Shelly Laurenston - Go Fetch

To all the Mikis in the world…you know who you are. And no, you can’t hide.

And to my California family for taking such amazing care of me when I need it most.

He sniffed the air again. He knew that smell dammit. He knew it from somewhere and it was going to drive him crazy until he remembered where. He kept moving, tracking the scent through the forest, as the rave went on in the clearing behind him.

He tore through the trees, the branches ripping at his fur. The scent shifted, so he stopped and spun, sniffed the air again and moved. This time he overshot, and they came out of the dark, attacking him from behind. Teeth sunk into his flank. Snarling and turning, he knocked them off before they could get a firm hold. One of his Pack mates and a full-blood joined him, but by the time the wolves turned, they were gone. His Pack mate spun in circles trying to see where they went, what they looked like, and who the hell they were.

They weren’t Pride, they weren’t wolf, and they sure as hell weren’t human. Whatever they were, they didn’t belong. They were out of their territory. He just wished he could remember where he’d smelled that scent before. He had no idea what had attacked him, but they were gone now. Their scent lingering, but still unknown.

Conall headed back to where he left his clothes. He’d protected the Pack, now he was ready to get back and enjoy the rave. He realized that, although his Pack mate had gone off to check the area more fully, the full-blood was following him. He let him, because he didn’t fear him. The full-bloods let them into their territory because they knew they were there to protect a woman. His Alpha’s mate—Sara.

Full-blood wolves howled and the full-blood with him stopped to join in. Conall let the sound wash over him. He loved that sound, more than anything. He stopped in his tracks and, without thought, leaned his head back and released a howl that blended in with the howls of the two hybrid Packs at the rave. This was something that didn’t happen every day. Three Packs howling as one. All for one female. Sara deserved it, though. The female kicked major ass.

Another scent hit him. A scent he’d been coming to love lately. If she let him, he would roll in it all day. He headed toward that wonderful scent, happily realizing she was near his clothes.

He silently moved toward her. She sat on a rock, reading an oversized paperback book. Squinting, forced to use the moonlight and the light from the rave to illuminate whatever she read.

Up to this point, he hadn’t been able to dedicate any real time to his pursuit of her—too busy trying to protect his Pack. The few times he’d approached her, she’d been less than receptive. A nice way of saying every time Conall came near her, she ran like a rabid pit bull was on her ass.

But now that they’d wiped out the Withell Pride—the Pack’s sworn enemy—his time was his own. At least for the moment. So he could give her his full attention. Besides, she looked hot and, for once, she was on her own.

He padded up to her, her scent pulling on him like a leash, so close to her that his nose was just inches from her neck.

Like a flash, her upper body twisted, a good-sized hunting knife in her hand. He shifted and blocked her arm with his. Good thing, too. She could have cut his throat from ear to ear with that thing.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Then she glanced down and her eyes widened even more. “What is it with you people and being naked?”

He loved how annoyed she sounded. “It’s a shifter thing.”

“That’s fascinating, but if you don’t put some clothes on I’m going to have to start chopping at things that are protruding.” And he knew she would.

“My clothes are over there.”

“Get ‘em.”

She lowered her arm and slipped the blade back into the sheath at her side. Conall had no doubt she knew how to use that knife. He’d seen her in action. She was an amazing hunter—for a human.

And an even more brilliant piece of ass.

Conall walked over to the pile of clothes he’d left by a tree and put them on as Miki went out of her way not to look at him. He’d seen the woman blow the head off a Pride female with a single rifle shot from a moving vehicle, but his cock seemed to unravel her. Weird girl.

He figured he’d have to say something since she was going out of her way not to speak to him. “I’m Conall…” he began.

“We already had this conversation.”

“…Víga-Feilan,” he finished. Just like that, she cut him off. That was new. Women never cut him off before. They didn’t necessarily find him fascinating but they faked it real well. At least until they got laid.

But his last name did seem to interest her, even though she didn’t look away from her book. “Víga-Feilan?” People always said his last name back to him. Like an echo. It was an odd name and one he wouldn’t change for the world. “Isn’t that Viking?”

He stared at her, his Harley T-shirt in his hands. “How the hell did you know that?” True, it was actually a Norse byname, but Viking was close enough. No one ever knew that. Ever. Miki was the first to call it right. Christ, he wanted her.

“There are these fascinating places with books in them. They’re called libraries. When you’re not chasing your tail or balancing a ball on your nose, you should think about going to one.”

He watched the sly smile she had on those gorgeous lips and he grinned. Oh, yeah. He liked her more and more every second. A girl this mean would definitely be one hell of a wild ride.

Miki glanced up at his silence and raised an eyebrow at his smile. “You know, when you’ve got folks out there howling and sniffing my ass, I’d say it’s kind of dumb to stand around staring at me. I might snap at any moment.”

Christ, he loved her voice. Kind of low and husky, with that sweet Texas accent. It played right across his nerve endings. And he had sniffed her ass, but only once. “That sounds promising.”

She sighed and went back to her book.

He finished getting into his clothes and then sat down in the dirt to pull his black Harley-Davidson boots on.

“What are you reading?” He didn’t really care. He just wanted to hear her say something else.

“A book on wolves.”

That did peak his interest. “Really?”

“Yeah. Will it be necessary for Zach and Sara to have sex in front of you?”

Conall’s head snapped up at her sudden—and scary—change of topic. She stared straight at him and he realized she was serious. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? Because according to this, the Alphas are the only ones who can mate and they have to do it in front of the Pack.”

“But we’re human…sort of.”

“But you run around in a Pack. So don’t you do other Pack-like things?”

“Well…uh…I…that is, we…” Conall shook his head. “They will not be having sex in front of us. And trust me, we can all have sex.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I see.” She went back to her book.

Conall finished lacing up one boot and moved to the other. “So, Miki what do you…?”

“I’m reading.”

“…do?” He blinked. He’d never gotten dismissed so easily. And this girl was dismissing him all over the place. His annoyance peeked out, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “You’re reading at a rave? You really know how to party, don’tcha?”

Without even looking up from her book, she gave him the finger.

Man, she is so mean. He was glad he had his jeans on. He was hard as a rock.