Weres didn’t typically attack, but that didn’t mean I’d turn my back on them. They were tall, over six feet, with the large chests and lean muscles typical of wolves. One was Native American, with long, loose black hair that hung past his shoulder blades. He was good-looking in an “I’ll rip your throat out in one bite” kind of way. But his most prominent feature was his eyes. They reminded me of the start of a dangerous storm, a turbulent brown that bordered on black. The were sitting next to him was Asian, possibly Japanese. He had short black hair and a thin, well-trimmed goatee. And unlike his friends, who wore jeans and T-shirts, he’d dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was handsome in a stoic way. His presence held a sense of calm, but his dark almond eyes remained vigilant.
The third wolf reminded me of a rock star. If he were on a stage, girls would’ve thrown their panties at him. His messy blond, spiky hair must have required a lot of hair gel to perfect. He carried a definite edge, but his face possessed a boyish charm. I glanced around to see what had made him smile. I knew we were in trouble when I caught Emme blushing and smiling back.
Oh, crap.
Part of me wanted to grab her and run when he approached our table. Instead, I remained still, despite the rise in my hackles and the growl rumbling in my throat. To add to my unease, the other two weres exchanged glances and followed.
“Hi,” he said to Emme. “I’m Liam, Liam Smith.” He nodded toward the Asian. “This is Gem, and that ray of sunshine over there is Miakoda.”
“I go by Koda,” the Native American said. He shot Liam a snarl that caused my claws to protrude, but Liam ignored him.
Emme smiled so sweetly at Liam, I feared the poor sap might need insulin. “I’m Emme Wird. These are my sisters, Celia, Taran, and Shayna.”
No one said anything at first. Koda, Gem, and I were too busy sizing each other up. If it came down to it, I thought Bren and I could take them in a fight.
Liam remained oblivious to the tension. “Would you like to dance with me, Emme?” he asked, extending his hand.
“Sure.” She strolled off before I could stop her.
Shayna, who could sense the growing strain between Koda and me, intervened. “How about a dance, big guy?” she asked.
This broke Koda’s eye contact with me, and he seemed genuinely surprised. “Are you talking to me?”
Shayna’s grin lit up her face. “Well, duh. I’m looking right at you, dude.”
It wouldn’t have shocked me if no one had ever asked Koda to dance before. He was a scary mo-fo of epic proportions. Shayna wriggled to the edge of the seat to leave, but not before I shoved the toothpick from her martini into her hand. She giggled and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, Ceel,” she whispered, glancing at Koda from the corner of her eyes. “I’ve got this one.”
Koda moved aside to let her out of the booth. Shayna grabbed his hand and led him out to the floor like a well-trained poodle rather than a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound werewolf. I couldn’t believe it. Taming someone like that was impressive even for her.
I turned to Taran, who had been unusually quiet. Gem slid into the booth next to her. They stared into each other’s eyes, but not in a challenging way. Most guys gawked at Taran. I was used to that. Yet the way Gem stared at her wasn’t sexual; it was tender, and it put me on edge. I couldn’t understand what the hell was going on, but thought it best to run interference.
“So, what kind of name is Gem, anyway?” I asked, trying to rip his eyes off my sister.
“My nickname is Gemini. My real name is Tomo Hamamatsu.”
“Is that your astrological sign or something?”
He returned his gaze to Taran. “Something like that,” he muttered.
Taran said nothing. Hell, she barely breathed.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Another fun night out with the girls.
I enjoyed a good paranormal romance as much as the next gal, but there was only so much lovey-dovey crap I could take. After fifteen minutes of watching Taran and Gemini reenact the last few seconds of Ghost, I left to take a seat at the bar.
The brunette flirting with Bren scowled at me the moment I slumped onto the stool. I slammed my purse onto the bar, tired of dealing with petty bitches. “Do you have a problem?”
Bren groaned when the tramp ran like I’d set her sequined miniskirt on fire. He shoved a lime into another Corona and handed it to me. “Are you trying to ruin my chances of getting laid?”