Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance Read online

  “Hey, guys.” Helena sighed, lying back down in bed. “I was out in the woods, doing some, uh… hiking, when lightning hit that old windmill. I was just…” She paused. “In the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess.”

  A lie. That’s what she had resorted to, because Kate and Julia were mere humans, living in Shandaken. They didn’t have a clue about witchcraft, practitioners, warlocks or anything like that. And Helena wanted it to stay that way. She loved them with all her heart, they’d been friends for almost twenty years, but humans often got too inquisitive for comfort.

  “Talk about bad luck.” Julia murmured, gazing down into her eyes.

  “Actually, I did get lucky.” Helena countered, running her hand through her hair. “I was just thirty, thirty-five feet away from that mill when it all happened. A few feet closer, and…”

  “And you wouldn’t be here talking to us.” Kate finished her sentence. “You picked a hell of a time to go on a hike, darling.” She chuckled, throwing a quick glance over at Julia.

  “What blondie said.” Julia agreed with a nod. “It’s been pouring out there for hours. Why did you go out in this weather?”

  “Okay, okay, it was stupid of me to go out there.” Helena admitted, waves of unease washing over her. “Can we please talk about something else?”

  “Honey, you just had an accident.” Kate uttered, her smile disappearing. “We just wanted to find out what happened to you. Anyway, when are you getting discharged?”

  “I don’t know.” Helena shook her head sideways. “I haven’t talked to any of the doctors yet, but I think I’ll be here for a couple of days.”

  “Any cute ones around here?” Julia wondered, shifting her gaze to the hallway.

  “Jules!” Kate exclaimed, throwing a fierce glare up at her. “Our friend’s in pain, and you’re thinking about flirting? Get a grip, for God’s sake!”

  “Sorry.” Julia muttered, returning her attention to Helena. “Well…” She sighed. “I hope you won’t miss my birthday.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Helena assured, a cunning smile forming on her face. “I’ve been waiting for that for weeks.”

  “We all have.” Kate spoke her mind. “It’s just that her birthday is in four days. I’m not sure if it’d be wise of you to get hammered in your condition.”

  “Relax, Katy.” Helena chuckled, winking up at her. “I won’t get…” She paused. “Too drunk.”

  The three friends burst into loud laughter, their spines flexing and extending. Indeed, Helena had been looking forward to Julia’s birthday for a while. It was one of the few chances of being around them, where she could focus on having fun. Drinks, loud music and dancing didn’t allow her to consider telling them what she was. She could do just about anything with them, except let them into her world…

  Chapter Three

  Michael

  “Get your ass over to the clubhouse. We need to talk.”

  Bruce Peterson’s text the next morning gave Michael cause for concern. His Alpha and leader of their motorcycle club “Wheels Of Fate” had probably found out about the events of last night. It didn’t take much thought to understand why he needed to see him.

  Michael knew the 48-year old biker like the back of his hand. Understanding and mercifulness were not his strong suits. Although the two of them had been getting along since Michael joined the club, he didn’t show him or anyone else any favoritism. They had rules; everyone had to follow them. And their most revered rule had everything to do with Dunston’s warlocks. They had to keep their distance from them, because they were the biggest threat to their kind. More than that, their turfs were separated by Payton, a human town. A potential battle between them could be catastrophic for the future of warlocks and shape shifters alike. They would be viewed as freaks of nature, monsters that didn’t belong in a world dominated by the human race.

  Rolling on the throttle of his black, 1200 Custom, Michael rode along the uphill road that led to their clubhouse. Still, the sight that greeted him somewhat relieved his tension. Four motorcycles had been parked outside the small building, and two more of his comrades passed him by, the noise of their thunder headers stifling his own. The one on his right was none other than Ray. His red Seventy Two rolled through a puddle, its wheels splashing water across the road. He turned left and into the driveway, before looking in his direction.

  It became clear to Michael that this wasn’t a private meeting between him and his Alpha. Yet, that didn’t help him make him feel any better. Nothing would stop Bruce from mentioning his actions and humiliating him.

  His ears were still buzzing from the noise of the engine, when he entered the driveway.

  “Morning.” He told them, putting down the kickstand with the toe of his boot.

  “Gibson!” Johnnie grinned from ear to ear, his arms wide open. “Hey, I heard about last night. Too bad I wasn’t close enough to take a picture of that hot piece of ass. Let me guess. You kids were in the mill, you tried to bang her, she said ‘no’ and blew it up.”

  “Knock it off, Johnnie.” Michael groaned, taking a step closer to him. "And ‘close enough’? What the hell do you mean?”

  “I was over in Shandaken when I heard you howl.” He explained, his smile staying on. “I thought you were in trouble or something. I grabbed my bike and rode like hell, until I saw Ray’s van down the road. That’s when I realized you were just fine. But, I was curious. I mean, what was he doing down there? I pulled over before the bend; I saw you carrying Dunston’s daughter.”

  “Boys, come on in.” Bruce’s hoarse voice drew Michael’s attention. There he was, standing under the doorframe, wearing his usual, stiff expression.

  But, before anyone could take a single step, something else distracted them. A black limousine turned right and into their neighborhood, causing them to stare at it in disbelief. Only one person in the Catskills could afford such luxury: The lumber baron by the name of Frank Dunston. He hadn’t ventured into Mercer for years, due to the hostility between his kind and shifters.

  “Shit.” Michael spoke through gritted teeth, his stomach chilling with fear. What was their enemy doing in their town? Did he mean to remind them that they shouldn’t interact with warlocks, or was it something else?”

  The fancy car rolled to a halt on the right side of the road as Bruce shuffled past Michael. He stopped just a few feet in front of him and put his hands on his waist, while his fellow bikers looked at each other in confusion. Dunston’s driver opened his rear left door, turning Michael’s surprise into discomfort. A wizard like him couldn’t open his own door? But then again, he was no ordinary wizard. He was rich enough to buy pretty much everything in a fifty-mile radius. Dunston stepped outside; his black moccasins shined to perfection.

  “Good morning.” He tipped his head down in a polite gesture, his confident footsteps closing the distance between him and Bruce.

  “Morning.” The Alpha murmured. “It’s been a long time since you last showed your face around here.”

  “And I doubt you will ever see me again in your town.” Dunston stated, focusing his gaze on Michael. “Mr. Gibson, I’m grateful to you. You saved my daughter’s life last night. Thank you. Thank you very much.” He added, offering his hand for a handshake.

  Michael bit his lower lip, not knowing how to react to his kind words. Still, his indecision was short-lived. The warlock wasn’t there to pick up a fight with them. He’d never do that in broad daylight. He reached out and shook his hand, keeping his mouth shut.

  “Good day.” Dunston nodded and turned around. He walked past Bruce in total silence and returned to his limousine. Ray breathed a sigh of relief as their Alpha broke into hearty laughter. He gestured towards the open door of the clubhouse, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “Oooh, that had to hurt, man!” Johnnie chuckled, patting Michael on the back, the roaring laughter of his comrades filling his ears. Walking in, he looked up at the numerous motorcycle posters on the wall, glad t
hat taking Helena to hospital didn’t put him in trouble.

  “Sit down.” Bruce urged as they strutted into the backroom.

  “We’re heading over to ‘Kenny’s’ after this.” Johnnie gave Michael an elbow jab. “Your drinks are on me.”

  “Gibson…” Bruce started, leaning his hands on the table. “You just made my day. I was just about to punish your ass, but…” He let out another laugh. “Fuck it. If any of you can make that son of a bitch come back here and thank us, go ahead. I’d love to see that look on his face again.”

  “Yeah, baby!” Johnnie cheered, rhythmically banging his fist on the table.

  “Okay, enough of this.” Bruce assumed a more serious tone. “Boys, how are your finances these days?” His question acted like a call back to reality. In an instant, the whole room went silent. Everybody’s smile was wiped right off their face. The club’s only source of income was the workshop next to the clubhouse. People don’t ride motorcycles in the winter, especially in the mountains. “That’s what I thought. Look, the way I see it, we’ve only got one option. Robbery.”

  “I’m all for that.” Michael spoke his mind, leaning forward. “The question is ‘who do we rob?’”

  Bruce sucked in a deep breath. “We need something big.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Ray posed a question, pitching his voice higher.

  “Well, not another Bank of America.” Bruce declared, referring to a heist they’d pulled off a year ago. “We got, what, a hundred-and-sixty grand? It’s got to be a lot more than that. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of sitting on my ass in winter. We need to branch out into car repair.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Michael commented, flashing him a glance of appraisal. “It’ll keep us busy all year round.”

  “Exactly.” Bruce gave an emphatic nod. “I’ve already asked a few dealers about the cost. I’m not talking about the usual crap. I’m talking about state-of-the-art equipment. Car elevators, automatic car wash, diagnostic systems, the works. It’s three point two million.”

  “Fuck!” Ray banged his head in a spasm of frustration.

  “That’s a lot of money.” Michael whistled at the amount.

  “That’s why I told you we need something big.” Bruce added. “We took a huge chance down in Brooklyn last year. And the reward sucked, too. It’s got to be somewhere more private this time. Have any of you guys been to North Haven?”

  “Yeah.” Michael said with a nod. “There’s a lot of rich folks down there. I think it fits the bill.”

  “We’re not going to rob an actor or a singer, Gibson.” Bruce pointed out. “We’re still robbing a bank; a bank vault. I’ve been waiting for my guy to get me the blueprints of all the branches in the area. Let’s vote it. Yea or nay?”

  To Michael, this was a no-brainer. It was impossible for him to get by with the few dollars he made in that workshop. And his friends seemed to share his view. All ten members of the club raised their hands in the air.

  “Good.” Bruce nodded in contentment. “I’ll let you know more when I get those blueprints.”

  Michael arose to his impressive, 6’3” stature, the words of his Alpha offering him a sense of hope for the future. He didn’t mind being an outlaw. He was trying to survive in a world full of hardships and injustice. Stealing every now and then was acceptable. Bruce’s plan, although very dangerous indeed, would ensure a better life for all of them. That risk didn’t matter to him. He had been worrying about far stronger and devious things than police officers all his life...

  Chapter Four

  Michael

  Four days later, Michael was feeling like a kid at the playground. After work, he took the old Harley out for wild rides in the narrow roads of the Catskills. To his satisfaction, the weather didn’t ruin his plans. Yes, it might have been cold, but the son of the mountain had been used to it. What he did worry about was rain and snow. They turned the roads into deathtraps, even for a shifter like him. His faster reflexes, his enormous strength and his quick healing would not avail him at all if his body was broken.

  Still, the temperature did have an effect on him. He couldn’t ride for more than thirty or forty minutes at a time. Feeling the freezing cold in his bones, he had to stop at a friend’s house every now and again. Unfortunately, Michael had to forget about riding all the way to New York. It was just too far. It wasn’t the city that he was interested in. It was much too dirty, loud and noisy for him. He had been dreaming about visiting the Hudson River ever since he was sixteen. Back then, his parents had taken him to the Big Apple to show him what human cities were like. And though he hated that day because cars and exhaust fumes tortured his senses, the majestic river in February was wonderful to behold from Hudson River Park. In the summer, its piers were packed with people. Going anywhere near them didn’t differ much from a stroll in the downtown area. However, the situation was much different in the winter. Almost no one was around, allowing him to enjoy the peace and tranquility of the river.

  That Saturday night, he and Ray rode through Shandaken, the last human town before the mountain of their forefathers. Legend had it that man and wolf merged on Constantine’s Peak, the hill that overlooked the entire valley. Nonetheless, as they cleared the last cabin, they were in for a major surprise. There were endless rows of parked cars on either side of the road. It wasn’t unprecedented for them to see a few cars near “Purple Rock”, the bar up the street, but this was far bigger than anything else they had witnessed.

  Puzzled, Michael continued onwards, with Ray following right behind him. He was still more than a hundred yards away from the building, when his ears picked up cheers and girly screams, along with upbeat music. The light in the bar was dim blue, adding to his curiosity. Scooting his motorcycle closer to the entrance, he looked inside. Three women stood out from the crowd: A blonde, a brunette and a redhead. Several men had gathered around them, cheering them on as they downed shots. A wave of frustration hit him like a wave splashing around a rock. He could still recall the tendrils of that curly, red hair in the mud. Apparently, Helena Dunston had made a full recovery, and was enjoying herself with her friends.

  “Let’s get fuck out of here,” he said to Ray as he pulled up beside him. “Dunston’s daughter’s in there.”

  “I’m not going home yet, man,” Ray disagreed, switching off the engine. “Just one drink. Come on.”

  “Go ahead,” Michael encouraged. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Whatever,” Ray puffed air out of his cheeks. Under any other circumstances, Michael would love to have a drink with him. However, with Helena in that bar, he wouldn’t take his chances.

  Striding away from his Harley, he scanned the interior once more. She was just behind the glass facade, her side turned to him. She wore a tight, green dress, matching heels and black pantyhose. The curves in her 5’6” body could turn quite a few heads. His inner wolf purred at the sexy sight, urging him to forget who she was. Yet, the wolf wasn’t in charge. He was guided by instinct, and that instinct wasn’t always correct. Helena was considered untouchable. Forbidden. The face of evil.

  “But how evil can look so good?”

  That question popped into his mind as he turned the corner of the bar. He had no idea how to answer it. He just knew that even interacting with her would not go down well with his Alpha nor her father.

  Michael strolled along the side of the building, without chancing another glance in. Reaching the backyard, he folded his arms across his chest and gazed out at the view. Hundreds of town lights were flickering in the distance. Beams of lush moonlight illuminated the valley and the snowy slopes of Tiger Mountain Peak beyond it. The night was clear, a rarity for Shandaken in February. More often or not, it was plagued by thunderstorms and all kinds of bad weather, but that wasn’t the case that Saturday. In truth, it seemed more like a summer night. Michael buried his nose in his coat, savoring the view.

  “Where is he?”

  A squeaky voice snapp
ed him out of his thoughts.

  “Please, please, tell me.”

  The same voice rang in his ears, bringing back the frustration he felt just minutes ago. He had lingered there too long. He couldn’t tell who it belonged to, but he had to leave that place as soon as possible. Still, the sound of the back door being yanked open prevented him from moving a muscle. Michael squeezed his eyes shut, the noise from inside tormenting his ears. As he opened them again though, he wished he had ignored Ray and gone back home. Helena was standing on the top landing of the small staircase, looking right at him.

  “There you are.” She spoke in a drowsy voice, her thick lips curving into a big smile. “I saw your friend in there.” She added, walking down the stairs.

  “Go back inside, girl.” Michael said, his voice bass-deep. “I’m getting out of here anyway.”

  “Not yet.” She chirped, making her way towards him, her flowery scent rushing back into his nostrils. “Listen, uh…” She faltered. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you for what you did for me the other day. I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  The smell of alcohol spoiled her scent, long before she had finished her sentence.

  “Okay, you did it.” Michael nodded, staring down into her green eyes. “Now get back inside.”

  “What’s your rush, Mr. Wolf?” Helena giggled, stopping in front of him. “You don’t think I’m going to hurt you, do you?”

  “You’re too drunk to even hurt a bug.” He scolded, pursing his lips. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  “Yes, sir!” She laughed, leaning closer. “I’m turning twenty-two in August.”

  Michael parted his lips, ready to yell at her, but, just then, someone else walked out of the bar and hopped down the staircase. A tall, stocky man approached Helena from behind, the stiff look on his face annoying Michael. And that expression wasn’t the only thing that bothered him. Testosterone was oozing from every pore of his body, telling him precisely what he was after.