Claiming The Alpha (2 page)

She could hear the concern in his voice and she shook her head. “No. I’m fine. The tears…I have no

idea what that was. But it felt right, at the moment. There’s a word…I’m not good with big words…for

something that’s like cleaning out all the yuck inside your head.”

“Cathartic.”

“Yeah. Big word. Not a word a high school dropout uses.”

They were silent for a few minutes, Jax idly playing with a strand of her hair.

“Did you drop out after your parents died?”

“Yeah. It was right at the end of my senior year. I tried to keep going, but it was too hard. Well, it wasn’t hard. There was no one to keep an eye on me. We ran wild, Lori and I. She finished school, barely. I’d

crashed at her house all the time and then pretty much lived there after the landlord showed up with an

eviction notice at my apartment. After she graduated, she found the club and got us jobs. I got my own

place and the rest is history.”

Jax was quiet beside her. She took a deep breath and then hesitated. She wanted to go on, continue with

her story, but she wasn’t sure how he was going to react to all of it. But hell, he’d just told her he was a werewolf. Nothing she could tell him would be any worse. At least it was normal stuff, in comparison.

Jax reached over and took her hand, winding his fingers through hers. “Remember what I said before?

You can tell me anything, anytime. No judgment from me. Nothing changes how I feel about you, okay?”

She nodded her head, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I know. It’s just…it’s hard. I never talked about this

stuff, try really hard not to think about it even.” She tilted her head, looking up at him. “But I want to tell you, even though it’s not a pretty picture.

She settled back against his chest, looking down at his big hand holding hers. It was almost a relief

talking to him…not quite easy, but it loosened up something inside of her, let off a tension that’s she’d never really noticed until it was gone.

“I’ve been doing okay on my own. Better than some…better than Lori sometimes. She’s got her head on

straight now, but she got mixed up with a lot of shit after high school. Some heavy drugs, really bad guys…

the whole cliché you’d expect from a stripper. I managed to avoid all that, at least the drugs. The guys…not so much.”

Jax still held her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. She was relieved he didn’t feel the need to say anything, just let her ramble on. She sighed and kept talking.

“If you dance for men, for money, the creeps are pretty much an occupational hazard. A lot of the guys

who come to the club are married, looking for a little something on the side. I never got mixed up with

those guys, didn’t want to be part of screwing up any more families. And it’s never been about the sex, at the club, I mean. Just a way to make a living. But…I managed to find my own bad guys though. Even

thought some of them loved me, found out different…after.”

“So you broke your own rules in my case?” She heard the smile in his voice, even without looking up.

She knew just what it would look like, one side of his mouth turned up, the glint in his eye.

She smiled, sliding down in the bed beside him and he turned to her. She was right, the smile was there.

A little sultrier than she’d imagined, which suited her at the moment. Giving up so much about her life was hard, harder than she’d thought. The rest could wait.

“You broke the rules first, remember? You touched me, got me all distracted. I should have had Mack

toss you out on your ass on the sidewalk.”

Jax was beside her now, propped up on one elbow. His hand rested on her stomach, sliding slowly

north, up over the curve of her breast.

“I’ve never been one to follow the rules.” His voice was low, smooth…and she shivered.

“I get that.” His fingers were caressing her now, slowly working their way over her skin. She looked

down, watching as he brushed her nipple with the back of his hand, gasping as it drew up, hard and

instantly sensitive.

Everything Jax did to her after that blended into one long sensation-fueled experience. His hands and

mouth seemed to be everywhere, lighting a fire inside her, fanning the flames with his kisses, his tongue against hers, his lips sliding along her skin.

It all peaked, waves of arousal crashing through her, Jax moaning against her neck, his body giving as

much as taking from her, in some complicated equation that balanced out perfectly. She held him against

her, their bodies slicked with sweat, breathing hard and fast, until they were both spent.

The sunlit room gradually receded. The only thing she was conscious of was Jax’s weight and warmth

next to her, his breath in her ear, and of sinking into the bed. And then that receded too.

Nikki woke with a start. They’d drifted back to sleep and she had no idea what time it was. Scrambling

upright, she threw back the sheet. The clock on the bedside table said well past noon.

“Shit.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Fuck.”

Jax sat up as she fumbled around on the floor for her clothes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m late for Ryan’s and I need to go home and change.” She was on her hands and knees, searching for

her shoe beneath Jax’s bed. She sat up as he leaned over the edge.

“I’ll call you a cab.” He disappeared from her view as she dived back under the bed.

“Why the hell don’t you have a car?” She got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, fastening

her bra and pulling her shirt over her head.

“Never had a need for one, I guess. I just walk where I need to go.” He had his cell phone open and

spoke briefly. She heard him say the address and then he flipped the phone shut.

“You walk everywhere?” She stood and shimmied her hips, tugging up her skirt.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Jax pulled on a faded pair of sweatpants, coming to stand barefoot in front of her.

“You want something to eat, to take along in the cab? Bagel, coffee?”

She scowled as she pulled up the zipper on her skirt. “Either…both. Coffee first. Is there time for

coffee?”

“There’s always time for coffee.” Jax was already out the door and down the hall and she followed,

hopping on one foot as she put on her other shoe.

Chapter Two

Jax had sent Nikki off in the cab, with a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel. He chided himself for falling asleep, knowing she had a job to go to. But they’d been awake until the early hours and Nikki must have

been exhausted, after her emotional roller coaster the night before. If she was late, maybe Ryan would fire her and she wouldn’t be working in that seedy little shop. Shaking his head at the errant thought, he poured himself a cup of coffee. She needed the job and as much as he wanted her with him, he didn’t think she

was ready to commit to living with him.

Finn and his mate, Angela, were still in the kitchen when he came back in. They’d been eating breakfast

when Nikki came down. They’d been guarded but pleasant to Nikki, who had eyed Angela with open

curiosity. Their conversation had been brief, with no mention of killings or murders and nothing at all from Finn or Angela that would have hinted that any of them were werewolves. They may have suspected Nikki

knew what Jax as, but until he’d told them differently, she was just another human who didn’t need to

know what they were.

Now, Finn’s ever-present bowl of cereal was finished, both of them sitting with a cup of coffee. Jax

poured his own cup and sat down at the table.

“Jax, a few of Bec’s pack who came back last night. They’re in their old rooms. They wanted me to let

you know, feel out the reception, I guess.”

“Like I said, they’re welcome back, no questions. They can come find me if they want, or I’ll find

them.”

Finn nodded. “There’s no new murders since the last. Bec…” Finn hesitated.

“Go on.” Jax took a swallow of coffee.

“Bec’s going to take the rest of his pack out on a scouting trip tonight, back to the scenes of the other murders, see if they can find any clues.” He pushed the cereal bowl away.

Jax shook his head. “What the hell is he thinking? Or not thinking. That thing isn’t something to mess

with, and in mortal form, it’s suicide.” He pushed away from the table, setting his cup in the sink.

“Any idea where Bec is now?”

Finn shook his head. “No. He’s not back at his place and no one’s seen him here either.”

“Great. A renegade wolf-thing and a renegade brother. Couldn’t ask for a better start to my day.”

Jax took the stairs two at a time. Bec was out of control and finding him…
and stopping him
…was what he needed to do. The last thing he’d ever imagined doing as alpha male of this pack was tracking down his own brother and bringing him to heel.

If the wolf-thing were a lycanthrope, the only way to kill it would be to sever the head from the spine.

The traditional methods of killing werewolves, shooting them with a silver bullet or impaling them on a

silver knife, had no effect on lycanthropes.

Even though they resembled werewolves, lycanthropes were different. Besides being more powerful

and larger, they had the ability to change at will. They weren’t bound to the cycle of the moon and it freed them, sometimes making them more dangerous, if they’d gone feral and out of control. And that usually

happened when they’d eaten human flesh and grew to like it.

Jax dragged his thoughts back to the present, to the thing that was killing people in his city, the thing that had attacked Nikki. And to his brother. Things were getting too far out of control and Jax needed to get control of his brother, and his pack, before it all spiraled away from him. He’d been too passive as a leader, too passive in dealing with Bec. Maybe he’d been too passive in letting his deserter pack members back

without a fight. It was time to get tougher, stop trying to please everyone. And he’d start with finding Bec and finding a way to kill the lycanthrope.

He detoured away from his room, climbing the stairs past the third floor and up the narrow back stairs

to the attic space. There were all kinds of junk packed in the attic. Whether the thing was a lycanthrope or something else, there might be something useful somewhere in the cluttered confines of the fourth floor.

The smell hit him almost immediately after he opened the door, the now-familiar fetid, sickish smell

from the alley. It was strongest in the back corner, near the boxes that held his father’s belongings. Some of the boxes were torn open, their contents strewn across the floor. He didn’t recognize any of the items tossed about and quickly stepped over them as if they were toxic.

The attic was stuffy, dust motes swirling around him as he moved through the crowded space. He

wrinkled his nose, disgusted at the stench. He finally found the box he was looking for, shoved against the back wall and he pulled it beneath the oriel window and took off the cover. Beneath a sheaf of papers he

found the book, dark and heavy, the cover heavily embossed leather.

His father had kept a sort of diary, a journal, of important events and this was it. The book smelled like his father and he closed his eyes, breathing in memories before forcing himself to open the book.

There were births and deaths, mates’ and members’ names added. Sometimes there were entries about

significant events. Jax remembered sitting on the floor as his father made entries in the leather-bound book, but he’d never really paid much attention. At the time, it had seemed cumbersome and old-fashioned, a

waste of time. But maybe whatever his father had left behind might now prove to be very useful.

The sight of his father’s angular handwriting brought a rush of memories, of sitting beside his father,

watching him write by lamplight in the study downstairs. Trying to understand what it meant to be an alpha male, listening to other pack members come and go, telling him their problems and listening to his father dispense advice, logic and, most of all, enforcing rules and discipline.

That’s what was missing. Jax shook his head. He had no idea how to discipline anyone, including his

own brother. He could give advice, solve problems, but he had yet to learn how to deal with conflict. And now Bec was running wild, out of control, and it was Jax’s fault.

The book was dusty, the pages brittle. He flipped through, scanning the dated entries. Most were straight records of pack members, but there were also several longer entries dealing with specific events. As he

glanced down the page, one entry, in particular, stood out.

His father’s careful writing deteriorated to scrawls across the page. Jax read quickly, slowing down as he came to one passage, squinting in the dim light at the sloppy handwriting.

When he finally set the book aside, he had his answer. The wolf-thing wasn’t a lycanthrope, it was

something else. Bec had been right about that. But by being different, it was potentially more dangerous.

Because the wolf-thing was family.

*

She’d thought about asking the cab to wait at Lori’s apartment, but Nikki didn’t think she had enough

cash to be that extravagant. Besides, she needed a shower and change of clothes, and Lori would be there

and would probably want a blow by blow of her night with Jax. So she reluctantly let the cab leave.

Sure enough, Lori was waiting and by the set of her shoulders and thin line of her mouth, something

was wrong. Nikki got the distinct impression Jax was not going to be the topic of conversation.

“Where have you been?” Lori was sitting at the tiny cluttered kitchen table, a forgotten cigarette teetering on the edge of the ashtray.

“I left you a note…I was with Jax.” Nikki headed down the hall to the bathroom, kicking off her shoes

and pulling off her shirt, tugging at the zipper on her skirt as she walked. It occurred to her she could have just left Jax’s house wrapped in a sheet and save the wear and tear on her clothes.