Reaching Grace, who was cursing “shit, shit, shit” at the frying pan—the woman tended to say “shit” a lot—Jaime gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you later.” As she walked through the network of tunnels to retrieve her backpack from her room, she again found herself marveling at how smooth the light sandstone walls were. The pack lived in caves that had been hollowed out and made into one giant home. Although the ancient dwellings had been modernized over the years, she’d still imagined that it would have a Stone Age appearance. She certainly hadn’t expected the contemporary look, the luxury carpeting, or the solid oak and pine modern furniture. Maybe she should have, though, considering that Lydia—who was a graphic designer—liked anything even remotely creative and she had insisted on decorating the interior.
Taryn liked to call it “Bedrock,” which was why she often called Trey “Flintstone.” Once she had her backpack, Jaime headed outside, descended the smooth stairways that were carved into the cliff face, and entered the concealed parking lot. Finally in her Chevy, she left pack territory—waving to baby-faced Cam, Lydia’s mate, who was guarding the security gate—and drove to the dog sanctuary where she’d worked since she was sixteen.
All the dogs there had been rescued from abusive environments and were so traumatized they couldn’t be rehomed. In a lot of cases, dogs like these would be put down, particularly if they were too wild. This was one of the reasons Jaime worked there most mornings each week—she could relate to them in a way that she could never do with a shifter.
Twenty minutes later she arrived at the sanctuary. After swapping her jeans and T-shirt for navy coveralls in one of the changing rooms, she left her backpack in her locker and made her way over to the section of the sanctuary where she worked. There was a lot involved in the running and upkeep of the sanctuary, but Jaime’s role was to take care of twenty dogs—all of whom she had come to adore.
Squatting beside one of the outdoor dog cages and cooing over a group of German shepherd puppies were two of her coworkers and close friends. They were the only people other than her brother who knew of her secret.
“Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?” exclaimed Riley, a white-lioness shifter, as she noticed Jaime approaching.
Yeah, Dante. Jaime quickly expelled that thought from her mind, thankful she hadn’t said it aloud.
“You’re late again,” chastised Ivy, but the witch’s tone was playful. “Thank you for finally joining us.”
“Yeah, well, promptness is a quality of the boring.”
In response to a series of beeps, Riley dug her cell from her pocket. Instantly her heart-shaped face reddened, making her white-blonde hair look even lighter.
“A text from Aidan?” Ivy asked cautiously.
“Yes, it was the wild ox himself,” confirmed Riley bitterly.
“So you’re not letting him talk you into giving him another chance.” Ivy’s comment wasn’t so much a question as a suggestion.
“Hell no.”
“Good. Want me to do a little magick and make him impotent?” Ivy’s expression was hopeful.
“I was thinking more along the lines of giving him a sexually transmitted disease.”
“That sounds good.”
Riley nudged Ivy, smiling. “Did you tell Jaime what you did to your cheating ex?”
“What?” Jaime knew it would be good. Ivy was a great person, but she had a ruthless streak when it came to guys. It was no surprise really. Ivy was a unique type of witch—she was a Siren, but not the mythical version who sat on rocks and made sailors drown. Sirens like Ivy used their powerful singing voices to entrance and bewitch. Also, they oozed sex and sensuality, drawing males to them.
Ivy resented that guys were so mesmerized by her surface beauty that they didn’t look any further. It wasn’t often that she chanced having a relationship. If the guy repaid her by crossing her…it was never good.
Ivy’s expression was all innocence. “I kind of put him into a deep sleep while I shaved him from head to toe, paying special attention to his back, sack, and crack.” Typical Ivy, Jaime thought. “What did he do when he woke up?”
“He was pretty angry and did a lot of yelling, but it was hard to take him seriously when he looked like a mannequin. It was a shame, really. He was a cougar shifter and, well, you know that rumor that male feline shifters are extremely good at o*al s*x because of the slight roughness of their tongues? Those rumors have substance.”
“I know that from experience, too.” Riley shook her head, looking pained. “We need to stop all this talk about guys and sex, it’s making me horny.”
“Me too.” Ivy flicked her raven-black hair over her shoulder, and Jaime again found herself wishing her own hair was that glossy. Jaime had been told enough times that her hair was sleek and radiant, but Ivy’s was something else altogether—it seemed to shimmer and reflect. Depending on how the light hit it, her hair could even appear violet. “It really is time that we did something about our hungry libidos.”
Jaime nodded. “Definitely, especially since I’ve given up on Dante.” Ivy and Riley both gasped. Although neither knew him, they’d heard Jaime talk about him often enough.
“You’re admitting defeat?” Ivy shook her head incredulously. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you give up on anything.”
“There’s giving up, and there’s salvaging self-respect.” She told them about the conversation she’d overheard between him and Trick.
“What an ass,” said Ivy.
“Then we definitely need a night out,” declared Riley, “particularly since I’ve practically abused BOB.”
“BOB?” prodded Ivy.
“Battery-Operated Boyfriend. Don’t you have one?”
“Sure. I call mine Jack Hammer. What about you, Jaime?”
“I call mine my Funny Bone.”
Ivy burst out laughing. “I like that one. Anyway, poor Jack Hammer needs a break. How about we go to Enigma this weekend?”
Enigma was a local club that was exclusive to preternaturals. Humans were not admitted, because in this particular club, sexual contact wasn’t prohibited. Preternatural beings were casual—
although not flippant—about sex. In their culture, two people enjoying intimacy was a beautiful, natural, very basic thing and answered their primal need for touch—social and sexual. There was always an exchange of respect and pleasure. Humans didn’t always understand shifter culture and sometimes became uncomfortable or offended when a shifter attempted to touch them intimately. It had caused a lot of problems in the past, so most shifter clubs didn’t allow humans to enter.
“I say Operation Calm Libido should commence Saturday night.” Riley turned to Jaime. “What do you think?”
“Saturday night at Enigma it is,” drawled Jaime. “Until then, we wear out our vibrators and dream about rough tongues.”
Ivy smiled. “Ooh, good plan.”
With that agreed on, Jaime, Ivy, and Riley went inside the building to get to work. There were cages on both sides of a long aisle. The din was horrendous: dogs howling, barking, growling, and whining. Jaime couldn’t help feeling sorry for the animals stuck there, confused and frightened. All workers were asked to wear ear protectors, which didn’t drown out the noise or hinder conversations with coworkers, but made it so that the din didn’t cause harm to their eardrums.
As was routine, Jaime spent the next few hours taking her dogs one-by-one from their cages to place them in the pen outside while she took out all the old, dirty newspaper from their cages, and rinsed and cleaned the floor. She then placed fresh newspaper, food, and water into the cages before bringing the dogs back inside.
She had a soft spot for all of them, but one in particular plucked at her heartstrings: Ben, a small, thin mongrel with sandy fur, who, as always, was curled up in the corner of his cage, shaking and shivering. He was, as her brother would have described his state, a nervous wreck. Once she was done cleaning all the cages, she sat on the fresh bedding beside the dog and stroked him lightly, talking softly about…well…nothing really. Within minutes he clambered onto her lap, curling up again, while she continued running her hand through his coarse fur.
“You spoil him.” Hearing that familiar deep voice, she looked up to see one of the other workers, Shawn. Although he was dressed in an old, filthy tracksuit, he somehow made it work, looking as strikingly cute as always.
“Yeah, well, it breaks my heart seeing him like that.” She carefully slid the sleeping, sandy dog onto the floor and got to her feet.
“Since your shift is over, I came to ask if you wanted to go for lunch.” God, this guy was tenacious. No matter how many times she had declined, he still asked her out at least once a week. Once upon a time—over five years ago—they’d had a brief fling. He was a nice guy, he was good looking, and her wolf happened to like him. As such, the brief fling might not have been so brief if it hadn’t been for one thing…Shawn was human.
She had nothing against humans, but having anything more than a fling with them wasn’t recommended. Their culture was totally different, so they couldn’t understand the draw or importance of a true mate bond, and as such they weren’t too good at stepping aside if the shifter with whom they’d been in a relationship suddenly discovered a mate. It had led to a lot of brawls in the past—no one should try getting in between mates. Then those “Die Demons” groups got involved, using the incidents as evidence that shifters were abominations and needed to be killed, blah, blah, blah.
Whatfreakingever.
At present, none of that was going to be a problem for Jaime, because even if she found the person who was the other half of her soul, she wouldn’t want to mate with him. Because of her problems with her wolf, there was simply no way Jaime could form that metaphysical link with her mate without risking his life, and that wasn’t something she was prepared to do.
But maybe a brief fling with someone wouldn’t be such a bad thing, she thought as she looked again at Shawn. It wasn’t like he would expect anything from her that she wasn’t able to give. He knew the score, and he certainly knew what he was doing in the bedroom. There was a problem, though. Shawn was on the rebound. Sure, it would only be a fling, so it wasn’t really a big deal, but would it be fair for them to have a fling while they both pined for others? That wasn’t to say she couldn’t spend a little time with him and see if nature eventually took its course, right? She wasn’t the type of girl to be put off by the itty-bitty fact that he was so boring a boomerang wouldn’t go back to him. It was actually kind of endearing.
“Sure, we can do lunch, but just as friends,” she insisted as she locked Ben’s cage. “For now.
You’re still on the rebound, and I’m barely in the process of moving on from someone.” Someone she hadn’t even been dating—how pathetic was that?
Smiling, he nodded. “For now. Maybe what we both need most right now is an uncomplicated friendship anyway.” Twenty minutes later they were in Mo’s Diner. No sooner had Jaime and Shawn placed their orders than the door opened and in strode the object of her dirtiest—okay, most sinful—
fantasies. As usual, he looked dauntless, sharp, capable, and so freaking hot she hitched in a breath.
His dominant, confident, purposeful walk shouldn’t have been so damn attractive, considering it bordered on cocky, but it heated her blood and roused her wolf. Jaime would bet he was just as dominant and capable in bed, would bet—
No, no more pining!
The voice was right. Returning her focus to Shawn, Jaime smiled brightly at him and wished to God that her body was having this reaction to him instead of to the cocky jerk on the other side of the diner. Groan.
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m guessing by your amused smile that you haven’t called for this meeting to defend Glory’s honor,” Dante said to Nick after he, Tao, Trick, and Marcus had all exchanged respectful nods with Nick, his Beta, his bodyguard, and Head Enforcer.
“No,” said Nick once they were all seated at the long table. “Not only does Glory make a habit of telling tales, but I think I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t walk away from your mate.” Although his posture was casual, Dante knew there was nothing relaxed about Nick Axton.
Power seemed to hum around him, coiled in his muscles as if ready to strike at the slightest signal.
Nick didn’t have Trey’s menacing air or unapproachability, but he had an indomitable look about him that could unnerve people. Darkness lurked in his sharp green eyes, almost stained them. They were the eyes of someone who had seen many things he hadn’t wanted to see.
Each of them ordered coffee, and Marcus—apparently still hungry—also ordered a burger.
“As you’ve probably guessed, I can’t, and won’t, let what she’s done slide,” he told Nick. “A false claim is a serious thing, and no shifter would tolerate it. Having said that, I do acknowledge that, as her Alpha, you have a right to deal with her. So the question is, are you willing to order her to stop spouting this false claim, or do I need to get involved?”
Nick was quiet for a moment. “I’ve already spoken at length with Glory. She claims that she was mistaken, which we all know is a load of bullshit. She has been punished appropriately and ordered to cease making a claim on you. But I can’t do anything about her brothers. They all mated into different packs, so I have no control over whether they come after you for supposedly abandoning her.”