Lycan Alpha Claim (#2) Read online

“Eff-that, you're going! I just wanted to spread the gory gossip.”

  “That's kinda sick, you know.”

  Michelle nodded vigorously, she knew.

  I sighed. There was no getting out of it once Michelle had her mind set. And, in my soul... if I didn't get a break from this job and do something out-of-body, I'd scream.

  “I gotcha talked right into it, don't I?” Her eyes sparkled.

  “I guess but, we need to be careful, especially now,” I said in a conspirator’s whisper.

  “Hell, I'm more worried about the regular guys.”

  “Were the women... you know, was there blood... there?” I asked.

  She spun back around, her skirt twirling a little with the motion. “That's the major weird thing, they had all been bitten, but still had their blood. Only a pint gone.”

  Well, wasn't that just comforting.

  Michelle winked as she sauntered off, hips swaying. “Pick ya up at seven sharp.”

  She didn't wait for me to respond. Michelle knew she had me, hook, line and sinker.

  I gathered up all my stuff, slipped my heels back on my feet and headed for the door.

  Unfortunately, my dragon lady of a boss was blocking my way.

  “Miss Collins, I see you're ready to leave.” She looked at her behemoth of a wristwatch. “Two minutes after five.” She raised a humongous unibrow at me and I stifled a giggle. It was hard to be pissed at her when she looked so ridiculous.

  Almost.

  “Yes. That's traditionally when the work day ends for us here, Ms. Hogan,” I replied, thinking with mild irritation that Hogan had me by the short hairs. She knew I needed the job, she couldn't lambast me for leaving when the work day was through, technically. But... she liked to make me feel diminished for leaving so close to the chiming of the clock.

  Hogan looked me over from head to toe, taking in my long black hair, so deep a black it had blue highlights in the right light. My eyes were a pale blue, I was shapely but not skinny, and on the tall side. I didn't consider myself a hot number but I held my own. Hogan, on the other hand looked like she was always trolling for a new bridge.

  I had discreetly pressed my elbow into the elevator button and it dinged just as she opened her mouth to mention something else equally unimportant, her jowls swinging as she popped her mouth open then closed it again.

  I felt my escape portal open at my back and walked backwards into its gaping mouth, never more glad to be out of mortar range of the enraged cow, aka my boss.

  She glowered at me, starting to waddle forward and I blurted out, “Have a great weekend!” The door swept closed in front of me.

  I did a mental forehead-wipe. Thank God I was out of there.

  As the elevator descended I prepared myself for the onslaught of cold weather, my car would need at least five minutes to heat up. The days were long here in the north and heating my car in the underground parking garage was just part of what we did in Alaska.

  The elevator doors hissed apart and the cold air swept into the tight space, momentarily stealing my breath. I huddled my full length coat around myself, silently wishing the car was already warm. I rushed out of the elevator's cocoon of heat, my heels making clicking sounds on the concrete as I made my way to my car. If you could call it that.

  As I approached I knew my car stood out, it was a Smart Car and Michelle liked to tease and say it was a toaster that I drove, not a real car. I smiled, she had me there.

  I fumbled with my keys, finally yanking my glove off with my teeth, groaning as the cold air assaulted my fingertips, making them instantly numb.

  “Hey, Rachel,”

  I dropped my keys on the ground, spinning, my hand to my heart.

  It was Erik, a guy from work. My shoulders slumped in relief. He scared the shit out of me.

  “Scare you?” he smiled.

  I smiled back tentatively. He had really been pursuing me and I wasn't that interested. I couldn't put my finger on it exactly but there was just something off about him.

  Erik approached me and I stiffened a little, but he bent over, jerking the keys off the ground and put a finger through the loop of my key fob and hung them off his finger in front of my nose.

  I tried to snatch them and he yanked them just out of reach.

  “Meet me for dinner,” he stated, his eyes steady on my face, disconcerting.

  “Ah... Michelle and I are going out tonight,” I said, trying to distract him.

  “Rain check?” he pressed, never stopping his eye contact. I was starting to get nervous.

  Damn.

  I resisted the supreme urge to look around, seeing if there was anyone else. But there wasn't, I could feel the absence of others. I sure wasn't short on woman’s intuition. Just another creepy service we offer, I thought, getting the heebie-jeebies.

  I closed my coat tighter around me and his eyes tracked the movement, a smile spreading on his face. “I'll let you go, I know you have plans.” But his face told another tale. I didn't think he'd forget my rebuff anytime soon.

  I held my hands out and I was happy to notice that they weren't shaking. He'd really put me in a creeped out mood and I wasn't happy about it.

  He dropped the keys into my cupped hands and smiled again, tipping an imaginary hat.

  I turned after his back was to me and stabbed the key into the lock, opening the door in one movement I slid behind the wheel, slapping the flat of my palm on the lock after it closed. I heard the simultaneous click in the silence of the car and let the breath out I didn't realize I'd been holding.

  Holy-hell.

  I turned on the car and stewed for the five minutes, all the while wishing I could have driven off.

  That encounter with Erik had put a bad taste in my mouth. Like diet pop, but somehow worse.

  I pulled out of the bowels of the building, the night as black as when the day started. I entered traffic and began the drive to my condo, almost in the heart of downtown.

  I couldn't wait to be home.

  I threw my lights on, and glancing right then left I was so startled that I almost let my foot off the brake into opposing traffic.

  Erik sat behind the wheel of his car. He'd having sat there the entire time... waiting for me.

  I gunned it at the first hole in traffic that appeared. What a whacko!

  I'd have to tell Michelle he was a nut-job. She'd have him cracked in no time.

  ****

  I had my head thrown back and my lips parted, the last swipe of mascara almost perfect... there! I stood back and looked at my reflection: definitely not work attire. I was so glad I made the decision to not perk up the whole mess with just a new top. Michelle probably would have flogged me if I had anyway. She'd be dressed-to-kill (as usual). I needed to make an effort. Sometimes, I wondered why I bothered. Michelle would go, shine, get picked-up, bang some anonymous stud in the bathroom or wherever, and I would sip my drink wishing I could go home and curl up with a book. I sighed. That's okay. She was... my vicarious slutty friend. And I loved her.

  I grabbed my vanilla body spray and squirted a last dab. If I got to dancing a lot, I'd be glad I wore it. It was frigid outside but once we were inside Spinners, with all the bodies packed in there, it'd be a different story.

  I heard the doorknob jiggle and caught sight of Michelle coming through the doorway looking delectable in her slut suit. She twirled for me so I could get the full effect.

  “That should be illegal!” I nearly screamed. She had a micro-mini on that was two part: it cupped her ass and was barely legal (skimming the indecent exposure laws by a millimeter). It was hot pink, setting off her platinum hair to perfection. She “helped” the color of said hair, but not by a lot. Michelle was a rare thing up here in the frozen north and I was betting that it was her coloring that got her so much attention, and the boobs... and the outfits. And, and....

  I smiled as she circled me like a shark, gauging my potential for Attracting the Opposite Sex.

  “I don't know... is
this the shortest skirt you have?” Her brows closed the distance between her eyes.

  I self-consciously ran my hand over my short black skirt, it barely covered the lace of my thigh-highs... a gorgeous pair that I had splurged on from Italy.

  “Yeah, I can't go much shorter without the lace tops showing.”

  Michelle gave me a blank look. “Seriously, that's part of the allure.”

  “Ah... no. I say let them guess. It is underwear after all.”

  “I say show it!” Michelle said.

  “Mystery,” I replied.

  She threw her hand up. “Whatever, I give up. At least you did right by the top.”

  I had almost not worn it, it was a scorching crimson and showed off my raven hair, my eyes stranded like startled jewels in my pale face. It left my arms bare and was tucked inside the skirt.

  Michelle allowed her glance to linger a moment longer on my outfit, then shook her head as we walked out. I gave a quick pet to Caesar the cat and waltzed out.

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  Acknowledgments

  I published The Druid Series in 2011 and Death Whispers in the same year with the encouragement of my husband, and continued because of you, my Reader. Your faithfulness through comments, suggestions, spreading the word and ultimately purchasing my work with your hard-earned money gave me the incentive, means and inspiration to continue.

  There are no words that are sufficiently adequate to express my thankfulness for your support. But know this: TDS novellas continued past HARVEST only because of you.

  I truly feel connected to my readers. It is obvious to me, but I'll say the words anyway for clarity: a written work is just words on pages if they are not read by my readers. As I write this I get a lump in my throat; your enjoyment of my work affects me that deeply.

  You guys are the greatest, each and every one of ya~

  Marata (Tamara) xo

  Special Thanks:

  You, my reader.

  My husband, who is my biggest fan.

  Cameren, without whom, there would be no books.

  About the Author

  Marata Eros (the pen name for Tamara Rose Blodgett) is the author of over seventy titles, including her New York Times bestselling novel, A Terrible Love, and the #1 international bestselling erotic Interracial, and African-American TOKEN serial. Marata writes a variety of dark fiction in the genres of erotica, fantasy, horror, romance, sci-fi and suspense. She lives in South Dakota with her family, and enjoys interacting with her readers.

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