1. Chapter One

It was another Saturday, another night at the bar, and I found myself staring at Joey, an eyebrow raised in question. My phone was going off, but it could wait. I had to address the foolish human in front of me.

"Are we going to do this every week?" I asked, making it clear what I was talking about. He knew. He knew very well what I meant, and still, he gave me a cheeky smile, daring me to make him stop.

"Jacky. Heath is driving here right now, just like he does every Saturday. Now, I'm pretty sure you're a werewolf because he hangs around like you're one of his wolves, but you just refuse to admit it."

It was a game. Over the months since whatever Dallas was, this conversation had become a game.

"Not a werewolf. Never will be a werewolf. Can't be a werewolf." I grabbed a rag and a dirty glass and started wiping it down. I would still need to throw it in the dishwasher, but it gave me busy work to wipe them all down beforehand. Busy work was useful when uncomfortable questions and implications were being thrown my way.

I had given up months ago with Joey. Every werewolf in Jacksonville and Tyler had told him I wasn't a werewolf. Some humans were more perceptive than others, and Joey was one of them, having a small sixth sense for the supernatural. Since he'd gotten some form of confirmation of his not-so-secret belief, thanks to the mess last August, he was going to hang onto it like a dog with a bone.

But still, I played the game.

"You can't be a werewolf?" Joey snorted. "Why don't I buy that?"

"I've never lied to you. I'm not a werewolf." I grinned. That was true. I wasn't a werewolf. Werecats weren't werewolves. Couldn't be werewolves. Had a long-standing bad history with werewolves, even. The fact that two lived in my territory was unheard of, never done. Sometimes, territories would accidentally overlap, but those incidences were quickly corrected. Werecats gave everything a wide berth, preferring their own company normally. I was no exception.

But I had let two werewolves move right in with no intention of ever making them leave. It was selfish, honestly. With them came a little human girl named Carey, and she deserved the world. Even after months, I still felt the ache in my chest, demanding me to pick up my phone and call to see how she was doing, to see if she was safe. I was never truly released from my Duty, instead offering my protection for the remainder of her life as long as she lived in my territory. A stupid thing to do, but I had done it.

"Do you deny that Heath is on his way here right now?" Joey countered. "Werewolves only stick around for their pack. They're very adamant about that. They check in and make sure businesses being run by their people are doing well. He makes an obvious show of supporting your business."

I gave him a weak glare. I had a natural connection to the earth I claimed as mine, a piece of magic every werecat had. Werecats watched and felt their territory all the time, making sure no supernatural intruders were on the way or had to be dealt with. Since I let the wolves move in, my magic was constantly in overdrive, always accounting for the location of the two wolves, instinctual warning bells playing in the back of my head that they were there, and I hadn't yet forced them to leave.

So, there was no way I could deny Heath was in his car heading toward my bar for his standard Saturday night drink, forcing Landon to stay at home with Carey. Sometimes they got a babysitter, and both would show up but not tonight. Tonight, it was only Heath.

"He's on his way," I said softly, admitting some piece of defeat to Joey. "Heath coming to my bar doesn't make me a werewolf, though. I helped him out last year. What if we're just friends?"

"Sure." Joey was grinning like a fool now. "Friends."

I schooled my face. The way he was saying it made it sound like Heath and I were secret lovers, a thought I didn't toy with for long. If it weren't for the question of my humanity, that would be exactly the sort of thing people would assume by Joey's choice of words and tone.

"Joey, leave her alone!" someone called out. "It's your turn. Come get your damn stick, and let's play!"

"Yeah, Joey. Go play with your friends. I have a business to run." Waving him away with my rag, he relented. I dropped the rag, knowing it was finally time to deal with whatever was going on with my phone. Everyone knew not to call me during business hours, so it must have been important, something I needed to know immediately or the moment I had a break. I never got calls like that.

I grabbed it from my cubby behind the bar and frowned at the name on the screen. Two missed calls and three texts. Fantastic.

None were Hasan, something that surprised me. Instead, both calls and all the texts were from Jabari, his oldest son and right hand. Jabari was also one of two biological children Hasan had. The rest of the brood were all turned, just like me.

Why is dear older brother calling me?

I was almost scared to unlock my phone and check. It took a moment, but I mustered up the courage. I didn't have time to listen to my voicemail, but the texts made up for whatever I was missing there.

Jabari:We've gotten reports of two dead werecats in the PNW. Hasan is having me tell everyone to keep their heads down.

Jabari:Stay safe, watch your back.

Jabari:Let me know when you've gotten this.

I started typing quickly and deleted it just as quickly. What did I say to that? Two dead werecats across the country from me didn't really pose quite the threat that a werewolf war on my doorstep did.

I continued to think, a sinking realization about what Hasan and Jabari were thinking. They were old cats from before recorded history and had survived a devastating war with the werewolves.

I started typing again, frowning. The sinking feeling didn't stop. I ignored it as best as I could, trying to carefully word my reply.

"Good evening, Jacky," someone said from the other side of the bar. I jumped back, then cursed as I saw who it was, my heart pounding. Heath lowered his eyebrows in concern. If he were a human, he would have gotten a laugh because men liked to laugh at women when they got spooked, but we both knew what had just happened was concerning. "I spooked you," he pointed out immediately in a soft voice like he was trying not to draw more attention to us.

"I was a little distracted." I waved my phone at him, hoping he would dismiss the entire thing. "Let me finish what I was doing, then I'll get you a beer."

"What could have distracted—"

"Don't worry about it." I finished my text without care and hit send before shoving the phone into my pocket. "Nothing that concerns you." The sinking feeling wouldn't leave. It dampened a little, but it wouldn't leave.

"Okay." He seemingly dropped it just like that.

I busied myself pouring him the promised beer and slid it across the bar. It was faster than I normally slid glasses across the bar, and for a moment, I worried it would go over the edge. He grabbed it before that happened, too fast for the natural human eye to see—the very behavior supernaturals tried to avoid in front of humans. He didn't make a comment about it.

"You look good tonight."

I looked down at what I was wearing then leveled him with a flat stare. I had on an old black t-shirt, jeans torn at the knees, and dirty steel-toed boots. I didn't wear makeup and was certain I had done nothing with my hair that would warrant any compliments. It was in a ponytail, with pieces falling out everywhere, especially over my face. It hadn't been the best of days before the texts from Jabari. I barely got any sleep before opening, which had started the day off on the wrong foot.

He kept an innocent expression on his face as if his statement wasn't completely out of left field.

"Don't try flattery," I finally said pointedly. "It won't get you the information you want."

"Who says I'm looking for information?" he countered, raising an eyebrow, matching the one I liked to give people.

"The look on your face." Shaking my head, I grabbed an empty glass and served myself a drink—water. I didn't drink while I worked. Leaning on the bar, I eyed him warily. "What do you need tonight, other than being in my business?"

"I came for my customary Saturday night drink," he replied, his bland innocence refusing to abate and show me what he was thinking. I took a long sip of the water as I watched him, taking in every smell, hoping I could somehow discern what he was thinking.

"Then I'm getting back to work." I stepped back, putting my drink down at the same time. While he was alone, sitting at the bar proper, there were humans by the pool tables and sitting in a couple of my new booths along the opposite wall who would be needing drinks soon. Most were regulars and those I could prepare for. I knew what they drank, what they didn't like, and their habits.

"Well, I was hoping you would do something for me," he added before I made it two steps away. "But really, I'm just here for my drink. We can talk about the other thing later tonight."

I bit back the groan. "Just tell me, Heath. No reason to make me wait all night for one of us to forget, then you'll leave and bother me tomorrow with it." I grabbed my rag again, another dirty glass, and went back to the busy work that kept me occupied, waiting on him.

"You're going to hate it. You're really going to chafe with this request."

"Heath, don't play games with me right now." I wiped down the glass with more pressure than I really should have. I worried it was going to crack soon.

"Carey wants all of us to go bowling tomorrow."

I stopped what I was doing, giving him the most exasperated look I could muster. "Well, why didn't you say that sooner?" It would get me out of the house on a boring Sunday. I'm always okay with that. "Heath."

"I wanted to mess with you a little," he admitted, a smirk forming. "It's really a lot of fun."

"I hate you," I growled softly. "I really do."

"Of course, you do." He took a long swallow of his beer. Watching him, with his classic good looks in his perfect suit, totally out of place in my shithole of a bar, I wondered how I ever found myself in this position. Sure, I had gotten involved with his war in Dallas, but I didn't have to let him move into my territory. His excuse about having me help protect Carey was probably honest. He was technically a werewolf Alpha of two, him and his son, and they were the only defense his human daughter had.

My answer had been spur-of-the-moment. Looking back, I knew I should have told him no, that it drew unnecessary attention to me, or I didn't want an Alpha werewolf hanging around in my space, but I said yes because of things like this. Opportunities to have those elusive things called friends. Some form of community that didn't involve my own kind, which I was actively avoiding and had for several years.

"So, bowling. Tomorrow. What time?" I pressed for more information, trying not to sound too excited or desperate. I liked bowling, and just the idea of going with people was exciting.

"The place on 69 opens at three. Do you know it?" With my nod, he continued. "Meet us there by three-thirty." Heath was still smirking into his glass.

"Sounds good. Gives me time to get some sleep." With that, I yawned, realizing just how tired I was. For some reason, the last week had been a long one, with only a few nights when I got a full night's sleep. "I hate long weeks."

"We've had one ourselves. Landon and I had to spend two nights in Dallas, thanks to some meetings. Our old pack wanted us to check in as well, make sure everything was going well. Nothing official, just old friends, but very important old friends. A lot of the werewolf council had flown in."

"They don't have spies?" I asked, smiling because I knew the answer.

"No, they don't. They can't seem to convince anyone to come out here and check on us. Something about everyone scared of the big…supernatural who runs Tyler and Jacksonville and the surrounding area." He grinned back at me.

Our plan was working. Heath was able to pull Carey out of the werewolf world and be her father, and I was the nuclear deterrent who got some friends out of that world. It wasn't perfect, but it was holding. Sometimes, I thought the polite man in front of me was overreacting to what happened in Dallas, but I was always quick to remind myself I didn't know all of his history. I didn't know how many enemies he had or who they could be. I only knew he thought they were a danger to his daughter.

Things I maybe should have asked about before letting him move in. Too late now.

"Must be some scary supernatural," I commented lightly.

"Truly. Shook up a lot of my old pack when it rolled through Dallas and showed them who the dominant predator was."

I wanted to laugh, but I bit it back. We had to be careful about talking openly about too many supernatural things. What surprised me was his comment about her being the dominant predator. In a one-on-one fight, we both understood I could wipe the floor with him. His son, too, but no self-respecting werewolf Alpha, retired or not, admitted to something so vulnerable. It exposed a weakness when weaknesses got wolves killed.

"You're a fool," I whispered, looking down to pour him another beer.

"For admitting it?" he inquired, obviously knowing where I was going with my comment.

"Yeah. Aren't you supposed to maintain that you're the strongest? It's how you get other wolves to fall in line. One of the ways." I gave a half shrug, silently trying to dismiss my knowledge. I knew a lot about other supernatural species, something Hasan made sure was a frequent part of my education shortly after I was Changed.

"That mattered when I ran a pack, but…that supernatural showing up and doing what it did reminded every wolf in North America that we don't run the world. Everyone is quietly eating that dose of reality right now."

My stomach sank a little more, remembering Jabari's texts and what the implications of two dead werecats could mean. "You all already knew about…" I didn't know how to finish that without giving away anything more. I glanced around the bar, glad to see every human in the room was instinctively avoiding the two dangerous predators at the bar. It always happened. Once Heath walked in, they gradually drifted to the other side of the room, hiding by the booths and pool tables. They would claim it was a sign of respect for Heath, but Heath and I knew the truth.

"We did know but seeing is believing. Seeing the truth is different from hearing it. Harder to ignore, harder to deny. Don't worry, none of them are really angry or upset. They're cautious. Actually, I know a couple of Alphas who have reached out to introduce themselves to some…cousins, hoping to start better relations." Heath sipped on his beer. I put the new one in front of him, causing him to chuckle. "Wolves are social things. Insular in our own ways but more social than the rest of our world. We adapt to a new player on the stage, even if it's really one of the oldest players, and this time, many wolves are making sure we're allies."

"That's good," I mumbled. "I'm not really involved with politics, so thanks for that news."

"It's been going on for months, and no one told you?" He narrowed his eyes playfully, but there was no missing the cunning, curious light in his eyes.

"Nope. I don't want to be involved. I don't care to be involved."

"Strange because…" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. No human ears would pick up what he said. "You're right in the middle of it, letting wolves live near you, in your space."

"Don't make me throw you out," I snapped, suddenly fighting a bolt of hostility. His comment sounded like trouble, and like always, I wanted no part in it. I didn't want attention. "Out of the bar, my territory, and out of the state. You drag me into anything else, and we're going to have real problems."

"I just figured we were on the topic, so I would give you the recent news. I'm not looking to draw attention to myself, promise. Or you. Word is, many supernaturals have been curious and confused by the new living arrangement here, but they don't have any reason to talk about it. They're just curious."

"Once an Alpha, always an Alpha. Natural politicians, the lot of you." I made it sound like an insult—it was and wasn't. Supernaturals like Heath stayed alive because they were so good at making the right allies and playing the field without pissing off too many people. Had he made mistakes? Yeah, that was pretty clear from what happened last year, but even I could tell he was a survivor.

Politicians still sucked, though.

"Always, even without a pack. It's not something I can turn off."

I had long figured that out.

"Well, forgive me, but I don't plan on telling you anything on my end. Whenever I learn about something from…" I couldn't say ‘my family,' so I trailed off, trying to find the last word. He only watched me, too curious, too insightful for my liking. He wanted to know so much more about me, and I fought to say anything for a minute under his gaze. "When I learn something, it's normally told to me in confidence. Something that can't join the world of rumors."

"Of course." He was still smiling, though. "The only time I ever hear about…your kind is when one crosses paths publicly with another group." He had phrased it very carefully, something I was grateful for as I looked over his shoulder and saw Joey watching us with suspicion.

"I can't tell you all my secrets. Sorry." I threw in the apology because I knew there was an expectation. He'd given me information I either didn't know or was purposefully ignoring, and I refused to return the favor. "And can you talk to that man?" I didn't need to say who. Heath sighed heavily in return, telling me exactly how bad he felt about who I was dealing with.

"I didn't mean to bring that much attention to you. Honestly, when he first approached me, I had no idea who he was or what it was about. Then he said ‘werewolf,' which confused the hell out of me. I approached your territory and realized what you were. Since I couldn't get close to learn more about you, I used him to get me basic information." Heath sipped his beer before continuing. "Has it gotten worse?"

"Yes, since Carey came down here," I answered. "It used to be a joke, and now it's a bit of a game, but its frequency is increasing."

"Unless you want to tell him..." Heath's sympathetic look told me everything. There was no fixing it without dragging Joey into the supernatural world. Since neither of us really knew Joey that well, nor was he an employee, there was no incentive for it. Telling someone you can't trust led to disaster, and that was something I never flirted with.

Unless it's for Carey. Then I didn't just flirt with disaster, I took it out to drinks and asked it to fuck me on the first date.

"No, he doesn't need to know. It just started to make me uncomfortable, and…" I trailed off, realizing what I was about to ask. I was a werecat, and this was my territory, and I was about to ask a wolf to handle his previous spy and get him off my back. "You know what? Don't worry about. I'll start throwing him out of the bar if it gets too bad."

"Good. I'll finish my beer and get out of your hair early tonight, then." He nodded slowly, glancing over his shoulder. I saw Joey jerk his gaze away. "Your territory, your decision."

I didn't reply to that, quickly beginning to fill glasses as I saw one of my regulars stand up and walk over. By the time she was at the bar, I had three beers and a margarita waiting for her. She took them without comment, and I silently added the drinks to her tab.

It was another thirty minutes before Heath wandered out.

"Drive safe," I called after him. He waved over his shoulder in response and strolled out of Kick Shot like the night had been like any other.

For some reason, I had a suspicion it hadn't been. I glanced down at my phone, frowning, that sinking feeling in my gut setting off warning bells in my head.

No, it wasn't like any normal night at all.