Page 4 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Ares

It’s late in the evening when I arrive in Chicago, the city streets bathed in artificial light beneath a dark, moonless sky.

I’d planned to get an early start on my drive today, but dragging myself out of bed after too many whiskey shots at my going away party was rougher than anticipated.

Not that I have any regrets. Last night was a perfect send-off, and I’m aiming to make my first night here just as memorable.

Shadows cling to the edges of the buildings lining the street as I ease my truck up to the curb, shifting the gear into park before reaching over to grab my phone off the passenger seat.

Swiping across the screen to unlock it, I pull up my message thread with Nash, double-checking the address he sent to ensure I’m in the right place.

Nailed it.

I make a mental note of the apartment number, then slip my phone into my pocket, killing the truck engine.

As I climb out, I suck in a lungful of cool night air.

It smells and tastes different than the air back home– stale, tainted with pollution– and my eardrums are immediately flooded with the sounds of horns honking, people shouting, and the distant wail of sirens.

I’m definitely not in Stillwater anymore.

My neck is stiff from the drive, a dull ache radiating down into my shoulders.

I roll them out, stretching my limbs until some of the tension fades from my muscles.

Shifter healing’s good for that. My ability to rapidly recover should alleviate any residual soreness soon enough, and I pounded so many energy drinks on the drive here that I’m currently wide awake, ready to check out the infamous Chicago nightlife.

Reaching back into the cab of my truck, I grab my duffel bag off the passenger seat and sling the strap over my shoulder, slamming the door shut behind me. The echo reverberates down the street as I start toward the red brick apartment building, a lone wolf in a concrete jungle.

It’s not natural for shifters to live like this, so far removed from the refuge of a forest, suppressing primal instinct to blend with the human population.

I know the Chicago pack chose to settle here, but what I can’t figure out for the life of me is why .

Most shifter packs keep to themselves, forming their own communities and living off the grid.

It’s easier that way; gives us the freedom to be our true selves.

Everything about this urban environment just feels wrong .

The apartment building has a single entry door, but when I reach out and yank the handle to pull it open, the damn thing doesn’t budge.

I consider knocking, then belatedly realize there’s a keypad affixed beside it with a listing of apartments and last names.

Punching the button for number three, I rake a hand through my hair as I wait, pulse skipping when a buzzer sounds and the door unlocks.

I quickly pull it open, stepping through into the dimly-lit lobby of the building and glancing around. There’s a staircase and an elevator across from me, but before I can even contemplate where to go, one of the doors on my left swings open and a tall, athletic guy greets me with an easy grin.

“You must be Ares,” Will says, his smile giving him away. Nash doesn’t smile much, but when he does, it’s identical to this guy’s.

“How’d you guess?” I chuckle as I pivot in his direction, matching his grin.

“The red hair.” He reaches up, carding his fingers through his own blonde waves in demonstration.

“Ahh.” I stride his way, giving him a fist-bump as he sidesteps to let me into his apartment.

Will’s place isn’t much– the walls are bare, the furniture is minimal– but it’s clean and has the unmistakable look of a bachelor pad. I take in the lone couch and TV as I move further inside, the coffee table piled with sports magazines and empty beer bottles .

“Appreciate the place to crash,” I say, glancing back toward Will as he closes the door and flips the deadbolt.

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” he quips, trailing after me into the main room. “So, when do you report?”

“First thing tomorrow,” I sigh, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

Will’s apartment is just a temporary stop-off on this journey I’ve been set upon.

In the morning, I’ll be meeting the Alpha of the Chicago pack, getting my housing assignment, and learning exactly what they plan to throw at me once I’m officially on the books.

Will nods, stepping over to the couch and collapsing onto it, motioning for me to do the same. "You probably wanna head to bed early, then?"

I snort a laugh, dropping my duffel to the floor. “Fuck no. Know any good places around here to get a drink?”

His lips stretch into a grin. “Nash was right about you.”

“Yeah?” I ask, cocking a brow. “Well, he told me you’d be down to go out, get drunk, and chase tail.”

“Then he was right about me, too,” Will remarks, leaning forward with a laugh and grabbing a half-empty beer off the coffee table. “There’s a place over on Archer Avenue. Pack-owned. Mostly shifters, though a few humans wander in.”

“Sounds perfect,” I say, rubbing my palms together. “Should we head out now?”

His brow furrows. “Don’t you wanna shower or anything after that drive?”

“Fuck no,” I chuckle. “What I want is a drink in my hand and a she-wolf bouncing on my dick.”

Will barks a laugh, the sound echoing off the bare walls of the apartment. “Fair enough,” he says, pushing up from the couch and finishing off his beer, tossing the empty bottle into the overflowing trash can nearby.

I pull at the collar of my shirt, giving it the sniff test. “Maybe I’ll just change my clothes quick,” I mutter.

“Bathroom’s the first door on the left,” he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the hall.

I give him a nod in thanks, stooping to grab my bag off the floor.

I can already tell that Will and I are gonna get along just fine. And with any luck, he’ll be a decent wingman, too.

The bar Will takes me to is a total dive.

It’s dark, crowded, and reeks of sweat and stale beer when we push through the door to enter, the loud thrum of music vibrating the chipped floor tiles underfoot.

We thread our way through the swarm of people to get to the bar, where we flag down the server busy tossing drinks to the thirsty masses and order a couple beers.

I slap a card down to start a tab when they’re delivered, snatching up a bottle and taking a swig.

“I’ll get the next round,” Will offers, tipping his beer toward me with an appreciative nod.

I shake my head, wiping my mouth off on the back of a hand. “Nah, drinks are on me tonight. It’s the least I can do since you’re giving me a place to stay.”

“You sure?” he asks, chuckling uncomfortably. “Drinking in the city isn’t cheap.”

“Positive.”

From the looks of his apartment, money’s a lot tighter for Will than it is for me. I’ve always had more than I need, and I’m happy to spread it around.

“Let’s find somewhere to post up,” he suggests, turning to scan the room.

The two of us push away from the bar and weave past the sweat-drenched mob undulating to the shitty music playing from the jukebox, making our way to a high-top table in the corner. I lean against it, scoping out the buffet of women spread around the room.

Will doesn’t waste any time in beckoning a couple of them over. “Yo, Jess! Lily!” he calls, catching the attention of two girls laughing and sipping their drinks nearby.

They stop mid-giggle, heads swiveling toward him. They’re a cute pair– all long legs and glossy hair– and they immediately abandon their own table in favor of joining us at ours.

“Who’s your friend, Will?” the redhead purrs as she comes closer, eyeing me with interest.

I may be a redhead myself, but I just can’t with red-haired women. Reminds me too much of my mom and sister.

“This is Ares,” he supplies, nodding toward me. “Just moved here from Colorado.”

“A new guy in town, huh?” the brunette remarks, resting a hand on my bicep and leaning in closer. “Exciting. You liking Chicago so far?”

“Seems alright,” I reply, flashing her a roguish grin. “Maybe you could show me around?”

“Anytime,” she replies, batting her lashes. “I’m Lily.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” I drawl, winking.

She blushes furiously, trying to hide it behind her glass as she raises it to her lips for a sip. This chick seems like a sure thing, but my eyes are already starting to wander.

Too easy .

Not that I’m above easy pussy, but I don’t want to jump the gun on deciding how I’ll end my night when it’s barely even begun.

As the four of us fall into easy conversation, I find myself only half paying attention, continually scanning the room as I acclimate to my new surroundings.

Then I see her , and it’s like everything else instantly fades away.

She’s sitting at the bar all alone, swirling the swizzle straw around in her drink and looking bored out of her mind.

The top half of her dark blonde hair is tied back neatly with a white satin bow, the rest falling down her back in soft waves, and her eyes– fuck , her eyes .

They’re unlike any I’ve ever seen before, a cool hue of grey that almost looks violet, framed by thick, dark lashes.

I raise my beer to my lips and toss it back, deciding I’d better go over there and introduce myself before some other asshole in here beats me to the punch.

“Will,” I mumble, interrupting whatever he’s laughing about with Jess and Lily and holding up my empty bottle. “You want another beer?”

“Sure, man,” he replies, oblivious to my attention shift. “Maybe a round of shots, too?”

I nod, tipping my head to Lily and Jess. “Back in a minute, ladies.”