I straightened. “I’m not playing. I’m totally serious.”
Bren’s typically jovial spirit vanished. “So is this bloodlust shit. If some vamp is f**ked-up enough to release that poison, she’s not going to care who gets in the way.”
“But isn’t that more of a reason to stop her?” I argued.
“The hell it is. Leave that to pack weres. It’s their goddamn duty to guard the world from all the mystical evil shit.”
I didn’t agree with Bren, but I also didn’t want us to fight. And neither did Emme. She tugged on Bren’s “I heart Tahoe babes” T-shirt. “Guess what, Bren. Celia has a boyfriend.”
I sighed. “Misha is not my boyfriend.”
Emme’s jaw dropped. “I meant that wolf you met on the beach.”
“Oh…him. He’s not…I mean, I don’t even know him.” I squirmed a little, wondering why my body suddenly felt so hot.
Taran’s all-knowing smirk inched its way across her face. God, I hated that smirk. “No. But you want to. Really want to.” She danced her eyebrows. “Don’t you, Ceel?”
I stiffened. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Bren laughed out loud. I couldn’t blame him. I was a horrible liar. Discussing a male I’d only been able to fantasize about bordered on pathetic—considering my sisters frequently enjoyed the company of real-life suitors.
Shayna shifted her weight excitedly in her seat. Her face beamed, her butt bounced, and her finger pointed directly in my face. “You’ve been running every day, twice a day, since seeing that wolf. Don’t think we’ve been falling for that, ‘Ooh, I have to go shopping again. Does anyone need anything from the store?’” She nibbled on her lip. “So…have you seen him?”
“No.” Despite my marathon-length runs, I hadn’t caught one whiff of that wolf’s addicting aroma. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Mostly I just wanted to see him again. And hoped maybe he would approach me.
My faced burned hotter, especially when my sisters grinned my way. It seemed strange how the mere thought of the wolf brought an easy smile to my face.
Taran winked at me. “Ceel, we have to find that big, bad wolf.”
“Bren! What the hell are you doing?” Bren’s boss screamed at him from the bar.
“I’m on break, Paul!” Bren shouted back.
“Break’s over, dipshit. Get back to work!”
Bren rolled his eyes and returned to his station at the bar. Immediately a cluster of women with horrendous boob jobs swarmed him. If Bren weren’t so popular with the ladies, Paul would have fired him years ago.
I’d barely finished my third beer when a small pack of wolves in their human forms entered the club. Every vertebra in my spine stiffened, hoping he walked among them. My shoulders slumped with disappointment when my wolf failed to appear. Still, I couldn’t relax. The powerhouse pack tingled my senses like a shock wave.
The wolves stalked across the crush of dancers toward the bar, shoulder-to-shoulder, moving smoothly as one. The human patrons perceptibly sensed the wolves’ dominance at a primal level. Some gawked; others cuddled closer to their partners. Most scrambled out of their way. A few of the brave straightened, growing wary of the sudden danger.
Bloodlust, supernatural stalkers, and werewolves. What was next? Locusts and four horsemen? Taran’s irises briefly turned white. “Celia, three weres are coming toward us.”
“I know. I picked up their scent.” My tigress instinctively growled. The wolves’ collective power had been strong enough to change Taran’s eye color and send my tigress’s territorial instincts into overdrive.
“Good grief, they’re huge. Are they the same ones from the beach?” Emme asked, sounding hopeful.
I shook my head. “No, they don’t look familiar.”
The weres didn’t need to do more than glance at the guys sitting across from us, and the six guys crowding the booth vacated fast. The weres claimed the space and watched us closely once they picked up our scent, ignoring Bren’s watchful gaze from the bar.