Shifter Untamed (2 page)

Dane’s blood pressure began to escalate yet again, and he crumbled the document in his palm. In fifteen days, the county court planned to take back the property his mother had worked so hard to keep. It wasn’t fair that the humans could take something like his childhood home where memories lingered long after his parents had perished. It wasn’t fair, but it was the law.

Debra Smyth was the only daughter of a farmer who owned the land in question before she became mated to Dane’s father. When she became pregnant with Dane, they married with blessings from Debra’s father even though a marriage between a shifter and a human was looked on as taboo. Since the land was part of human-marked territories as measured by each U.S. state’s county appraiser’s office, a shifter could not officially own human property unless they were married or mated to one.

When Dane was thirteen, he lost both parents. And because he was a shifter and his parents’ will had never been endorsed, he was faced with losing their marital home. It took the humans seventeen years to dig up the deed and find out that the property wasn’t legally his.

Word in town was that the county wanted it to build an oil well. They were trying to strip the property right out from under him. They didn’t want to offer a fair price for his land…no…they wanted to take it.

And that wasn’t going to happen.

Dane chewed at the inside corner of his mouth as his eyes drifted about the quaint diner and over to the door where customers walked in and out.

He wouldn’t get his pack mates involved and he wouldn’t cause an uprising. This was his personal matter. One that he should’ve taken care of over a decade ago, but now the situation had come back to haunt him.

He had a better plan. A plan that would involve what he’d been avoiding since he was awarded the Alpha position of the Aspen Valley Wolf Pack. Taking a mate.

In all of his thirty years, he’d never met his match. Maybe finding a true mate wasn’t in his future. That was fine with him. He’d just play the cards dealt to him.

One thing was certain, he wanted to keep what rightfully belonged to him. To achieve this, he’d have to marry a human.

In this age, marriage between a human and shifter was considered legit after six weeks, at which time all possessions—including land—were said to be comingled and fair game to claim by either spouse upon divorce.

With marriage he could take a bride, have her sign the documents relinquishing all rights to claim his land, keep her for six weeks, divorce her, and then send her on her merry way. In the end, he’d have his property for good and no humans could claim it.

Trina had a really bad feeling about this, but something told her this opportunity was her only chance. As she moved further into Live nightclub, the beat of the music pulsed through her veins and flares of doubt rose in her chest. The place was extremely packed, which she’d expected given that it was the most popular nightclub in the city. The large crowd helped her blend in with the bodies, but this also served to flare up her anxiety.

But she couldn’t miss this chance.

“We’re hiring night waitresses and we expect to bring six or more on board starting next week. You must be extra easy on the eyes, have experience as a waitress, and wear the uniform we supply…”
the hiring manager had said on the phone when she’d called about the job.

Trina spotted a waitress balancing a tray of cocktails in one hand and using the other hand to take cash and hand out drinks. The beautiful, buxom blonde did this all while maneuvering through the bustling crowd in an outfit so dainty it looked like something an exotic dancer would wear. The suggestive outfit or risqué atmosphere didn’t surprise Trina. When she’d seen the ad in the newspaper, she made the drive to the city to scope out the place. Before she had even called the hiring manager, she knew what she was getting herself into.

“…the starting pay is thirty dollars an hour and you keep all your tips. You push drinks and our merchandise all night long. We have three, six, and eight hour shifts here. You set your schedule but you must come to work at least three nights a week.”

Where else could she earn thirty dollars an hour working part time just a few nights a week? The money would be quick and easy, just like an old friend who used to pole dance to pay her college tuition told her. If Trina got the job and kept up the work for five months, she could make enough to pay for the majority of her father’s next surgery. To make up the difference, she was certain profits from the business would kick in.

It seemed to take Trina forever to get through the swarm of bodies to the back office where the security guard told her to wait in line to meet Leo, the hiring manager. As soon as she made it, she realized that she wasn’t the only one waiting to be interviewed. There were four women lined up, two of them leaning against the wall, and the other two standing with arms crossed, looking impatiently. They were young women, around her age group, with one of them looking at least a decade younger than Trista. As the fifth woman, Trina took her place.

The leggy redhead in front of her turned and sneered. After looking Trina up and down, she wrinkled her nose and then snapped her attention forward again in a dismissive manner. The redhead was thin and couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds, but Trina had to admit the girl had good genes going for her with her dainty model looks.

Trina knew she was taller than the average women and preferred to carry a little cushion versus walking around covered in just skin and bones. She wondered exactly what Leo would measure them on.

She nibbled her lips as she suddenly realized that she’d have competition. There were only six positions available, as Leo had said, and she was sure this wasn’t the first set of interviews. Aside from the short time she’d worked as a waitress at a small restaurant when she was in college, she didn’t have that much concrete experience. What would she do now? Boast about her high SAT scores, stellar GPA, and marketing degree to win the job?

Trina sighed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

A blue postcard tacked to a bulletin board above her head caught her attention. Her eyes zoned in on the HELP WANTED title. “Bachelor Looking For Temporary Wife,” it read. “Marriage union will last six weeks and three days. Temporary wife will be compensated fairly. Money is negotiable and payable in installments. Marriage for convenience only. No other duties required.”

A telephone number was written at the bottom, but there was no name.

What type of man would place an ad like that? Better yet, how desperate could one get to propose something like this?

She swallowed as her cognizance told her that seeking employment at an adult entertainment club was no better and maybe slightly worse than putting up an ad in search of a temporary wife. Her own desperation for money had led her here.

The door to the office opened and a slim, attractive woman stepped out. Trina plucked the card from the board and stuck it down into her jeans pocket.

“Ladies,” the woman said, walking down the hallway assessing each one of them up. “Thank you for being on time. I’m Brenda, Leo’s assistant, and will be interviewing you first. There are two interviews. One with me, and if you pass that we will consider you for round two.”

Trina’s instinct told her that Brenda was a shifter. No ordinary human had eyes the color of brass. Sometimes you could recognize the shifters by sight, mannerisms, but sometimes you couldn’t recognize them at all since they were so well adapted to human ways.

“I’ve worked at one of Leo’s sister clubs,” the redhead stated, smacking and blowing on her gum. “Do I still need to go through all this?”

Brenda pursed her lips and her eyes twitched as though she seemed disturbed about being interrupted. “If you want to get hired again, you go through the same steps.” She returned the front of the line. “To the right, there is a dressing room with dozens of clean uniforms. Take your pick. Once you’re dressed, meet me back here. Your first interview begins now…on the job.”

Trina’s mouth widened before she could stop herself. Was Brenda suggesting that they start the job as part of the interview process…like now?

No one—except for the redhead—moved in the direction of the dressing room.

“Um…
now
.” Brenda placed her hands on her hips and stared at them. “What are we waiting for? Here’s the first test: you have fifteen minutes to get ready. Now go.”

Trina stared at the woman in disbelief. She had to bite her tongue to keep from protesting. After all, this wasn’t all about her. She needed the money for her father’s surgery.

****

“I’m just saying,” Dane said, turning in his chair slightly to give his brother a warning look, “lay off the raids for a bit. When you attack blindly with no lead-ins—”

Brock met his stare, baring his canines. “What do you mean, blindly? We have humans in high positions of authorities whose aim is to destroy us. They’ve hidden behind all these little guys too long.”

“And it’s the little guys that you’ve been attacking.”

“Small steps will lead me to the big guys,” Brock replied.

“Both shifters and humans are talking to the cops about possible pack retaliation. I’ve warned our people and have been in contact with other Alphas from at least nine surrounding packs about watching their backs…especially those of our women and children. Just take caution, brother. Let’s not get caught up in a mess before we can nail this creep.”

Brock growled. “Or creeps.”

A string of murders involving shifters from Dane’s pack and other surrounding packs was what sparked their outrage. After evidence surrounding the incidents was either destroyed or swept under the rug by investigators, Alphas and commanders from all the surrounding packs began to take matters into their own hands.

It was disheartening to learn that someone wanted them out of the picture for good and would resort to killing them by cornering them like dogs and then shooting at point-blank range.

Dane’s fingers gripped the arms of the chair as his blood grew hot just thinking about the travesty. He took several shallow breaths to try to calm his composure and looked out at the swarm of gyrating body’s on the dance floor of Live nightclub.

The shifter woman standing behind him kneaded his shoulders firmly. The massage was relaxing, but every time he and his brother disagreed on an issue or brought up a rather touchy subject, the tension would return. It was no mystery why Brock had picked this place to meet up. The blaring rock music matched his brother’s irritation and the call girls he’d ordered to keep them company while they talked served as a mild diversion to the situation.

Just as Dane opened his mouth again to speak, a waitress entered their section with a selection of cocktails on her tray. She wasn’t the same waitress who’d been serving them all along. This was a different one. She was
very
human. Very innocent looking. Very…very attractive. When he caught her fresh floral scent, his mouth began to water for more than just the beverages.

Dane sat straight up in his chair as she came to pause in front of her table. There was a tightening in the center of his chest and pulsing in his groin that he couldn’t cease. He’d had his share, so it wasn’t likely to have such a reaction to one of the call girls walking around under the guise of a waitress. Something was different about this one…

The woman kept her eyes on the ground and he caught a whiff of panic from the tempting scent she was giving off. Right off the bat, he could tell that she was new. Leo liked to hire them fresh, with no experience. It kept the males coming back for more since the pickings were varied night after night.

Goddammit!
He hadn’t come here tonight to satisfy his lust. He came to talk business.

She had relatively long hair, deep brown, either pulled back or braided. He couldn’t quite see from her angle. Tendrils hung against her face and some of it even stuck to her temples where she’d perspired a bit. The black mini dress she wore clung to her like a stocking and the wide belt cinched in her small waist. Her legs appeared incredibly long as she balanced her weight on what looked like four-inch heels. He couldn’t see her eyes because thick black lashes hid them completely, and she had yet to look up at any of them.

“Miss, we don’t do fruity drinks over here,” Brock burst out.

To Dane’s surprise, the woman looked up with striking hazel eyes and gave his brother a death stare. Fuck, she was beautiful…even when she seemed to take offense to Brock’s outburst.

“Cut it out,” Dane said under his breath, hoping his bold brother didn’t cause a scene he’d regret later on.

“I take orders too.” She smiled sweetly. “Would you like another round of what you have?”

“Scotch,” Brock said. “Straight.”

The woman licked her lips and her gaze flickered on Dane for only a second. “And you?”

“Your name?”

“Excuse me?” She looked up with a blank stare.

“Give me your name,” he said, slowly this time.

Her nose wrinkled as though she’d misunderstood his request. There was something quite not right about her. Sure, she looked the part, but she damn sure didn’t act the part of a call girl…and her next statement proved this.

“No,” she said, flatly. “But can I get you a drink?”

Dane’s head reeled back in shock and he ignored Brock’s chuckle beside him. He swallowed. Although he hated accepting no for an answer, he decided that it was most appropriate in this case. “I’ll take the cocktail on the right.”

He watched carefully as she slid the drink across the table to him. Her nails were cut short and painted a barely there pink color. Her hands and wrists were small and dainty. Her full, lush breasts pushed against her top as she leaned in.

He slipped a Benjamin between her fingers. “Thank you.” The pads of his digits glided along the top her hand as he pulled back. Her skin was soft and he longed to take her hand.

A heated blush reddened her face and neck. She averted her gaze once again. “I’ll be back with the scotch.”