Eve Langlais - Scared of Spiders

“I want you to come back. I’m even prepared to increase your salary,” he announced magnanimously.

Josie shook her head. “No, thank you. I like it here.”

The jovial look on her ex-employer’s face darkened, and his piggy eyes narrowed. “Listen here, missy. Either you take my offer, or I’ll…”

She never got a chance to find out what the ‘or else’ part was, because Clint, his face reflecting the thunderous expression in his eyes-and looking totally hot-picked her ex-boss up by the material of his jacket and shook him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing coming in here and threatening my wo-employee.”

Josie knew she should protest, but, honestly, she quite enjoyed watching the perverted bully getting his comeuppance.

“I-I.”

Fabric tore, and her ex-employer, not looking so threatening anymore, dropped to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, only to have Brandon grab him by the nape of the neck and propel him out of the nearest open bay.

Brandon came back, a grin on his face, while Clint gazed down at her with concern. “Are you okay? Do you want me to go out and smack him around for you?”

Josie was stunned speechless at the way they’d both come to her rescue, but, inside, her heart swelled. And in that moment, she realized something shocking. She was falling in love-with both of them.

Flustered, she muttered her thanks with red cheeks and downcast eyes. She fled to her office as soon as she could, feeling the burning weight of their stares at her back.

I must be going nuts. Falling in love with two men who, while kind and courteous themselves, have yet to ask me out on a date. Crazy or not, her burgeoning feelings made her more determined than ever to work hard and prove herself to them. And that was why she ended up going in on a Saturday when the company was closed to get some extra work done.

She was deep into her spreadsheets when the murmur of voices caught her attention. She ignored them, even as her body flushed in interest wondering if it was one of her good-looking bosses.

Ignorance removed itself from the list of options when the first savage snarl sounded from the warehouse floor.

Oh, my God, what was that?

Clint and Brandon filed into the warehouse followed by the rest of the pack. A shiver ran through Brandon as the lingering scent of Josie hit his nostrils. He breathed deep. Damn, it was as if she’d just walked by and the sweet aroma, uniquely hers, made him hard, even given the reason for their presence at the warehouse on a weekend.

“Do you really think they’re going to show up?” Brandon asked Clint as he leaned against some stacked crates. He hoped the rogues showed up quickly so they could take care of business and still salvage enough of the evening for him to ‘drop by’ Josie’s place with a movie and a pizza. The whole going slow so as to not scare her was chafing to both him and his beast, which whined to mark her. He could sense the impatience in Clint, too, the only saving grace in their battle to win her affections.

“Oh, they’ll show,” said Clint, his expression hard. “I made the message pretty clear. Meet us on our terms, or we’d take their no-show as an act of war.”

“Should have gone for war,” grumbled Brandon. “You know these rejects aren’t going to join the pack. And even if they leave town, they’ll just end up terrorizing another place.” The rogues had caught their attention when they’d shown up in their town a week or so back and didn’t follow pack protocol by checking in with the alpha for the area. They’d further broken pack rule by hunting without permission and causing bodily harm to a human. Unacceptable, hence the summons for them to appear and face judgment.

“My pack. My rules. Besides, I get the feeling there’s another player guiding them. Rogues aren’t usually so brazen.”

“Speaking of which…” Brandon trailed off and stood up straight as he took his position of beta beside his alpha. The rogues came slinking in, a juvenile-looking bunch with greasy hair and biker-styled clothing. Wannabes who in their very arrogance were dangerous. Brandon still thought killing them all was the best option. If someone was pulling their strings, that would send the message of “fuck off or die,” too.

But, then again, his kill-now, oops-later attitude was why he wasn’t pack leader. He’d let Clint enjoy the headaches. Besides, while Clint was occupied with pack politics, it left Brandon more time to pursue their little mouse, whose commanding tone in the office was at odds with her timid nature outside the workplace. But the occasional spark of attitude proved she was coming around. Slowly.

The rogue leader sauntered up to them with a cocky grin on his face. “So, who’s the old guy in charge?”

Clint gave the arrogant pup a cold smile. “Me. Why? You think you can take me?”

The smile on the young rogue’s face didn’t falter, and Brandon wanted to shake his head at the stupidity. Youth was well and good, but Clint was just entering his prime, and aside from his experience, he outweighed the pup by several stones.

“Name the place, old man, and I’ll whip your ass for control of the pack.” The challenger and his lackeys laughed amidst the growls of the pack. The pup laughed louder at the encouragement of his mangy followers, and it was then that Brandon noticed something disturbing. While all their faces were twisted in a rictus of laughter, their eyes shone with madness and, in some cases, even tinges of fear.

Brandon wished they were in wolf form where he could have spoken to Clint and warned him to watch for treachery, for it was becoming more and more obvious the rogues were merely puppets, and the power to control that many meant a strong player had entered the fray without announcing themselves. Bad manners.

“Choose your body,” said Clint, his tone hard and his posture brooking no nonsense.

“Wolf of course,” grinned the young rogue as he stripped out of his clothes to reveal a lean muscled body that, without its concealing layers, appeared even smaller.

Clint, on the other hand, once stripped looked even more imposing with bulging muscles all over that Brandon grudgingly admired. No matter how much I work out, I don’t have the build for that kind of bulk.

Clint’s shift into his wolf-a huge black monster with intense glowing green eyes-was effortless. The pup, on the other hand, really had to force his beast to emerge, a painful process that just reinforced Brandon ’s impression that the rogue group didn’t act of their own will.

Clint sat on his hairy haunches and waited for the smaller wolf to attack, which it did with the rabid intensity of a pit bull. However, it was clear from the onset what the outcome of the fight would be.

Clint’s wolf let the young one snarl and snap, then in a show of force meant to intimidate, flattened the pup in one fell swoop. With his massive jaw, he pinned the other wolf by the throat to the floor.

That should have ended it, instead it acted like an invisible switch and Brandon barely had time to shift, his clothes tearing as his wolf shoved through. Just in time, too, for the pack of rogues, shifting in a burst of fabric, attacked.

Brandon actually enjoyed putting the mangy pack in their place. And he would have emerged unscathed if a gasp of fright hadn’t distracted him. He turned his head to see Josie with her eyes wide and a hand clapped over her mouth watching them from the stairs to the office.

A second later, his inattention caused a wolf flying at him to knock him down, sharp teeth snapping at his throat. Brandon scrabbled for the upper paw and regained it in time to hear Josie shriek.