Mr. Red Riding Hoode

Especially the snarly voice in his head that told him to hunt down this Gina person and rip her goddamn throat out.

With his teeth.

He took another swig of tequila, hoping to drown the voice out. Unfortunately the alcohol wasn’t having the effect he’d hoped it would.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You might want to lay off the booze, man.”

He eyed Dave blearily. Damn, that was some fine tequila. “Why’s that?”

“You’re growling.”

He picked up his glass, surprised when it was empty. See? This was why he didn’t drink. His glass always wound up empty. “Oh.” He laughed, afraid it sounded more like a giggle than anything. “Cool.”

The two men exchanged a look. “You’re happy that you’re growling?” Ben sounded surprised. “It means you’re turning.”

“Your fangs are showing too.” Dave was grinning as he put his arm on the back of Ben’s chair.

He poured another shot into his glass and raised it. “The better to protect you with, my dear.”

Chela was on cloud nine. She had her mate, she had her home, she was Omega of her Pack, and her life was damn near perfect. She was disgustingly cheery this morning, a fact Belle had pointed out with that vapid smile that had more than one grown man running from the room in total, abject fear.

But not Chela. Not today. No, today she was going to stay disgustingly cheerful no matter how much her Luna snarled. She’d been living with her mate for over a week, and things were blissfully happy between them. They talked, they laughed, and she’d even caught signs that his Wolf was beginning to emerge. Not much was going to get her down today.

Besides, Belle was happy for her. She could feel it, like bubbles in champagne. She’d have to check with Ben, see if Belle’s bad hip was bothering her again today.

Belle was the one who’d talked Rick into installing a heated pool and spa somewhere in the lodge. The exercises the Luna did eased her pain greatly, but even so, Ben had told her that Belle was always in some pain, that it never ended. Unfortunately, the doctor she’d been seeing, Jamie Howard, had lost his mate to a rogue shifter, nearly dying himself. Only the intervention of one of the local Bears had saved him, and rumor had it that the good doctor hadn’t thanked him for it.

Chela couldn’t imagine losing Steve, and she’d only known him for two weeks. The thought of losing him and surviving? She shuddered. It would be like trying to survive without your soul. She prayed that something happened before Dr. Howard lost himself to his emotional pain, or not even Rick would be able to stop him.

Steve was somewhere in the lodge, his scent faint but present. She grinned, hoping she’d be able to meet him for lunch. She had plans for Christmas for both of them, plans she wanted to hint around. She was hoping he liked what she had come up with, or she’d have to figure out how to live in New York.

No respectable Wolf wanted to live in New York. It was run by Coyotes.

Chela shuddered.

She scrunched up her nose at the thought of the New York Coyote Alpha and his relationship with Rick. The two had become friends, even going so far as to grant each other unlimited access to each other’s territory, but still.

Coyotes.

She followed the faint scent of her mate, the tantalizing odor becoming stronger and stronger as she approached Lowell’s restaurant. Damn it. He must be eating already. She peeked inside, hoping to join him.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her mate was there, all right.

And he wasn’t alone.

The blonde with him was curvy, with bright blue eyes and a smile that would send strong men to their knees. She was laughing at something Steve had said, her head back, the throaty sound causing more than one male gaze to flitter her way. For a split second, Chela imagined taking that wealth of blonde hair and holding on to it while she cut her damn head off and played soccer with it.

Then she did the smart thing and opened her senses, using her Omega power to see how her mate felt about the blonde.

Affection was the first emotion to assault her, and she nearly cried out in pain until she realized that the affection was similar to what he felt around Ben and, to a lesser extent, Dave. This woman was close to him, yes, but not a lover. The woman’s emotions filled her as well, the closeness a friendly one rather than romantic. This woman was no rival.

Chela could breathe again.

She sauntered toward the table, determined to be introduced to the young woman having lunch with her mate.

A whiff of something strange, something shifter, caught her attention. It wasn’t long before she realized it came from the laughing blonde. What was that? She hadn’t scented it before, but they’d been really isolated before Rick came. Dave had even taken online college courses rather than attended college the way he’d hoped to.

There was something vaguely feline about that scent. Cheetah, maybe? It wasn’t Puma, the only really feline scent she was familiar with, but it had the same warm undertones that the Luna scent did.

“Graciela.” She stopped trying to figure out what the scent was, only to find she’d reached her mate’s table. He was smiling up at her with warmth she hadn’t dared hope to see before the mating instincts kicked in. He stood, offering her a short, sweet kiss and taking hold of her hand. “How has your day been?”

She smiled. “Pretty good. Better, now that I found you.”

His answering smile was almost as happy as she was certain hers was. Her cheeks felt hot, but inside she was dancing with glee. “You want to join us? We haven’t ordered yet. Charlie just arrived.”

The blonde wiggled her fingers hello. “Charlene Lowe, but everyone calls me Charlie.”

Chela stilled. Lowe? Smelling like a feline? Oh, shit. She wondered if Rick was aware a feline Lowe was in his restaurant. “Um. Hi.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Please don’t do that. It’s why I told Dave not to tell anyone who I was until I after got here.”

Steve looked back and forth between them, the bubbly happiness he’d felt the moment he spotted her disappearing. “What’s going on?”

Chela took a seat with a sigh. “Lowe is the family name of the…” She glanced around the restaurant at the humans eating their meals. “The CEO of the Wildlife Conservation Foundation.”

The shifter Senate ran a legal corporation headed by the Leo, the ruler of the American shifters. It was a charitable organization that was mostly concerned with the conservation of endangered species. They only accepted donations from shifters, so they didn’t fall under public scrutiny. The Wildlife Conservation Foundation did a lot of good, helping to repopulate the wolves in Yellowstone National Park and giving the big cats born in the United States a safe environment to live in. She’d heard that there were more tigers living in the United States than any other place in the world, and the WCF helped to take care of them.

Wariness spiked through Charlie, but her gaze was remarkably bland. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh.” Chela felt faint. She was sitting at the table with the sister of the Leo himself. She’d pictured playing soccer with the woman’s severed head.

She was so dead it wasn’t even funny.

“He’s a pain in my ass.”

Steve chuckled. He had no idea who he was sitting across from, but Chela would make sure he found out as soon as it was safe to do so. “Do tell.”

“He thinks that because he runs a huge corporation he gets to tell me what to do.” Charlie sniffed disdainfully. “As if.”

Chela tried to relax, but the fact that the Leo could show up looking for his errant sister had her shaking in her shoes. “Why are you here?”

Charlie actually sagged in her seat. “I’m here to visit Dave, get a job—”

Oh shit.