Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) (20 page)

I sneezed.

Anger was one of my least favorite smells. Pulling my shirt over my nose, I read the headlines of the magazines in a rack beside me for the third time. One of my guilty pleasures was to read about young Hollywood trash and find out what debacle they managed to get into since the last time I read about them. Money may not buy happiness, but it did buy a whole lot of drama.

The cashier finished processing the now irate customer. Luckily the guy behind him only had a pack of gum and gas to buy. She rang him through in a relatively short time, having little opportunity to upsell or do fundraising pitches in between items. Getting to take two shuffles forward seemed to appease most people in the line and I risked popping my nose out of my shirt to see if it smelled better.

Citrus and sunshine swirled around and forced my spine ramrod straight. I spun around. One smirking Wereleopard stood behind me, clad in a skin-tight red dress with white polka dots.
What was she doing here?
Angie shifted her gaze, somehow managing to make her lips twitch into a more condescending expression while she ran her gaze over my appearance.

What’s your problem?

From the miniscule flinch in her expression and the turned heads in my direction, I realized I’d said that out loud. Oops.

She flipped a noncommittal hand in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her words said one thing, but her actions said another. She made sure to look me up and down again and raise an eyebrow. I squashed the urge to pounce on her and have it out girl-on-girl fight style. Obviously, her problem was me. I wore sweats and a t-shirt. They were mine, but they smelled of Wick. For some reason my wash kept getting mixed up with his. I didn’t need her pointed looks to know my attire didn’t meet her standards.
Good.

I returned the unimpressed appraising look and eyed her ballooning boobs almost springing out of her dress. At least, I hoped it came across as distaste, not envy. From her smug grin, I wasn’t successful.

“You positively reek of dog.” Her lip curled up.

I hitched my hip and tried to think of a retort. I couldn’t exactly say she smelled of pussy, now could I? That was derogatory to women everywhere and not my style. “I might smell of a dog, but at least I’m not a bitch.”
Ha. Take that!

I was so impressed with my own witty comeback, I didn’t notice someone approaching until Angie’s attention moved from me to over my right shoulder. I glanced behind me. A Werewolf I’d never seen before strolled up to us. He had his hands in his pockets, but his body language made it appear as if he had my back. He smelled faintly of Wick. Nice!

Angie’s eyes widened. His scent must have reached her. Not being the idiot I wished she was, Angie put two and two together and realized the Werewolf was from the same pack as the one whose scent I wore.

Angie rolled her eyes and shoved her purchases on the nearest shelf and stalked out of the store. She still managed to swing her hips—boom, boom, boom—and made it look sexy. My dislike for her increased.

I turned to the Werewolf, who openly assessed me. He was medium height, medium build, brown hair, light café au lait skin. He wasn’t exceptionally attractive or repulsive, but his eyes stood out—a piercing, gem-cutting emerald. And they sparkled with amusement. He held his hand out. “Steve.”

“Andy.” I clasped his hand firmly and smiled. His scent wasn’t familiar. He must’ve missed out on the Supe-Mart parking lot take down. Probably a good thing. That had been embarrassing. Odd that he’d be here, very coincidental. Or was it? The gas station sat along one of the major commuter routes that led to Wick’s place.

“I know,” he said. At my puzzled expression he continued, “I told Wick a woman who smelled of the forest and wore his scent was having a showdown with a hot Wereleopard and asked if I should do something.”

I didn’t recall hearing a phone conversation while I had my stare down with Angie. But then I’d been too distracted to notice him enter the building and approach us. He could’ve communicated with Wick telepathically through their pack bond. “You think she’s hot?”

He gave me a flat stare.

“I would have preferred being the one described as hot and Angie described as slutty…” I shrugged. “But there’s no accounting for taste.”

Steve chuckled. He looked down at my purchases—at least what I intended to be purchases. At this rate, I wasn’t sure if they would be within their three year expiry date before I paid for them. “You are what you eat, you know.” His smile flashed.

I’m twisted like licorice?
Somehow that didn’t feel like a compliment. I bit back the immediate ‘screw you’ response and smiled wide. “That’s funny. I don’t recall eating sexy beast this morning.”

Steve paused while he tried not to laugh. “I take it you’re not a health nut like Wick.”

“Nope. Speaking of which, what’d he say?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“What did Wick say when you asked him what to do?”

Steve’s smile broadened. “He told me to protect you at all costs.”

The cashier interrupted whatever I would have managed aside from ‘huh,’ by calling out “Next!” She seemed perturbed at being made to wait. Steve winked at me and walked out of the store before I could ask him anything else.

“Bye!” I called out at him, and he waved without looking. I stared at his retreating back, only noticing now that he hadn’t purchased anything.

The cashier took hours to ring up my three purchases, which gave me time to think.
Wick said
protect at all costs
. He’d basically announced to a pack member I was his mate. The alpha’s mate.

I chewed through half the licorice on my way home while I tried to figure out how I felt about that. About Wick. About everything. One thing was for sure—the big boy and I were going to have words.

I let the door slam when I walked into Wick’s house. Prepared to launch into a tirade, the fresh scent of other Werewolves in the house pissed me off. Well damn. I’d have to wait. With my body overheating, I used my shirt to fan myself before walking down the hall. Though I expected to see a number of people, I froze when I rounded the corner. The place was jammed full of Werewolves.
Packed with pack
.

My scent drifted into the room before me as a silent announcement, and the Weres turned toward me as a collective whole. Some growled their disproval.

Cold invisible hands clamped around my throat, squeezing, as a memory surfaced. Unable to breathe, the panic numbed my body, sinking my feet into the plush carpet. I stood helpless, unable to move, forced to relive the images as they bitch-slapped my mind.

“They’re watching,” I whispered. “They’re all watching.” A familiar humiliation broiled, deep in my gut.

“They’re pack, Andy.” Dylan gripped my hair and threw me to the floor. “They’ll do what I say.”

“Please don’t do this.” I hated the weakness in my voice, how pathetic I’d become, whittled down to a shadow of my former self.

When confronted by a pack of Werewolves not showing or feeling fear was imperative. I’d just failed that test. My scent gave away my emotions, even if my face didn’t. Fuck. The whispers in the room flowed over my body, waking it up and disrupting the vision from going further, to a place I didn’t want to go. Never again. I took a deep breath, then another. I could not allow the memory to control me, not in front of a pack. I lifted my chin and threw my purse on the counter. “Wick, I didn’t get the memo about a pack meeting.”

Wick’s smile flashed across the room. He rose out of his seat and the Weres parted for him to approach me. “It was impromptu.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, his lips quirking as he withdrew.
Was he daring me?

“Nice turnout.”

Wick nodded and turned toward his pack, giving his back to me as a silent testament of his trust. If anyone had thought to challenge me from my show of weakness, they might rethink it now. Wick’s pack observed the exchange in silence—some still growling, some smiling, while others wore unreadable expressions, blank slates. I could only imagine what the internal pack dialogue sounded like. John pinched his nose.

Wick looked over his shoulder. “If you had received the memo?”

Huh? Oh. “I would’ve avoided your house like a sesquipedalian safe word.”

Wick mouthed
sesquipedalian
in confusion before he shook his head in defeat.

“Long, multisyllabic word,” I explained.

Wick’s eyes narrowed. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t show if you knew. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

My eyes snapped to Steve, who sat among the smilers. “You didn’t tell me everything he said, did you?”

Steve had the audacity to wink. That’s one thing I hated about Weres and fellow Shifters. We were superb at telling half-truths and lying by omission.

“Is she the reason we’ve been waiting?” The unfamiliar voice belonged to an attractive woman. A skinny model type dressed in a black lace cocktail dress with four inch heels, she looked a bit out of place amongst the otherwise laid back and casually dressed Weres.

“Shush, Christine. You’re being rude.” Mel spared the bone rack a glance before she waved at me. One of the dressiest people I knew, Mel wore jeans and a tank top. Skinny jeans, probably designer, but more casual than Christine’s outfit.

John had mentioned Christine. So far, not impressed.

Wick cut in when Christine’s look turned venomous. “Yes. She is the reason I wanted you all to wait. Some of you have already met Andy.” Wick gestured to me.

“Lucien’s newest bitch,” Christine grumbled. I gave her my best death stare to let her know I heard. She smirked and looked back at Wick. There was a fevered regard in her gaze.
Oh crap.
I didn’t have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to know what that meant or to figure why she took an instant dislike to me. I needed an obsessed, jealous Werewolf nosing around about as much as a submarine needed a window screen.

“Andy has the protection of the pack,” Wick stated.

Silence. Shocked silence.

“I claim the right to challenge.” Christine’s bold words punctured the quiet room. More than one Were gasped.

Wick frowned. “On what grounds?”

“As alpha female.” Christine stomped her foot.

“Christine,” Wick’s voice turned soft. “Let’s go outside to talk.”

She shook her head, but Wick walked up to her and gently took hold of her arm to steer her out of the room. Rather pointless, if he’d asked me. As Weres, everyone in the room could hear their conversation.

“I’m the alpha female.”

“Christine, you were the incumbent alpha female, if anything.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you deny that I would’ve had the position for good if
she
hadn’t come along.”

My chest panged with stabbing sensations as my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. I didn’t need Dr. Phil around to figure out why. I didn’t like that Wick was with Christine before I came along. Looking at the past with present feelings was never a good idea. My body twitched with jealousy.

“We’re not mated.” Wick interjected Christine’s tirade. “We never were and never will be.”

“We’re mates!” her voice adamant. Several Weres in the room flinched.

“No Christine, we’re not.” The strength of his alpha power laced into the words.

“I’m alpha female.”

“Not anymore.”

“She’s not Were.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s wolf.”

“Let me stay as alpha female. She couldn’t possibly handle the role.” Her voice turned plaintive. Whiney. Embarrassment racked my body on her behalf. If she started groveling or begging, I’d have to break it up. Besides, Wick hadn’t technically claimed me as his mate, although that’s the general assumption, he only gave me the protection of the pack. If I conquered the current alpha female in a challenge though, incumbent or not, that changed things. Christine wasn’t planning on losing; she wanted to put me in my place. The problem for her was I didn’t plan on losing, either.

“That’s not for you to decide.” Wick’s voice took on a new firmness.

“It’s not for you to either. You can’t fight her battles for her.”

Wick stayed silent. As soon as Christine made the point, I started pulling my clothes off. When I heard the click of her heels against the hardwood heading in my direction, I was ready to shift. The other Weres drew back to the edges of the room. Some of them glanced at me, surprised to find me naked. I knew pack dynamics. Either fight for dominance or be a doormat to some Werebitch—throw down or be thrown down. I wasn’t a sub and if I didn’t assert my dominance, some primal part of Christine would continuously drive her to pick a fight with me until the hierarchy could be established.

Christine stalked into the room. “I challenge—” Her eyes widened when she turned in my direction. She didn’t have time to finish her sentence. I pounced.

Weres took longer to shift. She didn’t have time to make the vulnerable transition. I had her pinned on the ground with my jaws clamped around her throat, squeezing hard enough to draw blood. My growl vibrated off the skin on her neck and tickled my mouth, my intentions clear.

“I will not concede.” Her voice strangled against my teeth.

I growled again.

“I will not submit! Either kill me or give me a fair fight, you bitch.” Her voice sounded less sure than her words. She stank of fear, but her pride held strong.

Killing her outright would be the smart thing to do, but Wick’s pack didn’t seem like the kind that fought challenges dirty or to the death. And the ‘fair fight’ dig got to me. I released her throat and backed off. My tail twitched as I waited to see what she would do.

Christine stood up. Her knees wobbled a bit, but she straightened and turned to me. No one helped her. Interesting.

“Fight me as a wolf.”

Dammit. A Werewolf versus Shifter wolf had one clear outcome, and it wasn’t in my favor. But this was pack business. Not the realm of the SRD. I couldn’t fight dirty here and expect any respect.
Did I even want it?
I wanted Wick, but I also wanted to get the fuck out of this situation. Easier to lose respect than earn it. I’d have to fight this dominance battle the hard way.