SHADOWS OF A WOLF MOON Book 5: RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES (5 page)

Chapter Eight

“Coffee and beignets, please.” Catty gave her order to the waitress at Café du Monde. The restaurant was already buzzing with the voices of customers ordering the sugary doughnuts and chicory coffee. People didn’t visit New Orleans without at least one trip to Café du Monde.

She didn’t usually treat herself to the city’s renowned delicacies, but with her meeting with the stranger in only a few hours, it might be her last day alive. So she was going to enjoy her last meal.

There was something lethal about the Were’s eyes, the way he carried himself. Fear had paraded down her spine when he’d grabbed her, but when he’d started talking about her family, that’s when shit had gotten real.

Her family knew where she was. They knew what she was doing. She couldn’t imagine her father allowing her to come home, not with the amount of shit she’d landed in. She was covered in it.

She studied the plate of beignets and the cup of black coffee in front of her. She stirred an ample amount of creamer and sugar into her coffee to mask the bite of chicory until the coffee was the color of caramel.

She took a sip of the hot brew. “Ah, that’s good.”

She bit into the confectionary sweet and sat back in her chair, watching the city come alive around her.

The majority of the shop owners had not opened for business, and traffic was sparse. The morning had a soft gray glow that covered the sidewalks in a dreamlike state. If she were a tourist visiting the city, she would be enjoying herself. But she wasn’t. She was a captive.

Her stomach clenched and she dropped the half-eaten beignet on the plate, her appetite gone. In a little while she’d be meeting the werewolf in Jackson Square. She wasn’t sure what he had to tell her, but she knew it had to be bad. Like a phone-call-in-the-middle-of-the-night bad.

Maybe her dad was sick? Or her mom? Maybe something had happened to Zane?

She wiped the sugar off her fingers with a napkin and thought about her big brother.

She’d been a pain in his ass when she was a kid. She knew because he’d told her plenty of times. She’d always gotten the feeling Zane was more tenderhearted than he let on, that he put on a tough facade because her dad expected it.

Her lips tugged into a smile as she thought about the times she’d sneak into his bedroom when it would storm outside.

She’d always hated thunderstorms. She wasn’t scared of the thunder. No, she was afraid of the lightning. It would flash at the right time on the right shadow and she would start imagining her dolls coming to life and trying to climb into her bed to hurt her. She would pad quietly over to Zane’s room and crack open the door. She’d done it so many times he wouldn’t say anything, just wave her in with his hand and pull back the cover. They’d sleep back to back until the early morning, and then she’d head back to her bed before her parents would wake up.

She’d had a picture-perfect life growing up. She’d lived in an affluent neighborhood and made friends easily enough. But she didn’t really find her best friend until the day she met Skylar.

Skylar was beautiful with bright red hair and big, curious eyes. She’d seen her out on in her front yard in front of her trailer. Catty had cried and screamed to play with the little red-haired girl until her mother had finally relented and turned the car around. Even at young age, Catty had known how to get her way.

That moment had led to Skylar coming over to her house about every day.

Skylar had a totally different personality from hers. Skylar liked to color-coordinate her Barbies’ clothes, making sure everything matched, while Catty preferred them to look dramatic, mixing colors to make them stand out. Skylar would put away the toys when they were finished playing, while Catty didn’t want to waste time doing something so menial. She always had another game to play, another adventure to explore in the backyard, or another way to irritate Zane. She didn’t like to wait or she might miss out on something.

At the time she didn’t realize Skylar was different in other ways too. While Catty was a gray wolf, Skylar was a red wolf. Red wolves were mortal enemies of the gray wolves.

Race didn’t matter to her. Skylar was her friend no matter what.

Although her friend had never spoken about her home life, she knew it wasn’t ideal. Not by any means.

“I thought I said Jackson Square.” The deep masculine voice made her jump in her chair.

“You said six thirty. It’s only six.” She pressed her hand against her chest as her heart
thump-thump-thump
ed against her palm.

“No time like the present.” He grabbed her elbow and brought her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t touch me.” She didn’t keep her anger out of her voice. She snatched her arm out of his grip and gathered up what was left of her breakfast to toss it into a nearby trash can.

He shadowed her every step, the heat of his body almost suffocating.

She turned and glared. “Haven’t you ever heard of personal space?”

“Making sure you don’t run.” His tone was hard and flat and unapologetic, making him an easy wolf to hate.

“Where would I go?” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth and hit all too close to home. She curled her fingers into tight fists, her hands thrumming with each pulse of blood. “It’s not like I could outrun you.”

“Let’s go.” He motioned with his hand toward the direction of Jackson Square.

She hurried across the crosswalk before the light turned green. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to see whether he was following. She could feel him.

At this early-morning hour, few people were hanging around. Artists hadn’t even started setting up their highly coveted places around the square.

“Here is fine,” he growled.

He stopped behind the shadows of the shrubbery and trees in an attempt to hide his large frame and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

He was large, larger than the majority of the Weres she’d been around, with large broad shoulders that moved with the agility of a large lethal safari cat.

He wore dark jeans, black biker boots, and a white T-shirt stretched within an inch of its life. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to show off his muscled body or if the department store didn’t make a shirt in his size. With his size, it was probably hard to find clothes that fit.

He still had on the same damn black leather jacket she’d seen him in last night. A bead of sweat curled at his temple, and she knew he had to be sweltering. If not now, he would be once the sun was high in the sky. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need the coat for intimidation. He was intimidating without it.

She met his gaze and shifted her weight, digging the toe of her tennis shoe in the dewy grass and staining the white canvas green.

His dark blue eyes, almost a cerulean color, bore into hers. His face was handsome enough, but the glare he was giving her tempered her thoughts on his physical appearance.

His raven-colored hair brushed the tops of his shoulders. A rogue breeze ruffled his locks, sending his male scent directly to her personal space.

Her body tensed, and something stirred deep in her belly. Shivers raced through her system, and she wasn’t sure whether it was from fear or attraction. He smelled like no wolf she’d ever come across.

Right then, she knew she was screwed.

***

“Avocado flavor. Can you believe it?” Jaxon held up a woman’s green thong and waved it under Barrett’s nose. “I thought they only made candy-flavored thongs.”

“You would know.” Barrett gritted his teeth and shoved the lingerie out from his line of sight. It was bad enough he was trying to keep everyone in the dark as to where Lucien was, but now Granny had invaded the barracks, armed to the teeth with edible undergarments.

“They make all kinds of flavors, not just candy,” Granny stressed to the group of interested Weres. “There’s chicken and waffle, taco and refried beans, and don’t forget bacon. If you can put it on a potato chip, then they can put it on a thong.”

The slight headache that had started at his temple when he’d seen the old lady barging in was now building up to a migraine. She’d said she was dropping off some snacks for his Guardians.

He hadn’t realized she was dropping off thongs.

“Bacon’s pretty good,” Jayden growled with a red thong hanging out of the corner of his mouth. His canine worked the garment like a dog working a barbeque rib.

“Hey, pair it up with this avocado and see how that tastes.” Jaxon tossed the green thong and Jayden caught it one-handed. Jayden stacked the underwear together and began to go to town on them.

“What did I do for karma to put me in this hell?” Barrett mumbled to himself. He had a lot of shit to worry about besides standing around all day watching Jayden slobber over a pair of panties. “Why would you even bring those here?” He shot the old woman a look.

“Because I ordered the jelly bean assortment of thongs and bras.” Granny pursed her lips. “Those idiots at the factory messed up and sent me the football fantasy ensemble.” Her eyebrows furrowed to the point they almost got lost between her wrinkles. “And my ladies don’t want a bunch of underwear that smells like a Super Bowl party.”

“I don’t know. These things are pretty damn good.” Jayden eyes glazed over as he finished off the crotch.

“That’s what you think until you see the reviews. There have been more accidents with this package of thongs than you can shake a stick at.” Granny propped her hands on her skinny hips.

“What do you mean?” Jaxon stopped chewing, dropped the underwear, and gave Granny his full attention.

“There are reports coming in by the droves that men are going wild with lust. Once they start eating, they can’t stop. Why, one woman in Mississippi got her big toe bit off by her husband who wouldn’t wait for her to pull her undies up. He smelled bacon and went in for the kill.”

Barrett felt a bit nauseated.

“What did the woman do?” Jayden asked as he reached for another pair out of the taco-flavored box.

“Apparently it wasn't the first extremity she’d lost. Lost her pinky finger when she was helping her husband set traps for nutria rats.”

“Damn, she got her finger caught in a trap?” Barrett winced.

“Not exactly. When she went back to check the traps there was a live nutria rat. That sucker latched onto her pinky finger and snapped it right off. Like biting into a candy bar.”

“Damn.” Jayden cringed but reached for another set of underwear, obviously intrigued by Granny’s storytelling.

“Now she’s trying to sue the company for an unsafe product and for being traumatized. Said her husband couldn’t help himself, he was attracted to her drawers like a bee to honey.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Barrett mumbled and scrubbed his hand down his face.

Jaxon snorted.

“Granny, please,” Jayden implored.

“I think she’s trying to make a quick buck. Any woman who goes trapping nutria rats with her husband knew what she was getting into when she purchased those bacon-flavored drawers.” Granny glared.

“So why did you bring them here?” Barrett rubbed the bridge of his nose. His headache was now approaching hurricane strength and he wouldn’t be surprised if he blew an aneurysm. On the bright side, if it did happen, he wouldn’t have to listen to Granny and her bacon-flavored thongs, and he would be put out of his misery.

“The company doesn’t want me to send them back. Said they’re not going to make them anymore. Too much bad publicity. So you lucky boys get them.” She picked up a cardboard box, opended it, and spilled the contents out onto the table. Colorful thongs— green, pink and red— decorated the table like a strip club on Mardi Gras.

“Try this. It’s the waffle-and-chicken flavor.” Granny held it out to him with a smile. “You look like a waffle-and-chicken kind of guy.”

“I’m not.” He scowled, hoping to scare the old woman into quiet submission.

“Taco?” She offered him a red thong.

“No!” He shook his head and struggled to keep his voice calm. “Look, you can’t keep this stuff in here. I’m not running an adult store.” Besides, he had bigger fish to fry, like trying to keep his Guardians from getting skinned alive.

“I think Lucien would like the waffle.” Jaxon picked through the thongs spread out on the table. “Speaking of which, how much longer is he going to be gone?” He met Barrett’s steady gaze.

“As long as it takes.” He narrowed his eyes, daring Jaxon to push the issue. Silence stretched between them, and Jaxon finally shrugged and went back to eating.

“In the meantime, you boys eat up!” Granny clapped her hands and smiled.

Chapter Nine

“Let’s get this over with. I’m not going back to Jonesboro.” Catty lifted her chin and pointed her finger in his chest, despite the pounding of her heart. She wasn’t going to let some stranger roll into town and start dictating to her, no matter how big he was.

“What are you talking about?” His brows drew together and he scratched his unshaven cheek.

“I know my parents sent you to find me.” The desperate words seemed to echo and bounce off the shrubbery as she fought and failed to keep her voice confident. “You can forget it. I’m not going back.”

“Your family didn’t send me.” His tone, slow and deliberate, landed like a punch to her chest.

Her heart felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and any moment she expected it would break out of her chest and land on the grass with a thud.

“They didn’t?” She cleared her throat and mentally shook herself. What had she been thinking? Why would they want her back if they knew what she was?

She could feel the heat rising in her face but forced herself to maintain eye contact.

“No, they didn’t send me.” He looked around and then narrowed his eyes at her.

“Then what do you want from me?” He might be hot as hell, but she knew better than to trust a handsome face. He was up to something.

“I need some information. There is something going on with the Arkansas Guardians. Some are missing.”

“So?” She snorted. “Maybe they got tired of doing what they were told and decided to leave.” She understood all too well the desire to follow her own rules and not live under the command of anyone else.

“Catty, don’t play with me. A girl like you working in a strip club that has more werewolves than humans has bound to have heard or seen something.” He leaned in closer. His anger, his frustration, and his scent snaked around her like a vine. He was pissed, really pissed, but she couldn’t help herself. Without thinking, she leaned in slightly to get a better sniff.

“What are you doing?”

She took a quick step back and shook her head.
Sniffing you up
didn’t seem to sound right in her head, so she decided to shift the focus.

“Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I’ve not heard anything about any Guardians. I’m not the kind of girl a Guardian would hang with.” She smirked. “You must have gotten some bad intel.”

“I don’t get bad intel.” His eyes blazed.

Her heart went into overdrive and a bead of sweat rolled down her temple only to be swallowed up by her T-shirt. Freaking Louisiana heat. She probably resembled a drowned rat.

“Look, buddy.” She pushed her finger into his chest. He didn’t budge. “I don’t know anything about missing Guardians. Louisiana isn’t exactly swimming with Guardians since Edward Boudier has been running the state.”

“Edward Boudier? The Pack Master?” He blinked.

“One and the same.” She shrugged. “He seems to think the state is fine without Guardians and has been firing them right and left. Maybe that’s what your Pack Master is doing too.”

***

Lucien knew Edward Boudier had been an asshole to Barrett ever since the Louisiana Assassins had crossed into Arkansas without letting Barrett know. The whole thing was bad business to start with. Lucien had been surprised Barrett hadn’t come down harder on Boudier.

But now with Heimy skinned and Mitchell missing, the Louisiana Pack Master would take a harder stance on illegal activity within the state. He would want
more
Guardians.

Unless Barrett hadn’t told Edward about the missing Guardians.

“You’re telling me civilian werewolves are okay with everything like it stands, with having fewer Guardians?” His eyes bore into hers. She’d better be honest with him. He wasn’t here to play games.

“Civilians don’t get a say.” She cocked her head and crossed her arms.

The wind changed. Her scent— soft, sultry, sexy— washed over him. His mind blurred and he couldn’t control his body as his gaze dropped to her full mouth. His dick tightened behind his jeans. In that moment, time slowed and noise ceased. From the curve of her lips to the glint in her eye, he was trapped in the spell of her scent, unable to focus on anything but her.

What did her body taste like? What did she sound like when she came? What did she look like in the afterglow of an orgasm?

Shocked, he stepped back and sucked in a deep breath, dislodging the surprising erotic thoughts that had come out of nowhere.

Women didn’t affect him. Not like she had. When he was horny, he paid for ass. It was a lot less complicated and the women never asked why he kept his jacket on during sex. Many thought it was a turn-on.

As he stared down into Catty’s blue-gray eyes, his heart thudded in his chest. He glanced up at the approaching sunrise and blamed his reaction on the heat of the city.

Surely it had nothing to do with her.

“Everyone has a say. It’s the duty of the Pack Master of every state to protect its Weres.”

A shadow of sadness crossed her eyes before a mask of indifference slipped carefully into place. A hardness etched into her pretty features, and he knew she wasn’t going to give him any more information today.

“I guess I won’t take up any more of your time.” He stepped back and propped his hands on his hips.

Her lashes fluttered for a second. She held her breath as if he were waiting to trick her.

He wasn’t. It wasn’t his style.

“Good. I’ve got things to do.” She lifted her chin and turned on her heel.

He watched the sway of her hips as she walked away. Even in cutoff denim shorts and a baggy shirt, the girl had a body that had the early-morning male crowd stopping what they were doing and turning to watch her.

A nearby artist stopped setting up his artwork and watched Catty with lustful eyes. Lucien let out a growl before he could remember himself. The man caught the look in Lucien’s face. His smile faded and he quickly got back to work.

He watched until she turned the corner. He would give her a few seconds before following. He knew how to tail someone without getting made.

Keeping to the shadows was how he’d survived the city before. It was how he planned on surviving it again.

***

With her heart in her throat, Catty made it halfway down the alley before she glanced over her shoulder. She fully expected the large wolf to be following her. The empty alley sent a smidge of disappointment settling across her gut.

She shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to be disappointed. She was relieved.

Fisting her hands at her side, she continued walking. The soft tap of the rubber of her tennis shoes against the pavers echoed quietly between the two buildings. The rising sun and the shadows of the alley did nothing to shield her from the heat of the day. The humidity would reach its fingers through every nook and cranny of the Crescent City and not leave any living thing untouched.

She plucked her sweaty shirt away from her stomach and cursed the heat.

Reaching into her back pocket, she fished out a ponytail holder. She secured her sweaty hair with the tiny scrap of elastic. A heated breeze skimmed the back of her naked neck and a loose drop of sweat rolled down from her hair.

She swiped her hand across her forehead and glanced both ways down the street. After a car rolled past, she hurried across and then took another left toward the run-down part of town.

This wasn’t a part of town she would ever brave alone at night, but right now, with the sun coming up over the horizon, she felt safe enough to travel and not worry about getting mugged.

This was a high-crime area, especially after dark. Though drug houses were abundant in the neighborhood, so were the elderly people. Those were the people who’d lived there all their lives and couldn’t afford to move out. Their neighborhood had been taken over by the drug dealers, and the elderly were stuck.

She stopped when she came to Mrs. Willis’s house. The shotgun-style house, painted a vivid yellow many years ago, had seen better days. After weathering storms like Hurricane Katrina, the house was more the color of a coffee-stained tablecloth than a bright friendly yellow. A peeling white picket fence and the small gate hanging off-center were more evidence of how the house had fallen into disrepair.

Every now and then, Catty would squeeze her eyes and imagine the house in its glory days, when it looked like a picturesque portrait of the typical American dream. It was a blessing in disguise that Mrs. Willis had gone blind a few years ago from glaucoma. She would hate to know what her house looked like now.

She shoved open the damaged gate and walked down the uneven brick walk to the front door. The porch was small and empty with an old white rocking chair. In the spring, Catty had come by and hung some purple petunias from the porch. Mrs. Willis had commented on the smell and assured Catty they must be pretty. To some, it might seem like a waste of money since Mrs. Willis would never see the flowers, but it was worth it to see the old woman smile.

She rapped briskly on the wooden door. “Mrs. Willis, it’s Catty.”

She glanced over at the neighbor’s unkempt yard. The grass was in desperate need of mowing and the bushes against the house looked like they hadn’t been trimmed in over a year. An old Lincoln sedan sat in the yard with its naked wheels up on cinder blocks.

The other houses on the street were not much better. Mrs. Willis would cringe if she could see the forsaken state the neighborhood had fallen into.

She’d tried to get Mrs. Willis to move, but the old lady was stubborn. She said it had been her home for eighty years and she wasn’t about to move. She said the way she was going to leave her home was in a pine box.

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Willis dressed in a simple yellow cotton dress and a gray apron.

“Catty, dear.” The excitement in Mrs. Willis’s voice touched something deep inside her and made her homesick. “I didn’t expect you today. Come in, come in.”

“It’s my day off and I thought I would come for a visit.” She gave the woman a hug, inhaling the comforting scent of drugstore perfume.

“I’m glad you came. I’m not sure if I have any cookies for tea, but you’re welcome to look.” Mrs. Willis placed her hand at the base of her throat and frowned. Being brought up in the South, she thrived on being a good hostess, even after her eyesight failed her.

“I ate some beignets and I couldn’t possibly eat another thing,” she declined politely as she stepped inside. The high ceiling fan stirred up enough breeze, sending a welcome relief from the heat.

She glanced around, noticing the dust on the end table beside the couch.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you. I didn’t mean to drop in on you like this
.” But I needed someplace safe away from Lucien’s probing eyes.

The way he looked at her had her feeling a certain way about the male. She didn’t want to put a name to the emotion. He might be hot, but he was dangerous. And she was done with dangerous werewolves. She wanted someone safe.

Right now a relationship would have to wait. Her love life was officially on the back burner.

“You know I always love to see you, dear.” Mrs. Willis tapped the floor with her cane as she shuffled into the living room. “Shelly came and cleaned yesterday. It wasn’t her normal day, but she said she needed some extra money for school clothes so I let her.”

Catty gritted her teeth. Shelly was Mrs. Willis’s granddaughter. She’d met her a few times. She’d come over once while Catty was visiting and asked her grandmother for money. With dark hair and blue eyes, Shelly was attractive and knew how to dress to accentuate her body. She didn’t have any tattoos or piercings and seemed nice enough. But there was something about the girl Catty didn’t trust.

When she found out Shelly was cleaning Mrs. Willis’s house for money, she’d made a point of checking out the furniture and floors when she came over. While the floors had been swept and stuff picked up, it was evident no deep cleaning had been done. Nothing had been dusted, the toilets hadn’t been cleaned, and the rugs had not been vacuumed. She didn’t want to worry Mrs. Willis with her suspicions of a lazy girl, so she kept her mouth shut.

“Is she still liking school?” She tried to keep her tone casual as Mrs. Willis shuffled over in the direction of her rocking chair. Catty gently laid her hand on the woman’s arm to escort her.

“She’s doing fine. She says her classes are going well.” Mrs. Willis eased into the rocker that had been in her family for generations. And although it squeaked like a mouse, she said she loved it and had no reason to get another.

“You’re up mighty early. Did you have to work last night?” Mrs. Willis asked.

Catty worried her lip with her teeth at the mention of her job. She’d lied to Mrs. Willis when she’d asked what she did for a living. She knew what the woman’s reaction would have been if she found out she was a stripper. So instead she’d told her she worked at a convenience store.

“I do worry about you working so late at night. Crime gets bad in the city at night when people think God ain’t watching. But believe me, God is always watching.”

Catty’s stomach twisted. That was what she was afraid of.