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“Ah, what the fuckin’ hell.” At Harley’s shocked expression, he realized his frustration might have been mistaken for an answer. He sucked in breath after breath until he hit level and once more had a sliver of control. “No, Harley, I am not going to kill you.”
Harley sagged against the wall. “You always did have a way with words.”
“And you had a way of calming me that I’ve been without for a long while.” Shit, the Harley of long ago had been the only one who’d been able to break through his attitude back then, and there hadn’t been another since. “Now isn’t the time to reminisce.”
“Right. Now is when we run away.” She made as if to dodge around him and bolt for the door, but with a smooth grab, he caught her arm and spun her back the other direction.
“I never run.” He stayed firmly in front of the closed door.
“Well, I do. I’m damn good at running. Running is all that has kept me alive.” Harley’s angry retort made little sense. But then people being hunted often were not thinking at their best.
“You don’t need to run. Those cheap bastards won’t send anyone else after you.” At least not right away. His never-fail reputation would gain Harley some leeway. “Just start by telling me why they want you dead. I need to know exactly what happened.”
Harley paced slowly around the room.
Leaning against the back of the sofa, Zeven settled in for a wait. Even ten years ago Harley was a pacer. That was simply how she thought. The motion calmed her and allowed her best ideas to come out. Two or maybe three trips across the room and then she’d tell her story, then they could find a way out of the mess.
Without stopping, Harley began talking. “All I did was stop at a bar with some friends on the way home from the hospital. I should have known better. John’s instincts about danger have always been horrible and Roxie would go along with any idea.”
His stomach tightened into a knot. “Is John your husband?”
“Husband? Zeven, I’m not married.”
He drew in a deep breath and knew then the question had been pointless. The only scent in the house was Harley’s. She lived here alone. “Your name…I thought—”
“That I was married? No, I just changed my name. I was hoping to settle here and didn’t want the name Walters to bring your pack to my door. I guess that doesn’t matter much now.” The hitch in her voice twisted his insides just a little more.
Guilt came hard on the heels of relief. While she was telling him how her life had gone to hell all he wanted to do was rejoice that she wasn’t married. “Just tell me what happened.”
She nodded and rubbed her hand over her face. “John and Roxie work… They used to work with me in the hospital emergency room. We’d all just had a rough night. They thought a drink would help. I should have argued more, but instead, I followed them inside. The moment I did, I realized just how big a mistake we’d made.” She paced back across the room. “It was bad from the first step inside. The bikers there were all rough looking as if they were looking for a fight. Nearly every bad ass in the joint – about twenty of them- were jacked high on the need to get in on some action. I could tell that much and that everyone seemed to be werewolves.”
That brought him upright fast. Not many could tell his kind from the average human.
“Yeah, you heard me right. I could tell what they were. I’ve gotten very good at picking the werewolves out even when they try to blend in, which these ones weren’t attempting. Roxie and John were already at the bar, but I couldn’t get to them. I couldn’t even move. I knew it was turning ugly even before it did. The air was full of their emotions, flooding outward thick enough to choke me.”
Holy shit, how could she as a human have felt their emotions? It was something only other wolves could do, as far as he knew. Maybe she could just read their body language. But even a good eye for micromovements wouldn’t be the same as feeling their emotions. “Was that how you knew they were werewolves, by their movements?”
Her brows drew together. “No, I think there’s more to it. The way they move is part of it. But also, they always smell a little different and the way they radiate their emotions and hunger. I just always know.”
Interesting how she said them, rather than including him among the ones she hated and feared. He nodded to encourage her. “What happened next?”
“It all happened really fast. Several moved in on my friends right away and one of them started hitting on Roxie. And by hitting on, I mean aggressively. Probably their intention from the beginning was to pick a fight. They just all seemed so… pissed off. But the moment Dave tried to protect Roxie—” She choked on the words.
But before he could offer any comfort, she continued.
“I don’t really know what exactly happened after that.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “Much as I wanted to save John, save Roxie, I knew then that both were… as good as dead. I turned and bolted back out the door.”
The locals wouldn’t know that Harley had a history with their kind. All they would care about was making sure she and her threat were eliminated. “I’m sorry about your friends, but what were you thinking? You of all people should know better than to threaten a clan.”
She stared at him with her mouth hanging open for a long moment before exploding. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m no threat to them. What do you think I could do to a damn werewolf!” She stomped over to him and slapped a photograph against his chest. “My friends were murdered last night.” Harley’s hand stayed on his chest only until his own came up to claim the picture. “Today I found this in my locker at the hospital when I snuck in to grab my things.”
His jaw tightened as he stared at the picture. “The bar was the Rose Den?” It wasn’t really a question. Although the background of the picture could have been any dump of a bar, he recognized the scent clinging to the paper. The lingering aroma was a heady mix of over-the-top emotions and all of them from werewolves. There was only one place in Vegas that held that many pissed off wolves. Just like he’d expected, it was also the favored hang out for the more violent members of the Coyote Clan.
“Yeah, I think that was it.” Harley looked longingly at the door once more. “Now what?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. Thoughts of dragging her back to the bedroom and making up for the ten years apart came to mind.
“Zeven, I have to get out of here. No matter what you think, they will be coming for me. I’ve got a chance if I can get out of town now, before they can get any closer. I don’t want to die.”
