Chapter 2
Steven
Ah, shit.
Signs. Lots of them.
I adjusted the hoodie as soon as I exited my vehicle. Thank God I’d parked near the back entrance. There was a huge group of people in the parking lot near the main set of doors, all shouting and waving homemade and very colorful signs.
Given there were two distinct sides regarding the existence of shifters, they were screaming at each other.
“Werewolves are people too!”
“Fuck that. Werewolves are nothing but animals who deserve to be in a zoo.”
“No, they deserve to be hunted and killed.”
The sharp cries were nothing in comparison to the penmanship and art on the makeshift signs.
Werewolves: The Next Dark Meat
My fucking God.
Most of the time, I was easily able to ignore both the protestors and supporters. Unless they wanted an autograph from Steven Masters, the talented hockey player, I wasn’t interested. But today, I was floored by the level of anger driven into half the people.
Werewolves have rights!
Hunt and kill them!
Werewolves eat our children.
My stomach churned and I took a single long stride toward them.
After what I’d witnessed Saint going through and the lies told, I’d been left incensed and angry.
I’d worked very hard to shove aside my ill feelings for some humans, but a day like today and the horrible things being said made it very difficult.
I had no doubt the hate had been fueled by my supposed bombshell proving the haters right. No way in hell would I ever betray my brother.
Tyler had been right in that the teaser had been one of four that had been dropped about the huge guest appearance so far. I dreaded to see if there was another one, but there was a long time before now and Friday.
A blip on my phone caught my attention. For some stupid reason, I’d turned on social media notification.
Right after Tyler had shared the godawful news, my phone had started to blow up, not only with notifications on every social media page, but also calls from unknown numbers. I knew what that meant.
Reporters were ready to hound me like a fucking dog.
I backed away before the crowd could see me. The last thing I needed was to get in the middle of a melee. A blip out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Jesus. This was going to be a very long day.
A news van from Channel Nine had rounded the corner. Oh, hell, no. With my head down, I tried to act nonchalant as I headed for the rear door.
I’d be damned if I hadn’t accidentally turned my ringer up high.
Stopping short, I could tell by the sudden silence I’d also caught the attention of the crowd. Very slowly, I tipped my head over my shoulder. When I did, my hoodie popped off my head.
“That’s the Beast!” The shrill woman’s scream was all the others needed to take off running in my direction.
What the goddamn fuck? With at least one hundred people running in my direction, I found myself frozen on the spot. Now, some of the signs were being held like weapons as if at least half the people were going to tear me apart limb from limb.
This was insane. These were decent, hardworking people. Yet here they came all because I’d given them fodder for their devotion. Both good and bad.
I was at the outside door in a flash, groaning when I found it locked. Oh, no. I could rip it open. With no effort, I could yank the door off the hinges and toss it by three hundred feet.
But what would that solve other than putting even more fear of God into them.
“Beast. Beast. Beast!”
Then there was the thought of what my rabid fans would do if they caught up with me. Nah, being a superstar wasn’t on my bingo card. I pounded on the door, praying one of the security guards could hear me.
The crowd was getting closer, even running over each other to get to me first. Wait a minute. Were they chanting ‘kill’? Oh, fuck me. This was getting out of hand.
I pounded again. “Jerry! You better be there.”
They were close. Way too close. Holy shit. My body hummed, tingles of electricity tickling every synapse. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not even a little bit. If I wasn’t careful…
Bam. Bam. Bam!
“Jerry!” My yell was strangled as fuck, my skin now itching, which was exactly what happened mere seconds before I shifted.
“Beast. I love you. I want to have your children!” The woman’s scream brought an angry wave of jealousy. Now people were pushing and shoving to get to me first.
The odds weren’t looking in my favor. If I shifted, I could kiss my motherfucking career goodbye. I tried. I really did try not to shift. I was squeezing my muscles, trying to think of anything else that might prevent me from the transition, but it was becoming a losing battle.
“What the fuck is all the commotion about?”
As soon as Jerry opened the door, the force I used crashing into the corridor shoved him against the wall.
“What the hell?” he snapped until he figured out who was scrambling to close the door. “Oh, Mr. Masters, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. What’s going on out there?”
I’d no sooner closed and locked the door than the wild crowd had arrived, now pounding on the steel surface. Exhaling, I briefly closed my eyes. Was this what Saint had been forced to go through? Until recently, I’d been mostly a nobody, refusing to mention I happened to be Saint’s brother.
Then someone had found out.
Even then, I’d remained under the radar, never being photographed with the family or with him directly.
As if I was ashamed of who I was. “I was careless, Jerry. Fucking careless. Some people are afraid of the big bad wolf. I guess I’m nothing but a savage.
” While they shouldn’t be. The incidents of shifters partaking in any crimes, let alone killing and eating people, were less than three percent of crimes committed. Yet that didn’t seem to matter.
To some, we were nothing but ugly, heinous monsters.
“If you ask me, Mr. Masters, they’re the savages. You’ve always been very nice to me. Pretty cool, dude.”
Opening my eyes, I half laughed, trying to ignore the latest round of enticements offered by some women outside.
If I’d wanted to be a well-kept man, I could have my choice spending my days in a G-string and being stroked like a cat. Who knew. Maybe that’s how I’d retire.
“Thanks, Jerry. Means a lot today.” I stood to my full height, smoothing down my jacket. “Now, if you don’t mind doing me a favor.”
“Sure thing.”
“Can you get a security team to try and encourage my fans, haters, and members of the press to leave the premises?”
His grin was so bright it was like I’d asked him to be my own personal bodyguard. Hell, maybe that would need to come with time. “It would be my honor to do so. Looking forward to the game on Saturday. You’re my favorite player of all time.”
“Well, thank you, Jerry. You’re a pretty cool guy yourself.”
After shaking his hand, I moved through the bowels of the building toward the set of offices. Maybe I needed to stay away from parties for a little while. Yeah, but what fun in being a pseudo celebrity would that be?
Especially when Jell-O fighting was involved.
My thoughts drifted to the crap on the network. Someone must have tipped them off or pretended to be me. Why would anyone do that?
Who was I kidding? The why was easy. There were some people eager to do whatever it took to wipe us off the face of the earth.
I’d even heard through various circles that there were hunters banding together to try to flush shifters from the shadows.
At least I could laugh. They’d be wasting their precious time since we looked, acted, smelled, ate, drank, and fucked just like any other regular ole human.
When my phone chirped again, I stopped walking, ready to bite the head off a bear. I almost answered with a growl before bothering to look.
It wasn’t every day that the supposed smoking gun was confessing to spending time with your famous brother hunting humans.
Now, the network had been smart enough not to insinuate we’d tracked them down, capturing and carving them into delicate pieces for the grill, but human imaginations didn’t need much fuel.
The fire had already exploded as if TNT had been added.
It wouldn’t be long until I’d need to get a story together. I had to talk to my family and figure out how to handle the horrible situation before it got completely out of hand.
Besides, Jerry wouldn’t always be around to save the day. Grinning, I tried to shake off the experience.
The blip was just another notification. I could only imagine what Tyler would say about how my name was trending now.
I needed to talk to Saint, but he’d yet to return my calls. Did he actually believe our brotherly rivalry had pushed me into threatening not only his career but also his life? Did people not get that death threats had been tossed out before?
Hearing voices coming from behind the coach’s closed door perpetuated the gnawing I’d felt in the pit of my stomach.
Delaying heading into his office wasn’t going to change the outcome. I could feel bad news in my bones. That was the way I was made.
Maybe that’s why when I heard my father’s ringtone, I laughed bitterly. Speak of the devil. One of his many unearthly abilities was being a mind reader. I doubted that it had anything to do with being a big, alpha wolf and more about his honed instincts from being a father.
“Hey, Dad. How’s business?”
I leaned against the concrete block wall, closing my eyes in some crazy hopes of blocking out the bullshit.
“Don’t you dare ‘how’s business’ with me, son. What the fuck did you say to the people at the Today Show?”
“I didn’t say a single thing to them, Pops. And why do you always assume I’m the bad guy?”
“Call it experience. Let’s not hide behind any pretense, son. We have a crisis to handle and you know how I feel about this kind of shit.”
Nope. My dear ole dad had never minced words. Barrett Masters suffered no fools, including among his children. He was too powerful. Too influential.
Too fucking rich.
And always right.