The Beast in Him

CHAPTER 3

“You called her Spot?”

His sister looked up at him in surprise. Probably because he never yelled. At her or anyone else. But no wonder Jessie Ann had looked right through him the last two nights he’d seen her. Who wanted to remember being called Spot?

“Lassie had been done, darlin’,” his sister said as an explanation.

He didn’t know how this particular event became a monthly one. Meeting with Mace, his sister, Sissy Mae, Ronnie Lee, Ronnie Lee’s mate Brendon Shaw, and Mace’s wife Dez for Sunday brunch at the Kingston Arms, Shaw’s hotel. This specific dining room was hidden away from full-humans and catered mostly to their kind. A neutral space for all breeds. And the best damn French toast a body could ever have.

“It wasn’t just that, Sissy Mae,” Ronnie reminded her. “It was also her hair. All those colors in one head. It was tragic. It didn’t look punk or anything. It just looked stupid.”

“She’s a wild dog,” Smitty growled out, trying his best to control his growing rage. A rage he rarely, if ever, used. “All wild dogs have those colors unless they dye their hair.”

“Then she should have dyed it. ’Cause all she did was make herself a big ol’ target.”

“I don’t get it,” Dez said around a spoonful of oatmeal and her son hissing in her arms. “What’s the difference between you guys and the wild dogs?”

As quick as it came, Smitty felt his rage slip away. Dez did have that effect on him. She so easily fell into momentous shifter faux pas that she never failed to amuse him. Sometimes it was like watching a train wreck.

It took a moment, but Dez suddenly realized she had the attention of the entire room. Her mate leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, waiting with a smile to see how she got out of this one. Glancing around, Dez shrugged. “What?”

Sissy opened her mouth to say something, but Ronnie cut in before Sissy said something that would damage what had turned into a very healthy friendship among the three women.

“We’re wolves,” Ronnie Lee explained simply. “The wild dogs are, literally, dogs.”

“Some say the first dogs,” Mace added helpfully while stealing bacon off his wife’s plate.

Sissy Mae pushed her empty plate away. “Forget all that. Why did you bring her up anyway, Bobby Ray?”

“I met her at that job we had Friday night.” He couldn’t mention last night’s meeting. Not even to Mace. He still couldn’t believe it. She’d called him Bubba. She might as well have spit in his face.

Mace shook his head, smiling as his son hissed and swiped at him when his father took toast off Dez’s plate. “Forget it, Smitty. You are so out of her league. She barely remembered you.”

Sissy and Ronnie exchanged glances.

“Out of whose league?” Sissy asked. “Jessie Ann’s?”

“She may have been Jessie Ann when you knew her. But she’s Jessica Ann Ward now. And you, my hillbilly friend, don’t stand a chance.”

Dez sat up a little straighter. “Are you guys talking about Jess Ward? Christ, I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“You know Jessica Ward?” How Dez put up with that superior lion tone, Smitty had no idea. Without fangs or claws, she couldn’t exact her revenge during hunts, the way Smitty often did.

“Yes, Captain Ego, I know Jessica Ward.”

“I love when she calls him that,” Sissy laughed.

“We worked together a few years ago.” Dez grinned down at her son. “A bunch of us were sorry when she left. She was so damn good at her job.”

Eyebrows raised, Sissy said, “Don’t tell me that frightened little rabbit was a cop.”

“Not a cop. Technician. Computer tech specifically. She was good, but she left to start her own business. And now she’s richer than God.” Dez looked at Smitty. “Mace is right. She’s so out of your league.”

Smitty gave his best pout. “Why are y’all trying to hurt me?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“It’s easy.”

“I love it when you cry.”

Smitty sighed. “Forget I asked.”

“So how did your date go?”

Jess rolled her eyes at May’s question. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

May grimaced. “That bad?”

“That boring.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Jess stood and took her breakfast plate to the sink. “It’s not your fault. We’re just not a good match.”

As she rinsed her dish, Jess said casually, “And I saw Bobby Ray Smith last night at the restaurant.”

“Oh?” May asked, just as casually. “What happened?”

“Well”—Jess dried her hands and turned—“I guess you could say—”

The sight of forty wild dogs standing in the Pack kitchen, appearing suddenly simply so they could hear her response, stopped the words dead in her throat.

Phil motioned to her. “Every detail. Leave nothing out. Go.”

And she did “go.” Right to the front door and freedom.

Smitty motioned to Dez and she happily placed her son in his arms. “All I know is... Jessie Ann is still damn cute.”

“And so not interested.”

Smitty glowered at his friend. “Did you actually have to sing that?”

“Bobby Ray always had a thing for the damsels in distress.”

“Oh, save me, Bobby Ray,” his sister mocked. “I’m so weak and frail.”

“Save me, Bobby Ray,” Ronnie joined in, “I’m trapped under the bleachers—”

“—in a tree—”

“—in the school venting system... ”

The two lifelong friends looked at each other and said in unison, “Again!”

Ignoring the She-heifers idiocy, he asked over their laughter, “When did she leave town?”

Still chuckling, Ronnie thought a moment. “It was right after Big-Bone fell off that mountain.”

“Man, she must have been so drunk,” Sissy said. “She broke both her legs and some ribs. Took her days to heal,” she added with true pity.

Smitty said, “Her Packmate said she’d been their Alpha for sixteen years.”

“It’s possible. I know she left before the end of our junior year.”

“Wow. Alpha of a dog Pack,” Sissy sneered. “Wonder what ya gotta do to get that job?”

“Be the best ass sniffer?”

Dez shook her head. “You two are mean.”

“What can I say? She brings out the worst in us.”

“Actually,” Ronnie reminded Sissy, “everybody brings out the worst in us.”

“Good point.”

Smitty sighed, a little sad. “Y’all don’t think she left because of me, do you?”

He’d asked it honestly, knowing how he’d protected her and all. But the hysterical laughter he got back did nothing but insult him.

“There’s nothing to tell. I saw Bobby Ray for like five minutes.”

“She lies,” Sabina accused. “But we will break her.”

They pushed Jess into a chair and Sabina snapped her fingers. They placed it in her hand and she held it in front of Jess’s face.

Jess snorted. “You really don’t think that’ll work on—”

“Dark, dark chocolate,” Sabina told her softly. “Walnuts. Fresh from the oven.”

Sabina held Jess’s favorite brownies under her nose. They’d been baked, along with cookies, for an early afternoon trip to the zoo.

She reached for the pan, but Sabina yanked it back. “Oh no. Not unless you tell us everything about your five-minute meeting with the wolf.”

“Fine,” Jess agreed, her mouth watering. “But I get the whole pan.”

“If you think your hips can handle that, my friend.”

“When are you going to pick up the final check?” Smitty asked Mace.

Mace, finally sated, leaned back in his chair and put his arm behind his wife’s chair, stroking her shoulder. “Forget it.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“For-get-it. I’m there to do business. Not have you sniffing around her like a dog in heat.”

The cub in his arms, Butthead, aka Marcus Patrick Llewellyn, smiled up at him and reached for his finger. You could actually feel small claws right underneath his skin. Yet, they wouldn’t make a real appearance until Marcus hit puberty. Still, you didn’t need to see those claws to recognize the animal within. He may have his mother’s gray–green eyes, but this wonderful little boy—and Smitty’s godson—still had the cold, hard expression of a predator. Just like his daddy.

Smitty smiled at Dez. “How are you holding up, darlin’? I know it’s not easy raising one of us.”

“Good. The cheetah nanny helps, though. But the first time he snarled, I had a bit of a panic attack.”

“She screamed and threw him at me.”

Dez scowled at Mace. “I did not throw my son at you. I just handed him over and walked quickly from the room so I could scream into a pillow in our bedroom.”

“I found her under the bed with the dogs.”

“I was getting their toys, you big-haired bastard.” She looked back at Smitty. “It’s just taking some getting used to. The snarling, the hissing, the purring. Then I have to deal with it from the baby... .”

“Ha, ha,” Mace stated dryly.

“When do you go back to work?” Smitty asked because he loved seeing the way Mace’s entire body tensed with panic.

She gave a deep sigh. “Tomorrow. They asked me back early. Said they were desperate. I thought about telling them no, but Mace said I shouldn’t risk my job.” She rubbed her husband’s thigh and gave him that sincere, loving look that always made Mace want to run for his life. “You’re so wonderful about all this, honey.”

“Uh... yeah. Thanks.”

Mace turned toward Shaw and asked him about the hotel, and Smitty watched Dez, Ronnie Lee, and Sissy Mae all exchange suspiciously smug glances.

“Hey,” Smitty said, “did you three plan—ow!”

The entire room looked at him and he gritted his teeth against the sudden and brutal pain in his foot where Dez had stomped on him under the table.

“What’s the matter with you?” Mace demanded, almost sounding like he really cared.

Smitty shook his head while Dez gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I think the poor baby got a leg cramp, huh?”

He nodded this time, unable to speak as she ground her heel into the upper part of his foot.

“You don’t hunt enough,” Mace accused, already turning back to Shaw. “That would work those cramps out, ya know.”

Dez kissed his cheek and hissed in his ear, “You say a word—they won’t find your body for months.”

Wolves were a smart breed and always knew when a predator meaner than them was near.

Still holding the baby, who seemed quite happy with the vicious side of his momma, Smitty promised, “Not a word.”

Jess dropped onto the couch beside the sixteen-year-old boy reading a book and trying to pretend she wasn’t sitting next to him.

She opened her laptop and booted it up. “You weren’t up to zoo time today?” she asked him.

Jonathan DeSerio, Johnny, shook his head, his eyes focused on the book in front of him. Until his head suddenly snapped up and he hurriedly said, “Unless you want me to go. I can next time.”

For three years after his mother died, child services bounced Johnny between foster homes. For reasons no one but other shifters understood, the full-human families the city stuck him with simply didn’t like having him around. They found him odd. And with reason. He wasn’t really human, not completely.

Finally, a division of Child Protective Services that handled mostly shifter cases discovered Johnny. They tried to place him with one of the local wolf Packs, but none of them would take him. So CPS finally came to Jess and asked if they could place him with her Pack. They were all canines after all.

Jess didn’t hesitate taking him in. And she’d worked hard to make him feel at home, but he continued to fear they’d send him away. Like all the others had. Johnny still hadn’t realized he wasn’t going anywhere. They wouldn’t suddenly decide they didn’t like having him around and kick him to the curb. Wild-dog Packs didn’t work that way. Once you were in, you were in. Kind of like the Mafia except without the blood oaths and murders for hire.

“If you don’t want to go to the zoo, Johnny, you don’t have to go.”

“Okay.”

After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “So have you hear—”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t worry—”

“I’m not.”

“Okay then.”

Johnny had applied for an extremely prestigious summer music program that his violin teacher recommended. It was brutally competitive and only the best got in. Jess had faith, but clearly Johnny didn’t. But that was okay. She had enough faith for both of them.

May and Danny’s daughter Kristan walked into the living room, looking adorable as always in her pink, faux-fur–lined jacket and mini-skirt with the full-length leggings to keep her warm.

She glanced down at Johnny. “Are you still sitting here?”

“No,” he said with dry sarcasm, not even bothering to look up from his book. “This is just my hologram. I’m actually in Utah.”

Jess snorted. So far, Kristan had been the only one able to get Johnny out of his shell. She did it mostly by annoying him; but hell, if it worked, it worked.

“He was sitting in the exact same spot when the brats went off for zoo day,” she informed Jess.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Hello? A little too old for that.”

“One is never too old for the zoo.”

Kristan rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to the diner. You wanna go?”

Jess stared at Johnny but realized he didn’t understand Kristan spoke to him. She shoved her elbow in his side and his head snapped up from his book. “Huh?”

No wonder Jess liked the kid so much, he was a male version of her.

“Diner,” Kristan pushed. “For dinner. Burgers. French fries. Lots of ketchup. Then we can hit the arcade or a movie or something. Unless you want to stay here with the old people.”

“You do know I’m not afraid to hurt you, right? And don’t be out late,” Jess said with a mock glare, which merely elicited the usual eye-rolling-boredom-sigh universal among brats... er... children.

“Yes, mom.”

“I guess I can go.” Johnny looked at her and Jess shrugged.

“Your choice, kid.”

Unsure, Johnny stood, his book still firmly in hand.

“You’re bringing that tome with you to the restaurant? I can assure you I’m much more interesting than some crappy old book.”

“Hey!” Jess warned. “Watch your mouth when you speak of this book. It’s Lord of the Rings.”

“Your obsession with elves is really unhealthy.”

When Johnny simply stood there, dumbstruck, Kristan gave that put-upon sigh again, grabbed the book from his hand, and tossed it to Jess. “I’ll even introduce you to some hot full-human girls. They’re total sluts.”

“Kristan Jade!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Kristan grabbed Johnny’s hand and dragged him toward the front door. “See ya, Aunt Jess.”

Johnny looked back at her, and Jess couldn’t help but enjoy that particular look of fear on his face. No panic, no despair, just a deep abiding fear of what a perky She-dog might be up to. Definitely progress.

“Have fun,” Jess called after them before turning back to her laptop. Her Pack had whined—literally—when she said she should go into the office. So her compromise? She’d work from the couch. At least that way she could join in later for a little after-dinner fetch.

Jess had no idea how long she’d been working when her cell phone went off. Thinking it might be Johnny or Kristan, she immediately answered.

“This is Jess.”

“Hey.”

She frowned. “Hey... who is this?”

“It’s Smitty?”

Jess’s eyes crossed. Still persistent as a pit bull. “How did you get my number?”

“Can’t really tell you that.”

“Oh!” she said with a huge amount of cheeriness. “Okay.”

She slammed the phone shut and tossed it onto another couch across the room. “Asshole.”

Smitty stared at the disconnection message on his phone in horror.

“She hung up on me.”

Ronnie patted his leg. “I’m sure she didn’t—”

“On me!”

Brendon Shaw burst out laughing. “You know, I never really paid much attention to Jessica Ward before. But I have to say... I’m starting to really like her.”

Punching her mate in the arm, Ronnie said, “Remember our many discussions about when to speak and when not to when it involved the Smith wolves? This is one of those not-speak times.”

Smitty looked at his sister comfortably resting on a leather love seat. Brendon Shaw’s apartment had big, comfortable furniture, and to the cat’s great annoyance, the wolves did love to come on over whenever it suited them and lounge.

“I’m Bobby Ray Smith,” Smitty said simply to his kin.

“You are,” Sissy agreed. “But apparently that don’t matter much to little Jessie Ann.”

“I know,” Shaw said, still laughing. “Let’s all go around the room and say what our names are. ’Cause that makes the difference.”

“Man, you are an asshole,” Smitty snarled, looking for a fight and maybe just finding it.

“Oooh. Those are mighty fightin’ words from a guy who just got shot down by a Rhodesian Ridgeback.”

Ronnie let out a sigh. “You never know when to shut up.”

Smitty stood. “Is there something you want to say to me, boy?”

“Not really.” Shaw stood. “Just like your little nongirlfriend there, I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

And the last thing Smitty heard before he unleashed his claws and felt fangs bury into his neck was Ronnie Lee screaming at him, “Just not his face, Smitty!”