4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Abby
Levi begged me to keep this job. Totally unnecessary, seeing as I was at least as desperate as him. I couldn’t afford not to. It was worth risking my head every time I stepped into Gage’s office if it meant I wouldn’t be homeless and jobless in a strange city with no contacts.
But having an alpha shifter in a suit that cost more than my car completely at my mercy was a once in a lifetime experience, so I schooled my face, deciding if now was the right time to ask for a higher training wage.
“I’m so sorry, Abby.” He rubbed his forehead. “I can promise you that won’t happen again.”
“It’s okay,” I wheezed, trying and failing to sound reasonable.
Truth be told, it wasn’t okay, but I was freaking out so much I didn’t know what else to say. I had just come face to face with the jaws of an angry shifter for a second time in so many months. At least last time the worst I got was biting words.
I was pretty sure Gage was actually trying to bite me.
I could still feel phantom teeth at the curve of my neck, the pressure soft. He wanted to bite me. Somehow I sensed this frantic desire to sink in, to leave his mark.
A thrill shot up my legs at the thought.
A thrill of fear because what the hell? Did shifters just go around biting people? To my knowledge, shifters only took a bite for a very specific reason, and that was absolutely not the case here.
Gage was far too disgusted by our momentary contact to feel anything remotely decent toward me.
My pulse was drumming erratically through my veins. It felt out of sync, rattling the way a misfiring car might.
I glanced at the door and heard a strange ping .
No, didn’t hear it but felt it inside me, a musical tugging sensation.
“My brother—” Levi chewed the inside of his cheek, hunched over at his desk and looking decidedly less like an alpha than he had an hour earlier.
“Gage has PTSD,” he finally blurted. “I’m sure you understand that our background exposed us to harsh conditions. Being a shifter means experiencing both heightened senses and emotions. We feel deeply. That also means we’re triggered easily.”
I folded my hands in my lap, smoothing the contract across my legs.
“I won’t sugarcoat things. Gage is an asshole. He’s hard to work with. But he’s also really good at what he does. He’s not just invaluable to this firm, he’s invaluable to this pack.” Levi leaned forward in his seat, steepling his hands. A potent energy began to fill the room, his demeanor shifting so quickly it was jarring. It felt commanding. This was what he must have meant when he said he was a “dominant” shifter. “He would do anything to protect the people in this office. That will include you.”
I opened and closed my mouth. His tone was certain, and he believed his own words so thoroughly that I did too. But what did I need protecting from?
My past, maybe.
My own mistakes and where they landed me.
My self-pity.
“You don’t have to work with him if you don’t want to. The job is still yours.”
The feeling of a balloon deflating in my chest sent a cough up my throat. That strange sensation had been bothering me since Gage walked into the conference room.
“When do I officially start?”
Levi beamed. There was a dazzling quality to him that should have made my heart race. Instead, the balloon in my chest deflated more.
“Now. You can start right now.”
When Levi told me he was dangerously behind on accounting and business filings, I thought he was exaggerating.
He wasn’t.
I had about one week to help him compile the appropriate documents before the IRS stormed the office and took everything right down to Ezra’s plants as collateral.
By all appearances Levi was a confident, put together businessman. You didn’t have to stand next to him and feel that dominant energy pouring off him to know he was king wherever he went. His gaze, his tone, and even the way he carried himself screamed alpha.
Alpha didn’t equal organized, apparently.
It was a shifter problem, a breakdown in hierarchy as they tried to integrate their pack expectations into the human expectations for business. Now that Levi had explained their pack hierarchy, I understood that was a nice way of blaming Gage for this chaos.
Gage and chaos were two words that ended up in a sentence a lot around here.
The alpha was supposed to manage members of the pack. He kept them in line, carried their emotional burdens with them, and offered them support in whatever way they needed. The alpha’s second was meant to manage the rest.
Basically, the alpha got to smile and kiss babies like a politician and his second had to run around after him like the overworked campaign manager.
That was how I saw it, anyway. It was clear from my first two weeks here that Gage was easily set off course, but Levi was all over the place too.
I was constantly rescheduling meetings and having to hound him to complete the paperwork that needed to be submitted yesterday . He disappeared at random, putting work on hold to leave the office and do…I couldn’t even imagine what.
What did a shifter do in a city like Seattle?
Before I’d never really considered the complications of shifters living in urban areas because I hadn’t realized how often they needed to shift. Were there lions and bears walking around downtown Seattle?
And if they were, was it really so impossible to wait until business hours were over before turning into an animal and howling at the moon?
I probably shouldn’t ask that one out loud. I wasn’t sure if wolf shifters actually howled at the moon, and I was already on the cusp of offending Gage just by existing.
No one on the team was uncomfortable disclosing what kind of shifter they were but they didn’t exactly give me a rundown of what being a wolf, bear, or tiger shifter entailed.
Did Ezra snack on honey all day?
Were Levi, Mason, and Gage aware of the phases of the moon?
I did walk into Kai’s office and find him napping in the sun on more than one occasion…
I resisted the compulsion to click the end of my pen again, folding my hands over each other and holding as still as I could. There was a single chair between Gage and I, and it simultaneously felt like too much space and not enough.
I could feel him burning holes in the side of my head with his gaze. I hadn’t caught him yet, because somehow, he was staring without looking up from his laptop, but I knew he was doing it. Dominant shifters had a physical weight to their presence and Gage’s was the worst.
I was accustomed to the others, mostly, but for some reason Gage made me feel like all the air was being crushed from my lungs. Then I was lightheaded, clumsy, and fumbling as I did my best to be professional with him.
That was the way he spoke to me—not uttering a single word that wasn’t work related—so I was going to do the same.
And I was also going to die from the pressure of the silence between us. Levi was running behind—again—which meant I was alone in the conference room with Gage.
Talk about awkward.
The worst part was that I had this insane urge to stare at him the way he was pretending not to stare at me. I just wanted to look at him, to notice the way his hair couldn’t decide if it was straight or curly and how the bridge of his nose created an arc down his face.
If I was going to find myself inexplicably attracted to someone in this office, it shouldn’t be him.
Not because he was ugly but because the way he behaved was ugly. Behavior could make someone unattractive.
Objectively he wasn’t as good looking as his brother. His hair was a smoky shade of brown, his brows too, and there was a permanent scowl fixed on his face that left thin little lines across his forehead. He had this angry cave man look going on and it should have made him annoying at best.
I kept trying to tell that to the butterflies in my stomach.
The last four years of my life were committed to a single man. I didn’t admire other people, didn’t so much as have a celebrity crush.
And look where that loyalty got me.
Now I suddenly had the freedom to be attracted to someone and Gage felt…safe.
He hated my guts and would rather French kiss a crocodile than go on a date with me. That was good. I wasn’t remotely ready to go on a date with anyone—maybe I never would be—and I couldn’t risk catching feelings for someone in a pathetic post-divorce rebound.
Besides, business and pleasure did not mix. I worked in HR long enough to know how that ended.
The conference room door pushed open, so slowly that I almost thought it was the air conditioner until a tall, dark-haired woman crept inside. She was literally creeping, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, knees bent so she could walk on the tips of her toes.
Amelia Patelle was a new client with no background file from the firm. Levi made it clear that it would stay that way. I was to buzz her in from my desk and allow up to fifteen minutes beyond our scheduled meeting before she joined us in the conference room.
My assumption was that she was a public figure that wanted the perks of having a shifter bodyguard without risking her privacy. It wasn’t unusual for wealthy clients to be especially cagey about their personal lives.
That was before I saw her. I could tell by that odd energy around her that she was a shifter. Unlike the guys, she didn’t swagger into the room as if she owned the place. Her build was athletic, but the sharp curve of her collarbones suggested most of her strength was lost to malnourishment. Smoky rings hung under her golden eyes and her brown skin was dull.
“Alpha,” Amelia whispered, still looking anywhere but at Gage. “You honor me with your presence.”
That carefully avoidant gaze made a gradual journey in my direction, catching on my face for only a moment before she bowed, coming around the table to take my hand like I was a queen, and she meant to kiss it. “And your ma—”
“My assistant,” Gage snapped, sending Amelia scurrying across the room to stand in the doorway. “We don’t do that weird honor shit here.”
I finally fixed my gaze on Gage, glowering at him for his bluntness. This woman was clearly terrified.
“Amelia,” I said softly, holding out my hand.
The whites of her eyes showed as she tip-toed back over to me, her body angled away from Gage like she expected an attack. Her fingers were icy and trembling when she took my hand.
“Would you like to have a seat?”
“Y-yes. Yes, thank you alph—”
“She’s not alpha either,” Gage said, barely softening his tone.
I rushed to speak before he could make this worse. “Levi is running late. He asked me to get you anything you need. How about a hot drink?”
Amelia met my eyes for the first time. She looked confused. “A drink?”
“Coffee? Or maybe hot chocolate? I have the kind with the little marshmallows.”
She blinked at me, still baffled. “For me?”
“Of course,” I answered, pushing out of my chair. “I’ll just be—”
“No!” She snatched my hand back, then glanced at Gage and flinched. “Please don’t leave.”
I studied him peripherally. Did she know something I didn’t, or was she that nervous?
“Amelia,” Gage said sharply, energy pulsing around him. “We’re not that kind of pack. Snap out of it.”
I was about to chastise him, dominance be damned, when I saw Amelia transform. She rolled her shoulders back, her neck lengthening, eyes glowing with the presence of her animal, whatever it was. “You’re not that kind of pack.”
“We’re not. Now let her make you the damn hot chocolate. Otherwise, she’ll keep fidgeting and I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
I jumped up from my seat, giving Gage a startled look. I’d barely done more than shift my hands in my lap since we were waiting in here and that was enough to make him lose his mind?
Amelia smiled timidly. “Your assistant? ”
“Yes,” Gage answered brusquely.
“It must be a human phrase?”
O-kay, I was choosing not to read into that. There was always a layer to anything shifters said, unspoken messages that presumably only their animals understood. After two weeks I’d given up trying to interpret any of it.
Levi was walking into the conference room when I returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate plus two chocolate chip cookies, and Amelia was back to cowering. It could be overwhelming when Gage and Levi were in the same room—any of the guys, really—but I thought surely as a shifter Amelia wouldn’t be as affected by it.
If anything, it seemed worse for her than for me. A shiver visibly traveled up her back and she jumped as I set the mug on the table in front of her. That sent her eyes glowing brightly, her features sharpening.
Gage started growling again. Amelia’s eyes immediately dimmed.
Levi cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for the delay. My lunch appointment and I had a bit of a disagreement.”
Um, what lunch appointment? I was responsible for his schedule, and this was the only appointment he had today.
Levi moved slowly, rolling up the sleeves on his button-up shirt. Was it me or did it look wrinkled since I last saw him?
Yeah, there was definitely some kind of black smudge on the back of his white shirt.
Somehow he managed to look up at Amelia even though he was at least five or six inches taller, with a smile that was all pretty boy charm. That was almost more dangerous than the scary alpha vibes.
Almost.
Amelia flushed, making eye contact with her hands, and murmuring, “It’s an honor to be in your presence alpha.”
“And an honor to be in yours,” he replied.
The color in her cheeks darkened and she risked a swift glance at him, judging his sincerity and finding it acceptable.
“Your alpha sent me to you. She said you had claim over Seattle.”
His alpha? Levi was alpha, wasn’t he?
“Not over the entire city. My pack holds claim over only a small portion. Neutral territory for unaffiliated shifters.”
“My sister and I,” Amelia scooped up the mug of chocolate and held it between her hands, “we didn’t know. We thought there were no territory claims in human cities.”
“They’re not the same. Most alphas only hold claim to keep others in line.” Amelia flinched, which led Levi to quickly rephrase. “To keep others from breaking human law, and to guide them toward integration with human culture.”
She nodded, staring into the cooling liquid in front of her.
When she didn’t say anything else, Levi asked, “Where is your sister, Amelia?”
Her silence broke with a devastating sob, chocolate sloshing as she dropped the mug onto the table and covered her face. “I don’t know.”
Now my hands were shaking as I started my notes. This didn’t seem like the kind of case Silver Bullet should be handling. It seemed like a case that should have gone straight to the police.
Levi propped his hands on the table. “When is the last time you saw her?”
“Eight days ago. She never came home after her shift.”
“Have you filed a police report?”
Amelia’s lips curled. “They said she was probably ‘dancing in the moonlight.’”
Judging by the way Levi and Gage stiffened, that wasn’t an inappropriately timed song reference.
“Is there a chance she went on a long run?”
“We never run alone,” she said seriously. “Not since we left our pack in Tennessee.”
So, even shifter women had to use the buddy system.
“Mackenna didn’t report her status to her employer,” Amelia explained. “One of her co-workers found out.”
“Where does she work?” Gage cut in.
“At a slaughterhouse off highway 202.” She gave the name and address.
Gage began typing furiously on his laptop, brow furrowed. I had a million questions sitting on the tip of my tongue and I barely managed to hold them back, waiting for Levi to finish this meeting before he explained to me what “reporting her status” meant.
Levi glanced at Gage’s screen, then back to Amelia, a matching wrinkle in his brow. “How did they find out?”
“He was bothering her. At first it was just crude jokes. Then he started following her after her shift ended. Sometimes I was late to pick her up and she couldn’t get away from him.” That brilliant glow returned, brightening her face in a lethal way. I’d seen Gage’s eyes change a handful of times but never this erratically. “Mackenna is very submissive. Her wolf was frightened, and she lost control.
“She didn’t hurt him, alpha," she swore. “She shifted and she ran. I found her under a dumpster over ten miles away. It took all night to convince her to come out.”
Levi chose his words carefully. “There’s no law against shifting in front of humans. Failing to report, though? At best, they’ll kick you out of the county.”
Kick them out of the county? Since when was King County banishing people?
“But she needed work! We report our status, and they turn us away. I’ve lost four jobs in two months.”
“We’re going to need everything you know about this co-worker.” Levi gestured to my tablet, and I began typing. “When we’re done, I’m going to give you a list of shifter-safe employers in the city. They’ll work with you, but you have to report.”
“If we report, he’ll find us faster,” Amelia whispered.
Power exploded from Levi, filling the room. “If your alpha comes within sixty miles of Seattle, he’ll have me to deal with.”
“But you’re not my alpha.”
“That doesn’t matter. As an alpha it’s my duty to protect all shifters in need, not just my pack.”
“Thank you,” she whimpered, “Thank you.”
It took over an hour to collect all the information Gage needed to begin his investigation. By the time we finished it was nearly evening, with the end of the workday closing in on me. Levi sent Amelia to a diner on his shifter-safe list, telling her to put a meal on his tab and to ask for a job in the kitchen.
Tears were still streaming down her cheeks as she left, and I hoped that some of them were out of relief and not fear for her sister.
I debated with myself as I closed my tablet. I could leave now and beat the sunset by an hour, or I could stay and quiz Levi about the dozen shifter things I didn’t understand. He and Gage were still seated at the conference room table, talking quietly to each other.
This was clearly not a run-of-the-mill security case.
Fortunately, he beat me to the conversation. “Abby, can you stay late?”
“Of course.” I turned my chair, so I was facing him, my eyes temporarily meeting Gage’s over Levi’s shoulder. He slammed his laptop shut, stuffing it into the bag by his seat and focusing on unplugging a series of cables.
“Remember when I told you this job would get unconventional? That’s what I meant.”
“You’re investigating cases the police won’t take?”
“We’re handling cases involving shifters. I’m here as an alpha of my own pack, and as a liaison for our pack in Alaska. Have you heard of the Non-Disclosure Initiative?” Levi noticed my frown and asked, “You really don’t know anything about shifters?”
“I know you have mates, and you turn into animals.” I smiled sheepishly. “I only know what you told me during my orientation, unless you want me to believe everything I read online.”
“No, please don’t believe anything you read online about shifters.” He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, arching his back over the chair to stretch. Gage scowled as Levi’s arm narrowly missed his face. “Shifter lives are complicated because we’re not entirely human in our behavior and we’re not entirely animal. Sometimes we’re at the mercy of our instincts and that makes people believe we’re dangerous.”
To be perfectly honest, I was one of those people that believed it made them dangerous. At least, potentially dangerous. I’d seen enough temper tantrums in my first two weeks to realize the guys could do some serious damage if they ever really lost their cool.
“If we were strictly following those baser instincts, we probably wouldn’t have as many problems. Our packs would all run the same. Our hierarchies would be simplified. Unfortunately, we’re at the mercy of our human emotions too, and as I’m sure you know, not every human emotion is a good one.”
Levi explained the variations on how packs were run, and that Amelia was one of many victims of a bad pack dynamic.
All packs had an alpha, his second in command, and his upper pack. In the Silver Bullet pack that was Levi with Gage as his second, followed by the guys in some dominance order I didn’t recognize.
A good alpha protected his pack with his life. His highest purpose was to see to the greater good of all. Levi made it sound so noble, yet I knew by the way Amelia cowered that it wasn’t always that simple.
“Plenty of alphas mean well,” Levi said. “They create strict rules to keep females from being taken by other packs or to avoid the eyes of humans.”
“Taken by other packs? Please tell me you mean recruited.”
He winced. “I don’t. There are still a lot of purists in the shifter world who don’t believe in hybrid packs or human mating, even if the pair are fated mates.”
I was beginning to feel overwhelmed, but I nodded for Levi to continue, listening as he told me about purist packs and how some alphas treated female shifters.
“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I asked. “There must be human rights groups that could do something about this.”
“Because humans don’t give a damn about what happens to shifters,” Gage answered.
I glanced at him, refusing to dignify that with a response. It occurred to me that this was exactly why Gage hated me. To him, I was just another anti-shifter jerk.
And so, his solution was to be an anti-human jerk?
Levi glared over his shoulder at Gage. “Purists packs are usually Wildling packs.”
I blinked, waiting for more information.
“You don’t know about Wildlings either?” Levi looked surprised.
I shook my head. I’d heard the term while searching online but I never found a clear definition. It seemed to be a cultural thing.
“Wildling packs live the way all shifters used to live, off the radar and usually off the grid. Most of them choose to live in their animal form as often as their human form. It helps them weather the harsher seasons and guarantees food. Most Wildling packs don’t have a consistent source of income.”
Wildling packs were usually close knit, like an extended family, he explained. There were also urban packs, which was more like being a member of a club that met a few times a month.
Then there were hybrid packs, like the one Levi and Gage were born into.
“My family founded the first hybrid pack thirty-five years ago. They offer protection to Wildlings without a pack of their own, a normal life to urban shifters, and allow shifters of any animal type to live harmoniously.” Levi looked to Gage for confirmation. “There are also humans in our pack.”
“A few,” Gage muttered, arms crossed.
“Humans can join a shifter pack?” Levi told me when I started this job that I would be “as good as pack” but that wasn’t the same as being a pack member.
“Humans mated to shifters can.”
I flinched. Gage tensed, rising from his seat, and yanking his bag off the floor.
My face grew hot, teeth clenching as I asked, “Is that very common?”
How many other women were out there, watching their marriage fall apart when a shifter decided their husband was her “fated mate?”
“Gage, you’re a numbers guy.” Levi turned to his retreating brother, waving him away from the doorway. “How often do shifters have human mates?”
“Human and shifter matings are statistically rare,” he grumbled, staring at the wall over my head.
“What about the statistics for fated mates? What are the chances your mate could be a human?”
The tendons in Gage’s neck bulged and he shot daggers at Levi with his gaze. “I don’t have statistics for that.”
“Huh, that’s odd.” Levi shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll get to the point. My alpha in Alaska has created an initiative to end mandatory reporting for shifters. It’s dangerous for us and leads to discrimination.”
“Who do you have to report to, exactly?”
Gage flung his hand in my direction, refusing to look at me. “You should keep her out of this. It’s none of her business what we’re doing here. She can’t help us. She doesn’t even know what mandatory reporting is!”
“But I’m willing to learn!” I fisted my hands on the table. “If this problem with bad packs disproportionately effects female shifters, then you need my help.” It was a bold statement, and I wasn’t entirely confident that it was true, but I had this insane urge to fight Gage.
To physically fight him, even. I wanted to climb across the table and grab him by the shirt.
And for some reason that made the weird metallic butterflies in my stomach ping.
Levi’s interest was piqued. “I’m listening.”
“You guys are kind of scary.” I flicked my eyes to Gage then back to Levi. “And I don’t even pick up on most of the dominance mojo stuff you’re doing. Female shifters running from abusive alphas are going to be terrified to walk into a room with both of you staring them down. It might even keep them from reaching out for help.”
Gage dropped his laptop bag on the table, crossing his arms. He looked like he wanted to argue with me, but he knew I had a point.
“I’m neutral. Not a member of your pack and definitely not in your dominance hierarchy.” Though, Amelia did seem confused by my presence. I hadn’t puzzled that one out yet. “I can be the liaison’s liaison. It won’t be that different from what I’m already doing for the firm.”
“I don’t think—”
“You’re hired!” Levi interrupted whatever retort his brother had finally thought of. “You can do this work during your regular hours and receive your regular pay. I’m here to help but I’m not running a charity, either.”
That startled me. “Do shifters have to pay for your help?”
“No, but I’ve got to pay to keep the lights on, and I know you do too.”
I would if I actually had an electricity bill. Someday soon, hopefully.
“To answer your question, shifters are required to inform employers of what they are. As you heard Amelia explain, this leads to many employers turning shifters away.”
“But isn’t that illegal?”
“Unfortunately, no. I can give you more information on the initiative. It will cover most of your questions. Gage can answer the rest.”
“Unbelievable,” Gage muttered.
“I’ll send out word that all communications with Silver Bullet will go through our new beta female.” Levi smirked at Gage. Everything was a dominance competition between them, to some extent.
“You’re not telling her everything,” Gage said. “If you’re including her in private pack business, then you have to tell her everything.”
I glanced between them. This job was getting stranger by the minute. What else could they possibly tell me?
“Right.” Levi rubbed the back of his neck. “You might get some unusual attention if you take this on.”
“Stop alpha sugar coating everything.” Gage heaved a sigh, crossing and uncrossing his arms. “Just because you’re not dominant doesn’t mean they won’t rank you in their own understanding of the dominance hierarchy. Every time we walk into a room with other shifters, we automatically rank ourselves. If you represent our pack, they’re going to rank you too.”
“Why does that matter?”
“You saw how Amelia basically climbed into your lap? Yeah, you’re going to get a lot of that if Levi introduces you as our beta female.”
“Is that the worst part about taking this on?”
“No,” Levi answered sadly. “The worst part is that you’ll see shifters like Amelia every day and the stories they can tell will keep you up at night.”
It wasn’t his clear, blue eyes that caught mine as he said it. It was Gage’s, his steely grey, hard and assessing. He was always waiting for me to buckle, watching for signs of weakness. I could feel the predator inside him doing the same.
I locked my gaze with his, chin up, feeling confident for the first time in two weeks.
I needed a new purpose. Healing would be impossible without it. Otherwise, I spent every waking moment feeling that fresh pain, pitying myself, hating myself, hating David.
I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself anymore. My past needed to stay in the past, and that would happen when I was looking to the future. Focusing on something meaningful.
This was meaningful.
It was important. Some part of me almost felt like it was my obligation. When Amelia walked into that office today an instinct rose up in me to create sanctuary for her.
I broke my staring contest with Gage, nodding at Levi. “I’m in.”