1302 The Alpha (The 13th Floor), Page 2

  She shook her head. No, it wasn’t safe. Not for her and not for him. Wyatt would rip James apart just for being this close to her.

  “I can’t.” Stefanie glanced at her watch. “Damn it. I’ve got to get to work. You,” she said and poked him in the chest. “Stay out of the woods. Stay away from the others. They’ll kill you on the spot.”

  “It seemed like they wanted to kill you too. I can help, if you let me.” James held out his hand with the offer.

  “What they’ve got planned for me is worse than death. You need to stay far away from them and me.” Stefanie pushed past him. She’d have to hurry to work now to be on time. She peered over her shoulder, feeling a tug. His eyes seemed big behind those glasses, rich brown with flecks of amber. They were trusting and hopeful.

  It had been a long time since she felt that way. She sighed and stopped at the end of the row.

  “I’ll come back here tomorrow morning. Will you be here?”

  “Yes.” James perked up, bouncing onto his toes. If he was in wolf form, she was sure his tail would be wagging. Damn if the feeling wasn’t contagious. She was actually looking forward to seeing him again and not just to learn his little trick.

  “All right. Stay under the radar until then, Jamie.”

  “James.” His correction didn’t cause him to lose his smile this time. “May I have your name?”

  Manners and good looks. She finally smiled. “Stefanie.”

  Without a wave, she hurried out of the store and onto the street. The fresh air brought a wave of clarity. She shouldn’t have said she’d meet him again. It was too dangerous. His scent might be hidden, but hers wasn’t and her pack knew it very well. If they were searching the woods, they’d come into the city.

  She needed to learn James’ trick. Tomorrow she’d meet him, get what she needed, and chase him off. Simple, no fuss. Maybe after the pack left the area, Stefanie could get to know James better. She found she liked that thought, a little too much.

  No. It would never be safe for her. Not as long as Wyatt was alive. He’d always hunt for her. Any male that sniffed around her would be killed. And any female, she wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Porter! You’re late.” Her boss’ bellow was as big as his belly. Thankfully there were only a few customers in the butcher shop. The lunch rush hadn’t started yet.

  “Not late, boss. Right on time by my watch.” Stefanie didn’t bother unlatching the door under the counter. She hopped over, tied her hair back in a ponytail, and grabbed her apron.

  Desmond continued to bitch at her as she washed her hands and stuffed them in a pair of plastic gloves. She tuned him out, breathing in the delectable smell of meat. Working here was the only reason she managed to eat so well. There were no second rate cuts in this shop.

  Stefanie hadn’t many skills when she came to Carmine. She’d finished high school, but didn’t have a college degree. Art schools were too snooty. One thing she knew how to do very well was strip and dress dead animals. She could pick out the best cuts and tell when something was going bad before it even showed any signs. Much to Desmond’s dismay, she could lift half a cow and wield a knife better than he could.

  Even with all that, he’d find a way to fire her for being consistently late other than the fact she took as much pride in the meat as he did. For that alone, she knew he respected her and kept her on despite what he called her smart-ass attitude.

  Lunch was the busiest time of day, and only the two of them worked, but they kept the line moving steadily. Sometimes Desmond’s wife came in to help, but she wasn’t as in love with the meat as he was. On days she came in, she worked the register, but she was out shopping today, which likely added to Desmond’s foul mood.

  It was nearly one when Stefanie caught his scent. Her heart skipped a beat and her hands stilled. She turned, trying not to look as frightened as she felt.

  There he was in all his Alpha glory. Tall and broad, muscles like a young Arnold Schwarzenegger. His face was square but handsome. He might’ve made all the girls swoon if it wasn’t for his eyes. Not a lick of kindness in them.

  Wyatt grinned at her.

  She repressed a shudder and eyed the shop. Too many people were still there. And behind Wyatt, Scott lingered by the door. He was skinnier than when she last saw him on his nineteenth birthday. Scruffy and fidgety. Seemed like he hadn’t given up the drugs. Poor bastard.

  The rest of the pack wouldn’t be too far away, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t beat Wyatt.

  Desmond barked at her to get working and her hands started moving again. What the hell was she going to do? She had been idiotic to take a job at a butcher shop. Where else was the pack going to get food when they came to town? Wyatt wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best either.

  Blood raced through her veins. She needed a plan. The back door? Maybe. The alley emptied out right by the shop, though. Wyatt might’ve been too dumb to notice.

  Wyatt waited his turn, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He even let an old lady go ahead of him, smirking the whole time.

  Stefanie hated him. His smugness, his cruelty. She should just bury her knife in his forehead and do the world a favor. She wouldn’t survive being locked up, though. Did the state have the death penalty? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t risk anything here, but she didn’t doubt he would.

  Think, think, think. Back door. Run.

  Wyatt stepped up to the counter. He placed his hands, palms down, on it, leaning in with one shoulder cocked. Stefanie felt a growl rising in her throat.

  “Well, well. Long time no see, babe.” Wyatt chuckled. “I should have guessed you’d be working a job like this. You look good back there with all the meat.”

  “Bite me.” She snarled.

  “Oh, I will. I have.” Wyatt laughed and Scott echoed it.

  “Stef?” Desmond stepped forward, wiping his hands on his apron. He was a big man, but Wyatt still towered over him. “You know this guy?”

  “No,” she said the same time as Wyatt replied, “Yes.”

  Damn Desmond. He needed to stay back and not provoke Wyatt. Oh, who was she kidding? Desmond had a mouth as smart as hers.

  “Look, there’ll be no trouble in my shop. If you got some personal issues, you take them elsewhere.” Desmond puffed out his chest. It still didn’t extend past his gut. He glanced at Stefanie. “Tell me if you want this guy gone.”

  Stefanie would have been touched by his concern, but Desmond was no threat to Wyatt. Though Wyatt might hurt him to hurt her, if he thought the butcher mattered to her.

  “No need, thanks. I can handle myself.” Which meant running. And why wasn’t she out the door yet?

  “Whatever you want to believe, babe.” Wyatt straightened up, narrowing his eyes at Desmond for a moment. Then he turned his gaze and awful grin back to Stefanie. “Cut us up some lunch and get your ass over here. Make it easy on yourself and don’t make a scene.”

  Stefanie bolted. Running to the rear of the shop in the backroom, she heard Wyatt yell at Scott to get outside. She threw open the back door and almost ran into Matt. Seeing him hurt as much as seeing Wyatt. He snatched at her, and she barely managed to jump back out of his reach. She slammed the door and locked it.

  She wanted to make certain to keep any wolf out. In the front, she heard Wyatt hop over the counter and Desmond shout at him. He used some impressive curse words, but his tirade was cut short. The sound of a fist hitting flesh was unmistakable.

  Run. She had to get away. No back exit. Couldn’t go out the front. She couldn’t let him catch her. Not when she had finally gotten away.

  The vent above her blew gently, swirling a few loose strands of hair around her face. Up!

  Jumping, she grabbed the grate and pulled it off. There was no point in trying to hide what she was doing. She tossed it and jumped again, lifting herself up into the duct. Wyatt could follow, but it would be a much tighter fit for him.
>
  Stefanie scrambled, coughing at the dust. She came to the junction. It went right to the front of the store and up. She stood, braced her knees, and climbed up. The sides were tacky. Maybe from grease or whatever. She was glad that Desmond hadn’t had the vents cleaned in a long while.

  “Stefanie! Get back here, bitch!” Wyatt’s roar was amplified in the narrow confines. He banged on the sides by the opening in the backroom, but he didn’t follow.

  Up to the roof. She wasn’t moving fast enough for her liking, but she didn’t want to risk falling. Once at the top, she pushed her knees and back more against the sides before using her palms to push at the center of the fan. It wasn’t on at the moment, thankfully. It went in cycles. She wasn’t going to give it a chance to switch on.

  It didn’t take much effort to dislodge it. She shoved it up and through the outside grate. She’d no doubt Desmond had everything insured. He needed a new one anyway.

  Ridding herself of her plastic gloves, Stefanie climbed onto the roof. There wasn’t a fire escape to climb down, but she bet the pack would have that covered. She was only two stories up. She could jump it easily, but again, the pack was down below.

  The buildings on either side of the shop were taller. One was a brick wall and the other a billboard. All right, up again. She tossed off her apron.

  No one from directly below could see her, but there were people and cars all along the street. In the distance, she saw smoke from a fire. Hopefully that drew enough attention, so no one would notice a woman climbing up the side of a billboard.

  The wood wasn’t in the greatest of shape. She might be able to do it without extending her claws, but she wasn’t going to take the chance. She managed the climb, sneakered feet slipping a few times. Running over the roof, the next building was apartments and had a fire escape connecting to the one she was on. She jumped and climbed, feeling like those kids who played that new urban sport. Like gymnastics outside with cars and fences.

  On the roof of the apartments, she paused to take a breath. Continue up or dare to go down? The door into the building was propped open with a beer can.

  Then she saw a crouched figure on the ledge at the other side. He was all in black, hood of his sweatshirt up. Sniffing, she realized it wasn’t one of the pack. Was some guy going to commit suicide?

  Not her problem. She had her own hide to save.

  He leaned over, looking like he was ready to dive.

  “Hey! Don’t do it!” Stefanie shouted, sprinting toward him, cursing herself all the way.

  The guy startled and nearly slipped. He caught himself just as she snatched the back of his shirt. Her adrenaline was flowing, and she yanked a little too hard. He flew back and knocked her down with him.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Killing yourself is stupid.” Stefanie got to her feet in a crouching position and gasped when she saw his face. “James?”

  “Stefanie?” No glasses or argyle, but it was him. He rose to his knees, his shock plain on his face.

  “What the hell?”

  “It’s not what it looks like.” James brushed his hands off on his pants. “I wasn’t going to jump. I wouldn’t have fallen. I was just, uh, watching. Did you know the pack that was chasing you is down there?”

  “Yes.” Stefanie stayed crouched. “I don’t usually run around on rooftops. Do you?”

  His cheeks flushed, and he pushed back his hood to slide a hand through his hair as he stood.

  “You do. You hang around on rooftops. And do what?”

  “Well,” he said and crossed his legs. He started hesitantly and then gained more confidence. “Okay. I watch over the city. You know, see what’s going on and maybe help out when I can.”

  “What? Like Batman?” She snorted.

  “Kinda, yeah.” James flashed her a dimpled smile. “Batman has cool gadgets and a costume. I figured I’d be too memorable in a costume. So I just wear a hoodie, sometimes with a scarf over my lower face. People are less likely to remember what I look like that way. I figure since I have all these powers, why not use them to help people? Nothing big to draw major attention. Just muggers or bullies or whatever.”

  “Shit. You think you’re Batman.” Stefanie couldn’t stop herself from laughing. She’d never been into superhero worship and definitely wouldn’t do anything to draw attention to the fact she wasn’t human. People would flip if they knew there were things like werewolves and vampires in the world.

  “Not Batman, but I want to help.” James rose up onto his knees. His expression was amazingly earnest. “I know I can’t let anyone know what I am. Yet it feels like a waste if I don’t use my gifts. Carmine has problems. I can help. Is that such a bad thing? At least I didn’t go the other way and become a villain. Imagine the destruction one wolf could do before he was stopped.”

  Humor fled her face. That she could imagine. Wyatt and the pack had done their share of bad things, and they weren’t afraid to use their strengths to their advantage. Speaking of which.

  “Hey, look over and see if the pack is still there.” She bet they were, but she needed to make sure.

  “Sure.” James hopped up and peered over the ledge. It didn’t take but a few seconds before he nodded.

  It wouldn’t take the pack long to realize where she went. She might be upwind, but seeing she didn’t come down anywhere, they’d figure out she went across the rooftops. Gritting her teeth, she considered continuing farther along the tops of the buildings until the end of the next block.

  “I can help you.” James offered and pointed to the door.

  “I can’t risk going down right now. And, sorry, I don’t think you’d stand a chance against the pack. Not even Batman would have much of a chance against Wyatt.” Then she added, “The Alpha.”

  “I might fare better than you think. I’m a brown belt in jujitsu and I’m studying two other forms of martial arts. But I wasn’t suggesting I help you fight. I know a way down to the basement and into the sewers. We could get away right under their feet and they’d never know.”

  Stefanie raised her brows. Well now, he was a clever wolf despite his ridiculous desire to be a superhero. She nodded. “Let’s get going then. Lead the way.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Stefanie would never get that stench out of her clothes, and maybe not even her nose. Well, the more atrocious the stink, the less likely the pack could track her. She still wasn’t going to take any chances. They went a good ten blocks before coming out, and then she took him back to her apartment.

  No, she didn’t know him, but there was something about him she trusted. Besides, he’d never get on the 13th floor if he were a threat. The door swung open for him just as it had for her when she first found it. Now she was even more certain she could trust him.

  “The thirteenth floor. That’s so cool. I didn’t think many of the older buildings like yours had one.” James said.

  “It doesn’t.” Stefanie peered down the hall to make sure no one else was around. Her neighbors liked their privacy as much as she did. She pushed open her door. “Go on in.”

  “You don’t lock it?” James stepped in. His nose twitched as he breathed in his new surroundings. He didn’t walk farther than the entry until she closed the door and went in ahead of him.

  “I lost my key. No one’s going to break in here.” She walked over to the fridge and retrieved a pair of soda cans. She tossed one at James without asking if he wanted one. It was the only thing she had to drink other than water, and she needed to wash out that foul taste from her mouth. The sewer stench lingered with a fetid tang.

  Stefanie popped open her can and drank nearly half before pausing to swish the cola around her mouth. It was good to concentrate on the stink rather than the fact there was someone in her apartment. Her den. And not just someone, a male wolf.

  “Yeah, okay, but what if some man breaks in while you’re sleeping and—” James stopped and then shook his head. “That man would then be toast.” He tapped the bottom of his can and
then opened it. Taking a swig, he surveyed her place. “So, this is cool. Retro artist. Even though I saw you at the store looking at supplies, I didn’t peg you to be the artistic type.”

  “Why not?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Well, uh,” he stumbled with his words, head bowing down under her glare. “You’re a tough woman. Quite fit, for obvious reasons. Obvious to us anyway. And you’re a little bit country.”

  “What? I’m not a little bit country.” Stefanie snorted and finished off the rest of her soda. It helped a tiny bit, but she needed to get out of her clothes and into a shower.

  “It’s the northern accent and the cowgirl attitude.” This time James grinned as she glared at him. “You can’t deny it. You’re in charge and you won’t let anyone forget it.”

  All right. She did have a bit of a Wisconsin accent, but no one else ever commented on it. But a cowgirl attitude? Where did he come up with these things? “You read too many comic books.” She tossed her can into the garbage pail. “I am in charge of my life. No one controls me and I mean to keep it that way. But that’s all I’m in charge of.”

  Now. It hurt to say it. She was meant to lead a pack not stay hidden away in a little apartment in the city alone.

  “You’re a natural leader. I find myself following you and I can’t help it.” James took another swig as he regarded her. His brows slowly rose. “That’s your pack chasing you. You were the Alpha. But something happened and now you’re not. They’re hunting you far from your territory, which says something about what you did.” He nodded, excitement building. “Okay, let me guess. You must’ve done something pretty bad.”

  Stefanie was across the room and nearly chest to chest with him within a second. “I didn’t do anything. Don’t you start thinking I’m some big villain for you to battle. You don’t know me or anything that’s happened. My life isn’t a party game. Shut up, don’t sit on anything, and don’t you dare touch my paintings.”