Rebecca Royce: Angel’s Wolf

Angel Kane had seen enough male shifters begging to be her mate to last a lifetime.

Sitting down at the truck stop diner, surrounded by the sounds of the highway outside, she ran a hand through her dark-as-night black hair and wondered if she had finally lost them.

Julian Vincent and Houston Darvill were the most persistent of the pain-in-the-ass men she had encountered lately. They’d been chasing her since she left New Orleans two weeks earlier. She’d thought she’d lost them when she got to Maryland but she’d been wrong. They’d shown up two days later, much to her chagrin.

So she’d run. Again.

You don’t have to run. I told you. We can take them. All of them. Easily .

Angel signaled to the waitress that she wanted coffee before sinking further into her seat and tried to ignore the smell of grease wafting from the kitchen. Her wolf was always so sure of herself, so capable, so completely confident that they could kick the butt of anyone who threatened them.

But Angel had seen enough violence to last a lifetime. She shivered at the thought.

After her pack leader’s death, her wolf pack had dissolved into near chaos. The wolves had run amok through the streets of New Orleans, causing havoc everywhere they went, particularly to the women. A wolf pack was supposed to be a safe place for females, but that wasn’t the case when the guys got to simply pick you out and pronounce you their mate whether you or your wolf wanted them at all.

Then again, it sounded like the New Orleans pack was a walk in the park compared to what happened in her native pack on Westervelt Island when she’d been a baby.

They’d butchered all their women, including her mother, who had barely managed to send her off to New Orleans for safekeeping before she’d been killed. Even though Angel had recently found out that she had brothers on Westervelt, she didn’t dare go there and find them for help.

No, that would be like exchanging one bad situation for another one. The answer wasn’t just no, it was hell no .

“What can I get you?”

Angel smiled at the waitress. She was a fifty-something woman who wore her bottle-blonde hair in a high ponytail. It wasn’t a good look for her since it made her dyed roots much more evident than they would otherwise be.

Her wolf sat up in rapt attention. Should we make her feel good?

Angel hadn’t used her powers since they’d gone on the run. She’d been terrified to.

What if it brought Houston and Julian right to her side? Still, not using them hadn’t exactly kept them away.

Sounds good .

Placing her fingers lightly on the waitress’ white apron, so gently no one would notice, she smiled as she sent her power into the nice lady serving her.

“I’d like a ham and cheese sandwich, please. No french fries, but I will take the coleslaw and maybe you better make it a pot of coffee instead of just one cup.”

It was a multi-cup-of-coffee day. There was no question.

“Oh.” The waitress smiled and swayed slightly on her feet. It was okay, that was a perfectly natural reaction to Angel’s use of power on a human. She’d be okay in a second. “I’m sorry, for a second I was a little bit dizzy but now—oh wow, I feel fantastic.

I feel like I could fly to the moon if I needed to and—oh—I don’t want to wear my hair this way anymore. I think I’m going to go back to my natural brown or, better yet, maybe I’ll let myself show the grey. It would look very chic on me.” The woman closed her mouth abruptly. “I’m so sorry. I’m talking your ear off. I have no idea what has come over me.”

“You’re fine.” Angel couldn’t help grinning. “I’m glad you’re feeling so well and, please, wear your hair however you prefer.”

Still grinning, the waitress went away to put Angel’s order in to the kitchen. Or at least that’s what Angel thought she did. She couldn’t read the woman’s mind. She might be going back to the kitchen to dance a jig for all she knew. The only thing that mattered was that she’d made the woman feel wonderful for today. The rest of Nancy the waitress’

day would be a happy, uplifting experience. Angel had been told it was a bit like walking on sunshine.

She rolled her eyes at her wolf. Why did you tell her to change her hair? That was my private thought.

Her wolf lay down, growling low at Angel’s reprimand. You were right about the hair issue. I thought to help her. Don’t you get huffy with me. We’re running away, which makes me mad at you already.

Nancy returned with the coffee pot and set it down. Smiling as she heard the other woman humming to herself, Angel tried to feel satisfied with her own lot in life. Things weren’t really that bad.

So what if she currently had no place to call home? She had money thanks to the businesses she ran, and she would find some place that was hers.

Maybe if she went out west…

A sudden scent wafted into the room, catching Angel’s attention. Usually she could ignore the smells that defined the human world. She’d learned how as a child. Some shifters went nuts due to the constant assault on their nasal passages, but not Angel. She knew she was made of stronger stuff.

But this she couldn’t ignore. This was the smell of woods, of man, of hope. She stood up. This was wolf. She took a deep breath. Yes, there was a male shifter somewhere in here and she’d caught his scent.

Breathing deeply, she wanted to grin. She’d never smelled anyone who made her senses feel like this. Usually male shifters, especially ones who wanted her, made her want to gag. This scent was like heaven. She’d had a taste and she wanted more.

She shook her head. Wow, she’d not even seen this guy yet. What was the matter with her?

Mate .

Her wolf’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

Oh no . She knew what that entailed. Soon, she’d be dragged off and locked up never to see the free world again while he screwed her until he got her pregnant. She closed her eyes. No. No. No. She wasn’t doing that. No frickin way.

Her wolf interrupted her internal rant. You have the wrong idea of mating .

Angel sat back down in her seat. She wasn’t going to find the guy. No, in fact, as soon as her food arrived, she was leaving. As fast as possible.

Oh yeah? I have the wrong idea? I’ve watched it for thirty-five years. I don’t want it.

Her wolf huffed. That’s a distorted version of mating .

Mating led to killing on Westervelt .

And thinking of that reminded her that where she was, somewhere in New Jersey, would be as close to Maine as she was going to get. Any nearer and she’d be too close for comfort to Westervelt Island. Yes, she was definitely going west.

A crash sounded in the kitchen and Angel stood up again. It was the scent wafting through the room. It was making her jumpy. She moved quickly toward the scent.

Nancy came out from the kitchen carrying her tray with a dance in her step. “Now Bob, don’t come down hard on him. It’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Everything okay?” Angel asked.

“Oh,” Nancy laughed. “Did you hear that crash? Yes, everything is fine. I knocked over a bunch of glasses. Come sit down.” Angel did as she said following the older woman back to her table. “I’m only concerned Bob, that’s our owner, is going to come down too hard on Parker. It’s not his fault.”

Angel really hoped that Bob—the owner—wasn’t the one giving off the lovely scent that played games with her sanity. He didn’t sound like a nice guy.