Shelly Laurenston: The Beast in Him

“We better go back inside.” Mace pushed open the back doors. “You guys okay?” he asked the two males and one female monitoring the screens and keeping in close contact through headphones with the entire team.

“Yup,” the female answered as she quickly flipped through channels, those gold leopard eyes picking up everything.

“Good.” Mace slammed the doors after Smitty jumped out and the two headed back to the party.

They quickly checked on front-door security and walked inside the building, a four-story brownstone the company that hired them owned. They weren’t a big company but apparently quite powerful. Computer and database security specialists or whatever. To be quite honest, Smitty really didn’t care. Their money was green enough, and they had lots of it.

Smitty and Mace stepped into the main ballroom and glanced around.

These people definitely knew how to throw a party. This wasn’t some mere—and boring—black-tie event. This was a geek party to the nth degree. Hardcore tech music, old-school video games lining the walls, an insane amount of food and liquor—all free—and a hot waitstaff dressed up like those disturbing Japanese animation girls. He’d never seen so many girl school dresses paired with garter belts before in his life. Yeah, these people definitely knew their audience.

“Smitty?”

Smitty faced his business partner.

“This is Sierra Cohen. Miss Cohen, this is my business partner Bobby Ray Smith.”

Smitty shook the female’s hand and sized her up at the same time. Yum. Jackal. There weren’t a lot of jackals in the world, but the few he’d met were damn cute.

Using his most charming smile, Smitty asked, “So, this is your business, Miss Cohen?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m just a hard-working employee. The owners aren’t very comfortable with the general public. So I’m kind of the face of the company.”

“I can see why, darlin’.”

She gave a throaty laugh and took a step closer. “I have to say, Mr. Smith—”

“Smitty, darlin’. Everybody calls me Smitty.”

“Smitty, I have to say I was very glad to find... uh... our kind with a security business. I know my employers felt much safer with your team than with the full-humans we usually hire for this event.”

“Well, we are available for any security needs you may have. Actually, any needs at all.”

He had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing when he caught Mace rolling his eyes in disgust. Before Detective MacDermot came along, it would have been an ugly fight between the two friends to see who got this little honey into bed first. But now that the big-headed lion had mated and married the lovely and big-breasted cop, poor Smitty was all on his own.

“That’s very good to know. I’m sure there’s something you can take care of for me later tonight.”

“Any chance,” Mace cut in, “you two can put a hold on this lovefest until the job is done?”

“Don’t mind him, darlin’. He’s married.”

Mace snarled and Sierra looked at him in confusion. “Married? Why?”

“Because it made my sister want to set herself on fire.”

Smitty laughed, clearly remembering the way Missy Llewellyn growled and snarled her way through the ceremony. Then Sissy Mae, Dez, and Ronnie Lee, Sissy’s best friend and next in command, spent the entire day torturing Missy. Definitely fun to watch.

“My employers are big on marriage,” Sierra added absently. “Marriage and pups.”

“Aren’t we all big on our pups and cubs?” Mace asked, although he looked like he really didn’t care what her answer might be.

“Sure. But they’re really big on their pups. Anyone gets too close and they get really tense.”

Smitty frowned. “Wolves?”

Sierra shook her head. “No.” She turned and nodded toward the enormous doorway. “Wild dogs.”

Surprised, Smitty watched Sierra’s employers walk into the room. There had to be about ten of them and, he guessed, not the full Pack. They wouldn’t leave their pups alone except with other dogs they trusted.

Seeing them immediately reminded him of a sweet little She-dog he used to know. And, like her, they weren’t large like the other shifter breeds. In fact, wild dogs were the only breed that shifted into a smaller animal. As human, the men weren’t usually taller than five-ten or five-eleven and the women five-eight or five-nine. They were wiry and lanky, and watching them move, Smitty guessed they were a lot stronger then they seemed.

Another wild dog burst through the doors and made a beeline toward Sierra. She was gorgeous—Asian with almond-shaped brown eyes and full, sexy lips. Her dark hair reached to her waist and she exuded sex appeal.

Unfortunately, she was marked. Smitty could smell it on her a mile away.

“Sierra, you need to get up onstage,” she said with a country lilt he hadn’t heard in a long time from anyone not in his Pack.

Sierra nodded. “I’m on it.” Her hand brushed Smitty’s arm, letting him know she’d be back.

After she walked off, dark brown eyes locked on him and Mace. “Gentlemen.”

“Ma’am,” Smitty answered back. “How y’all tonight?”

The female raised one eyebrow. “Y’all making fun of my accent?”

“No, I thought you were making fun of mine.”

Her expression changed quickly when she smiled. “Where you from?”

“Tennessee.”

She pointed at herself. “Alabama.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alabama.”

They shook hands and laughed while Mace looked about two seconds from jumping out the closest window.

“I’m Maylin. But everybody calls me May.”

“Bobby Ray Smith. We’re handling your security tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right. The shifter-run security company. I have to say I was quite surprised to find a Smith this far north. I’m from just outside Smithburg myself, and I never thought y’all would cross the Mason-Dixon line.”

“Well, too many Alpha Males and not enough territory. Figured it was time to see what else was out there.”

She glanced at Mace. “Your kin can’t be too happy with you working with a cat.”

“They tolerate him more than you’d expect.”

May started to say something else but stopped when the music cut off and Sierra walked out onto the stage at the front of the room.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Sierra Cohen.” Catcalls and whistles followed her statement and Sierra dismissed it laughingly with a wave of her hand. “I’m the VP of Promotions. And I wanted to thank you all for coming tonight.”

Sierra continued to ramble for a bit, and May grabbed two glasses of champagne off a tray passing by. She offered one to Smitty, but he waved it off. “Sorry. On duty. Need to keep a clear head.”

“I thought wolves just had to stay away from tequila.”

“If he drank tequila,” Mace muttered, “you’d find him passed out on the dance floor by now.”

Smitty glared at him. “So now you decide to contribute to the conversation?”

Onstage, Sierra’s voice rose. “So without further ado, let me introduce the CEO of Kuznetsov Security Systems... Jessica Ward.”

Smitty’s head snapped around and he watched Jessie Ann walk out onto that stage like she owned it. Maybe she did.

The applause Sierra received upon her entrance was nothing to Jessie Ann’s reception. It sounded like they were at a rock concert with the reaction she got.

She didn’t look anything like the Jessie Ann he remembered, all gangly limbs and lots of bruises. She’d finally put on some weight and it fit her perfectly, giving her some sexy curves. She’d cut her hair so it rested on her shoulders, straightened it, and dyed it one single color—dark brown. No jeans and sci-fi tees either. Instead, she wore a simple blue silk dress with tiny little straps barely holding it up and five-inch heels strapped to her feet. She looked mature and polished... and nothing like the Jessie Ann he remembered. He almost mourned the loss of that know-it-all geeky Jessie Ann. He’d always liked her raw edges and weird behavior. It made her different from everyone else around him. Now she looked like any other important CEO—gorgeous but average.