Sheridan

I haven’t seen Trey all week, which is beyond strange. He’s never given me any reason to feel insecure about him. About us.

In fact, since that night on the beach when I made the first move and plunked down beside him at the fire, all his focus has been on me. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t hang with his buddies, Garrett and Jared, but that’s usually if I’m too busy.

This week, though, he’s been working on motorcycles and hanging out at Garrett’s every day after school. He told me he wouldn’t be able to give me a ride home today when I ate with him at lunch, and he’s been distracted and quiet—not that he was ever Mr. Talkative.

It’s Friday night and I text him after dinner. A bunch of kids are going up on the mesa to drink and hang out. It’s the usual weekend scene and if he and I don’t do something just the two of us, we often meet there.

Me: You heading to the mesa?

Trey: Nah, I have some shit to do.

My stomach knots because I sense the lie straight through the screen. He’s never lied to me before. Never been anything but up front. Why would he? Does this have something to do with selling dope for Garrett? Maybe they’re in trouble. I’ve never liked that Garrett, Jared and Trey are the pot dealers for Wolf Ridge and the nearby ‘burbs like Cave Creek and Scottsdale. It’s sort of that thing we’ve tacitly agreed not to speak of.

Yes, they are wolves, which means human dealers and potheads would have a hard time hurting them, but a bullet to the head would still kill a wolf. And they’re not above the law, either.

And with Trey’s history—after what his dad did—he’d be out of the pack in the blink of an eye if the cops ever pulled him in for anything at all.

Because I’m not one to just roll over, I call him on it.

Me: Why don’t you tell me what’s really up?

Trey: …

He doesn’t answer for five minutes. Then:

Trey: Meet me at our table.

I know what table he means. The picnic table where we first made love. I grab my purse and head out, my heart thudding. I imagine all kinds of bad scenarios—Trey’s already been caught by the cops and no one knows, they’re being hunted by a dealer, someone’s hurt.

I drive straight to our picnic table and find Trey already there. He’s looking over the side of the mountain toward the city. The sunset casts pink and orange hues over the earth, reflects off the Saguaro needles, making them glow.

Trey doesn’t turn around, which shoots another spike of fear through my chest.

I walk to stand beside him. “What’s up?”

“Hey.” He doesn’t turn to look at me.

Goosebumps stand up on my arms. What in the hell could be so wrong?

“Trey, what’s going on?” I demand.

His throat bobs in a swallow. “I think we should see other people.”

Air comes out of my lungs in a choked laugh. Not that I think he’s joking. Not at all. It’s just so far from what I expected that my body chooses the wrong reaction.

“What are you talking about?” My voice cracks. I ball my hands up because they’re shaking so hard I don’t know what to do with them. I want to punch him, to push him down the hill. To make him take it back.

“Yeah. You’re leaving at the end of the summer, so I just figure we should cut our losses early. I’m ready to play the field again.”

“Play the field?” My brain can hardly compute his words—they are so out of character. Trey never was a play the field kind of guy to begin with. This makes no sense.

“Are you trying to make sure I go to Stanford?” I croak.

He turns, finally looking at me, and I swear I see nothing but pure agony in his gaze, but just like that, it disappears and his expression hardens. He shrugs. “You’re going. I’m seeing other people. That’s how this works.”

I stumble back.

This isn’t Trey talking.

Not the Trey I know.

Trey would never be so callous, so cruel.

“It’s for the best, Sheridan.”

I shove him. “Just tell me what this is about, Trey. Tell me.”

Pain flickers over his expression. His lips tighten before he opens them to speak. “I’m letting you go.” He flips his keys around his finger and walks to his motorcycle.

I run at him, shove him from behind. “You’re fucking everything up!” Tears choke my voice, spill hot down my cheek.

He bows his head, barely turning his face toward me. “I know.” His voice is so quiet, a human ear wouldn’t hear the words. Before I can answer, he’s on the bike and moving, away from me.

Away from us.

Away from everything I thought had meaning.

Sheridan

“You okay?” Luka asks.

I set down the bottle with exaggerated gentleness even though I want to yell and scream and cry. It’s amateur night at the club, and a bunch of biker cats surround the cage, yelling for or at one of their friends. Trey’s nowhere to be seen. Since our meeting in the office, he’s avoided me.

And even though I’ve spent the night peering into dark corners, looking for evidence of vampire/drug activity, I’ve seen nothing. Not even a flash of fang. I’m busting my hump pouring drinks and laughing at lame pickup lines, and I won’t even have something to report to my pack. I need a t-shirt: I visited Shifter Fight Club and all I got was beer spilled on my corset dress.

“Fine.” I smile a little when he pours me a shot. Luka’s not a bad shifter bartender—a job that requires finesse and speed and a sense of shifter politics, particularly when dealing with drunken, fight-ready big cat bikers. But he really can’t make change. He’s desperate to keep me.

I usually don’t drink on the job, but tonight’s kicked me in the teeth, and this isn’t my real job. I lift the glass to my lips and savor the burn.

Then I see who’s standing at the bar and almost choke.

Nero, the leech, leans on the polished wood, silky blond hair falling in his face. “Hello again.”

I slam the shot glass down, not worrying about whether it will break. I’m a she-wolf, and I feel safer showing strength.

“What’s your poison?” I ask. “We don’t have a ton of arsenic back here, but for you…”

“So impolite.” The vamp shows his teeth. I stare at a point on his forehead, feigning boredom. Even I know not to look a leech in the eye. “And here I was going to give you a big tip.”

“Save it,” I mutter and start to turn away.

He pulls out a few bills and waves them in my direction. All of them Benjamins. Why would a vamp carry so much cash? He’s in a nicely tailored suit and looks like he just came from a job downtown where the plaque on his office door reads ‘Analyst,’ but I doubt he got that stack shorting stocks. Is he here to deal?

I stop to ponder this, and he smirks, thinking he caught my attention with some green. “Hennessy Paradis.”

I fight the urge to laugh. Who comes to a rundown shifter club and orders cognac? Only a vampire.

Instead I hand him a bottle of Wolf Ridge. A new IPA my company is calling ‘Luna-tic.’

Nero grimaces like I’ve given him a bag of dung.

“Try it,” I say sweetly. “I’d garnish it, but we’re fresh out of garlic.” I don’t wait to see if he does try it. I don’t care. Everything is wrong about this place. Vampires are hanging out in a shifter bar like they own the place, and Trey doesn’t seem to care.

I grab a rag and swipe the bar, and a strong, cool hand grasps my wrist. I snarl, catching the stoney scent of the vampire.

“Be still,” he hisses, a seductive tone that chills me. Vampires can control people with their gaze. But some of the old ones only need to use their voice.

“Let go of me,” I growl and he does, but stays close, his manicured fingernails drumming on the bar.

“I need to give you your tip, little wolf.”

I want to grab a bottle and smash it against the bar, and use the shards to cut off a vampire’s head. But something’s up, and I need to find out what.

He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and folds it in half. I swear to the fates, if he tries to tuck it between my breasts, I will clock the guy. “Are you coming to the territory meeting tonight?” he murmurs.

I go still. “What territory meeting?”

“We invited the wolves out for a discussion. Midnight. Santa Cruz wash, south of Congress.”

I raise my head and look at the clock on the wall. It’s almost eleven.

Nero drops the C-note on the bar, puts a finger to his lips and glides away, leaving me cold.

“You all right?” Luka asks for the second time.

“Yeah.” I try to shake off the eerie chill running through my limbs. There is nothing natural about a vampire. “How long have the leeches been coming around?”

“Since the beginning. There are a few in town who run No Return, a nightclub on Congress.” The shifter shrugs. “They’re all right. But this is a new crowd. Lucius Frangelico, an old vampire king, moved outta Hollywood, starting over. They do that, you know, every fifty years. So people don’t realize they don’t age.”

“Yeah. But what’s he doing here?” I whisper the question to myself, watching Nero’s back as the tall vampire heads deeper into the club. He ignores the fight, going straight to a side door, opening it and disappearing.

Luka picks up the bottle he left, and drops it into the recycle barrel, glass clinking against glass. The sound jerks me out of my trance.

“Here.” Luka hands me the hundred-dollar bill Nero left. “You earned it.”

At ten to midnight, I rinse my hands and slip away, telling Luka I need a break. I thread through the groups of shifters standing around talking about the last fight, and when I reach the side door Nero took, I hesitate only a second before pushing through it. I don’t know what’s going on with the leeches in what should be wolf territory, but if Trey and my cousin won’t talk to me, Nero might. If not, maybe he can lead me to this Lucius Frangelico vampire king. Once I find out, I can report back to my Alpha and my dad, and go home. Before history repeats itself with Trey.

The night air is cool on my face as I walk. It’s easy, way too easy to follow the vampire’s scent.

Trey

Moonlight pools in the arroyo, lining the ruts thirsty for water. There’s no sound but the highway in the distance and the crunch of our boots on the dry rock.

“How much farther?” Jared asks, just as a large shadow detaches from a group of rocks and flows down into the empty basin.

“There.” Tank, the pack’s second in command, jerks his chin towards the shadow, which cleaves into several distinct bodies. My skin prickles as I recognize the new arrivals. Dark and suit clad, with slick hair and inhuman good looks. Vampires.

My lips curl automatically, showing my teeth.

Garrett waves us forward. He marches right up to the group of vampires, stopping a few feet away from their leader. Tank, Jared and I fan out behind him, acting cool and unafraid. A few more of our pack take up watch positions in case the leeches decide to ambush us. So far they’ve acted in good faith, but I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them. I’m not sure how far I can throw a vampire, but it sounds like a great way to relieve stress.

“Alpha,” the vampire leader greets Garrett. The kingpin, as we call him, is lean like a runner, with swarthy skin and an impeccably tailored suit. His name is Lucius Frangelico and he looks like he should have some corny Transylvanian accent. Instead, he speaks in cultured tones, like a BBC newscaster. “What a fine night you chose for our meeting.”

Behind Frangelico, the rest of the vampires stare at us like snakes, unblinking. They’re all perfectly groomed and wearing dark suits, mirror images of their boss. They look like fucking yuppies who stepped out of the office to get a cold brew, but their scent tells me they’re old. We’re not sure how old, but between me and a few of my hacker friends, we’ve traced properties their leader has held for over two hundred years. The shell corporation changes every few decades, but everything ties back to Frangelico.

“Glad you all could make it,” Garrett answers blandly.

Lucius tilts his head to the side. It’s a natural movement, but I get the feeling it’s one he’s studied and copied. He waves a hand at his gang. “These are my lieutenants, Maximus, Nero, Tiberius and Augustus.”

“The Roman Empire called,” I mutter to Jared. “They want their emperors back.” My best friend chuckles silently, his shoulders shaking.

In front of us, Garrett hooks his thumbs in his jeans and lets his chin drop. On any other wolf it would be a submissive pose, but our Alpha is so big, he’s still looking down on all but the tallest of the leeches.

“That’s a lot of mouths to feed,” he says thoughtfully, and Jared and I stop joking.

“That is why we meet, no?” Lucius spreads his large hands. He’s pretty big for a leech. Most of them are pretty boy thin and—forgive me—anemic. “To work out territory.”

“Tucson’s not big enough for all of us, plus your gang.”

“We prefer the word nest,” Nero corrects. At a hand signal from Frangelico, he comes forward, offering a sheet of paper. “Here is a map of the area. We have marked out ample territory for the wolves, with access to the all the mountain ranges, of course. We merely wish to dwell west of the Santa Cruz, and south of Congress street. To hunt and feed in peace.”

At Garrett’s signal, I move forward and meet the sleek-looking vampire halfway, keeping my gaze somewhere between his ear and his shoulder. Without touching his fingers, I grab the map and hand it to Tank.

He and Garrett study it a moment, and when Garrett looks up, his eyes glow with anger. “See, we have a problem with this. Because you don’t hunt and feed off rabbits or deer. You hunt humans.”

Moonlight glints off Lucius’ fangs. “My children are too well-trained to make a mess of our food.”

“I’ve heard otherwise. I heard you got into a turf war in L.A., and your victims ended up drained dry.”

“A small issue only.” Frangelico waves a hand. “Here I have no enemies. I offer you much to continue the goodwill between our species.”

“What exactly are you offering?” Tank asks, folding beefy arms over his chest.

“The continued survival of your pack,” Lucius replies, and the temperature plunges twenty degrees.

“What makes you think you’d survive a fight with our pack?” Garrett asks.

“You are young. You have only begun to take mates. You have too much to lose.” Lucius’ voice is matter-of-fact as he recites his reasons. He’s pretty nonchalant for a guy who just threatened our entire existence.

And our mates.

But he’s right. Our strongest pack members—Garrett, Jared and Tank—all have mates they would do anything to protect. And she’s not my mate, but fuck if the image of Sheridan in her goddamn corset-dress doesn’t materialize in my mind, making my fingers clench into fists. I would die to keep her safe without a moment’s thought.

Loud growls grow in several wolves’ chests. Garrett snaps the map in his hand, and the pack falls silent.

“It says here you’ll be claiming Phoenix for your feeding grounds.” Garrett studies the paper in his hands. “Have you spoken to the pack there? I doubt they’ll be happy to know a new vampire nest is trespassing on their territory.”

“They won’t.” A clear voice drifts down the side of the ravine, and we all turn. Sheridan appears at the top of the hill, swinging a leg over the concrete barrier and making her way down, crunching rocks under her big boots.

“Who is this?” Frangelico asks sharply.

“She’s one of us,” I blurt and lean close to Garrett and Tank to let them know, “It’s Sheridan.”

“What the fuck?” Garrett’s forehead creases, but he motions for Jared and me to go to her. We meet her halfway up the side of the ravine.

“Hello, again,” she says calmly, as if she’s not interrupted a tension-filled meeting between sworn enemies. She’s still wearing my jacket, thank the fates. The whole goth makeup and corset getup makes her look like a depraved Tinkerbell.

“Hi.” I grit my teeth and put a hand out to help keep her from sliding down the loose rocks. She smells like beer and the vanilla-orange scent of her perfume. My favorite scents in the world. My dick perks right up.

I’m still mad as hell. “What in the fuck are you doing here?”

“My job,” she chirps, and strides forward to meet the vampires.

The leeches wait with perfect poker faces, honed over hundreds of years. Lucius moves first, stepping forward with a little bow. “I do not believe we have been introduced.”

“I’m Sheridan Green,” she says, walking right up to stand beside Garrett as if she’s his equal. As if she belongs here. “I represent the Phoenix pack.”

“My lieutenants reported no Phoenix pack,” Lucius tilts his head at Sheridan, questioning.

“Wolf Ridge,” Garrett answers for her. “It’s north of Scottsdale. My father’s the Alpha.”

“Ah yes, Alpha Green. I have heard of his rule and the little schism between him and his son. You are the son?”

“As if you don’t know,” Jared mutters, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This whole playing dumb act of Lucius’ is getting old. He’s trying to be disarming. But we know all about vampire charm. Let it get to you and you’re dead. Sucker food.

I move closer to Sheridan.

“I am,” Garrett answers. “But, as you can see, there is no divide between me and my father’s pack. We are united on all fronts.” His voice holds a warning. Attack one and you’ll have to fight us all. Score one for our alpha.

“I see,” Lucius says pleasantly. “It is well that a Phoenix representative is here. The proposed territory allows my children to feed there as well as here. We can spread out our prey.”

“Spread out the deaths, you mean,” Tank rumbles.

Lucius makes an impatient gesture. “No deaths. And with the opening of our club, we may not have to roam too far.”

“Club? What club?” Sheridan asks. I lay a warning hand on her back, but she doesn’t back down. I sense her tension, but she faces the vampires with a calm, almost bored expression.

“My new club, Toxic,” Frangelico tilts his head towards Sheridan. “You must visit us, my lady.”

“No fucking way,” I mutter, and step in front of Sheridan, putting as much of my body between her and the vampire king as he’ll allow.

Lucius keeps smiling at Sheridan, showing fangs. She smiles right back, her incisors front and center. Her creature-of-the-night outfit has one advantage to it: the hot dress and artful makeup is one hell of a costume. Combined with her smarts, she charms the vampires completely. Too well. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Nero lick his fangs. I bite back a growl.

A crackle of paper and we all snap back to attention. Garrett holds up the map.

“For purposes of a temporary treaty, we agree to this territory,” he says. “Any vampire caught outside will be subject to punishment.”

“If any of mine are caught breaking my rules, I will deal with them myself,” Lucius promises. His voice is smooth, almost a purr. The leech is pleased.

I feel sick. I didn’t glance at the map, but I bet the fight club is right inside the vamp’s territory. Which means we might have to pay tribute or be overrun by leeches hunting their victims. Not that we haven’t been already. Garrett wouldn’t let us throw any vampires out until we met with Frangelico.

“Wait,” Sheridan says. “What about sucre sang?”

There’s a silence as wolves and vampires alike try to make sense of what she said. It sounds vaguely French.

“What is this?” Lucius sounds surprised.

I hear Sheridan’s heartbeat pick up as all eyes turn to her, but her chin lifts and her voice stays strong. “I’ve heard of it in connection with leeches, I mean, vampires. Some sort of drug, right?”

A few of the lieutenants exchange knowing looks. Nero hides his mouth behind a manicured hand.

“Ahh,” Lucius says. “Sweetblood. I had not heard the street name. It is not a drug. Well, not for humans, anyway.”

“Not directly,” Nero murmurs.

“It is for vampires only.” Lucius spreads his hands and looks smug. “You come to our club and I will show you. All of you are welcome, anytime.”

A low growl from Garrett makes the vampire king add, “No harm would come to you or yours. You would be our esteemed guests.”

“All right,” Sheridan says. At first I can’t believe my ears—she’s calling the vampire’s bluff? Lucius inclines his head and Sheridan adds, “I’ll go. Saturday night.” Then she glances up at me and the look on her face...it’s a challenge.

The scraping sound is me gritting my teeth, biting back my response before I say something I regret and set off a war. I can’t stop myself from glaring at Nero when he glides forward and leans towards Sheridan. “You will enjoy yourself, little wolf. I will make sure of it.”

“This meeting’s over,” Garrett growls, thank the fates, and one by one the wolves turn and walk back the way we came. I wait for Sheridan to go, and glare in Nero’s general direction before spinning on my boot. The leech’s laughter starts as soon as I turn my back, unhinges my spine and follows me from the ravine.

Up at the cars, Sheridan is surrounded by the pack, talking to Garrett. I can’t stop myself from marching up and grabbing her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Back off, biker boy,” she spits back, wrenching her arm from my grip. Shit, I forget how strong she is. “You’re not the boss of me.”

I ignore her, turning to Garrett. “She’s not safe here. My bouncer told me one of the leeches—Nero—took an interest in her. You gotta send her back to Phoenix.”

“I’m right here, moonhead,” Sheridan snaps. It’s her turn to grab my arm and jerk me to face her. “I am perfectly fine. I can fight my own battles.”

“The fuck you can,” I growl and talk over her head to Garrett. “Did you hear her? She’s going to go into the leeches territory—to their club!”

“I heard,” Tank says. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“What?” I whirl on him. I swear I’m going to sock somebody in the jaw. My wolf writhes under my skin, ready to wreck someone.

“Hear him out,” Garrett orders.

“We know Frangelico is powerful, right? But we don’t know much about him. We need to know more. Visiting the nightclub is the perfect way to find out more.”

“Then why don’t you go?” I shoot back.

Tank shakes his head. “Can’t. I’m too high up in the pack. Also, I’m a threat.” He shrugs his massive shoulders. “We need someone less thug-like. More professional.”

“A spy,” Garrett agrees, and turns to Sheridan. She flushes but doesn’t drop her gaze. “What do you say, Cuz? You’re already here to keep tabs on us.”

“It’s not like that,” she protests weakly, and for the first time since she’s shown up, she looks uncertain. “I’m not here to spy on you.”

“Uh huh.” Garrett raises a brow. “At least do me the favor of telling the truth.”

She drops her eyes. “They’re worried, and not just about the leeches in our territory. Your pack has been through a lot.” Sheridan sucks the inside of her cheek. It has the unfortunate resemblance to sucking dick, and my cock stiffens to full mast. I almost groan out loud as I shift it in my jeans.

“I know. I’ll call my dad.” Garrett grimaces for a brief moment before smoothing his expression. The rest of us share sympathetic looks. We all know what Alpha Green can be like. After all, we grew up under his rule. Until he kicked us out.

The way some of the pack eyes Sheridan, they haven’t forgotten the part she played in betraying us. Under the weight of the pack’s stare, Sheridan wilts a little. She was one of us, before she turned traitor. “About tonight...I was just trying to help.”

“Help who?” His voice is whip sharp.

Even though I agree with Garrett, my wolf bristles at the way he’s speaking to her. My chest puffs out on its own, shoulders square. Garrett glances at me and takes in my shift of posture.

“Help you.” The waver in Sheridan’s voice bothers me far more than it should. I step closer to her, make it known I’m still her protector, even after the way things went down.

Garrett shrugs. “I know you have to follow your alpha’s orders. Maybe you can be useful to both of us.” His voice turns thoughtful, and I don’t like the look in my alpha’s eye. “What was it you said about the drugs the vampires are dealing? Sugar blood?”

“I only have rumors your dad told me about. Bodies have been turning up around the seedier parts of Phoenix. Drug addicts who OD’d on bad product—that’s what the humans think. Whatever drug it is, it makes the victim’s blood toxic. Too much and they die.”

“That’s not enough to get my dad involved,” Garrett rumbles. “He’s not interested in a human war on drugs.”

“No,” Sheridan agrees. “The reason Alpha Green is worried is because the bodies have been tampered with. Fang marks. Signs of use...by vampires.”

Everyone in the pack sucks in a breath.

“You think Frangelico is behind this?” Tank asks, his eyes narrowed as he puts two and two together. “His vampires are feeding too much, too often, and dumping the bodies, making it look like a drug overdose?”

“That’s correct.” Sheridan nods. “That’s why I came here. We’re listening closely to the human authorities to make sure we catch these deaths early. In case we have to intervene.”

“Intervene,” Tank repeats. “You mean cover up.”

Sheridan raises her chin. “If we have to. The more suspicious the deaths, the more the humans will go poking around into the existence of paranormals.”

“Dangerous for all of us,” Garrett says. “So that’s why you’re looking into Fight Club?”

“No.” Sheridan’s voice is dry. “Fight Club is a problem in and of itself. It’s all over the human police and FBI channels. Alpha Green isn’t happy about that, at all. The club seemed a good place for me to start investigating. Then I met the leech and realized the vampire drug trade and the club might be intertwined.”

“We’re clean,” I put in. “I don’t allow trade on premises.”

“You know as well as I there’s no way of monitoring that, not one hundred percent,” Garrett says. “And even if you do catch one vampire at it, you can’t do more than kick him out. You’d have to bring him to Lucius for discipline, or risk offending the nest.”

I grit my teeth because it’s true.

“If it helps,” Sheridan pipes up, “I think the vampires aren’t messing around with shifters. Just humans they can lure in as victims. I think the club might be cleaner than one run by humans.”

Tension in my gut loosens at Sheridan’s defense of the fight club, and not just because I want to save my club. Having her speak up on my behalf means something to me. Too damn much. I need to cut this cord that binds us so tightly, even after all these years.

“One more thing,” Sheridan adds. “I’m here to investigate, and keep my pack safe, but I don’t want to cover up the deaths. I know we have to hide evidence of paranormal tampering on any bodies we find, but I’m not here to do the vampires’ dirty work. I’m here to stop them.”

My stomach plummets. Sheridan’s got that look in her eye, the one that says she’s planted her flag and will stand by it at all costs. I know that look. The last time, I was the one she chose to stand by. It cost me everything to get her to change her mind. We barely survived the fallout.

“How much have you learned so far?” Garrett asks.

“Not a thing. That’s why I want to visit the vampires’ club. Go straight to the source.”

Garrett and Tank exchange glances. The big guy, second in the pack, nods at our alpha.

“All right.” Garrett turns to Sheridan. “You’ll go to the club.”

“No.” I swear to the fates, I’m ready to shift and fight right there. The thought of Sheridan toddling in there unprotected? I would burn the place down first.

“I can do it. I’ll be all right,” Sheridan says quickly.

Garrett points at me. “You’ll go with her,” he commands.

“No.” It’s Sheridan’s turn to disagree.

“Yes,” Garrett commands. I can’t be sure, but I think a smile glimmers on Garrett’s lips for a moment before disappearing. “I can’t send you alone, Cuz. But Trey will be great back up. The vampires will know you’re under both mine and Wolf Ridge’s protection, and they’ll think twice before messing with you.”

“Fine.” Sheridan nods.

“Fuck, no,” I bite out.

Garrett turns to me. “Make sure no one lays a hand on her.”

I groan again.

“And you”—Garrett rounds on Sheridan, and for the first time raises an eyebrow at her scandalous attire—“I know you’re not my wolf, but this is my territory, and I’m responsible for you. Next time you plan on barging into a vampire meeting, you give me some fucking warning.” His voice holds all the weight of his command.

“I will.” Sheridan ducks her head. If she was in wolf form, she might put her tail between her legs. I’d be surprised, except Sheridan always cowed to authority, and Garrett has it in spades now that he’s his own alpha.

“I know you can defend yourself pretty well, but do me a favor and stay close to Trey. I know you’ll be tempted to give him a hard time—”

“Who, me?” She blinks innocently. I scowl.

“—But don’t. It’s dangerous enough going into the vampires’ lair, backup or no backup,” he lectures. “You both need to stick together and present a united front.”

“Of course,” Sheridan says, just as I mutter, “This is a mistake.”

“You think I should send someone else?” Garrett asks. His tone is sharp, but I know he’s really asking.

“No.” I kick a rock with my boot with enough precision to send it rocketing into the air. “You’re right.”

There’s no chance in hell I’d let her go with anyone else. I would go apeshit if I couldn’t be beside her to protect her.

Besides, he and Tank are too high up in the pack to go to the club. Putting them in the vampires’ clutches could invite assassination or kidnapping. We just declared peace, but it’s best not to tempt the vampires too closely. An attack on a pack alpha or his second could mean war.

Jared might do it, if I asked, but he just took a mate. I’m single, expendable. And if I lose it and kick the shit outta a leech, the pack can write it off easier. Blame my bad temper, slap me on the wrist. As long as I beat up on a lesser leech, and don’t go after Lucius himself.

“I’ll do it,” I tell my alpha.

Sheridan waits until Garrett looks away to flick a brow at me. Wearing a sexy club get up instead of a stuck up suit really brings out the sass in her.

I gotta get her out of that outfit.

But not back into the suit.

Naked.

Fuck. No. Not that.

I’m staring at Sheridan. Her eyes widen as if she knows what I’m thinking, but she glares back with a shake of her head and makes another face.

Garrett catches her at it and frowns. “Behave.”

“Of course.” She smiles like a naughty angel. “Don’t I always?”

Trey

“How’d you know we’d be here, anyway?” I ask Sheridan as I drop her off by her car in Fight Club’s lot. After a few questions, Garrett and I discovered she didn’t have her car, having walked. We took turns chewing her ear off before Garrett told me to give her a ride.

Which is how I ended up riding my bike back with Sheridan’s arms around my waist and her soft body pressed into my back, fangs descending in my mouth and my dick ready to split the front of my jeans.

Lucky me.

“Sheridan?” I ask again, getting in her face so she can’t dodge my question. “How did you know we were meeting the leeches in the wash?”

The way she hesitates before answering, I know I’m not going to like the answer.

“Nero,” she admits. “It was the leech, Nero.”

My curse echoes around the lot.

“Trey, I can handle it.”

“Yeah? Why would he invite you to something like this?”

She nibbles her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Fuck, he’s into you.”

“You don’t know that,” she says quickly. “He probably just wanted to throw the Phoenix pack into the mix. Stir up trouble.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.” She glares at me like I’m the problem. “Why do leeches do anything?”

I curse some more, and kick gravel, wishing it was Nero’s head. Or Lucius’. Don’t care that touching the vampire king would start a war. If he messes with Sheridan, killing him would be worth it. “I don’t like it.”

Sheridan rolls her eyes. “I’m not crazy about him hanging around me either. Next time he touches me, I’ll throw him into the bar.” She rubs her wrist and my vision narrows, my wolf so close fur crackles along my forearm.

“Did he touch you? Fuck, Sheridan, these guys are dangerous—”

“You think I don’t know that?” She gets back in my face, gesturing towards the building. “You’re the one who lets them in. This place is crawling with them!”

“This area is no man’s land. We’re not on pack territory; otherwise Garrett would have to police us. This way we welcome everybody, but that means leeches and shifters are free to roam. I don’t like it, but it’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“And what do you get out of this?” She shifts closer, studying my face as if she really wants to know. “This place is a dump.”

I step back, shutting down. “I guess that’s where lowlifes like me belong.” I don’t think Sheridan really thinks that of me—at least she didn’t when we were kids. But I’m parroting her dad, who never wanted me hanging around her.

“I didn’t say that. I know you like to fight but…” She stops. “But this place, with the scary bouncer and leeches lurking in the corner, and the drunks. It’s almost like you have a death wish.”

“I’m not talking about it. It’s none of your business. Besides, you can talk, accepting invites from vampires. What if he’d planned to get you alone and corner you?”

“I can take care of myself, Robson.” Her lip curls. “You’re not the only one who can fight.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes, but only barely. Yes, she’s a strong alpha female, but she’s not invincible. There are dangers out there that go far beyond attending college out of state or running numbers for a brewery.

“Want me to prove it?”

I don’t attempt to hide my exasperation. “No, Sheridan. I want you to stay out of fucking danger.”

“You and me, in the ring,” she challenges me.

Oh for fuck’s sake. I hold up my hands. “Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to get defensive.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “This isn’t defensive. This is me gearing up to kick your ass. Name the time and I’ll come down here and get in the ring with you.”

“Okay, okay, you can take care of yourself,” I concede.

“Name the time, Robson.” Her voice gets flinty. “I thought you loved sparring.”

I stare at her for a long moment. I’d like to pretend I’m not imagining the two of us sliding around in a jello-pit, or mud-wrestling naked, but my dick thickens against my zipper. “Okay, fine. Tomorrow. Noon.”

Her expression sears me like acid. “Get ready, Robson. Your ass is grass.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I shoot back, and snarl at my own lame comeback.

“Tomorrow then.”

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

“No, thanks. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” She tosses her hair and shrugs out of my jacket. “Here.” Orange and vanilla wafts up from the leather, mingling with my scent. It smells good. Right. Meant to be.

We stare at each other over the piece of clothing, twelve years yawning between us. There’s plenty of hurt and pain, but beneath the memories of how we hurt each other is more, so much more.

“Keep it,” I tell her hoarsely. I like knowing she has something that belongs to me. Not much, but it’s something.

She clutches the jacket to her chest and gives a curt nod. Something in me cracks a little, as if I’m relieved she didn’t throw my gift back in my face. Fates, I’m still in deep with this woman.

I watch her strut to her car, hips twitching invitingly, and clench my hands into fists. I don’t know what I want to do more: strangle her or fuck her. Probably both. Yeah, that’d be good.

I hold my breath until the taillights of her car disappear. When I finally blow it out, I feel winded, like I’ve run for miles. Like I’ve been punched in the guts.

Sheridan Green. Fuck me. Fucking fuck me.