Chapter 5

FIVE

Asha

I tap my fingers on the table while glaring at the empty plates in front of me, along with the coffee cup I've had refilled four times. This is… irritating. Why the fuck is Max having some lengthy meeting at a bar when my pack is in danger?

For a guy who seems to be programmed like a robot instead of being a living, breathing shifter, this is not at all his MO. If he ends up just drinking his ass off, I don't know what I'll do. Part of me would be impressed. The other part would want to claw his eyes out.

Either way, I'm done waiting. It's time to find out what the great Max is up to. What he didn't want me to know about.

I put enough money for my meal and a generous tip down on the table, then exit the diner, looking in the direction of the bar he's in. But before I cross the street, I freeze. Max doesn't seem like the cruel type, but these Enforcers just barely took me out of handcuffs. Just barely reassigned the other three guys Max was working with. If I cause an issue, will I lose my freedom again?

I sigh. The smart thing would be to let him have his secret meeting. Not that I usually make the smart move.

Waiting, I eye the bar again. Where the fuck is he? And what the hell is taking him so long?

Mentally, I command him to come out. But, after a minute, there’s still no sign of him. Which makes sense. I can do a lot of weird shit, but controlling people like puppets isn't one of my powers. At least, I don’t think it is. I haven’t experimented enough with my mage abilities to be sure.

I shift from one foot to the other, thinking about what to do next. I can't handle sitting still any longer, but he'd also made it clear I wasn't welcome with whatever he was up to.

What to do… what to do…

Deciding to take a walk, I head to the left, having no sense of where I'm going but wanting to clear my head. This is a small town, after all, so I'm sure I can be back before Max is finished. And I'll probably be a bit calmer after expelling a little energy.

That's a win-win for both of us since even I know I get a bit irritating when I'm in this kind of a mood. You know, a mood that comes from not fucking enough, shifting enough, or feeding enough… I think of the hottie from the cafe.

I definitely haven't been fucking enough.

The evening slips away to night around me as I take in the rustic buildings along the main street. Unable to help myself, I breathe in the scents around me. There's oil, dust, and gasoline. But beyond that, the sweeter scents of the woods. Earthy and rich. Lighter and more delicate. It's intoxicating. It calls to me. And I veer off the main road to slip onto the smaller roads, moving ever closer to the woods behind the town.

No, I'm not going into those woods, as much as I might want to. Because I have no doubt then I'd want to shift. And if I shift, I won't ever want to come back to this form. And I don't deserve to escape into my wolf form. Not after what I did. Not after the blood that's on my hands. Not after I betrayed everyone I ever loved.

I freeze, breathing hard. That heavy weight's back on my chest. The one that's more than a physical pain. The one that's some fucking curse inside of me, never letting me forget what I did and what I deserve. I practice taking slow, deep breaths. But then I see those black wisps out of the corner of my eye, and the whispering starts. The terrible whispering that seems to haunt me. Closing my eyes, I try to picture a safe place, even though I never can. Even though it's just darkness in my mind beyond the horror.

But the darkness is still better

When the pressure on my chest lessens, I open my eyes and try to ignore the sob building in my throat. No matter what, I won't cry. I won't let myself feel scared or sad. Because if I do, I'm not sure I'll ever come back. Ever function again.

And I have to keep going, as long as a single member of my pack is alive. As long as there's a shred of hope my brother is.

Okay, walk. Keep walking. Clear your head.

I'm about to keep going when the hair on the back of my neck rises, and I flinch instinctually. Looking down, I realize my hands are clenched, and then I glance around me, wondering what my body senses that I don't.

As far as I can tell, I'm alone. No danger is in sight, but I still can't calm my instincts. Once upon a time, I trusted this feeling. Now? Now I'm not sure if it's a current danger or a past ghost making me feel this way.

I keep walking, more slowly and deliberately this time. A shiver rolls down my spine, and I have the sense that I'm being followed. But when I glance behind me, no one's there.

My heart races, but I try to shrug off this feeling. If some human sees a woman walking alone and wants to cause trouble, I'll end them. As for every other supernatural? They fear my kind.

I've become the monster that scares the other monsters. So, is there really anything for me to fear?

Besides, I don't smell anyone. I don't see anyone. It's just as likely that thinking about the past has me feeling unsafe, as stupid as that is.

So, I keep walking. Trying to shake the feeling away. Waiting for it to pass as I make my way back to the cafe.

But the feeling doesn't go away, no matter how much I tell myself it isn't real.

Fuck. My breathing becomes more rapid. This isn't a ghost from the past. Something is wrong, even if I can handle it. I've been through too much to stupidly ignore the deep sense of dread that's washing over me.

Just as my instincts predict, I see a man round the corner in front of me. He appears like I conjured him, because one minute he isn't there and the next he is. And he's just looking at me like I'm either the best or worst thing he's come across all day.

Which immediately puts me on edge.

Any man who stands, blocking an alley exit in front of a woman, is trouble. Luckily for me, I know how to handle trouble.

So, when his slow gaze moves from my feet to my face, I pin him with my eyes, daring him to try me, and analyzing him at the same time. The man is probably in his early thirties with dark hair and pale eyes. All pretty normal, except that he's big. Pure muscle. Which makes me pretty damn sure he's either a supernatural or a human football player.

I take a deep breath, separating his scent from the ones around me. But I'm pretty sure his smell is similar to the scents coming from the dumpster beside me. Unimpressive and disgusting. But unfortunately for me, the scent of another shifter.

Which should make whatever's about to happen more interesting.

As I watch him, a smile spreads across his face, a smile carrying malice so thick, I have the urge to gag. Or scream. I'm not sure which, but I think I'll know soon.

That creepy smile of his widens even further, impossibly far. "Fancy seeing you here," he says, his voice a deep bass with a slight echo that sounds trained.

I lift a brow. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

He shakes his head. "I don't think so." His words are laced with a threat.

"I'm just going to go now…" Taking a step forward, I dare him with my gaze to keep blocking my way.

But he doesn't move out of the way. If anything, I see the muscles in his body tensing, as if preparing for a fight. "I thought they did away with every member of your weak pack but here you are, just like the rumors said."

Weak? Did he just call my pack weak? Oh, that's a mistake.

And rumors about me? Who the fuck cares enough about me to be flapping their mouths?

Apparently, this guy. Whoever the hell he is. A shifter who probably smelled me and marked me as a half breed. A shifter who heard the whispers about my pack and put two-and-two together when he saw me. And a complete idiot if he thinks his size will matter much in a fight between us.

"What do you want?" I'm trying to keep my breathing steady, preparing for whatever will happen next, but it's not working. My breath is already coming in and out in a rush.

He shakes his head of dark hair. "Doesn't matter, mutt."

Fucking helpful. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare."

I laugh, even though it’s forced. "Let me guess, you're basing your personality on some villain from a cheesy movie?"

His smile fades away. "You should be nicer, that pretty face of yours is the only thing that might make me gentler with you." He doesn't move as he answers and I survey my surroundings to gauge the best move to make.

If I just kill this motherfucker, I have no doubt it'll screw up my life. Even though he's the aggressor, the Enforcers will come down on me. They may even decide that I need to be kept under lock and key again, or that I'm too dangerous to help find my pack.

But there are ways to make my point without killing him…

"If you've heard about my kind, you've probably heard about what I can do too… so are you really sure you want me to show you the kind of agony most people can go their whole lives without feeling?" I say it in a bored voice, like I'm challenged by weird shifters in alleys every damn day.

His eyes widen, but he quickly recovers. "I think you might be surprised by what I've felt and the pain I can bring you. And then, at last, your worthless pack will be erased from this world."

I cock my head, then gesture to him. "Bring it."

But he doesn't come toward me, just smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. Dick.

Tired of this game, and worrying that Max has noticed my absence by now, I decide the hell with it, and move slowly towards him in a defensive stance. If he wants a fight, he's going to get one. And when he's done, I'm going to figure out how he tracked me down and why. And if he’s acting alone, or on someone else’s orders.

Knowing that fighting him in my wolf form isn't the way to win this one, I raise a hand and point it at him, ready to unleash my unnatural abilities on him.

But nothing happens.

Realization hits me smack in the chest. I'm low on blood, since I haven't been feeding, and my kind isn’t fueled by blood from banks. Fuck. I hadn't realized it earlier because there hadn't been a reason to use my powers, but I grasp my foolishness and what it may cost me now.

Except that my powers aren't my only skills. I just need to change my approach. If I do this right, I can still make this asshole cry.

I'm still thinking about what to do when I hear movement around me. I turn in time to see a man drop from the building above me, almost pouncing on me, but I manage to leap back at the last possible second. As he stands to his massive height, I breathe him in, instantly recognizing him as another garbage-scented shifter. There's no doubt these two are working together.

Which means more trouble.

I move back instinctively and let my gaze slip from him to the first man. My heart is hammering. My hands are curled into fists. I might be able to take these two on in my wolf form, but hand-to-hand combat would be better. Big guys like this tend to be all muscles, no skill. Still, it won’t be easy.

Suddenly, a chill rolls up my spine, and it's like a face full of cold water. Behind me, another shifter managed to slip too close to me, with my attention fixed on the other two.

Whatever this is, it spells serious danger for me.