Howl for Me - Cecilia Lane Page 0,2

the cooler at the center of the clearing.

Oh, fuck that.

Tor raced after him. A handful of leaps put them neck and neck. Ears laid back against his head, he pushed himself to his limits. His heart hammered in his chest. His paws dug into the soft earth to propel him forward. Faster. He needed to be a hair faster.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

He twisted off his path as paint splattered against the ground. More pellets fired off, aiming for both him and Shane. Still, Tor drove ahead, weaving this way and that to make himself a harder target to hit. Victory was close. So close. He could already taste the cold bite of beer and satisfaction of coming out top wolf for the day.

A snarl in his ear was his only warning. Shane slammed into his side and snapped his fangs inches from his neck.

Tor jumped back to avoid Shane’s powerful jaws, then lunged into his own attack. Blood burst on his tongue as his fangs sank into Shane’s shoulder. The other male locked his legs, a vicious growl rattling in his throat. Savage jerks of his body yanked him out of Tor’s grasp, and he spun into the attack.

Asshole. He'd be fine with an outright hauling of their asses for the prize in the center of the clearing. Hell, he'd even thrown down for a good, old-fashioned brawl. Snapping at him the way he did? Unacceptable. Fucker was on the fast track to feraltown.

A snarl worked its way out of his throat. Discomfort, unease, and a healthy dose of downright fury worked through him. Shane wasn’t the only one working his way to the dreaded fate. He’d be damned if he let the other wolf end him before then.

Tor snarled and snapped at the other wolf. His legs bunched under him. Muscles worked hard to launch him into the air, a smooth arc aiming right for the crazy bastard. He slammed into Shane, and both hit the ground in a heap of limbs and fangs. They scrabbled for purchase, to get upright, to land that final blow. He wanted submission, but he doubted Shane would stop with him cowering under him.

A barked order demanded their attention.

Shuddering against the command, Shane lifted his eyes to glare murder at Tor before switching his focus to the Blackwood enforcer standing on the edge of the clearing.

Gavin lifted his lip in a long, low, disapproving snarl.

Well, fuck.

Chapter Two

Zelda maneuvered around a pothole and immediately sank into another of the many that cratered the street. She gritted her teeth. A little extra pressure on the accelerator rolled her out of the danger…

She jerked to a stop as a man glided from one side of the street to the other, inches from her hood.

He twirled on his bright pink roller skates and narrowed his eyes before spinning back around and shooting into the awning-covered bakery that promoted gluten-free and vegan goods.

She wasn’t going to roll down the window and yell at the man to brush the flowers from his beard and get a job. Nope, not her. Not when it was her free-spirited, hippie mother who really deserved the words.

Zelda took a deep, cleansing breath and glanced both ways. Too late, a gaggle of mustaches and suspenders strolled through the crosswalk. One pointed to the vegan bakery, but others disagreed and offered their own gestured suggestions up and down the street.

They, like the bearded, skated man, weren't anything like what she expected when she first learned where her mother had relocated without a word. A greasy diner or two, yeah. A coffee shop that served only black and eyed anyone requesting cream and sugar with suspicion, sure. Essential oils, organic tea leaves, and soap making, not so much.

The coffee shop—appropriately named Beans—had a front window display asking if she was ‘berry’ interested in trying a new beet-and-berry concoction that made her stomach turn. Just a few stores down was an old-style swinging metal sign advertising an apothecary, a vintage store catering to records, and a yarn supply shop. Judging by the bicycle rack filled with a multicolor spectrum of bars and seats, they were all doing a steady bit of business.

Ashtown, Georgia was a weird little curiosity.

No matter. In and out. Collect Celeste and go. Cleaning up messes created by her mother was second nature. Fetching the woman from the jaws of a hipster haven was simply another memory for the scrapbook.

Zelda looked from left to right again before easing forward.

And sank into yet another pothole.

Balls. Maybe