need to get over it.”

  “Fine,” Val interrupted, fire in her beautiful dark eyes. “Calhoun doesn’t want to uphold his end of the bargain, then neither will we. I can think of a few judges who’d be very interested in all of this.”

  McNish had the stones to actually laugh out loud at Val’s threat. “Be my guest, ma’am. Which ones were you think of specifically? If it’s Judge Atkins, ask him if he appreciated the Rolex I gave him for his birthday last month. If it’s Judge Larsen, be sure to tell him I’m still full after eating his wife’s delicious pot roast last night.”

  Not only had he called her bluff, but he made it quite clear that at least half the judges in the area were in his pocket. With Calhoun nestled in there with the judges, McNish basically controlled the town itself. He had to be stopped!

  “I’ve waited long enough to get this project started,” McNish continued, his tone as steely as Val’s gaze when she glared at the new sign. “Your little tantrum isn’t going to stop it, so why don’t you both stop worrying and enjoy your life. As much as you can, anyway.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Zeke snarled. “Unless you want to wake up buried under one of your condos, you better get your ass down here and talk to me like a man!”

  McNish started laughing before Zeke was halfway through with his idle threat. “I like your moxie, kid. I really do. How about this. I’ll find an alternate location for my project if you’ll start forking over as much as your daddy was paying Calhoun. Every year. How’s that sound?”

  The asshole was still chuckling as he hung up.

  “You okay?” Val asked cautiously.

  Zeke hesitated, not wanting to reveal his dark side to her. One… two… three… fuck it!

  “No, I’m not okay!” he roared, slamming the heel of his hand against the wheel so hard it hurt. “Not in the slightest! First, my dad drops dead while Mom is still in a coma, and he’s barely in the ground before she goes too. Then Chloe runs off, leaving me alone in the world. And the whole damn time, I’m sitting around on my thumbs trying to keep this fucking pack together without everyone clawing each other apart while they adjust to new leadership. Just when I think I’ve got a grip on the situation, Dick-hole McNish struts in like he owns the entire fucking town because—guess fucking what—apparently, he does! I can’t get Calhoun to give me an ounce of respect unless I’m standing right in front of him, threatening to literally bite his head off. And if that wasn’t the whole cake, icing and cherry on top, I can’t even take one fucking afternoon to enjoy one fucking lunch in my own fucking woods without running into a big-ass sign reminding me that no, in fact, I can’t take a breath for one fucking second!”

  The top of his head felt ready to pop off to let the steam escape by the time he finished ranting. Val let him sit there panting, his hands balled into tight fists that wanted to punch something, or better yet someone. The longer they sat quietly, the less angry Zeke felt. Finally, she quirked a questioning eyebrow at him.

  “That it?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and raked it through his hair before answering. “Yeah. I think so. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Sometimes we just need to vent.”

  He gave her an earnest look. “I just wish I’d known Dad was paying off Calhoun to keep Wolf Woods wild.”

  “Why? Because you, Zeke Soren, would have continued forking over cash to that wad of concentrated slime? You think either you or McNish would have been happy with that situation forever?”

  Zeke took a moment to consider this, letting his shoulders finally relax. “No. No way. You’re absolutely right. I would have refused outright, and McNish isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t settle for some sad contractor bribes when he could make hand over fist with a condo development.”

  He reached for her hand and she gave it willingly. The moment their fingers touched, Zeke felt something akin to peace.

  “I should probably talk to my advisors about all of this.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Warren and Levi, plus a couple of my dad’s old friends. They’ve really helped with the transition.”

  Again, with Val’s inscrutable expression. “Seeking outside counsel is never a bad idea, but a leader also needs to trust his instincts.”

  It was a sharp reminder that Val was a leader too. She’d seen more during her tenure in the Army than he could ever imagine. That perspective and experience would be invaluable.

  “What would you do?” he asked, desperate for a solution.

  Without hesitating, she smiled and returned the volley. “What do you want to do?”

  Dammit.

  The better question was what he didn’t want. “I don’t want to lose access to Wolf Woods, but more than that, I don’t want to line the pockets of assholes. Besides, McNish would just bleed us dry, piss on our graves, and build the condos anyway.”

  “Probably,” she agreed, giving his hand a squeeze. “You have good instincts, Zeke. I think you need to trust them more.”

  As attracted as Zeke was to Valerie and her take-no-shit attitude, he actually found himself enjoying her company. A lot. Her mere proximity cooled his temper more than a glass of iced tea on a hot Georgia afternoon.

  “It’s hard to lead,” she continued, her tone hardening as she stared out at nothing. “It’s also hard to lose, especially for people like us. We’re used to being on top and always having the answers, but sometimes you get saddled with problems that have no good solution. You have to make calls that could be either right or wrong, depending on which way the wind is blowing. But you have to make the calls anyway because if you don’t, you stop being a leader. Those choices are sometimes going to hurt people, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Sometimes shit just happens.”

  A haunted look had dropped over Val’s eyes during her speech. She wasn’t just talking out of her ass. Experience backed up her words, but it didn’t take a mind reader to know that experience hadn’t been a picnic in a sun-drenched meadow. More than anything—more than beating the living shit out of Calhoun, more than burying McNish in a shallow grave, more than straightening out the man’s crooked judges—Zeke wanted to close the distance between them and kiss away the pain in her eyes.

  But he’d seen that look before in the eyes of those who’d suffered unimaginable trauma—his sister Chloe came to mind. He knew he’d never be able to erase the pain. He just had to hope she would trust him enough someday to share it. His wolf rumbled its approval at the thought.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Yeah?” She lo
oked up at him and his gut clenched at the torment in her eyes.

  “Wanna go get a beer?”

  The tension eased and a smile played at her full lips. “Hell yes.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The hoppy taste of beer lingered on Valerie’s lips like a kiss. She and Zeke had shared a couple of beers in blissful silence as they watched the sunset from the pack house’s front porch. The moment couldn’t have been more serene, but Val’s mind kept skipping back to their picnic in Wolf Woods.

  As soon as the sun had disappeared over the treetops, she’d excused herself and headed for her room. If they hung out alone together for much longer, she might have attacked him again, right out there in the open. At least lying on her bed in the privacy of her room, no one could sense—or smell—her arousal.

  And it was only growing stronger.

  Her body refused to let her forget the barely restrained power in Zeke’s body as she’d lain on top of him, his hands roaming all over her body as if he couldn’t get enough. The glints of copper in his eyes had reminded her he wasn’t entirely human, that he and his wolf were inextricably linked as two parts of one whole. Flashes of his wild and predatory beast had burst out of him during their bout of bump and tickle, a bestial instinct to protect her… or possess her.

  She liked the idea of being possessed by Zeke, which was also very much out of character for Val. She’d always been fiercely independent, completely self-sufficient, and utterly self-possessed. Women who seemed to need a man to validate their existence baffled her. Valerie Logan belonged to herself and no one else. Yet the flare of desire that warmed her body at the mere thought of Zeke claiming her, marking her as his own, demanded to be released.

  The more she tried to ignore her feelings, the harder they were to deny. In the soft light of her bedside lamp, she closed her eyes and tried to meditate. She’d heard it was helpful for PTSD patients, but it didn’t seem to do much for those suffering from terminal horniness.

  Oh, what the hell, she thought as she let her eyes fall closed while her hand caressed her tummy, skimming up to pinch her nipple gently. She sucked in a harsh breath, drawing a grunt from a sleeping Fang, who was curled up next to Val’s side. The dog opened one eye to peer up at her mistress and then crawled to the foot of the bed and fell back asleep. Val tried not to laugh. Even Fang suspected she was about to get busy with herself and wanted no part of it.

  Relaxing against the pillow, she imagined her hand was Zeke’s as it slid down to the spot throbbing between her thighs. A sigh escaped her lips, replaying the sensation of Zeke’s tongue pressing into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips as if he never wanted to let go.

  THUMP-THUMP-THUMP

  Val jerked and pulled her hand away from her crotch at the loud knock on her door. Damn, good thing she hadn’t stripped off her pants yet. Swearing under her breath, she quickly sat up and smoothed back her hair into its customary ponytail.

  “Come in,” she called, proud there was no tremor in her voice.

  The door creaked open to allow a pillar of soft light to spill into the room. Silhouetted in the doorway was the unmistakable shape of Zeke. Her nipples stiffened and strained against the thin fabric of her tank top at his sheer proximity. He crossed his arms and leaned one massive shoulder against the doorframe, smirking at her.

  “You coming?” he asked, his smirk broadening as heat flushed her face.

  “Excuse me.” she sputtered, more embarrassed than she could ever remember being. Dammit! That stupid wolfy sense of smell of his probably tipped him off.

  He chuckled, the smirk turning into a sly grin. “To the meeting.”

  That slapped the embarrassment right out of her. She stood and crossed her arms, partly to hide her taut nipples but also to brace herself to get angry if he was messing with her head.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?” he countered, tilting his head to one side.

  “I mean why would you want me there? None of what’s going on is any of my business. I’m just passing through. I’m an outsider and a mere—” she stopped herself just before she said “human” and switched gears “—woman.”

  Zeke sighed as he pushed off the doorframe and turned to leave. “Nice. Are you coming or not?”

  She stared at his back as he headed out, wondering what the hell had just happened. Not that it mattered. She hadn’t been to a tactical meeting in ages. Hell yes, she was going!

  Ruffling Fang’s head as she left, she told the dog to stay put before trotting to catch up with Zeke. As they wove through the house, she discovered there were more rooms than she’d originally thought. The mysterious layout, combined with the low glow of wall sconces and antique lamps gave the place a strangely labyrinthine quality, almost gothic. Perfect for a pack of werewolves, in fact. Or maybe even vampires.

  With a start, Val wondered if vampires were real too. Before she could start panicking, though, Zeke ushered her into a room that looked very much like a war room. Wood paneled walls gave the room a dark, moody feel, and the massive glossy wood table lent an air of formality.

  Sitting around the table were Warren and Levi, plus two surprisingly buff older men she’d never seen before. Presumably, the mysterious “advisors” Zeke had mentioned before, the ones he’d called “elders” to Warren. Every last one of them looked shocked as hell to see her, their gazes darting between her and Zeke.

  Zeke placed a large, warm hand on the small of her back to reassure her as he guided her toward the head of the table. To her surprise, it worked. The nerves that had burst out at having everyone stare at her melted away into a calm confidence that she belonged there. She wasn’t sure how she would help, but she knew she could.

  As Zeke sat at the head of the table, Val moved to take one of the empty chairs farther down, but Zeke stopped her by wrapping his fingers around her wrist. He turned his steely gaze to the older men on his left and waited wordlessly for them to read his mind. The men exchanged perplexed glances but then shifted down so she could sit next to their leader. The butterflies fluttering around in her chest reminded her what a privilege it was for a leader to not only invite her to a private strategic meeting, but to also give her a seat of honor.

  Warren sat in the other seat of honor, to Zeke’s right. She’d suspected the rather sad-looking man was Zeke’s beta, but the seating arrangement confirmed her thoughts. Chloe had explained a little about pack hierarchy back when they were roommates, and it had stuck with her because of the similarity with military hierarchy.

  That left Levi, sitting next to Warren, as the head of security. No, the position was called “enforcer,” if her memory served. Made sense for a cop to be the pack’s enforcer. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to approve of Val’s presence, judging by the way he scowled at her. If he hadn’t been disenchanted with her before the meeting, he certainly was now.

  She gave him a serene smile, letting her death gaze bore into him until he dropped his eyes to his fidgety hands. Any scrap of guilt she felt over flirting with him evaporated. The guy needed to grow up or get out.

  “Excuse me, Zeke,” said the man next to her, his tone tense and prickly. He cleared his throat and shot his buddy another glance.

  “What’s on your mind, Shull?” Zeke asked with easy authority.

  Shull had to be Boyd Soren’s old beta. She would have bet money on it. The other one was probably Boyd’s enforcer. They were positions of respect, and it made some kind of sense for Zeke to seek their opinions on pack matters, even though Val thought he’d probably do better by listening to his advisors less and following his instincts more.

  “Would it be out of line for me to ask why you brought a hu—” His buddy jabbed him with an elbow and he cleared his throat again before continuing. “Why did you bring an outsider to our meeting? It’s out of character for you, Ezekiel.”

  Zeke bristled and trained his heated gaze on the man, daring him to question his authority again. Shull drew in a sharp, surprised breath and l
ooked away quickly, relenting to his alpha. Good thing too because she’d been on the verge of popping him in his big nose.

  After staring at Shull for a few more, very uncomfortable seconds, Zeke called the meeting to order. “Mayor Calhoun and Dick McNish are conspiring against our p— um, family. As it turns out, my father’s bad habit of negotiating with corrupt government officials has left us in a bad spot.”

  “Your father’s system worked,” pointed out the second older man.

  “It was a temporary solution to a long-term problem, Knox,” Zeke corrected sharply. “A bandage on a burst dam.”

  Shull shrugged next to Val. “It worked for decades, actually. Not so short term. Yet you refuse to follow his lead.”

  “In a number of ways, Shull. But you’re right. I refuse to pay off Calhoun any longer. Wolf Woods may not be ours legally, but we’ve acted as caretakers for the land for generations. I cannot…will not stand by and let a bunch of criminal hu—” he grimaced and regained his thought “—criminals upset the balance we’ve worked so hard to maintain.”

  Val chewed on her lips, pretending to be thoughtful when she was really just trying not to smile over their painful attempts to keep the truth of their wolfy natures secret. As they discussed the matter at hand, each shifter had trouble stopping themselves from spilling the beans. Maybe her attendance was a good thing. It kept them on their toes.

  “And to answer your previous and impertinent question, Shull,” Zeke continued, “Valerie is here because she’s proven herself a worthy ally in this matter. She gave Calhoun hell today, and I believe she’ll be an asset in our fight.”

  Val glanced up at him, surprised at his praise, and then her skin heated up at the conspiratorial smile he gave her. It was doused when Levi opened his petty mouth.

  “For all the good it did,” he grumbled.

  “So how are we going to proceed?” Zeke asked, his expression unreadable.