Prologue
About six months ago…
“You lying, cheating bastard!” Evie King shouted into her phone.
“Evie, no,” Richard Brandis, Evie’s soon-to-be ex-boyfriend (again), pleaded, his voice crackling through the speakers of her cell. “I swear, babe, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident!”
“An accident?” she asked incredulously. “Was she walking by, tripped, and accidentally landed on your cock?”
“I was drunk. Me and the boys were celebrating landing another big account …”
“That’s not an excuse,” she retorted.
“Evie, honey bear, please. This is the last time.”
“No, Richard,” Evie said. “This is the last time.” She pressed the red button on the screen of her smartphone, wishing she still had a landline phone she could slam down. Instead, the line went dead with an unsatisfying electronic click.
Evie wanted nothing more than to throw the phone against the wall as they did in the movies. But, she had already spent the last of her savings moving to New York City so she could pursue her dream of becoming a Broadway actress. Buying another phone would put her in the red or mean she’d have to take a couple of extra shifts at the diner.
The phone in her hand suddenly lit up, and her roommate’s name flashed on the screen. Talk about bad timing. Selena Merlin swore she was a powerless witch, but she somehow had a sixth sense when it came to Evie’s relationship with Richard. “Selena?” she answered, trying not to sound deflated.
“Evie-girl,” Selena said. “I’ve been calling you for the last thirty minutes, but you weren’t answering.”
“I was on the phone.”
“Really? Who were you talking to?”
Evie bit her lip and thought about lying, but Selena was her best friend. “Richard.” Her shoulders slumped.
“And what did Dick want?” Selena asked in an acerbic tone.
“His name is Richard,” she corrected for the 148th time.
“Dick is a perfectly acceptable nickname for Richard,” Selena retorted. “And what were you guys talking about for half an hour? Oh my God, you weren’t having phone sex, were you? Please tell me you’re not on the couch. I eat dinner there.”
“No, we weren’t.”
The five-second pause must have tipped off the almost-witch. “Shit. Not again, Evie.”
Evie sank down on the couch. “Yes.”
“What happened this time?”
“I got a video,” Evie said. “It was …” She wanted to throw up. Richard had probably meant to send the disgusting video to one of his buddies and sent it to her instead. This time, he couldn’t deny that he had had sex with another girl.
“Oh, Evie, I’m so sorry,” Selena said.
“Go ahead,” Evie sighed. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
She let out a breath. “I told you so.”
“I would never say that to you.”
Evie thought that was generous of her. After all, Selena had been there for the first time she and Richard broke up. Someone had sent her a screenshot of him in a club, kissing some girl. She cried, and Selena supplied her with copious amounts of ice cream and cookies and listened to her moan and pour her heart out. Of course, three days later, Richard called her and explained that he didn’t sleep with that girl, just made out with her. He was out with his friends and was drunk, and he was missing her. Guilt had made her take him back. After all, they’d been together for four years when she decided to move to New York City from Kansas. Richard didn’t want to leave his lucrative job, so they thought they’d try the long-distance thing.
She’d forgiven him after he flew in and begged on his knees. They spent a dreamy week in New York, going to all the touristy spots and cuddling and kissing everywhere (including the viewing deck of the Empire State Building). It was pure bliss, and, when he left, Evie was sure their relationship was more solid than ever.
Of course, it didn’t take long before Richard stumbled again. Her brother, Arthur, had seen him on a date with some skank, and Evie confronted him over the phone. He denied it, of course, but he eventually broke down and confessed, telling her that they only went out and kissed, that was it. Despite Selena’s protests (“Once a cheater, always a cheater!”), Evie took him back. He promised he’d visit soon, but he was so busy at work.
Two fat tears rolled down Evie’s cheeks. “I should have listened to you.”
“Don’t cry. He’s not worth it.”
“I know.” Richard was a piece of shit. She knew that now. A lying piece of shit. “Are you coming home soon? Would you mind picking up a carton or four of Ben and Jerry’s?”
“Oh, Evie, I think you’re going to need something stronger than ice cream. In fact …”
Evie could almost hear the wheels in Selena’s head turning. “Selena, what are you planning?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Good. Do exactly as I say, and everything will be okay. First, go to the fridge and pour yourself a glass of the Chardonnay I have in there.”
“Selena …”
“C’mon, just do it. Trust me,” Selena said, a hint of mischief in her voice.
“Fine.” Evie walked to the kitchen and grabbed the opened bottle of wine, still half full. She took out a wine glass, then poured herself a small amount, wrinkling her nose. It wasn’t that she didn’t drink. She had a beer or a glass of wine with dinner now and then, but she never saw the point of getting drunk. Despite having a Lycan as a mom, Evie was one hundred percent human and, thus, didn’t have a shifter’s fast metabolism (as evidenced by the extra 20 pounds or so she was always trying to lose) which meant she always felt a little tipsy after a glass or two. “Well, now what?”
“Take a drink,” Selena instructed. “A big gulp.”
Evie took a small sip. Hmmm … it wasn’t bad. “Okay.”
“I said take a big gulp, not a sip.”
“I already—how the hell did you know?”
“Because you’re a wuss and I’ve never seen you drink more than a glass,” Selena said in an exasperated voice. “Now be a good girl, fill up that glass and finish it off. I promise it’ll make everything better.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
Ugh, Selena was so bossy. “Fine.” She topped off the glass and took a big gulp. The wine burned her throat and she nearly choked, but she swallowed it down. She took another sip. The wine was cold but made her belly feel so warm and nice. This wasn’t so bad.
“Did you finish it all?” Selena asked impatiently.
She took the last gulp. “Uh-huh.” She felt lightheaded but so good. “Maybe I’ll have another one.” There was a numbness spreading through her, and it made her temporarily forget about Richard. No, she couldn’t forget about Dick (snicker), but the wine made everything seem less painful.
“Good,” Selena answered. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do. First, go to my closet and grab my red dress, the one in the garment bag. Put it on, then add your nicest pair of heels. Next, I’ll text you an address. You’re going to take a cab there. I’ll pay you back. Whatever you do, no matter what you see or feel, just find the entrance to the warehouse and meet me there. You’re going to feel like whatever you’re looking for isn’t there or that you should turn away. Ignore it. The wine will help. Just keep searching for the place; you’ll know it when you see it.”
“Selena, you’re not making any sense,” Evie said before taking another gulp of wine.
“Just do as I say. I’ll meet you there.” And with that, Selena hung up.
Two seconds later, her phone beeped with a message: 235 Princeton Street. Her map app told her that was all the way down in Soho. Jeez, the cab fare would be astronomical from Washington Heights, but now she was intrigued. And Selena said she’d pay. Since her roommate was the one more gainfully employed between the two of them, Evie would take her up on that offer.
She took a last gulp of wine and strode to Selena’s closet, grabbing the garment bag. Evie was a couple of inches taller than Selena, so the dress seemed painfully short, but it fit her frame just right. She quickly turned away from the full-length mirror in front of the closet. She needed to shed a couple of inches around her tummy and hips if she wanted to land any role in a Broadway show. Sure, her curves were okay for the regional theaters in Kansas, but this was the big leagues.
Her phone beeped, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was Selena, urging her to hurry up. So impatient. Where the heck were they going anyway?
***
The cab dropped her off in the approximate spot where 235 Princeton St. should have been. The GPS on her phone didn’t seem to be working, so Evie had to guesstimate where it was. She was still feeling warm and fuzzy from the wine, which didn’t help her concentration.
Even though it was a weeknight, this part of New York was usually lively, but this particular section seemed to be quiet. Weird. She looked up, searching for numbers in the small, darkened alleyway that was supposedly Princeton St. A strange, cold feeling passed over her, making her skin prickle, and a small voice in her head told her she should just go somewhere else. No. Selena said to just keep searching, so Evie kept walking down the alleyway, ignoring her instinct. Her head was still light from the half bottle of wine she had polished off (she took a last swig before she left, then decided to just finish the entire thing).
Her ears perked up when she heard some noise and saw a light up ahead. There was a line forming outside a warehouse. Ah, that must be it. Was this some secret club? How did Selena know it would be here?
Evie approached the queue of people, noticing how everyone seemed to be dressed in their best outfits. And that the crowd was mostly women, all dolled up for a night on the town. Everyone seemed excited, chatting and laughing with their friends. After standing in line for a few minutes, more women queued up behind her.
“Wow, this must be a popular club,” she remarked to the woman next to her.
The woman, a blonde in a hot pink dressed, giggled. “Well, it is Merlin’s.”
“Merlin’s?” Did Selena’s family own a club in Manhattan? She had never mentioned it before.
“Aww, are you a newbie, sweetie?” another woman asked. “Which coven are you from?”
Evie froze. This was a witch hangout. No wonder she felt strange walking here and it was hidden. Whoever owned it must have cast some sort of protection spell. “Um … Kansas,” she lied. It might be far enough away that the witch wouldn’t know anyone from there.
“Oh wow, are you visiting New York then?”
“Er, sort of.”
The blond witch giggled. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. We’re all here for the same thing.” She glanced behind her, at her girlfriends. “We’re from Jersey. We drove all the way here for the show.” The witch introduced herself as Mary and her friends as Alice, Felicity, and Gretchen.
“I’m Evie,” she said.
“Are you all alone?” Alice asked.
“Um, my friend Selena is already inside. I’m supposed to go in and find her.” She opened her black leather clutch and fished out her phone. Oh farts. The phone was dead. The GPS must have sucked up the battery. Well, if this club was called Merlin’s, then she was definitely in the right place. She’d just have to find Selena inside. But what would they do here? Selena wasn’t exactly the clubbing type. She didn’t even go to bars. Her roommate and best friend was a geek at heart and loved sci-fi and fantasy TV shows, books, and movies. Her idea of fun was watching Lord of the Rings for the millionth time.
“Oh, it’s our first time, too,” Mary said. “I’m looking forward to the show.”
“What show exactly?” That question made the other girls look at each other and burst into giggles.
“It’s a—oohh! Line’s moving.” Mary nudged her forward. “If you can’t find your friend, you can sit with us.”
Evie stumbled forward, nearly bumping into the group of women in front of her before steadying herself. The queue moved quickly, and they were ushered inside the warehouse doors. Red velvet ropes herded them, single file, all the way to the front where the bouncer was checking IDs. She slipped her hand into her handbag, ready to take out her driver’s license, when she suddenly stopped short.
The bouncer was tall, perhaps the tallest man Evie had ever seen, about six or seven inches over six feet. He had reddish blond hair, and a beard covered the lower half of his face, which was handsome, despite the deep scar that ran from his right eye to his cheek. In fact, Evie thought it made him even more attractive, adding a roughness and sense of danger to his striking features. Wide, muscled shoulders stretched under a tight black t-shirt and showed off tattoos that ran down his powerful arms. His face was drawn into a serious scowl as he checked IDs, seemingly unaware as each woman devoured him with their eyes.
A surge of jealousy coursed through Evie. What the hell? She didn’t even know the hot bouncer guy, yet she wanted to claw each woman’s eyes out for looking at him like that. She pushed down the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t notice anything off as she waited her turn for inspection.
Evie drew closer to him, and he seemed even more imposing and intimidating up close. Finally, she stood right in front of him, so near that she got a whiff of his cologne—hmmm, coffee beans? Strange. But good. The scent seemed to wrap around her, tickling her senses and sending a weird, thrilling feeling through her entire body. Get a hold of yourself, she said silently as she handed over her driver’s license. She let out a small squeak as he took the card from her, their fingertips lightly touching. A jolt of electricity went up her arm. As she looked up, a pair of startlingly bright green eyes stared down at her as his nostrils flared. She blushed, feeling his gaze on her as heat spread across her body, but stared right back at him.
Lycan.
Perhaps it was her own Lycan heritage that made her sensitive to detecting when another person was a shifter. After all, she’d been around them all her life. Even though her parents divorced when she was ten and her father retained custody, she was properly registered with the clan and knew most of the shifters in Kansas City. She couldn’t sense the animal in them as other Lycans could, but she just knew.
There was something strange about this Lycan though, something she couldn’t put her finger on. What was he doing working here, at a witch night club? Lycans and witches weren’t enemies or anything, but they tended to stay away from each other.
The sound of someone clearing her throat made them both startle and break eye contact, and hot bouncer quickly glanced down at her ID. Evie waited patiently, and it seemed like he took forever.
“Sorry. Can’t let you in,” he said in a low voice that seemed to match exactly what Evie thought he would sound like. Rough. Sexy. Made for the bedroom. A panty-melting voice. She blinked up at him when she realized what he had said.
“Excuse me?” she asked. “That’s my real ID. I’m from Kansas.”
He shoved the card back at her. “It looks fake.”
Her jaw dropped, and she pushed it back again. “Look at it again. It’s real.”
“I’ve never seen a Kansas driver’s license, so I can’t be sure.”
Even if he was handsome, he was starting to get on her nerves. What kind of place was this? “Well, what are we supposed to do? Call the Kansas DMV?”
He shrugged. “Company policy. I can’t let you in if I suspect there’s something wrong with your identification.”
“But I don’t have any other ID!” she whined. “My friend is in there; she can vouch for me.”
He frowned. “Then go call her.”
“My phone’s dead. Do you have one I can borrow?”
“Lady, I ain’t a cellphone company,” he replied. “Now get out of here.”
“You’re rude,” Evie exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips. She looked up at him, craning her neck up to meet his steely gaze. “I demand to talk to your manager.”
“Evie?” Mary asked, peeking around from behind her. “What’s going on here?”
“This …obstinate ox won’t let me in,” Evie huffed. “Said my ID was fake.”
“Oh, c’mon now,” Mary said. “She’s obviously over 21. You know this place has magical protections; I bet they have a spell that ensures no minors can even find it. Just let her in.”
Hot bouncer crossed his tree trunk-like arms over his chest. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”
Mary, Alice, and Gretchen stepped forward, their eyes narrowing at the bouncer. “How can you tell her ID is fake? We’re not from New York either, are you going to say our IDs are fake, too?”
Hot bouncer remained rooted to the spot, unmoving. “Maybe you ladies should go someplace else.”
Gretchen let out an angry snort. “Where’s the manager? We want to talk to him.”
Evie stepped forward, going toe to toe with him, despite the fact that she had to crane her head back even farther to look him in the eye. “When I prove my ID isn’t fake, I’m going to demand they fire you.”
“What’s going on here?” another man said as he came up to them. He was dark-haired with startling blue eyes. He wasn’t as tall as the bouncer, but he was also well-muscled and dressed similarly in a black shirt and dark jeans. Probably another bouncer, from the look of him.
“This asshole won’t let our friend in,” Mary said, jerking her thumb at the Hot Bouncer.
He looked at Hot Bouncer, who shrugged. “Her ID doesn’t check out. You know we can’t risk our jobs here.”
“I’m sure he’s got a good reason to keep you ladies back,” he said to Mary. “We do have a policy here, and we can’t let you in if there’s something suspicious with your IDs.”
“But her ID is just fine!” Mary protested.
“We want to see your manager,” Gretchen repeated.
“Fine,” the blue-eyed bouncer said. “I’ll grab him and let him explain our policy.” He walked away, leaving them alone with Hot Bouncer.
“Just you wait,” Evie muttered, planting her hands on her hips. Selena probably knew the manager, if she was related to the owner.
He let out a grunt. “Step aside, ladies,” he said. “We have other guests wanting to come in.” A large hand grabbed Evie’s arm, gently but firmly dragging her to the side. Another jolt of electricity shot through her arm, and she pulled away from his unnerving touch.
“Let go of me, asshole!” On impulse, she raised her clutch and slapped it across his arm as hard as she could. He didn’t even flinch, but fury blazed in his eyes.
Screams, shouts, and a loud crash made both of them stop and turn their heads toward the source of the commotion. There was a man running toward them, rushing between Evie and the bouncer, making them jump apart. And hot on his heels was a very large, fully-transformed Lycan wolf, running at full speed toward them.
“Holy shit,” Evie exclaimed.
“Fucking Quinn!” Hot Bouncer cursed. He pushed Evie aside, sending her sprawling into Mary and her friends as the wolf crashed into his arms, sending both man and animal to the ground.
There were more shouts coming from the inside, and Evie and the other women got to their feet.
“Let’s get out of here!” someone, either Gretchen or Alice, said as she tugged at Evie’s arm.
Evie froze for a second. For some reason, she didn’t want to leave. But then she remembered he was a Lycan, too and probably could take the wolf. She quickly followed the other girls, running down the alleyway as other people followed them.
There weren’t a lot of people, but, in the chaos, Evie was separated from Mary and her friends. She kept walking away from the alley, stumbling out into the main street. She let out a sigh, the cool air entering her lungs. New York wasn’t exactly known for the quality of its air, but, at least out here, the atmosphere felt more real. Whatever that place was, it definitely wasn’t somewhere she should have been.
She walked a couple of blocks, rubbing her arms, trying to get rid of the creepie crawlies over her skin. The image of bright green eyes flashed in her mind, but she pushed it aside. Maybe it was a good thing she never made it inside the club, but now she was stuck out here.
“Shit.” Where the hell was Selena? Was she inside?
Evie considered her options, but, without a working phone, she didn’t know what to do. When she saw a passing cab, she hailed it and got in. It was her best friend’s fault she was out here, so she could cover the cab fare back home, too. “Washington Heights,” she told the cabbie, and the taxi began to head uptown.
The ride back was relatively quick, and, after swiping her credit card on the terminal, Evie stepped out and walked into her apartment building. As soon as she entered the apartment, she ran to the living room and plugged in her phone. The battery icon blinked red on the screen, but, after a few seconds, it came to life. The moment it came on, she pressed the phone icon to call Selena, but another call came in and she ended up picking up that one instead.
“Hello?”
“Evie,” Richard said. “I’ve been calling you all night. Please, can we talk?”
She gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I swear, Evie, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll fly to New York right now if you don’t hang up.”
“What about that video?” she said, feeling the anger rise up in her again. She had almost forgotten about it, about Richard and his sex video. Instead, she had been thinking about bright green eyes, tattoos, and a handsome face drawn into a scowl. She normally didn’t go for those kinds of guys. She preferred clean-cut professionals who looked good in a suit, like Richard.
“It was a mistake. I’ve never had sex with anyone else, I swear. Just that one time,” he said. “And it’ll never happen again.”
Evie rubbed her temple. “I don’t know …”
“We can talk,” Richard began. “Just talk. Talk it out.”
She let out a sigh. Could she really throw away her four-year relationship with him? Those years weren’t all bad; in fact, they had been very good. It was only when she left that Richard cheated, and, those other times, he didn’t even have sex with the women.
And tonight, she herself had been drunk when she went to that club. Oh God. That was it. She was drunk and feeling horny because it had been months since she’d seen Richard. And then that hot bouncer … She couldn’t be a hypocrite, now, could she? “Fine.” She plopped down on the couch. “Just talk.”
***
Three Months Ago…
Connor opened his eyes slowly. It was dark, and it took him a second to recover from the nightmares that kept his sleep light. He grabbed the watch hidden under his pillow out of habit. It was an old digital watch, and the numbers and letters glowed green in the dark. The rubber strap on the thing had broken long ago, but even if it hadn’t, there was no way it would have fit him now. Not that he wore it. All he cared about was the flashing numbers displayed on the front as he pressed the button on the side. Time. Date. He let out a long-held breath when he saw the year, and his body began to relax.
He reached toward the bedside table, hitting the switch on the wall which filled the dark room with soft light. By now, he was sure which button to press, which meant he had stayed in this hotel too long. Rubbing his hand over his face, he sat up, tossed the covers off his body. He walked to the window, pushing the blackout curtains aside.
New York City in winter was still pretty busy, but at least the holiday season had passed, and those goddamn tourists weren’t clogging up the streets anymore. He gave an unhappy grunt, thinking of the crowds and people and the chaos. He hated living in New York, but he didn’t have much of a choice. His sister, Meredith, wanted to stay here with her warlock husband, and pledged to the New York Lycan clan. And then there was the offer from Sebastian Creed to head up his shifter security team. With their adoptive father gone, there was no reason to stay in Portland. Plus, he and his two brothers could have a fresh start in New York. But, he didn’t realize how crowded and cramped the Big Apple would be. How the hell could any Lycan stand it? The people, the noise, the smell, the frenzy, and those big buildings everywhere—it set him on edge.
No, this was for the best. New York was where Meredith, Killian, and Quinn wanted to be. He had to be there, to safeguard what was left of his family, especially when he failed to protect their father and mentor. Thoughts of Archie Leacham flooded his mind, but he quickly pushed them aside. The old master thief had been avenged. Though he wanted to wring Rodrigo Baeles’ neck until his head popped off, the bastard was rotting away in the Lycan prison facility in Siberia, which he supposed was good enough. He and his siblings were back together again, and they were working together, just like old times, albeit on the right side of the law.
Collecting his thoughts, he ran through the events of the past few days. They had arrived back late last night from their latest overseas operation. Connor glanced at the clock. Killian was probably at the offices of Lone Wolf Security by now. He said he was taking care of something, but Connor couldn’t recall what. His brother had asked that they all come in for a debrief this morning. It was part of the job, after all, but Connor hated it. He hated going into the office, although it was what kept their family together. Reuniting the Lone Wolves with their families and running ops for Creed kept them busy, gave them an anchor and something to keep them steady.
However, his siblings didn’t know he had a third purpose, one that kept him going. Revenge. And the key was hidden inside the manila envelope tucked inside the hotel safe. A list of names. A final gift from Archie, one that drove him forward. Soon. Soon he’d have his revenge. Hopefully, before it was too late.
He shook his head and drew the curtains together, then walked to the shower to get ready. He stepped under the rainfall shower and turned on the tap, letting the hot water hit his skin. One advantage of living in hotel rooms all the time was the luxurious living. Perhaps living with Archie had made him spoiled and soft over the years, but he didn’t care. It was millions of miles away from the way he lived before.
“Fuck,” he cursed, as the memories and nightmares flooded back to him. He shut off the shower and slammed his palm on the slick tiles, bracing himself. It was never this bad. But ever since he met Daric, Meredith’s husband, it was like a dam had opened. The fucking warlock could see the past and the future, and he got inside Connor’s mind. He saw it. Not everything, but enough. Daric probably didn’t even know what he unleashed.
Walking out of the stall, he took one of the fluffy towels from the warmer and dried himself off, then dressed in a black sweater and jeans, before putting on his coat. As a Lycan shifter, he didn’t need it, even in winter, but he put it on anyway to keep up appearances. Blending in was essential to being a wolf shifter, especially when the humans knew nothing of their existence.
Connor grabbed his phone, wallet, and key card, then stuffed them into his pockets. The Royal Albert Hotel was close enough to the Lone Wolf office that he could walk there, which was one of the reasons he made it his base for the last month. But he knew it was time to go soon. Finding a permanent home was simply impossible for him. Not when he knew his control was slipping. It was much easier to switch hotels every month or so, hand them his black credit card, and tell the management to bill him for everything, including all the damages. After all, many luxury hotels were willing to overlook their guests’ “eccentricities” if they paid enough.
He walked a couple of blocks, and then soon found himself in front of their building. He hated the office, especially the ancient elevator he had to take to get to their floor. The old thing had metal bars and the screech they made as he slid them open and close again brought back memories of another life. He gnashed his teeth together, pressed the button, then the elevator jolted and began to rise. When they first moved here, he took the stairs, all ten flights. But his siblings started to get suspicious, so he trained himself to take the elevator. He had overcome far worse things, and a fucking elevator wasn’t going to do him in.
The door to the office was unlocked, and the lights were on, which meant Killian was already here. Boxes, old coffee cups, folders, and furniture still wrapped in plastic were scattered all over the reception area. They didn’t have time to unpack, as Sebastian Creed had them running ops all over the world as soon as they signed their contracts. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it, not being in New York and finally being able to release some of the tension by doing what he did best—kicking ass. Even now, being cooped up in this tiny space was setting his teeth on edge.
He was about to hang his coat on the rack by the door when a familiar scent wafted into his nose. Peaches. So sweet and ripe he could almost taste it. He froze and dropped his coat on the ground, then saw the unfamiliar blue parka hanging from the rack. Reaching forward, he touched it with his fingertips. Definitely peaches and definitely familiar. What the hell was going on?
Connor strode to the office at the end of the hallway and yanked the door open. “Hey Killian, what the—You!” The scent was stronger in here, and he immediately knew who it was.
That familiar face. Those light, toffee-colored eyes. And that sweet, sweet scent that had been haunting him for weeks. The brunette standing in Killian’s office, shaking his hand, suddenly froze and then her face went ashen when she saw him. With his enhanced senses, he could hear the thundering of her heartbeat and the scent of fear mixing with peaches. He didn’t know why, but that made something in him ache. And Killian touching her hand wasn’t making it any better. Why the fuck did he suddenly want to smash his brother’s face in?
“I … I didn’t know … you …” She looked back at Killian. “Oh my God, I thought you looked familiar!”
“What’s going on?” Killian looked from Connor to the brunette. “Have we met before?”
“The night at Merlin’s,” Connor growled. “She hit me with her purse.” What the hell was a Lycan doing at a witch strip club, anyway? All those men in there, half naked, gyrating their hips and showing off their bodies. It was no place for a girl like her, and he made sure she never saw the inside. Getting smacked in the arm with her purse was worth it, especially since it didn’t even hurt.
“It’s because you were a stupid and obstinate ox,” the brunette huffed, her eyes sending daggers at him. Suddenly, her face fell, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. Sorry about this. I’m … I’ll go now. Thank you for the interview.” She sidestepped Connor and then walked out the door. That ache in his middle came back. Interview?
“Wait—” Meredith, his sister, who he just realized was also in the office, called out to the hallway. She then turned her gaze toward Connor, her amber eyes narrowing. “What’s going on here? How do you know Evie again?”
Evie. So that was her name. It fit her. But what was she doing here? “She was that girl who caused trouble for us at that witch strip club,” Connor explained, barely containing the snarl in his throat. “Everything was going fine with our op, and then she tried to get in, all liquored up, causing a scene, and I wouldn’t let her through.” Okay, so she wasn’t liquored up, but he could smell the alcohol on her breath as her plump pink lips parted when she talked. She wasn’t in full control of herself, and he had saved her from making a foolish mistake. Like watching a bunch of men parade their bodies in front of her.
“As I recall,” Meredith began. “It was Quinn going full Lycan in a room full of witches and warlocks that caused trouble for us.”
“What the fuck was she doing there, anyway?” Connor really wanted to know now. “A Lycan in a witch strip joint?”
“She’s not a Lycan, moron,” Meredith shot back.
Not a Lycan? But she had a scent. Only Lycans had scents. “Then why does she—”
“Yo, what’s up?” Quinn walked in. His second brother glanced around. “Who’s the cute skirt I saw running out of here? Connor, did she see your ugly mug and run the other direction?”
Connor growled. His youngest brother screwed anything that moved and, while it normally didn’t bother him, this time it did. He wanted Quinn to stay the fuck away from Evie.
“Don’t you start, Quinn,” Killian groaned. “Is she still out there?”
Quinn shrugged. “Probably. Waiting on the elevator, maybe. You know that rickety old thing takes ages.”
“Good.” Killian rushed out, presumably to chase after Evie. Part of him wanted Killian to fail, to chase her away. She didn’t need to be caught up in their messed-up life. But the other part of him …
A low rumble tore through his chest, and he faltered for a moment. No. Fuck no. Not again.
Meredith visibly flinched but said nothing. Instead, his sister straightened her shoulders. “So, let me get this straight. Evie was there the night we had the op at Merlin’s, you refused to let her in, and she hit you with her purse?”
He grunted. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Yeah, Connor?” Quinn asked, a glint in his eye. “Why?”
He looked at Meredith, then Quinn and scowled. “Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because … fuck you, Quinn, I don’t gotta explain myself to you. You were the one who screwed things up!”
“Oh my God, she was the girl who was staring you down! And she really hit you?” Meredith laughed. “I wish I’d seen it! Why wasn’t I …” She trailed off and her lips curved into a smile. “Oh yeah. Daric and I were in this closet and—”
“Shut up, Meredith,” Connor groused. He did not need to keep hearing that shit. Sure, Daric was her husband now, but thinking of his only little sister having sex made his stomach turn.
“She’s cute, huh?” Quinn said.
Connor recognized that look in his brother’s eyes. Oh, fuck no. It was a good thing Evie was gone. If Quinn got his hands on her, Connor really would have to punch his face in. Hitting him with her handbag aside, Eve was probably a nice girl. She had that fresh-faced, innocent look. He bet she wasn’t even from New York. She didn’t have that hardened, cynical aura most of the city dwellers had.
He thought for a moment. She looked a little different from that night, though. Of course, she was wearing that sinful, short red dress that showed off her curves and enough of her creamy skin that he wanted to kill any man who looked at her. That was months ago, and he noticed the change in her body today. The skirt suit she wore didn’t fit her properly and hung looser on her frame. He didn’t care, but was she starving herself? He stifled a growl. He realized he preferred her with more curves. She was apparently here for a job interview; maybe she didn’t have money to eat properly. Why was no one taking care of this girl?
“Hello? Earth to Connor?” Quinn snapped his fingers in front of his face.
“Quit it.” He swatted Quinn’s hand away. “Don’t fucking do that. Ever again.”
“Jeez, tell me, were you born with that stick up your ass?” Quinn groaned. “Hey, you know there’s a proctologist’s office down the road. I bet he could take care of that for you.”
“Shut the hell up, Quinn,” Connor warned, stepping forward.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Meredith rolled her eyes. “Stop it, you two. I’m drowning in testosterone. See, this is why we need Evie around here. This sausage party isn’t working for me.”
“What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Mer?” Quinn asked. “Last time I checked, this was Lone Wolf Security. Not Lone Wolf and Sister Security.”
“I’m here to help you with office stuff,” Meredith said. “And if you’ve scared Evie off, you’ll probably be seeing more of me.”
“That’s going to—”
“You can’t—”
“All right, stop. Stop.” Killian strode back into his office, his face drawn into a serious expression. “What are you arguing about now?”
“Connor being a dickhole to Evie,” Meredith barked. “I like her. I want to keep her. Even though she is taking my job.”
“She’s not a pet, Mer,” Quinn added
“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “I have this feeling we need her. And she needs us.”
“You were always the one taking in strays like you were some Disney princess.”
Connor had to agree with Quinn. Meredith had this mother hen quality, even though she was the youngest of all of them. Mother hen might be putting it too mildly. She was more like a rabid dog when she got an idea in her head, refusing to let go until she had her way. And being their only sister, they often had no choice but to give in. He had a feeling this was not going to end well for him.
Killian let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s not some lost animal. Listen to me. Evie is the most qualified person to help us out here. I’ve hired her. She’ll come in on a part-time basis and work around our schedule if she has to. Don’t scare her away,” he warned. “That means, no growling at her,” he said to Connor. “No hitting on her,” he looked at Quinn, “and no smothering her with your constant need to get into everyone’s business.”
All three of them looked at each other. Killian meant business. He had been stressed, much more so than they had been that last couple of months. They could all feel there was something going on with their brother since Archie died, he must have been feeling the pressure of now becoming the head of their little adoptive family. He had changed a lot and was much more closed off from them.
Connor grunted. Fine. If hiring Evie would help his brother, he’d agree. And it wouldn’t be a problem for him. If she was going to work here, then he was just going to stay the hell away from the office from now on. He would avoid Evie as much as possible. That first time he saw her, he felt it. Felt out of control and, if he were honest, it scared the shit out of him. Because if he lost control, he knew it would mean the end. The last option for all Lycans who couldn't control their wolves.
But before that, he wanted to make sure he completed his revenge by making everyone who turned him into a monster pay for what they had done.