A Shifter's Curse - Raven Steele (best e reader for epub .txt) 📗

"I grew up here."

I leaned toward him and heard his breathing pick up. "You like it here?"

He paused throwing the shot back and stared behind me as if seeing another time. "Sometimes I think about leaving, but my past is too tied to this place. I think it would follow me if I went anywhere else."

"Pasts are shady that way. What's your name?"

"Ryder." He lowered his gaze to the empty shot glass.

"Ryder what?"

"Ryder Liekos." He looked up at me expectantly, as if I should have some sort of a reaction to his name.

"What?"

"You haven't heard of me?"

"Why would I?" I slid another drink to him.

He drank it down and began talking. "My family is kind of a big deal here. My dad owns a lot of property and businesses. He even shares some business with the Morgans."

Again, he looked at me as if I should know who he was talking about. "You really have no idea who the Morgans or the Liekos’ are?"

"I'm new in town, but why don't you tell me." I handed him another drink and leaned over the bar, showing him my generous cleavage. I was glad I'd worn my skimpiest tank top.

His gaze met them for a moment, then he threw back his drink. Judging by the glaze in his eyes and the empty bottles next to him, I would've cut him off by now, if he were human. But wolves can drink a hell of a lot more. Besides, I wanted him to talk.

"The two families have been running Rouen for decades. The Liekos' are a well-known sh—" he stopped himself and frowned, realizing he was about to say something he probably shouldn't. I couldn't have him clamming up on me.

"Shifter family?" I finished for him.

His pretty eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"

I leaned over the bar and whispered close to his ear. "I'm a shifter wolf."

He reared back. "No way! I would never have guessed! How do you do that?"

"Bartender chick!" someone shouted impatiently.

I held out my finger to the man and poured Ryder three more drinks, giving him a reason to stay. "On the house." I'd take it out of my tips later. Couldn’t have the boss-man pissed off.

Then I turned toward Mr. Impatient and winked. "What can I pour for you?"

Once he was happily drinking his lite beer, I made my way around the rest of the bar, making sure everyone else was liquored up. After counting off enough satisfied smiles, I returned to Ryder.

"So you were saying, the Liekos’ are a shifter family, but what about the Morgans?"

He stared at me for a moment, then the liberally served alcohol worked its magic. "They're powerful witches. No one messes with them. They can do just about anything with magic." He visibly shivered. "Both families demand loyalty. Even having your own opinion is seen as traitorous."

Pain created deep lines in his forehead; it was a familiar look. I instantly warmed to him and placed my hand over his. "I'm sorry. Life can be a real bitch sometimes."

He nodded solemnly.

"So tell me, what pack does your family belong to?"

His eyes widened in fear, and he blurted, "Don't join."

I stared at him, surprised. "I wasn't planning on it. Just curious."

"My family are with the Greybacks, but I'm not a member."

Two packs in Rouen? Interesting. It was rare for more than one dominant pack to inhabit the same city, especially if they were as powerful as the Silver Claws seemed. "Why not?"

"Long story." He tipped back another shot, his expression darkening. "I belong to the other pack in town, the Silver Claws."

As much as I wanted to hear what was sure to be a dark tale, I had to stay on track. "What's the name of your Alpha?"

His face soured as if his last swallow of alcohol was too bitter. "Dominic."

My heart pounded so fast and sudden, a sharp pain shot through my body. I sucked in a breath and gripped the edge of the bar, trying to control the bloodthirsty growl threatening to spill from my mouth. Good thing Ryder was drunk, or he'd have noticed my reaction instantly.

"Is he a good Alpha?" I ground the words through my gritted teeth.

He met my gaze, his eyes intense. "Listen, I don't know what brought you to Rouen, but this city isn't safe, especially for a female shifter who doesn't have a pack. You should leave."

I tried to act casual, but the truth spilled out. "I wish I could. But thanks for the warning."

He studied me, and for a brief moment his gaze softened as he saw a glimpse of the pain I carried with me daily. I know he saw it because I also caught a glimpse of his. Somehow, we were similar in many ways.

I quickly shook my head and forced my body to relax. No bonding allowed. I had a job to do.

"Thanks for the drinks," he said, "but I gotta run." Sliding off the stool, he stood up, swaying slightly. He stuffed his hands into his jeans’ pockets and flashed me one more saddened look. "See you around."

I nodded a goodbye and distracted myself by washing off the counter. I wondered if his path in life was set from a young age, just as mine was. I frowned, trying not to worry about him too much. If I began to care, that might get me in trouble when it came time to smash heads.

The Silver Claws were definitely trouble. One of their own members wasn't happy and that was never good. An unhappy member becomes a danger to the pack, my father used to say.

The night progressed slowly after that. I attempted to speak to other shifters, but none of them were as loose-lipped as Ryder. I made a mental note to befriend him if I saw him again; he might make a good ally down the road. My shift had almost ended and with the late hour, the crowd had begun to thin.

Eddie came over to me. "You did well tonight. Before you leave, make sure to complete that paperwork. My business has to be perfect."

"Jeez. Is the mob running city council or something?" I wiped at a spill on the counter.

His face darkened. "Or something. Just do it."

"Sure, no prob—" A familiar scent alerted all my senses, and I straightened.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh." I searched the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribcage. "Can I get off a few minutes early?"

"I don't see why not."

I was already untying my apron and stepping out of the bar, afraid I would lose him again. Silas was in the bar. I could smell him like week-old leftovers.

Maneuvering around the remaining customers, I headed toward the back of the club, following the strong scent of hot dogs masked with cheap pine-smelling cologne. You could dress up a dog, but that didn't change the fact that he was a murderer with cheap taste.

I stepped behind a couple dancing, scanning the crowd. Where was he? I squinted into the flashing lights illuminating splashes of people every few seconds.

Then my racing heart stopped. Cold.

Silas was there again, stiff cane in hand and talking in the shadows with a tall and broad-shouldered shifter. I only needed to see this new shifter's profile to know who it was. The bastard who lead the slaughter against my family: Dominic De'Angelo.