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Alpha's Desire Page 4

“Did you get a meeting with their CEO yet?”

  Frustration flits across my father’s face and for a minute, I pity him. For all his drive and dominant tendencies, he can’t bend the entire world to his bidding. He has a vision for his retirement—going out with a bang, of course—but he hasn’t been able to execute it yet.

  “We’re hosting a fundraiser for his favorite charity—Save the Catalina Mountains—and our event planner asked him to make an appearance to entice participation from other big donors. His secretary made it sound like he was considering.”

  “That’s great!” I’m honestly happy for him. Except I know what’s coming next.

  “We’d like you to be here, dear,” my mom chirps. “It’s a really important event for your dad.”

  “Of course,” I say automatically. After a lifetime of being trotted out to society as the perfect daughter to complete the perfect family, I’m well-trained. I check my parents’ plates, and seeing the neatly stacked silverware, stand up. “Well, I’d better get going. I have a lot of homework to do.” I pick up all three of our plates and carry them to the kitchen, where I quickly rinse them and stack them in the dishwasher.

  “What about coffee?” My mom trails me into the kitchen. “Your father and I are going to have dessert.”

  Of course, she’s not going to offer me cake. And if I asked for it, I’ll get a lecture about my weight. Sigh. Just another typical dinner with my parents.

  “No thanks, Mom. Love you.” I kiss her cheek and breeze out of the kitchen. “Bye. See you, love you!” I call out as I beeline for the door.

  The Uber pulls in right when I walk out, so I get in and check my phone for texts.

  Yeah, I’m hoping to hear from Jared again. Even though that doesn’t make sense.

  Even though I shouldn’t want that.

  I shouldn’t be excited about seeing him when he drops my car off. I shouldn’t want to know more about his mysterious healing abilities.

  But he’s like an addiction. Now that I’ve had my first taste, I can’t stop thinking about him.

  Jared

  “So when you gonna do it?” Trey asks.

  I lower the hood of Angelina’s Toyota and use the rag to give it a polish. Tank is handling the large repairs but I couldn’t help coming to check out his work. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment—wanting another whiff of Angelina’s sweet scent. “Do what?”

  Trey rolls his eyes. “Mind wipe the dancer.” He leans on the driver’s side and I throw the rag at him.

  “Quit smudging the window.”

  “Well, excuse me.” He catches the rag in a blur of movement. “Didn’t mean to mess up your girlfriend’s car.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” My gut tightens even as I say the words. Not my girl, won’t ever be my girl. I might have more muscle than brains, but I’m smart enough to know this.

  Too bad my wolf thinks differently.

  I grab my tools and start cleaning up, tossing and banging a bit more than necessary.

  “Damn, you’ve got it bad,” Trey observes. “Maybe I should take her to the leech.”

  “Over my dead body.” I straighten and point a finger at the tall shifter. He’s my closest friend, but right now, my wolf sees only an opponent. The enemy. Competition.

  Trey spreads his hands. “Easy. I’m not going to go near her. But you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

  He’s right. If I don’t do this, Garrett will kick my ass. And then he’ll order Tank or Trey to do it anyway.

  “It sucks. She’s in college,” Trey lowers his voice. “A mindwipe could seriously fuck her up if it’s not done right.”

  I slam down my tools, wanting to kick the cabinet for good measure. “I know. I know.”

  “Have you—” Trey starts, when a white Camaro rolls into the lot. My friend swears. “Don’t tell me we’ve got customers.”

  Trey heads to the door and stops in his tracks when three guys unfold from the car. One black haired, one grey, and the third wears an old fashioned hat—a fedora type that gangster would wear—only he’s so tall and skinny he looks like a scarecrow. “You called them?”

  “I reached out. They wanted to meet.” I head to the sink to clean up. “We’re going to check out a space to hold the fights.”

  “Does Garrett know?”

  “He knows.” My alpha isn’t happy, but as more of our pack gets mated off, he sees the benefit of having an outlet for his bachelors to release their aggression. More than just breaking up brawls at Eclipse. My wolf, especially, needs to fight, to bleed on a regular basis.

  The way this situation with Angelina has me riled up, I could go twenty rounds with a bruin right now.

  Trey prowls alongside me to the parking lot where the three visitors wait. Two of them smoke while the third, the tall one in a fedora, hangs back.

  “Parker,” I greet the grey-haired one. Despite his hair color, he doesn’t look much older than I am. He gives me a nod, expertly averts his gaze—not submissive but not challenging.

  The dark-haired one tosses his butt to the ground and regards us without speaking. Declan, the Irishman. I don’t remember the third guy’s name, but the way he stares over our heads, twitching nervously, he’s not going to say much.

  My wolf is uneasy as he catches their scent. It’s a bit… off. No wonder they’re not part of any pack. Healthy shifters don’t tolerate messed up ones for long. The way these guys smell, not to mention the tall one’s twitching, all but the most controlled, compassionate Alpha would put them down. I don’t know exactly what Data-X did to these guys, but from the rumors I’ve heard, death might be a mercy.

  “Glad you could make it. I didn’t expect you to have time to meet.”

  “Chance to expand, we’ll make time.” Parker’s voice is a little raspy. His eyes glow a little—his animal is close. I have no idea what his animal actually is. This doesn’t make my wolf happy. But these guys helped out Sam, our pack member and a bartender at Eclipse. And Sam trusts them.

  “It’s getting too hot for shifter fights in Cali,” Declan announces in his subtle brogue.

  Trey frowns. “It gets pretty hot here…”

  I nudge him in the ribs. “They’re not talking about the weather.”

  “The Pit isn’t as secure as we’d like,” Parker says. “Men have been sniffing around.

  “Men?” I look from Declan’s grim face to Parker’s blank one.

  “Human cops.” Parker wrinkles his nose. “Coming around asking about illegal fights and gambling. We think someone put them on to us, trying to flush out shifters.”

  “I thought that trouble was gone.” I avoid naming Data-X directly.

  Parker grimaces. “Not entirely.”

  The third guy twitches so hard, his fedora flies off his head. Declan lets out a dog-like whine that cuts off at a sharp shake of Parker’s head.

  “You’d be welcome to set up fights here,” I say, trying to stay nonchalant. These three might be misfits, but when it comes to booking fights and handling bets, they’re the best.

  “Good,” Parker says and excitement surges through me. “I got a lot of animals who want to fight, and nowhere to put them.”

  “Not to mention the bets,” Declan adds.

  I nod. “Let’s go check out the space.” My wolf howls in triumph as we head to our respective rides.

  “Damn,” Trey says, settling onto his bike next to me. “This is really happening.”

  “Shifter Fight Club. Just like we always wanted.” We exchange grins, but as we roll out mine fades. Tonight we make a decision on the space to host the fights. Tomorrow I have to take Angelina to a leech. He’ll wipe her mind, her memory of the accident, along with who knows what else of her brain.

  It doesn’t seem right that on the eve of realizing my dream, I’m going to ruin her life.

  Agent Dune

  He unlocks the padlock on the fence and ducks under the plastic police tape he put up around the burned out lab months ago. T
here’s nothing to be found here. He’s a damn good agent, he wouldn’t have missed anything. But sometimes being on a site gets the wheels turning in a new direction.

  At least it gives him something physical to do. And a guy like him fucking needs to be physical. If only high-level agent work was all Jason Bourne style chases and fights. It’s not. It’s a helluva lot of detective work.

  And it’s a million times harder when your superiors won’t give you all the information to work with. Find the arsonists. Cover up with the locals. Information about the purpose of the lab and the government’s interest in it?

  Redacted.

  Fine. They didn’t want to tell him? He’d figure it the fuck out. Just like he did when they left him with no resources but his own wits and a bullseye on his forehead in Afghanistan. And North Korea. And Iraq.

  He has a few seconds of footage from the night of the explosions. The rest was obviously redacted. But there’s a partially obscured image of a white van. A shot of a couple men. And one face he recognizes from Special Forces. Nash.

  The guy he’s been trying to find for years.

  He figured Nash would pop up at some point on the job. Anyone who disappears that deep is still buried in government secrets. Like him.

  So solving this puzzle became more interesting. More personal.

  Because Nash is something different. Not human.

  And Charlie needs to know what he is.

  4

  Jared

  The next morning, I pull up at Angelina’s in her freshly repaired Toyota. Tank was a real bro to me and got it turned around fast. I owe him one, for sure.

  I climb out and knock on her door. I texted her, so she’s expecting me, but when she comes to the door, she has a breathless, fluttery quality that makes me want to snatch her up into my arms and press her against the door for a kiss.

  But I’m not here for kissing. I’m here for something far more distasteful. Something she wouldn’t forgive me for, if she remembered it. But, of course, she won’t remember.

  “Hi.” Her lip-glossed smile beams so bright it would melt the fresh coat of paint on her car. I’m almost wounded by it. Like it gets somewhere between the cracks in my chest and fills me too full of her all-good light.

  I lean against the doorframe to keep myself from stepping into her personal space. “Hi, yourself.”

  She steps into mine, placing her hands on my chest and tipping her face up.

  Oh fates, I’m not strong enough for this. I lower my head, but don’t presume and she gives me a peck on the cheek. I’m both relieved and horrified she didn’t go for my lips, because now the need to properly claim her mouth is so strong I have to take a deep breath and count to five. It’s like I’m a pup again, trying to keep myself from getting into a brawl.

  And my tendency to brawl is exactly one of the reasons I have to keep my mitts off this pretty little human. She’s like a flower just bloomed and I’m the weed whacker that would mow her over. I know, I should leave the metaphors to the poets.

  I settle for bringing my hand to her face—just briefly. I cup it and stroke my thumb along her cheekbone, my hand large and rough against her soft skin.

  Her eyelids flutter, registering surprise and something else I can’t read. Hell, I’m surprised, too. Tender caresses aren’t usually my thing. I’m more of a hard fuck up against the wall type. Not that I’m not dying to go there with her, too.

  I force myself to remove my hand and jerk my thumb toward the car. “She’s all fixed up, angel. Ready to go.”

  She beams the thousand watt smile at me again. “Thank you. Um,”--she ducks back through the door and returns with my shirt in her hand—“Here.” She thrusts it at me. “All the blood came out.”

  I take it from her, resisting the urge to bring it to my nose to inhale her scent on it. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” I hesitate. I’m usually way more smooth with women, but I don’t want to do what I’m about to do, so I’m stalling.

  “Oh, do you, ah, want to come in?” She steps back as if to let me through.

  I shake my head. “No, baby. But can you drive me back to the club? And I just need to make a short stop on the way. Okay?”

  “Oh.” Her eyes and mouth round. She’s so damn expressive, it’s a wonder she didn’t end up an actress, not a dancer. “Of course! I’m sorry, I—”

  “No apologies.” I jerk my head toward the car. “Let’s go.” I smack her ass when she jogs past me with her purse slung on her shoulder. Then I instantly regret it. We’re not in the nightclub and she didn’t just straddle my shoulder. This is a normal day, in front of her house, and we’re not even dating.

  Which doesn’t mean I don’t watch her sexy ass sashay toward the car in front of me. “Sorry,” I say. “That was out of line. I won’t do it again.”

  “Oh good, I thought I was going to have to call some other bouncer from Eclipse to tell you hands off.”

  She’s teasing, but the words other bouncer make my fingers curl into fists. But when she tosses a smile over her shoulder, I see she’s blushing, and it does something twisty to my gut. I want to rush up behind her and catch her around the waist. Press her to her car and spank her until her ass turns the same shade of pink. Bite her neck and wrap my arms around her. And about a half dozen more lurid things.

  Damn, this girl never fails to work her magic on me.

  She walks around to the driver’s side, but I say, “I’ll drive, angel.”

  She turns and purses her lips into a smirk. “You’re the kinda guy who always has to be in control, aren’t you?”

  I shrug. “Yeah.” I figure honesty’s the best option here. “And I like to take care of you. But if you really want to drive, I’ll back down.”

  She shakes her head and walks around to the passenger side. “I don’t, really.” When her smile wobbles, my heart clutches.

  “Oh baby.” I walk swiftly to her side of the car and fold her into my arms, trying not to crush her against my chest. It feels so right, so necessary to hold her. Different from what I’ve felt with other females. Have I ever needed to comfort another female? “Have you driven since the accident? Are you nervous?”

  She accepts my embrace. “A-a little. Not nervous, really. Just—I don’t know,” she murmurs into my chest. “It scared the crap out of me, hitting you.”

  I feel like an ass for not thinking she’d be traumatized and then bullying her into letting me drive. She needed to get right back on the horse, and I stole that opportunity from her.

  I pull away and hold her arms, stroking her bare upper arms with my thumbs. “You drive, angel. I want you to feel comfortable.” I lead her around to the driver’s side and hold the door open. “Go on. It will be fine. I’ll be right beside you.”

  I doubt having me right beside her will alleviate any anxiety, but I have to say it—the need to soothe her is so strong. My wolf, tense since the talk with Garrett, relaxes somewhat.

  She climbs in and turns the key. A determined expression is on her face and I recognize that inner steel I’ve always known was inside her. The powerful drive in a human who appears so soft and flexible on the outside. This is the Angelina who conceived and executed the crazy idea of go-go dancers at Eclipse and wouldn’t take no for an answer until Garrett agreed.

  Garrett—the toughest, no-nonsense alpha around.

  The only sign of nerves I detect is the long inhale she takes before she pulls away from the curb, and then she seems to settle into driving.

  “It’s fine, right? Just like getting back on the horse?”

  Her smile holds relief and the way she slides her eyes over to me gets me hard. “Yes. Thanks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “No apologies. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”

  “You’re really quite a gentleman, Jared.”

  The laugh that issues from my throat has a dry scrape to it. “Does that surprise you?” As soon as I ask, I wish I hadn’t, because I know the answer. It’s the sam
e reason my gut twisted when she said it.

  Of course she didn’t see a gentleman in me. All she sees is the tattooed meathead that my parents always said would amount to nothing. The kid who never got his temper under control. Who’s not good at anything but using his fists.

  And obeying his alpha.

  I’m the alpha’s enforcer. The muscle that backs up Garrett’s law. Above that, I’m absolutely nothing.

  She gives one of those adorable blushes that gets me hard. “No. It’s just, um, really coming into focus. Nevermind. I didn’t mean to say that.” She flaps her hand and blushes harder.

  Damn. The fact I have her flustered thrills the dominant part of me and soothes the part that’s banging against the container because I don’t get to have her. I’m under her skin—at least for the moment—and I’ll take it.

  “Where am I taking you?” She pulls the plump flesh of her lower lip between her teeth and I have to adjust my cock in my pants.

  “Downtown, to the club. But we need to make a quick stop on the way. Also on Congress Street.” It’s hard to ignore the sticky sensation of dread in my own veins as I contemplate the errand.

  She nods and drives downtown and I direct her to No Return, another nightclub up the street from Eclipse. I called ahead to arrange a meetup with a leech there. He’s a nice enough guy. I wouldn’t say I trust him, but I don’t distrust him either. Wolves don’t trust anyone who’s not pack, though.

  She parks and looks at me expectantly.

  “Come in with me for just a second. I want you to meet my friend Fox.”

  She blinks for a moment.

  Fuck.

  Either she’s picking up my vibe or I’m a shitty liar. “It’ll be quick.”

  But she grabs her purse. “Um, okay.”

  I’m sure she’s wondering why I couldn’t just walk from here. It’s just a couple blocks to Eclipse—a guy like me shouldn’t need a chauffeur.

  I walk around the side and catch her hand. She looks up in surprise and I shrug. “I know it’s inappropriate, but I’m feeling protective at the moment. Humor me, okay?”