Southern Alpha Book Two (Southern Alpha Serial 2) Page 4

  I turned to him at last and stared at his profile, at the hair falling unevenly around his sculpted face. Damn, why did he have to be so sexy? Why couldn’t I find him repugnant and annoying and horrible, instead of hot and alluring?

  “Don’t you think I’m the best judge of what I need protection from?” I asked. “I mean, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to pull this macho-guy bullshit on me and act like you need to save me from who you really are. That’s a cheap man-tactic. It’s a way to avoid getting tangled up in feelings.”

  “Fine then,” he snarled. “I’m a douche who doesn’t want to get my feelings hurt and who conceals that behind a wall of coldness. Is that better?” With that, he pulled a hand away from the steering wheel, curled it into a fist and pressed it into the truck’s ceiling like he was contemplating turning his Ford F150 into a convertible.

  “No,” I said miserably. “You’re not a douche. You’re just hiding something from me.”

  He turned to me, his blue irises blazing in the darkness. “I’m hiding a lot from you,” he told me. “I’m hiding who it was who nearly burned your leg off tonight. I’m hiding what his hell-hounds really were. I’m hiding my true nature. I’m hiding secrets that this city doesn’t want you to know. If I were to tell you everything…”

  “Then what?” I asked. “You’d have to kill me?”

  I couldn’t help but smile at my stupid joke, but Trick’s lips only turned down into a scowl. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  I let out a cynical laugh, pushed myself back in my seat and crossed my arms. “This is ridiculous. New Orleans is just another town when you get down to it. It’s not full of dark mystery and magic. That’s stuff you all push to draw in gullible tourists. Only, you guys have just brainwashed yourselves in the process.”

  “Fine, I’m brainwashed. Fuck, I’d rather you think of me as a dumb brainwashed sheep who was a jerk to you in a manufactured tourist town, but at least he dropped you off safe at home.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Jesus, stop saying that.”

  “Fine.”

  When he pulled up in front of my apartment on Decatur Street, Trick unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “Don’t worry about helping me to the door,” I told him, my tone icy enough to freeze fire. “I can walk.”

  “You sure?”

  I wasn’t sure at all, but I nodded all the same. I couldn’t look at him anymore. For some reason, I felt like I was saying goodbye forever to someone who’d come to mean the world to me. I didn’t even know his last name, but still, my heart felt like it had opened up tonight, then gotten trampled by the hooves of a hundred angry stallions.

  “Yep,” I replied, moving to open my door. “I’m sure.”

  “Sierra…” For some reason, Trick reached out and laid his right hand on top of my left before I had a chance to climb out of his truck. He squeezed ever so gently, sending a shiver through me that made my anger want to melt away.

  “Hmm?” I turned to look at him, which turned out to be a big mistake. He was so damned gorgeous, so unrelentingly sexy, whatever his expression. Even right now, when he was utterly unreadable, all I wanted was to kiss him. To delve into the sweeping sensation that had overtaken me earlier. To feel his arms around me and somehow absorb his essence.

  “I just want—I need you to know—that I meant what I said earlier. I really do—did—want you.” He pulled his eyes away to stare at something far off. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was leading you on.”

  Did. He did want me. What, so he didn’t anymore?

  That was hardly a compliment.

  “Yeah? Well, I wanted you, too,” I said, prying open the door and shoving myself out. “But I guess things have a way of changing, don’t they?” He looked over at me like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. “Bye, Trick,” I said at last.

  I stepped out of the truck, onto the running board, and hopped down to the ground. As I pushed the door shut, the thinnest gossamer thread tying me and Trick to one another seemed to snap, sending me reeling into an abyss. The pain of it was far worse than any agony that a burn could inflict.

  I walked up to my place, unlocked the front door and pushed it open, a lump forming in my throat. Behind me, the low growl of the pickup’s engine crescendoed to a roar, then the truck surged off. When I turned to look, it was rounding the corner with a screech of tires.

  Swallowing a sob, I confronted the truth.

  Trick couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

  Chapter 5

  Trick

  I tore down the road away from Sierra, telling myself over and over again that I was doing the right thing.

  Let her go.

  If not for your sake, then for hers.

  It was the cruelest mantra I’d ever inflicted on my own heart.

  As much as my man-parts wanted her, I had no business thinking about getting involved with a human. Not now, and probably not ever. I’d seen the problems it had caused other shifters. Tristan Wolfe, for one. Word on the street was that the Seven were out for his head because he’d made the mistake of falling for a human. Of course, he’d been on their shit-list a lot longer than I had. Tristan had some long-standing feud with the Seven that I didn’t even begin to understand.

  As for Sierra and me, all I knew was that even one night with her would have been sheer stupidity, considering that I was trying to find a way to gain control over a wolf pack that had become increasingly scattered since our last Alpha had died.

  I could feel my resolve taking hold. Yes. I’d done the right thing by driving her home. I was a fucking saint, enduring a severe case of blue balls as I had. All for the greater good.

  But even as the distance increased between Sierra and me, I could feel the hole that had opened up somewhere in my chest growing bigger, deeper. Only now was I realizing that the chasm in my chest had always been there—the only thing that had changed was just that Sierra had sealed it up for a few hours.

  She’d completed me for a little while, shown me what it was to feel whole. But now her absence was reminding me how hollowed-out I’d always been.

  How reluctant I was to get close to anyone.

  Some part of me knew without a doubt that I’d found my mate tonight. I’d felt it in the marrow of my bones. We were meant to be together, and it was one of fate’s greatest jokes that I couldn’t have her. Maybe the worst part was that I couldn’t even explain to her why we couldn’t be together. Not telling her the whole truth had hurt her…but telling her the whole truth might get her killed.

  So all I could do now was try to forget I’d ever met her. But how the hell was I supposed to forget that face, that voice, that scent? Even if my human side could, the wolf inside me had already grown attached the beautiful woman whose eyes had shone so bright in the moonlight. I could still smell her on my skin, could still feel the gentle touch of her fingers combing through my hair.

  Most of all, I felt the inextricable pull of her mind and body on my own.

  I wanted so badly to tell myself that somehow, I’d see her again. But the same thought that was keeping me going—the thought of being with her—was also slowly killing me.

  Stop thinking about her. You know you can’t have her. Why torture yourself?

  I needed to focus on something else, so I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket and barked out an order to call Louis. When he picked up after a few rings, a swell of relief swept through my chest.

  “You okay, man?” I asked.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’m back at home. The Marquis and his band of merry turds left a little after you did. I guess he figured they got the better of you or something.”

  “Good. It’s for the best if they think that,” I growled. “If the fuckers think I’m weak, it’ll give me an advantage.”

  “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Louis answered, his voice measured and cautious. “The Marquis is pretty confident. By the
way, he told me to give you a message.”

  “Of course he did. Should I even ask what it was?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Just tell me,” I said, wincing.

  “He said that he’s issuing an official challenge. He wants to begin the Trials on Tuesday. He wants the target portion to happen first, then the hunt, then combat. Not sure why chose that order.”

  I ground my jaw for a few seconds before replying. “He has the right to challenge and pick the order,” I said. “Chances are that he’s picking his weakest event first. He knows he has to shoot in human form, and he knows I’m younger and stronger. My aim is probably better.”

  “Your aim’s the best in all the parishes,” Louis said. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Until we get into the real competition,” I said. “When he’s in his wolf form, he’s a fucking terror.”

  “So are you.”

  “True. But I’m not fucking insane.”

  “You raise a good point. I guess you’re screwed.” Louis let out a snicker that made me wish I were close enough to punch him. “Anyhow, I’m glad you called. Is Sierra okay?” he asked, wisely changing the subject. “From where I was standing, it looked like she might have taken a hit from one of those flame bombs.”

  “She did, but she’s fine. I put some of Lola’s salve on the burn and gave her some of my homemade brew.”

  “Oh God, tell me you’re joking. That motor oil of yours is disgusting. Why would you inflict that shit on such an attractive woman?”

  “I was trying to make her feel better.”

  “Drinking petroleum by-products doesn’t make people feel better, Trick. It makes their internal organs melt.”

  “Hey, man. My bathtub brew isn’t that bad.”

  “Yeah, it is. So, is she still with you?”

  I clammed up for a second, hesitant to say anything too revealing. “Why would she be with me?” I asked.

  “Um, I don’t know. Maybe because you got in your truck with her and drove away? I figured you were looking after her at your place.”

  “I was, but she wanted to go home, so I dropped her off at her place.”

  “Uh-huh.” The two syllables were filled with not-so-hidden meaning. “Sounds to me like the night was a little more complicated than a bit of innocent first aid and a drive.”

  “Nothing happened,” I told him, knowing perfectly well how big a lie it was.

  “Trick.”

  “Louis.”

  “Did you and she…did you…”

  “Stop right there,” I ordered before he could go any further. “You know I can’t be with her.”

  “Why the fuck not? She likes you, it was obvious from the start. She’s great. I got a chance to get to know her a bit in the Undercroft. You should totally be with her, man. Have some fun for once, instead of isolating yourself in that old-man shack of yours.”

  “There are a million reasons not to get together with a human, Louis. You know that. For one thing, the Trials. For another, she can’t know what you and I are.”

  On his end of the phone, Louis let out a grunt. “Wow. Those are both shitty excuses. Let’s see, for one thing, you’ll probably do better in the Trials if you poke your meat tube into someone’s muffin and get rid of the urges that are clogging up your brain. For another damn thing, it’s not like a shifter’s never had a human lover before.”

  “Shifters who are vying for Alpha don’t seek out human mates just before their Trials. It’s common damn sense.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn’t worry about that, and worry about your priorities. Getting close to Sierra might give you something to fight for when the time comes.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked as I scratched at my stubble, making a note to shave tomorrow. Or today. Or whatever the hell this was.

  “I’m saying maybe if you had something pushing you—something that excited you in this miserable world—you’d fight harder for what’s right. Come on, Trick, we both know your sole motivation in going for Alpha is to show the Marquis who’s boss. Maybe you should fight for something bigger than that.”

  “Are you seriously telling me I should fight for love?”

  Louis paused for a second, then in an earnest tone, he said, “Is there anything more important?”

  He was right. Love was the most important thing. Taking down the Marquis might keep me alive.

  But Sierra was something worth living for.

  Still, I didn’t want to admit it, let alone talk about it.

  “Not dying is pretty important, too,” I answered at last.

  “So don’t die. Survive the Trials so you can fuck Sierra blue as a triumphant Alpha. But first, fuck her blue as an almost-Alpha. That is, if she still wants you.”

  “That’s a pretty big if, at this point. But I’ll think about it.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “Yeah, I will. I promise. Good night, Lou. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “G’night, Trick.”

  I hung up the phone and dumped it on the passenger’s seat, thoughts and emotions swelling to a thunderous roar inside me. Damn it, I hated feelings. They were the whole reason I spent my life with walls up, shoving everyone away from me. Strutting around to prove how big, how strong I was…when the truth was that I had a million crippling weaknesses that I hid from the world, all packed inside my gigantic frame.

  When I’d made my way out of the city, I headed deep into bayou territory and parked my truck at the end of a dark, deserted dirt road. I had too much pent-up energy to go home to bed, too much sexual frustration to even think about sleeping.

  Too much goddamned confusion.

  The best thing to do in this situation was release the beast inside me. He’d numb my emotions for a while and focus on whatever task I assigned him. Tonight’s job would provide us both with all the distraction we needed.

  The Trials consisted of three skills: target shooting, hunting live game, and one-on-one combat. The first would be done in human form. The other two challenges took place in shifted animal form. It had been the way of the world for hundreds of years, ever since the competitors used bows and arrows. Nowadays we used rifles, but the result was still the same.

  Prove your skills to the pack, and they’ll select the best candidate.

  Tonight, there would be no shooting.

  Only hunting.

  I eased my truck to a stop at the end of the dirt road where civilization ended and the natural world began. In front of me was a wall of vegetation—swamp grass, dark willows, and a jungle of bald cypress trees, all springing up on the edges of an expansive, fog-covered marsh.

  I slipped out of the truck and shut the door, tucking the keys under a nearby rock before stepping down into the marshy landscape of the bayou. The air was thick with humidity. My eyes, nose, and ears picked up the countless animals, skulking and invisible, in the surrounding marshy landscape. The entire area was a massive wildlife refuge. There was life everywhere. Otter. Deer. Foxes. Coyotes. I could even see the reflective yellow eyes of a bobcat staring at me through the darkness.

  Aware of my presence, the animals of the bayou were skittish. But they had nothing to worry about. It wasn’t them I was after. I was only interested in pursuing monsters tonight, so I shut my eyes and summoned my wolf.

  The change came with immediacy, only the slightest hint of pain seeping in as my skin stretched, my skeletal structure altering into that of the creature who stalked through the night on four enormous paws. My muscles morphed and expanded, rippling with pure energy and raw power. As my wolf padded forward, I thought about how it had felt in the early days, how agonizing those first shifts had been. How every change had felt like a shattering of my bones, a cruel torture session that seemed more painful than a hundred deaths at once as my mind twisted with thoughts of blood, of tearing apart the flesh of my future victims.

  In those early days, that had been the worst part of all. The lust for destruction, for
violence.

  For blood.

  My first change had come a hundred or so years back, when one of the Marquis’ men had altered my life forever. He’d hunted me through New Orleans one night after I’d had too much to drink, apparently impressed by my size. In those days, the Marquis ran the city quietly, mercilessly, taking out his enemies and building up new allies. The only local Alpha was too weak to stand up to the tyrant who commanded his own small army of shifters. Too weak to accomplish what I was setting out to do.

  I was determined to succeed where he had failed.

  Now, after many years of discipline and training, my wolf had become a creature of instinct. Over the years, I’d tamed him, taught him patience and judgment. He fought off his basest instincts in favor of what was right, though something told me that I’d have to drop all pretense of honor when the Trials began. The Marquis would show me no respect. He would break every rule, bend every law.

  All I needed was to find a way to break him.

  I lifted my large gray muzzle into the air, my nose picking up scents that my human nose never managed to. The immediate, unpleasant odor of damp nutria swirled around my mind. Disgusting creatures, like muskrats who’d been dipped in bleach, then possessed by demons. But vile as they were, they hardly posed a challenge when it came to the hunt. What I needed was much larger and stronger. There was one scent I was searching for, and as I stalked along through the tangles and brambles of the New Orleans bayou, I found it.

  Alligator.

  Scraps with gators made for excellent training sessions. The bastards moved quickly when they wanted to. Unpredictably. Nearly as fast on land as they were in the water, and deadly anywhere. They could tear through flesh and snap the thickest animal bones into splinters like the thin stem of a wine glass.

  Tonight I wanted a worthy foe. I needed someone to take out my aggression on.

  As I skulked forward, I realized that what I really wanted was an adversary who was the opposite of Sierra. Something to make me stop thinking about lust, affection, desire.