“I’ll be back,” I mutter to Jerry, dropping my tray, then making my way to the back door. I’m not letting those assholes get away with this. I’m going to show those bullies—and potential rapists—some teeth.
Two
Keir
Idon’trealizemymistake until about two seconds after the door closes behind me. Inside, with all the smoke, sweat, and alcohol, it’s difficult to pick up any other scents unless you’re really paying attention, something I definitely wasn’t doing. Apparently I should’ve been because now I’m trapped in the narrow alley behind the club with three other shifters—well, four if you count Blondie, who’s perked up a little and is trying to pull away from the other three.
This is just not my night.
Douche One takes hold of Blondie’s arm, then jerks his chin in my direction. “Get rid of him, Greg. No witnesses.”
Douche Two—Greg, I assume—starts in my direction, while his friends drag Blondie toward a green SUV waiting at the end of the alleyway. Greg grabs my arm, digging his fingers in and pulling me toward the dumpster in the opposite direction. He’s muttering under his breath about stupid humans and I almost laugh in relief.
Looks like these guys weren’t paying much attention either. They have no idea I’m a shifter and that’s going to make getting out of this situation much easier, but… I cast a guilty glance toward Blondie. How am I going to get him out of here too?
I turn my attention back to Greg. Solving my own predicament needs to take priority. I—
Douche One yelps. “That little fucker bit me!”
Spinning around, I watch as Blondie slams an elbow into his captor’s stomach, then shakes free and comes barreling in my direction, not exactly gracefully, but fast. Whatever they drugged him with seems to be wearing off.
Greg, all but forgetting about me, moves to intercept Blondie’s escape and I use his momentary distraction to spring my surprise. I shift one of my hands into something with claws and I jam the sharp points into Greg’s stomach and twist. The injury won’t kill him, but it’ll take a while to heal and will put Greg out of the fight.
Blondie’s about as surprised as Greg, his eyes widening at the blood. I grab his arm as he reaches me, tugging him along beside me as I take off for the unguarded end of the alley, the other two shifters in fast pursuit. We reach the street and I take a sharp left, moving around toward the front of the club. The bouncers might not be a match for a shifter, but the shifters won’t want to make a scene in front of humans and the bouncers can slow our pursuers down while we disappear.
That’s my plan, anyway.
Blondie’s not as steady as I’d like, but his hold on my arm is tight and he’s keeping pace with me. I drag him into the group of people waiting outside the doors to the club. We’re both slim enough that getting through the crowd is fairly easy and, even though a couple of people bitch about it, we’re soon at the front of the line where two burly men are checking IDs.
“Denny,” I huff, resting a hand on the big man’s bicep. I point toward the two shifters shoving their way toward us. “Those guys drugged my friend here and dragged him into the back alley.”
Denny scowls and nudges the other bouncer, Pike, with his elbow. “We got trouble.” He glances down at me. “Go back inside, Keir. We’ll take care of this.”
“Thanks. You guys are lifesavers.”
Pike motions me and Blondie inside, and I lead the way upstairs and into Heaven’s staff room. I lock the door behind us, then place my ear against the wood, listening for anything out of place—like shifters shoving their way in and causing a commotion looking for me—or, rather,us.
“They won’t risk it,” says Blondie. “This is already going to create all sorts of problems for their Alpha. They know better than to reveal anything to humans.”
“Okay,” I say as I straighten away from the door. “I guess we’re good then.”
Blondie gives me an appraising look. “Thanks for your help back there.”
“Yeah. No problem.” I shrug. “I, uh…”
He waits for me to find some words, but nothing is coming to me.
“You’re obviously not one of Rossi’s wolves, so who are you?” he finally asks.
“Keir,” I say without thinking.I should not be giving him my real name, but I suppose Denny already let that cat out of the bag.
“I’m Remy Matisse.” He stares at me expectantly, as if the name should mean something to me.
And maybe it should, but I have no idea what.
“Nice to meet you?” I shoot him a nervous smile. I’m making such a mess of this. It’s been ages since I’ve had a real interaction with another shifter. I know damn well there are formalities and shit like that I’m supposed to follow—or at leastknow.
Remy’s brows pull together, and he cocks his head to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you here for the summit? Who’s your Alpha?”
