The Mating Need (Werewolves of Montana #15) - Bonnie Vanak Page 0,2

was his kind?

The kind that doesn’t belong anywhere.

He heard all too familiar sound – the same kind made the day his father told him they were leaving, but he was not going with them. If he tried, he’d be sorry.

“Get the hell out of here.” The bartender showed him the business side of a shotgun.

Troy got the message, dumped some bills on the bar, and picked up his duffel. He headed for the exit.

Rain splattered on the sidewalk as he trudged along, ignoring the wetness down his neck, leaking past his sheepskin jacket, wetting his shirt. Worse things than getting wet and being cold.

As he started to pass a dark alleyway, he heard a cry. Troy stiffened. None of his business. He’d already done his good deed for tonight. Can’t get involved.

But the same protective urges that got him into trouble before wouldn’t let him take a step further away. Instead, he headed into the alley.

Dim light leeching out from a second story window showed exactly the reason for the cry. A female, petite, her shirt torn and exposing one pale breast, struggled against three humans holding her captive. Skins, his kind called them. One kissed her neck as he held her long braid, jerking her head back. A fourth stood a little ways off watching, unzipping his pants, massaging his junk.

Damnit. Rape was not happening on his watch. His hackles rising, Troy dropped his duffel, ready to tear into the bastards.

Growling a little, he advanced toward them.

Suddenly the girl’s hands were … glowing? Fuck yeah, they glowed white. Not only her hands, but her eyes turned white as if lit from within. She flung out her hands and all three Skins sailed through the air, hitting the brick wall behind them.

Troy grinned. Good for you.

To his surprise, she growled low and shifted into a wolf.

Well damn, how about that? Another Lupine who had more than Lupine powers.

One Skin shrieked as the wolf pounced, tearing at his leg. The other two ran to the end of the alley and were trapped. The wolf dealt with them next, tearing into their legs, incapacitating them. A hot copper smell, blood, filled the alleyway.

The watching Skin dropped his hand, his erection fading as if someone dumped ice water over him. Troy grinned again. In a few strides, he was at the man’s side.

Troy throat punched him. Perv Guy tumbled down like dead weight. For good measure, Troy kicked him in the balls. The man screamed, and fainted.

The wolf bounded over to him, growling.

He backed up, held up his hands. “Easy girl. I’m on your side. I intend no harm.”

Showing her teeth, the wolf stared at him.

Troy gentled his voice, making it low and soothing. A former lover used to call it his persuasive tone that could sweet talk the most celibate woman into ripping off her clothes climbing into his bed. He didn’t use it for sex often. Didn’t have to, not when women were willing to be his bed partners.

On the road he used to calm volatile situations, or in this case, a volatile wolf.

“I know you’re scared. I can smell your fear. If you get into human skin, I can help you. You can’t be a wolf in the city. Too many Skins. They’ll want to haul you to animal control or worse. Like shoot you.”

She shifted back, a swirling mass of incredible colors accommodating her shift before he could even blink. Whoa. He’d never seen a Lupine shift back into Skin so fast.

Troy pushed a hank of wet hair out of his face as she clothed herself through magick.

Young, early twenties. Big blue eyes, wet black hair hanging in a thick braid down her back, a vulnerable look to her, like a lost lamb.

But this girl was no sheep. More like super wolf.

Troy gestured to the alley’s exit.

“Get your stuff. We need to get out of here before the cleanup crew arrives and a certain wizard punishes you for exposing magick to Skins.” Troy didn’t know when Tristan, the wizard who judged Lupines, would arrive, but he wouldn’t take chances.

The girl had been through enough tonight. She didn’t need that jackass wizard scolding her or worse.

The girl grabbed a backpack that seemed painfully thin.

“I’m Jenny. Jenny Logan.” She shivered. “Thank you. I can’t believe… that almost happened to me.”

“Troy Gilbert.” He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it around her slim shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here and home to your pack.”

“Don’t have a pack. Or a home.” Those