Barry stared at him while slowly wiping the bar with a filthy rag. Austin couldn’t recall ever seeing Barry crack a smile. “This ain’t the Gilded Lily. We got beer and we got rotgut. We don’t have a whatever the hell you just said.”
Austin grinned fiercely. He knew that. He’d been staying in this remote shifter town in southeast Washington state for the past three months, and this was his bar of choice. The Gilded Lily was the fancy upscale bar at the other end of town, where the wealthier shifters went. He never set paw in there. They reminded him of his family, of his original pack.
He’d just ordered the mojito to let Savannah know that he knew exactly what she liked to drink. To get under her skin.
Savannah stared at him, narrow-eyed.
“The mark that you have out there in the car? He was mine, you asshole. I did all the work. I spent weeks tailing his dirtbag friends, squatting in the woods, getting eaten alive by mosquitos, not to mention a major case of poison ivy rash on my butt, and you followed me and snatched him away right before I got to his hideout.”
At the mention of her butt, he perked up. He loved her butt. It was so big and round and squeezable – so he imagined. “This is all true. Can I check out that rash? It sounds like something you really should get looked at.”
There was murder in her light brown eyes. “I shifted into fox form and it healed, you ass. And by the way, why are you in here drinking, when you’ve got a man trussed up in your back seat and a bounty to collect?”
“He mouthed off at me. Pissed me off. So he’s sitting out there sweating it out while I knock back a cold one.”
“It’s freaking eighty degrees out!”
He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I parked in the shade and cracked a window. And he’s a shifter. He’ll survive. He’ll be very hot, sweaty and uncomfortable, but he’ll survive.”
Shouts from the corner of the room drowned out Savannah’s response. Half a dozen shifters were rolling around on the floor, all in human form, throwing punches and swearing. As Austin’s gaze swept through the dimly lit bar, he saw a few men watching him warily. He wasn’t surprised. A couple of weeks ago, the dark visions that had been visiting him for months had swooped down on him right as he was grocery shopping in downtown Greenville. He’d flipped his shit, shouted at the twisted creatures from his visions, and then he’d shifted and destroyed the bakery aisle.
When reality had swum back into focus, he’d been standing in a pile of smashed wood and bread crumbs, and everyone in the store had fled.
He already had a killer reputation, but this was making people question whether he was on the verge of going feral.
And since he had the Dominus gene, that would be bad news for everyone in the region. The Dominus gene meant that he had powers – even greater powers than most Alphas. He could force other shifters to change form, he healed at an accelerated rate, and he was physically stronger than a dozen men his size put together.
He reached for his beer again.
Savannah put her hand over the top of the glass.
Her voice turned saccharine-sweet, with an underlying bite to it. “So, the point I’m trying to make, Austin. Why are you even here in this part of the state? Your pack doesn’t live here. You’ve got plenty of work to keep you busy all over the Northwest without stealing my marks from me.”
“Ha. You’re lecturing me on stealing? You’ve stolen three of my marks in the past three months.”
Her lips twitched in what looked suspiciously like a smirk. “Harris put the calls out, they were open to anyone, and the fact that I got to them first doesn’t mean that I stole them. It means that I’m a better bounty hunter than you.”
Harris was the broker who handled all the calls for rogue shifters in the Northwest region. It had been done that way for the last century. If a pack didn’t want to go after one of their rogues, they were required to hire licensed, officially approved hunters. That way, there weren’t a bunch of reward-hungry, wannabe gun-jockeys running around shooting up everything in sight or shifting in public and risking exposure.
Austin pulled his beer out from under Savannah’s hand and took another swallow, enjoying the crisp, cold liquid as it slid down his throat. “No, it means that your family knows everybody in this part of the state, so everybody was helping you and trying to screw with me, and I still got three marks – no, make that four, counting Torrin out there – before you could. But who’s counting?”
Her brow wrinkled in frustration. The fans circling lazily overhead barely cut through the hot, stuffy air, and sweat beaded on her temples. He imagined licking her salty sweat, then nibbling her neck, and then…
“Quit screwing with me and move on, Austin. Stay off my turf. I mean it.” There was a snap to her tone now, and her scowl was meant to intimidate. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
“But I like it here.” He grinned fiercely. “There’s such beautiful scenery.” He let his gaze slowly drift over her body, making his meaning very clear.
She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, but it was too late. He could see the glorious swelling buds of her nipples, and a jolt of arousal shot through him.
If she looked down, she’d see exactly how much he appreciated the scenery, because he was rock hard now, straining against his jeans.
“Stay away from my marks.” She punctuated her words with another slap on the bar.
“Or?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Or…you’ll find out.”
He sighed and shook his head reprovingly at her. “Now, that was disappointing. I was really hoping for an actual threat. You go home and work on your insults, princess, and I’m going to finish off my nice cold beer. Run along, now.”
