SHADOWS OF A WOLF MOON Book 5: RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES (14 page)

“Apparently.” The real question was, how dangerous was Ella?

“Be careful with this spell. You probably should ask yourself whether this is really worth even attempting it.” She licked her lips nervously.

“It is.” He had no choice. He had to find out who was behind the torture of the Guardians.

She nodded once. The expression, one of knowing -something -bad -is- about -to -happen -and -wanting -nothing -to- do -with -it, spread across her face. “You need to go out the back way. I can’t have anyone seeing you leave my place.”

“Thank you.” He followed her through another room to the exit, which led out into the alley.

She opened the door and poked her head out, looking both ways. Stepping back, she nodded for him to take his leave.

“Here, you didn’t take my money.” He shoved a wad of money at her.

She waved it away. “No. I’m not accepting money.”

“But I can’t…”

“I don’t want anything traced back to me when you open that can of worms you are determined to open.” She shot him a glare. “Just so you know, the spell can’t be done tonight. It has to be done tomorrow.”

“Why is that?”

“Because tomorrow is a full moon. You need the energy for the spell.” She slammed the door behind him. The click of the lock settled into place.

He frowned and glanced down at the bag. Living in New Orleans, the shop owner probably knew a few witches and actual spells. But he hadn’t missed the fear etched into her expression as she’d hurried to retrieve all the items he needed.

Whatever had her scared was bigger than he’d imagined. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same person responsible for the missing Guardians.

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s like a sauna out here.” Catty stepped out of her apartment and into the steamy night. She sucked in a hot breath and hiked her bag higher on her shoulder as she made her way down the sidewalk. Darkness descended upon the city like a blanket, covering the sins and secrets of those it met in the shadows.

She plucked her sweaty shirt away from her sweaty body. Even in the dark, the humidity was still wicked.

After Big Mike’s visit, she made an effort to stay away from Lucien. He’d come by her place, and when he’d knocked, she’d hidden in the bathroom. She didn’t care what happened to her, but she wasn’t going to let Lucien get hurt because of her.

She stayed in her apartment for the remainder of the day, not even going to visit Mrs. Willis.

Her chest tightened. She knew Mrs. Willis would be wondering where she was.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s your hurry?” a couple of guys hanging out at the corner called out to her. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag and she hurried her pace. She’d been whistled at, yelled at, and even propositioned many times before. But tonight a sliver of fear skittered along her spine, like spider legs dancing on her back.

Something was different. Something was off.

She glanced around. There were plenty of people milling around the sidewalk, but they were all human. If she got into trouble she would need to shift to defend herself, but with the Pack Law, shifting in public was punishable by death.

Sometimes she hated humans. Not because she thought she was better but because they were so fucking entitled. If they knew how many times their lives had been saved from a rogue werewolf by Guardians, they would be shocked.

Not all humans were bad. Mrs. Willis was human and had a heart of gold.

Now her granddaughter, Shelly, was a different story. She didn’t trust that chick as far as she could throw her skinny ass.

“Baby. What’s your hurry?” The two men stepped up to flank her on both sides. One had a long untrimmed beard and dark eyes, while the other guy was clean shaven with snaggle-toothed smile.

They both reeked of whiskey and cigarettes. She cringed at the stench but kept walking. If she ignored them, maybe they would leave her alone.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Do you think you’re too good to talk to us?” The guy with the unkempt beard stepped closer. His arm brushed against her and she recoiled.

“I have to get to work,” she murmured and kept her gaze straight ahead. Her heart clattered in her chest, and her lungs began to tighten and ache.

She was only a block from the club. Once inside she’d be safe. Only a few more feet.

“Yeah, we know where you work, angel.” The other male with the bad teeth ran his finger down her arm. “And we know what you look like under all those clothes.”

Her stomach lurched. They knew she was a stripper.

“Say, how much money for a blow job?” the other guy sneered.

“I’m a dancer, not a hooker.” She kept her voice businesslike and her gaze straight ahead despite the fear stomping up her spine.

“That’s not what I heard. Hell, half those girls at the Triple X put out for the right amount.” The dirty blond male leaned in close and sniffed.

She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. A tiny spark of anger ignited deep within her chest.

Panic that had crept up her spine was swiftly being drowned out by another emotion. Anger.

She was really getting tired of this shit. She was nothing but a pair of tits and a nice ass. They thought they could say whatever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, and she would be grateful for each time they grabbed her ass or told her she was hot.

She was done with this shit.

Stopping in her tracks, she stuck her finger in the bearded guy’s chest. Her heart pounded as anger pulsed and surged through her body. “Let me tell you something. If you so much as try to touch me or put your hands on me again, I’m going to rip off your dick and stick it down your throat.” Her voice grew louder with each word forced out of her mouth.

People stopped along the sidewalk to watch the interaction. The guy looked around and his face turned bright red. “Easy, girl.”

“Stop touching me!” she screamed. The heat in her body raged as she fought back the impulse to shift and tear into these guys.

“This chick is crazy. She must be on something.” The blond guy laughed and looked around at the crowd.

“Did you touch her?” A ball-headed biker with a substantial beer gut stepped up to the guy. He took off his shades and tucked them into the pocket of his leather vest.

“Look, we were having a little fun, ya know.” The guy held up his hands and tried to laugh it off.

“Don’t sound like fun to me.” The biker whistled, and suddenly five other bikers stepped up behind him.

“Is there a problem?” A tall lanky guy with the same leather cut looked from his biker friend over to Catty.

“Yeah. These guys are harassing this young lady here.”

She frowned. It had been a long time since anyone called her a young lady. Even longer since someone had stood up for her.

“Is that right?” The tall guy stepped up to the two guys harassing her and glared.

“Where do you need to go, ma’am?” The big biker asked.

“The Triple X.” She dropped her shoulders a little. He’d probably leave after finding out what she did for a living.

He nodded and motioned for one of his friends, who stepped up beside him. “We’ll walk you there.”

She blinked, surprised by his offer. “Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“No, ma’am. My mama taught me not to let a woman walk alone if she feels unsafe. And after this, I reckon you don’t feel safe right now. We’ll escort you.”

“Thank you.” Her throat ached with emotion. While they looked like badass bikers, they certainly had their hearts in the right place.

They walked in silence down the sidewalk.

When they arrived at the front door of the Triple X, Catty turned and gave the burly man a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate what you did for me.”

“Not a problem.” He shrugged.

“There should be more gentlemen like you in this world. It would make for a better place.”

The big guy ducked his head and his cheeks flamed red with embarrassment.

He wasn’t used to getting a compliment, and she wasn’t used to handing them out. She gave him another smile before walking inside.

She crinkled her nose at the smoke-filled room. Despite the depressing aura of the place, her heart felt a little lighter today at the kindness she’d been shown.

She hadn’t expected respect from a total stranger when she needed it the most.

“What’s gotten you smiling like a possum?” Celine groused, and she blew out a puff of smoke that enveloped Catty’s head.

“Nothing.” She shrugged and continued on her way toward the dressing room.

Celine walked beside her. “I guess you heard about Jill.”

Catty stopped and turned. Unease settled in her gut. Surely she hadn’t come back to the club. She had a plan and dreams and determination. “What do are you talking about?”

“They found her body near the shipyard.” Celine sniffed and stubbed out the butt of her cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

Catty’s feet froze to the floor. She wrapped her trembling hands around her stomach in a futile attempt to stop the nausea snaking up her throat. “Oh my god. What happened to her? She was supposed to go back to school.” Fear trembled in her throat with each word she spat up.

“It’s a damn shame. That girl brought in a lot of customers.” Celine looked point-blank at Catty. “If she’d stayed where she was supposed to, she’d probably still be alive.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Celine was a tough manager, but surely she didn’t agree with keeping someone from living their lives.

“Her place was here, at the Triple X.” She waved her fresh cigarette in the air. “You girls know what you are getting into here. And it’s not like you aren’t being well compensated. Hell, we even have dental. Do you know how many companies don’t have dental?” Celine shook her head.

Catty’s veins pumped cold blood through her body as she looked around the club. Suddenly the Triple X seemed to take on a whole new persona. A whole new bad vibe.

“All the other girls know about Jill. Best they use this as a learning experience.”

“And what’s the lesson in this?” Catty snapped.

Celine narrowed her eyes and pressed her thin lips into an invisible line. “She should have known her place in this world. Should’ve been grateful for her job and kept her ass where she belonged.” She took a long drag and blew it out in Catty’s face.

She cringed and held her breath. Anger bubbled in her veins and she wanted nothing more than to shift into wolf and escape this hell.

Hiking her bag higher on her shoulder, she headed for her seat at the makeup mirror.

And according to Celine, exactly where she belonged.

Chapter Twenty

Lucien weaved in and out of the crowd like a ghost dressed in black. The humid air clung to him. With the weight of his leather jacket, he was going to be soaked in a matter of minutes.

He rolled his shoulders and headed in the direction of the Bourbon Street. It was dark and hot, and he knew the city would only grow louder as the night drew on.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. He passed couples holding hands, families headed into restaurants to eat dinner, and single girls looking to celebrate and have a good time. People knew enough to keep their distance and step out of his way as he approached, but curious enough to stare.

He passed a group of bikers leaned up against their parked motorcycles. A couple of men looked up and gave him a nod by way of greeting. He returned the hello.

He had no destination in mind, but his feet did. When he ended up in front of the Triple X, he stopped.

He inhaled deep.

Catty was inside. He could smell her scent even though it was hours old.

He curled his fingers into fists and warred with himself about entering. He didn’t like the idea of what she did. He understood why she did it, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. The thought of other men looking at her and trying to touch her was enough to make him shift into a wolf on the spot.

None of it mattered. She wasn’t his. She didn’t belong to him. She never would.

He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slow. He looked to the right at the bar next door. It would be better if he had a drink or two to take of the edge. Then he could think clearly. Then he could decide if he wanted to go inside or not.

***

Catty sat down at her dressing table and grabbed her bottle of water. Sweat glistened on her upper lip, and her eye liner was smeared from the heat in the club. She glanced down at the black leather corset and black G-string in her hand. She tugged her thin robe tight around her body. It was still see through it, but at least it was a barrier to her skin.

She snatched a tissue off the table and began the task of wiping her eyeliner off her sweaty skin.

“I can’t believe that about Jill.”

Her hand froze and she strained to listen to the other dancers mentioning Jill’s name.

“I mean the way she died. It was so brutal,” Muffy stated.

“No, it was personal,” Meadow whispered and looked around.

“Meadow.” Catty grabbed the girl by her arm and stood up. Muffy shot her a glare before walking away.

“What?” Meadow narrowed her eyes and snatched her arm out of Catty’s hold.

“How did Jill die?”

Meadow looked around and leaned toward her. “They found her with her throat cut.”

Nausea swamped up in her throat, and she grabbed her chair to keep her upright. Her hand went to her throat and brushed against the silver necklace. The necklace Jill gave her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Meadow arched her drawn-on eyebrow and gave her a curious look. “If you’re getting sick, you should probably leave. You don’t want the rest of us catching what you’ve got. Big Mike is low on dancers.”

“Did they find out who did this?” Catty murmured. Her head swam with horrid images of Jill covered in blood as she lay gasping to breathe. As she’d drawn her last breath.

“Officially, no.” Meadow lowered her voice.

“What does that mean?” Catty frowned.

“It means if you’re smart, you’ll drop all the questions.” Meadow looked around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. “Talking about this, especially here, is pretty stupid. You’re asking for trouble. And I, for one, make it a point not to go looking for trouble.” She gave her a pointed look before striding away on her black stilettos.

Catty slumped down in her chair. Meadow was insinuating that someone in the club had something to do with Jill’s death.

But it didn’t make sense. Jill had been gone from the club for almost a week. If they wanted retribution for her leaving the club, then they would have killed her the day she left. Not days later.

“Catty, you’re on in ten minutes,” Celine squawked out over the buzzing of the room.

She nodded and stood. Her legs wobbled, and she grabbed her chair to steady herself. She sucked in a deep breath.

She was leaving. On her own. Or in a pine box. Either way, she was leaving.

***

Lucien finished off his fifth beer. With his werewolf metabolism, he didn’t even have a buzz.

He glanced at the time. Almost midnight. It would be packed at the Triple X. Which meant more eyes on his Catty.

His Catty? He rubbed his hand through his hair and shook his head. He was living in a dream. They were never going to work. She deserved to be with a male who wasn’t damaged. She deserved better than him. Not to mention how she would feel about him when she found out he’d lied about not being a Guardian. She’d never forgive him.

But it sure as hell felt right when he’d been inside her body. She felt like his.

He rolled his shoulder, where he’d been stabbed. The wound had long healed, and not even a scar remained.

He shoved away from the bar and stood. He tossed a couple of twenties on the counter for the bartender and made his way through the crowd to the front door. It was busier now than when he’d first arrived, and the noise of all the humans were grating on his nerves. There would be even more people at the Triple X.

He stifled a growl thinking about all the male eyes that would be on Catty. Possessiveness swamped his body until he was humming with anger. The urge to shift had never felt so strong in his life.

He forced his way through the crowd and out into the street. It was thick with people and he’d never felt so claustrophobic in his life. All he wanted was some fresh air.

He opened the front door of the Triple X and stepped inside. He cringed as the scent of cigarette and cigar smoke curled around him. The cool air was escaping out the front door, making the odor of sweat and body odor overwhelming.

“Hey sweetheart, you looking for a lap dance?” A tall brunette ran her hand across his bicep and up to his neck.

He grabbed her hand and scowled. “I’m not interested.”

Irritation flashed across her eyes before she recovered and pasted on a sultry smile. “Well, there are other things I can do for you. For the right price, of course.”

He took a step back. Was this something all the girls did? Was this part of the service? Had Catty done this?

He shook his head and walked away. The brunette called him a dick under her breath.

The music changed from an upbeat fast pop song to a slow seductive song. He scanned the crowd, looking at every blonde in skimpy clothes and trying to find the one stripper he needed to see. Some of the girls barely looked legal, while others looked like zombies with no life left in them at all.

Spying an empty seat next to the stage, he eased onto the bar stool and ordered a beer from a waitress. He glanced at the redhead dancing on the stage, but she didn’t hold his attention for long.

His gaze scanned the crowd, but he didn’t see Catty. Maybe she’d already left for the night.

The waitress appeared with his beer and he handed her some cash before turning his attention back to the stage.

His nostrils flared. Electricity seemed to skid across his skin.

Catty.

He could smell her, but he couldn’t see her. He turned away from the stage, looking into the crowd for her familiar face.

“Want to stick something in?”

His body heated at the smooth sound of her voice behind him. He slowly turned back to the stage.

His mouth dropped.

Catty was on stage in front of him on her knees. Dressed in a red lacy bra and panties, she hooked her thumb in the side of her underwear and tugged. His body tightened and heated. Her scent washed over him and all he could think about was taking her right here, right now, on the stage.

She smiled as she watched him fumble with his cash. He gave up and stuck the whole damn wad in her thong.

“It’s okay, Lucien. I’ll give your money back after I get off work.” She smirked and stood.

He might have been embarrassed, but he was too busy trying to keep his erection under control.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she grabbed the pole and swung around. Wrapping her legs around the steel, she climbed up. Her toned legs corded under the movement, and when she was high enough she held on with her arms while stretching her legs out perpendicular to the floor.

The men applauded and whistled.

All he could think about was how her legs could feel around his back as he pounded himself inside her body, their bodies slick with sweat.

She let her gaze wander over to him as she maneuvered her body around the pole. She circled the pole in a graceful movement and slid down.

Keeping her eyes on him, she wandered over to an older man and offered her hip to him. He slipped a five-dollar bill inside and whispered something to her. She smiled but said nothing. Some younger guys called out to her, but she stayed away. As he watched her work, he noticed she didn’t target the guys with a lot of money and attention. She usually danced for the quieter guys or older men.

Did she find them, in a way, safer than the younger men?

She knelt before him, careful not to touch him. He could see the desire in her eyes. He wanted to reach out and brush the hair out of her eyes. But he knew the rules and didn’t want to get her in trouble at work. He certainly didn’t want to get kicked out.

“What time do you get off?” he whispered.

“When we close.”

“I’ll wait for you and walk you home.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Don’t do that.” Her music ended and the next girl was walking up on stage. She hurried and stepped out onto the floor.

He stood and made his way over to her. “Why not?”

She looked around, her face pale. “I’ll get in trouble if I leave with a customer.”

Somehow, after what he’d seen tonight, he truly doubted that. “Okay. I’ll wait outside for you, then.”

“No.” She lowered her voice as an older woman with a clipboard and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth walked by.

“Catty, it’s too dangerous to walk home by yourself at two in the morning.”

“I’ve been doing it ever since I moved here.” She arched her eyebrow.

“And I’m here now, so you don’t have to anymore.”

“And how long is that, Lucien? You’re here on business. You don’t plan on staying.” She looked away.

“You’re not either.”

She glanced up at him and sadness flickered through her eyes.

“What is it?” He could smell the fear coming off her in waves, mixed with desperation.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and glanced around the room, fear dancing in her eyes against the lights in the room.

“Are you in danger, Catty?” He touched her elbow. “Tell me. I can help you.”

“Hey, no touching unless you are planning on paying for a lap dance.” The older woman with a clipboard stepped up to them and pulled his hand away. He fought back a growl.

“I’m willing to pay,” Lucien answered.

“Really?” The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, I’m afraid Catty doesn’t usually do lap dances. So you might have to be generous, if you know what I mean, to even tempt her.” The woman sneered.

“I’m willing to pay whatever.”

“Catty?” The woman narrowed her eyes and waited for an answer.

“I’ll do it.” Catty held his gaze.

“Just so we’re clear…” The woman stepped closer. The scent of cigarette smoke and bad breath made him hold his breath. “The Triple X allows lap dances in the special rooms. She can touch you all she wants, but you can’t touch her. That’s extra.”

“Understood.”

“Follow me,” The woman led the way to the far side of the wall of the club. There were no stages or seating areas here. Only a line of rooms along the wall.

He glanced in the occupied rooms. The doors were clear glass and even though they were closed, he could still see a lot of what was going on inside.

A brunette dressed only in a G-string straddled her customer and was rubbing her tits in his face. In another room, a redhead was bent over at the waist and was shaking her butt in a bald guy’s face while he grabbed her ass cheeks.

The older woman stepped into a room with a loveseat and a side table.

“I’ll need the money. It’s a hundred dollars for fifteen minutes.” The woman held out her hand.

“But—” Catty protested, but the older woman sent her a glare and she didn’t say any more.

“Fine.” He dug in his wallet and pulled out two hundred dollars. “I want privacy. If you know what I mean.”

“You got it.” The woman smiled and stuck the cash in the pocket of her slacks before leaving them alone. He knew right then the owner of the club would never see a dime. The older woman was stealing from the club.

Catty rounded on him and crossed he arm. “You overpaid. A lap dance is only fifty dollars for fifteen minutes.”