Page 15

As Izzy changed, I tore off my own clothes, ribs twinging to remind me that I hadn’t fully healed from the explosion. It didn’t matter. I had no choice but to defend myself.

There would be repercussions from turning into a wolf and fighting another wolf in the bedroom of a wealthy real estate developer.

That also didn’t matter. Other concerns stampeded out the door when Izzy looked up at me, icy eyes savage, white-and-gray fur coating her sleek lupine body, her jaws open, her fangs dagger sharp.

My magic roared through me, my skin heating uncomfortably from within as my power dropped me to all fours, my torso and limbs shifting. By the time my foe charged into the closet at me, I’d finished changing, and I met her snapping jaws with rapid and powerful bites of my own.

As a wolf, I was larger and more muscular, but her fangs scored me, grazing my shoulder, as she fought with frenzy—with hatred. If I wasn’t careful, she would kill me.

I struggled to feel indignation. In her eyes, this was retaliation from a family member over Raoul’s death… If she killed me, would it even be wrong?

My instincts protected me, not allowing my conflicted feelings to get in the way of the fight.

I leaped and dodged, avoiding her furious fangs and lunging in to bite whenever an opening appeared.

I didn’t want to kill her, only force her to leave me alone, but as my blood heated further, frustration making my attacks savage, I worried another member of the Cascade Crushers would end up dead at my feet.

Considering she’d been an elegant-looking woman, my enemy was a scrappy fighter.

She fought more like an alley cat than a wolf, throwing in swipes with her paws as well as using her body like a wrestler.

More than once, she crashed into me as she tried to force me back into shoe racks and hangers full of dangling trousers.

We ended up on the carpeted floor of the closet, thrashing about, drawing blood and leaving spatters on the beige weave.

A door thumped open nearby. Someone had to have heard our fight. Maybe everyone had.

The realization that a stream of humans might rush in and see us—or be injured because they drew too close—gave me an incentive to end the battle. Using my greater strength and weight to my advantage, I shoulder-butted my foe, ramming her against the safe.

She yelped when she clipped it. I sprang atop her, bearing her to the floor. She snapped at me, but I knocked her maw aside with my own. Snarling, I lowered my fangs to her throat, half an inch from sinking them in.

Remembering that my human side didn’t want this enemy dead, I paused.

Further, I sensed someone looking into the closet, gaping at us and also the clothing, shoes, and broken shelves scattered everywhere.

Our onlooker held a clear plastic bag with a couple of tiny hairs in it.

Two gray-haired men in dark attire gaped in from behind his shoulders.

“Do you… need help, Izzy?” The closest man grabbed a sports racket off a shelf.

Such a mediocre weapon didn’t worry me, but I lifted my jaws from my attacker’s throat. I hadn’t intended to kill her, regardless.

The icy expression that the female wolf gave me didn’t suggest she would thank me later.

Snout up, I walked out of the closet, not so much as glancing at the racket. The man—Ivan, wasn’t it?—stepped aside, letting me pass without taking a swing. The other two men backed all the way to the door of the room, one fumbling for the knob as they continued to gape at me.

Only as I sat on my haunches near the bed did I remember that my clothes remained inside the closet, buried somewhere under the mess. The other wolf growled and pushed herself to her feet. She looked at Ivan and growled again.

“Touchy, touchy,” he muttered and closed the closet door on her.

So she could change back into a human in privacy? Her clothes were on the bed.

Ivan noticed them and skirted me to grab them. He opened the closet door to toss them inside. That prompted another growl, my enemy more irritated by the whole situation than thankful to anyone, I guessed.

“So…” Ivan shooed the other two men out of the bedroom—what rumors would they start about this?—and lowered the racket as he eyed me. “I can see why you would have an aptitude for security. You’re, uhm, huge.”

I rippled my lips to show him my fangs.

“Yeah, those are huge too. Did you attack my sister or the other way around?”

I lifted my snout again, turning my face toward a window. With the battle past, my magic was fading. Too bad I couldn’t leave this great human hive and run to the woodlands to hunt before changing back.

“She started it, huh? She’s been suspicious of you all night, but I know the Sylvans. They wouldn’t hire someone with bad character. Kashvi, in particular, doesn’t take crap from anyone. And I gather they—or at least Rory—know… about that.” Ivan waved at my wolfness.

The magic faded, leaving me crouching naked near his bed. Why hadn’t anyone grabbed my clothes?

“I’m less certain if he knows about that .” Ivan’s second wave indicated my nudity. His eyes crinkled with humor, though a thump from the closet made the expression fade. He knocked lightly on the door. “Are you okay, Izzy? Do you need a ride to the ER?”

The door opened, and Izzy stalked out, fully dressed again though her shoes were missing and her hair looked like it had been blow-dried by a tornado.

She gave me a frosty look, her brother almost as frosty of one, and flung open the bedroom door to stalk out.

The stalking faltered as numerous people who must have been listening with their ears close scattered. Without looking back, she strode away.

“You two have history, I gather.” Ivan handed me the baggie.

“Apparently.” I couldn’t remember having encountered Izzy before, but she had to be seven or eight years younger than I, so she would have been a child when Raoul died and her pack left the area. “You’re not, er, weren’t affiliated with the Cascade Crushers?”

“My father was. He hooked up with my mother on a hiatus from the pack before going back and marrying one of his own kind. My single mom got to raise me on her own. I should have been bitter about that, I suppose, but I mostly wished my father would come back and do wolfish things with me. You know, take me hunting and fishing and camping.”

“I think those are dad-ish things in general.” Aware of my nudity, I padded into the closet to dig out my clothes. My ribs twinged as I bent, and blood trickled down my arm from a fresh puncture wound in my shoulder.

“Yeah. Do you need any help? Or can I take you to the ER?”

“I’m fine.” A drop of my blood landed on the carpet. Even though we’d already stained it, I grimaced. “Sorry about that. Maybe I could use a Band-Aid.”

“That bite mark is an inch deep.”

“Two Band-Aids?”

Ivan snorted and stepped into the bathroom. I’d found my clothes and shoes by the time he returned with gauze, a roll of bandage, and a damp washcloth.

“Allow me. I always offer rides, but I’m aware of the werewolf aversion to treatment in normal medical facilities.”

“We’re not normal people.”

“Oh, I’m aware of that too.” Ivan winked and dabbed my wound.

I tried to decide if he was flirting with me and if I needed to mention that I was seeing someone else and wasn’t available. He hadn’t ogled me when I was naked, but that could mean that he had manners, not that he lacked interest.

Deciding it didn’t matter one way or another at this time, I stood still while he pressed the gauze to my wound and wrapped the bandage under my armpit and around my shoulder.

“May I have your number?” he asked when he was done.

Oh, hell. He was interested.

“I’m seeing someone,” I blurted.

“I meant so I can text you the photos from the parking lot.” Ivan held up his phone, showing a grainy picture of two men getting onto motorcycles parked away from the influence of the streetlamps.

“Oh. Uhm, yes. Sorry.”

We exchanged numbers, and Ivan texted the photos.

I didn’t look closely at them other than to note that one of the brutes was large and muscular enough to be one of Radomir’s potion-swilling thugs.

And the other… Had I seen him in the parking lot of Sylvan Serenity wielding a makeshift cudgel as he rode around on his motorcycle?

“I would be available for coffee sometime if you’re interested.” Ivan stepped back, leading me out of the closet. “Or hot steamy sex with no strings attached.”

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“I’m jesting of course. Unless that strikes your fancy. In which case it’s a genuine offer. I’m divorced and available for anything up to and equaling vacations to tropical locales and torrid late-night hotel trysts.” His smirk suggested he didn’t expect me to take him up on that.

“Fifteen minutes ago, you were suspicious of me, and I, uhm, beat up your sister.”

“That’s less of a deterrent than you might think. We’ve always had an edgy relationship. She was Dad’s favorite, after all.”

Ivan opened the bedroom door, not keeping me longer. The people who’d been drawn by the fight noises had scattered, but Jasmine and Bolin stood nearby and looked toward us.

“And as I said before,” Ivan said quietly, “I’ll offer a monetary reward if you’re able to find those men and retrieve my bracelet. And if the Sylvans sell that property and you need a job, let me know. I’m positive I can find someone who can use a person with your skills.”

“My property-management skills? Or my security skills?”

“ Both .”

With the baggie of hair strands in my hand, I headed for the exit, hoping Jasmine wouldn’t mind leaving early.

I glimpsed Izzy, her wild locks now combed, though she still looked disheveled as she glared at me from the fireplace, the two older men who’d witnessed my change standing nearby.

Izzy gripped a cocktail—definitely not a mock tail—like she wanted to throw it at me.

One of the men was holding what looked like a scotch on the rocks and lifted it toward me in a salute.

I shook my head. Whether I’d seen the last of Izzy or not, I didn’t know, but I’d had enough of this party.

Jasmine waved a goodbye to Bolin, then jogged to catch up with me. “That was amazing. I had no idea that you were a master at this stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“ Networking .” Jasmine glanced back. “OMG, Ivan MacGregor is checking out your ass. And he’s not the only one.”

I rubbed my face as a doorman appeared, opening the way to the hallway. “Is that the kind of networking you want to do?”

“Well, I’d prefer to get a job offer on merit and without having to put out, but you’ve got a bunch of rich old men who aren’t going to forget your face—or any of your other attributes.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”