Savage Revenge (2 page)

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Authors: Shelli Stevens

BOOK: Savage Revenge
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He needed to find a place to hunker down for more than an hour or two. He needed several days. He needed to gain someone’s trust. Someone he could easily manipulate.

That person needed to live alone. Easiest target would probably be an elderly human or a woman.

Stopping outside a small, run-down-looking establishment, Nathan glanced at the door that was cracked open and contemplated his options.

He was just outside of Coarsegold. Some other small town up in the hills, getting closer to Yosemite. Not a lot of other businesses, but then there was this little bar.

From the half-open door he could hear the soft notes of a guitar and the melody of a man’s voice as he sang.

There wasn’t much else nearby to choose from, just a gas station with a minimart. Which meant cameras.

The likelihood of a camera at this joint was slim. Reminding himself of that, he pulled open the door completely and stepped inside.

Maybe he’d been expecting people to turn and stare, but nobody seemed to notice his presence as he made his way into the bar.

He had to decide. Now.

His gaze scanned the room, searching for anyone who could possibly be a target.

It only took a moment before he found her. Sitting alone and watching the singer on stage, she sipped on what looked like lemonade. She looked friendly, trusting, and not a day under seventy.

He grabbed a seat at the table next to her and forced himself to smile when she glanced his way.

Smiling wasn’t exactly in his nature. He didn’t have time to charm people—never had the need for it—he was the Goddamn alpha. He did what he wanted.

But he was going to need charm tonight. Buckets of it.

The elderly woman gave him a quick, uncertain smile in return, and then scooted her chair another couple inches in the opposite direction.

Shit. You’re blowing this, Larson
.

His mind raced. He’d offer to buy her a drink, but she already had one.

“Good singer.” He grunted, nodding toward the guy on stage.

The woman’s eyes widened, as if she couldn’t quite believe he was talking to her.

She didn’t even reply, just gave a nod of agreement.

He took a slow breath in and reached for the edge of his chair to slide it toward her. He stopped, though, as an elderly man approached and took the seat next to her.

Apparently the woman wasn’t as alone as he’d figured.

Son of a bitch.

His jaw hardened and he jerked his gaze away to the other side of the room. His attention snagged immediately on
her
.

Maybe because she’d already been watching him with a look of dismay.

Was she alone? It certainly seemed like it. The curvy twenty-something was somewhat plain, and she gave off a straitlaced vibe.

Maybe a cross between a librarian and hippie type. She wore a long, multi-colored skirt and a thin, black tank top that hugged an impressive chest.

But it was her hair that fascinated him. Long and red, it fell in loose curls down her back.

As if she’d just realized he’d caught her staring, she jerked her attention back to the stage and the singer on it.

Her head tilted in a way that sent a cascade of curls to block her face from him.

His lips quirked, and he had the feeling she’d done it on purpose.

This time gut instinct told him she was alone.

He glanced around the bar again, seeing if there might be a better target, but beyond the handful of couples and occasional group of girls, there was no one.

It would have to be her. Curls girl.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Damn, he’d been so focused that he hadn’t realized a waitress had approached from behind.

“I’ll have a PBR.” He paused, hoping like hell he had enough money. “And whatever Curls over there is drinking, I’ll buy her another.”

Though the waitress was going to be pissed when she realized he didn’t have enough for a tip.

“Curls?” The waitress glanced across the room. “Oh, Sage. She’s just having seltzer water. But you got it.”

Seltzer water? So much for hoping he could get her buzzed. She seemed small enough that it wouldn’t take much. At least the waitress would get a tip now.

He waited until he had the can of beer in hand and the waitress had delivered the seltzer water to Curls. Or Sage. Unique name.

Sage glanced up sharply, glass in hand, her brows drawn together as she looked at him.

When she started to shake her head at the waitress, he stood and made his way over to her.

He’d only taken a few steps when a wall of realization slammed into him. He froze, drawing in another deep breath of her scent and the sweet shifter blood coursing through her veins.

Fuck
. How had he not realized she was a shifter? How had it taken being nearly on top of her to sense she was one of his kind?

Her scowl vanished and her mouth rounded into an O of shock—her eyes widening. She’d figured out exactly what he was as well.

This had just gone from shit to shittastic. She’d had a clear look at his face now, and if his image was being splashed around the shifter communities as he suspected it was, she would remember him.

Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. There was no going back now. When she walked out of here tonight, he was going with her.

Amping up his resolve, he forced another smile and continued his approach.

“This seat taken?” He gestured at the empty chair beside her.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t look away from him. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He paused a moment.
Keep it charming, Larson
. “By me?”

“No, and excuse me if I don’t say nice try.”

“Well, technically, you just did.”

Again she just stared at him, those big blue eyes full of wariness.

Knowing he wasn’t actually going to get an invitation, he grabbed the chair and sat down in it anyway.

Her mouth tightened. “Can I help you with something?”

“Aren’t you going to thank me for the drink?”

“No. In fact, let me give you back the two dollars you’ll have to pay.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you realize you were going to strike out with Esther and decide maybe someone closer to your age was a better bet anyway?”

“I wasn’t hitting on her.”

“Kind of looked like you were from where I sat. And you know what? That’s just weird.”

The unfamiliar sensation of heat stealing up his neck had his jaw clenching. What the hell? She’d looked so quiet. So docile.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not? Do you have a jealous husband at home?” Or
mate
. He didn’t sense she was mated, though. Hmm, maybe the fact that she was a shifter as well could work out to his advantage.

“No.”

Bingo. He’d be willing to bet she lived alone too.

“What are you doing here?” Her hand clenched around the glass in her hand, and her gaze dipped to the table.

“I came to hear some music.”

“Not the bar.
Here
. Central California.” Her voice dropped half an octave so only he would hear it, and she glanced at him again. “If I’m not mistaken, you have Pacific Northwest pack written all over you.”

She was good. Smart. And direct as hell. This wasn’t boding well for him.

“Just passing through town. Sensed we had something in common and thought I’d have a drink with you.” All while spewing that bullshit, he kept his expression friendly. Or tried.

“Hmmph. And you know what? You smile weird. Almost as if you’ve never done it before or something. Like it hurts.”

Well it kind of did hurt keeping a smile up for this long. A surly frown tugged at his mouth, but he held it back.

“This next song goes out to Sage.”

Her gasp was nearly inaudible, as her head spun exorcist fast toward the stage.

“You look lovely tonight, my little sunflower.”

Nathan frowned. Sunflower? What the
fuck
?

“I can’t believe it.” Sage’s whisper drew Nathan’s attention away from the pretty boy musician on stage and back to the female shifter across from him.

“Believe what?”

“He’s never done that before. He’s never acknowledged me like this.”

Secret lovers or something? Irritation slid through him. That wouldn’t do.

“It’s you,” she continued, casting him a quick glance. “It’s you being here, talking to me. I think he got jealous. Oh, thank you so much. I don’t even know your name.”

“Stan.” The lie slid past his lips without a thought.

“Well, thank you, Stan. For the drink and for everything.” Her attention was once more on the stage. Her eyes glittered with adoration as she stared at the musician.

She had a crush on the guy, and big time. Which wasn’t good no matter how you looked at it. She was a shifter. Why was she looking outside her own kind? If he were her alpha he’d have pulled her aside a while ago and woken her ass up to reality.

But she wasn’t in his pack. Hell, she looked as if she preferred hanging solo and avoiding the pack. There was no one else around who had shifter blood that he could sense.

“He’s amazing…” Her whimsical sigh had Nathan glancing at the stage again.

The musician was nothing to write home about. Nice enough voice, maybe, but a little too pretty. Hair that could use a cut, a little on the skinny side, and just overall kind of tepid looking.

The words to the song registered. Something about a woman’s beauty being comparable to a sunrise over snow-capped mountains.

Barf
.

And this Sage girl was eating it up. Every last note that came out of his mouth.

He leaned back in his chair and her gaze darted to him, flashing with panic.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

Deciding to milk it a bit, he gave a small shrug. “Well, I was thinking about it, but if you’d rather I stay—”

“Please do. I don’t mind anymore…” She gave him a small grin. “You’re turning out to be good luck.”

She didn’t have a clue. Not a single fucking clue. Give it a few hours and she’d be eating those words.

Chapter Two

Was it weird there was some strange, larger-than-life shifter hanging out at her table? Meh, maybe a little bit, but Sage would’ve asked the headless horseman to join her if it got Leaf’s attention.

Leaf hadn’t been able to stop looking her way. For the first time ever, he seemed more than a little interested.

Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d dedicated that song to her.

“So what’s this dude’s name?”

“What?” She cast Stan a glance, somewhat annoyed to be pulled from her thoughts. “Leaf.”

“Leaf? Like a leaf from a tree?” He scowled, which seemed to fit him much more than a smile.

“That’s awfully judgmental. Do you think of me as an herb?”

“What? No. Sage suits you. You look like a Sage.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Whatever that meant. Really, it would be nice if he’d just be quiet and keep making Leaf jealous. He’d be finishing up with his set in a few minutes, and then would likely come over.

Not that Stan wasn’t interesting. In fact, when he’d walked into the bar it was hard not to stare. He was attractive in that way some women loved. Dark features, tall, with big wide shoulders, and he radiated danger—even if he tried to hide it behind that constipated-looking smile.

She hadn’t even realized he was shifter until he’d been striding across the floor to her. But now there was no doubt that not only did he hold the same wolf gene she did, but was probably some kind of leader within his pack. If not their alpha. Clearly this was a man who was used to giving orders, not taking them.

That should’ve made her a little uneasy, but more so it just made her irritated. Being an alpha wasn’t enough to intimidate her. She was all too familiar with them.

Her opinion on alphas? They were just arrogant, bossy men with overblown egos. Sure, they were great leaders, but did that really cancel out the attitude that tended to go along with it?

Which is why you suck at being part of the pack, Sage
.

She took another sip of seltzer and kept her attention on Leaf and his music. Which, surprisingly, wasn’t as easy to do with Stan beside her.

The realization irritated her a bit, but then she reminded herself that Stan had been monumental in getting Leaf to notice her.

From the corner of her eye, she snuck another glance at Stan. Something was off with him. Sure, on the surface most people would see him at face value. Casual. Relaxed. Not too exciting.

But she wasn’t most people. She wasn’t human, and her shifter blood allowed her to pick up on the telltale signs that he wasn’t as comfortable as he seemed.

There was too much tension in his body. And his eyes…they never stopped looking around the room. His breathing seemed almost measured, forced, as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

And underneath it all, she sensed exhaustion.

So why was he here? She’d asked earlier and he’d given some bogus answer she didn’t buy for a minute.

The smattering of applause brought her attention back to the man on stage.

“Thank you, everyone.” Leaf set down his guitar and stood up. “I’m going to take a half-hour break, and then I’ll be back to play another set.”

All thoughts of Stan vanished again as Leaf made his way toward her table.

Her pulse quickened as disbelief soared through her. This was happening. This was really happening.

“Hello again, my little sunflower.” Leaf pulled a chair from a nearby table and turned it around, sitting backward on it. “Mind if I join you?”

“N-no of course not.” Oh God, she was stuttering. Were her cheeks pink? They felt warm.

Leaf gave a slow, knowing smile, and slid a gaze over her. His focus lingered on her chest area, and now she knew she was blushing.

The tank top was thin and showed off her full breasts more than she was used to. It had seemed like a good idea earlier tonight—when she’d wanted to look attractive for him. Now she had his attention, and it was almost leering, sending a wave of discomfort through her.

Shrug it off, Sage, you’ve been dreaming about this kind of attention from him for years now! Don’t get your panties in a bunch.

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