Blackstone Ranger Rogue: Chapter One and Two

Blackstone Ranger Rogue: Chapter One and Two

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Chapter One

Darcey Wednesday sighed as she watched the happy couple dance to the slow, romantic song playing over the speakers. The ballroom of The Blackstone Grand Hotel was decorated beautifully, setting up a fairy-tale-like background for the bride and groom.

Really, she was ecstatic for Daniel and Sarah. If anyone deserved to live happily ever after, it was her sister. Ever since they met at that god-awful foster home, Sarah had taken care of her and their other adopted sibling, Adam. For over twelve years, Sarah had been like their mother, father, protector, and caregiver all in one. She could have abandoned them when she turned eighteen and was no longer the responsibility of the state, but she didn’t. Sarah worked her ass off to get them out of a terrible situation and provide for them all these years.

And now, Sarah had the love of her life, Daniel Rogers, to take care of her. And Darcey would never begrudge her sister happiness.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel a pang of envy, watching them stare into each other’s eyes, holding each other, dancing together. They were two bodies, but one soul. Fated, bonded mates.

Someone jostled her from behind, and she turned her head. It was one of the waiters carrying a tray of champagne as he walked away from her.

A fluttering in her chest distracted her for a moment.

Mine?

She shook her head and smiled sadly.

The fluttering slowed to a weak flapping before it stopped.

Another sigh escaped her lips. She was used to the familiar flutter and the voice in her head. After all, she was a shifter, and for as long as she could remember, had always shared her body with her inner animal. It never bothered her, that she was different. In fact, she wondered what it was like for humans like Sarah and Adam. What was it like to constantly be alone in their thoughts? To not have an inner companion? To not have to struggle to keep it under control?

Yes, most of her life, she’d lived around humans, from the Nevada orphanage where she’d spent the first nine years of her life, to the various foster homes she was shuttled around in until she met Sarah and Adam. Still, it wasn’t something she thought about every day—that was just her life. Sure, she’d met a few shifters over the years. When she came close to any of them, she always just knew if they were like her. Like a feeling she couldn’t describe but a truth she just knew.

Now, here she was, in Blackstone, Colorado, surrounded by other shifters. Hundreds of them. The moment she stepped foot in this town, she knew this place was way different from Las Vegas where she’d lived all her life. Soon, she would be living here full time, too, and opening the first ever brick and mortar shop of Silk, Lace, and Whispers, the online lingerie store she ran with Sarah.

It was exciting, for sure, and she was grateful that Daniel had invited her to live with them in his house. She and Adam would be occupying two of the bedrooms on the first floor. She would be surrounded by her family—old and new, which included Daniel’s parents who she was already growing to love—and would be living in a town where everyone was like her.

But she still felt alone. Like there was something out there she was constantly searching for. Like something was missing.

Maybe it was because she wasn’t like other shifters here. Her new brother-in-law was a bear, as was his boss, Damon Cooper, whom she met earlier today. His other coworkers in the Blackstone Rangers were wolves, lions, deer, foxes, and of course, she had heard about the Blackstone dragons who protected the town.

But her? She was no apex predator. In fact, she wasn’t any kind of predator. Rather, she was the most docile, harmless creature one could imagine—a swan.

She had only been a few days old when she appeared at the doorstep of the St. Margaret Orphanage. The nuns had no idea what she was and had been just as surprised as her when a few years later, she was in the middle of a fight with another kid and poof—disappeared under the pile of clothes on the floor. Panicked, she had dashed into the bathroom and saw her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked like a fluffy gray duck. Yes, as cliched as it sounded—an ugly little duckling. But later on, as she matured, her true form emerged. The ugly duckling turned into a beautiful swan.

Kinda, anyway.

But surely there were other non-predatory shifters around here, right? A raccoon or squirrel, or maybe even other avian shifters?

The music shifted into something more cheerful, jarring her out of her thoughts. Daniel released Sarah and stepped back, then led her into the beginning steps of an old-fashioned swing dance. The crowd cheered and clapped as the couple spun around the dance floor.

“They’re so happy, it’s disgusting.”

Darcey suppressed a smile at the familiar voice. “Disgusting, huh?” she said to her younger brother, Adam, who had popped up beside her in his brand-new motorized wheelchair.

“Yeah.” His mouth twisted. “I don’t see the big deal with being in love anyway. People can be happy on their own, you know?”

At first, she thought her brother was being his usual sarcastic teen self. But when he looked up at her with those big green eyes, she saw a flash of something that made her heart twitch. It was sympathy.

Aside from the couple themselves, no one was happier about Daniel and Sarah getting together than Adam was. He practically worshiped his new big brother and was thrilled about leaving Nevada to live here. But Adam was not only smart for his sixteen years, but also emotionally mature. She knew he was trying to suppress his happiness because of her. He didn’t want her to feel bad that Sarah had Daniel, while Darcey remained single.

As far as she knew, Sarah had never dated seriously nor had any long-term boyfriends. In fact, except for two or three guys she’d dated exclusively for a few months and handful of dates over the years, Sarah had been contentedly single, devoting all her time to raising and providing for her and Adam.

She, on the other hand, tended to flit from one relationship to another, with disastrous results. Whenever a guy paid even a modicum of attention on her, she went all in, focusing her time and energy to making the “relationship” work, bending over backward to please him. But none of that mattered because they all ended the same—with her alone and her heart broken.

She was like a big jerk magnet, attracting only the worst men. They seemed nice enough at first, but they more often than not turned into assholes who either ghosted her or stuck around long enough to take advantage of her, whether financially or emotionally. Eventually, she would end up crying and swearing off relationships. But sure enough, a new guy would come along, and well … her relationship status had more cycles than the Tour de France.

Her swan shook its head sadly.

Mine?

Sure, she could blame it all on her animal side. Weren’t swans known for their fidelity, their propensity to mate for life? It seemed like it asked that question—mine?—whenever she met a new guy or was near any potential boyfriend. And Darcey was sure each one was “the one,” and when it turned out he wasn’t, her swan would peck and nag at her to keep looking.

But still, she couldn’t help herself. She just wanted to be loved. Was that so bad?

“Sure, people can be content on their own,” she said, repeating Adam’s words, then placed a hand on his shoulder. “But we can also be happy for them without feeling like we’re less for not having what they have.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze, then smiled down at him. He smirked back at her in that way only teenagers can, and she chuckled.

Back on the dance floor, the music faded out, and Daniel dipped Sarah low and kissed her, much to the delight of the spectators.

“C’mon,” she said. “I haven’t talked to them the whole night. Let’s go say hi.” She hurried past all the other guests, who made way for them as they made a beeline for the couple. “Daniel, Sarah! That was a great dance set. I didn’t even know you were going to do that.”

Daniel flashed her a smile that reached all the way to his bright silvery blue eyes. Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, Darce. Are you having fun?”

That feeling came over her as she sensed his bear. She wasn’t frightened or anything. In fact, his animal’s presence felt familial and protective. “Everyone’s been great and … it’s weird being around so many people like me.” He didn’t ask about how she felt being surrounded by other shifters, but she could just tell it was on his mind.

“That’s great, Darce, and how’s the move?”

When he had asked her to come live with them in Blackstone, the choice was easy. She wasn’t really attached to Las Vegas, plus, with their online sales skyrocketing, she and Sarah realized they could open their shop here instead of their original plan of starting it in Summerlin, not to mention, quit her old crappy retail job. The day she’d handed in her notice to her awful boss Agnes was one of the happiest in her life. “One more trip back to Vegas in the morning and I’m done.” All she had to do was pick up the last of their stuff at their old apartment, hand in the keys to the landlord, and drive back.

“Thank God,” Adam groaned. “I’m so glad to be out of that town.”

“Looking forward to the fall?” Daniel asked. Adam was set to start school at the local high school, one that Daniel himself had attended.

“Yeah, yeah,” the teen said. “Ugh, can I go back up to the suite now? This party’s so boring and everyone’s so old.”

Sarah chuckled. “All right. Go on ahead.”

“Later,” he said as he drove away.

“Go straight to the room!” Sarah called out. “And don’t even think about going through the mini bar!” But Adam only answered with a dismissive wave.

Daniel turned to her. “Do you want to dance, Darcey?”

It was really sweet of him to ask, and she was about to say yes when the fluttering in her chest came back.

Mine?

“Um, maybe later?” She wrinkled her nose. A strange tingling came over her as her swan beat its wings madly in her chest.

Mine?

“I think … I think I need to go somewhere …”

Her feet took her away from the dance floor like they had a life of their own. The flapping of wings inside her was so loud, the noise and music around her faded away. Her swan frantically swung its head side to side as if searching for something. Feeling her swan’s frenetic energy, she had no choice but be swept away by its whim, and she dashed across the ballroom, sidestepping other guests.

Mine?

Her vision tunneled, focusing on a pinpoint, leading her toward the bar. There were several people there, but one particular person caught her attention despite the fact that his back was to her and she could only make out dark hair and broad shoulders. Her hand reached out and tapped him on the arm. “Excuse me,” she breathed out.

Slowly, he turned around. His dark head was bowed, his gaze going immediately to the exposed cleavage of her low-cut dress. “Hey, sweetheart.” A smile spread across his lips as his head slowly tilted up. “What can I do for—”

Mine!

“—you?”

Light golden-brown eyes stared right into her, sending electricity across her skin as she heard something from deep within him answer back: Mine.

“Yes,” she gasped. “It’s me.” Her swan squawked animatedly. This was it. It was him.

When she heard that Sarah and Daniel were mates, she almost didn’t believe it. Growing up, with no one to explain to her what being a shifter was all about, she could only do her own research on the Internet, and even then, the information was not really accurate or scientific.

But she had heard about mates—that fate paired shifters with someone they were intended to be with and that only those with animals inside them would be able to tell who their mate was.

She mentally slapped her forehead. God, she was so dumb. Her swan was looking, looking, looking all the time. Trying to find him in all those guys she dated. Asking that question—mine?—and never getting an answer back because they were all wrong.

But now, he was here. Even though she didn’t realize that she was looking for him, she knew it: He was the one she had been searching for.

And, oh dear, he was breathtaking. He was tall, a couple of inches over six feet with a lean, graceful build. He wasn’t overly hulking like Daniel or many of the shifters here, but his shoulders were broad, and his biceps strained against his shirt. He was handsome, too, with firm lips and a chiseled, clean-shaven jaw, but what she couldn’t tear her gaze away from was his eyes. They were the color of molten honey, and she wanted to lose herself in them.

Joy burst through her, making her heart leap out of her chest. She couldn’t stop the smile on her face, even if she’d wanted to. Looking up at him, she could see the shock register on his face as his eyes widened and his jaw slackened.

“Yo, Anders!” someone called from behind. “You joining us?”

He didn’t answer, just kept staring at her. Darcey couldn’t move either. His companion peeked from behind him, said something, then shrugged and walked away.

Time ticked by, with neither of them saying anything or moving. Finally, she managed a breath and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him. Oh God, he smelled so good. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I’d find you.”

He tensed in her arms, and something in her brain got through the blissful cloud surrounding her. Frowning, she released him and stepped back. “Your name is Anders? I’m Darcey. Darcey Wednesday. I’m your—”

“I know who you are.”

Of course he did. This actually made it easier. Sarah had told her that although Daniel had known instantly she was his mate, she didn’t know because she was human, and that had caused some problems between them initially. “Great. So … do you want to, like, go somewhere to talk? Or you can meet my family?”

His nostrils flared, and his jaw hardened. “No, I don’t think so.”

Oh God, she sounded stupid. Maybe they were supposed to do something else? “Oh. Okay. What do you want to do, then?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Listen, Daisy—”

“Darcey,” she corrected. Her swan pecked its beak toward him irritably.

“Yeah. Okay. I don’t do relationships.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You seem like a sweet girl, Darla. But I’m not the one for you.”

Was he joking? “B-but I heard it. My animal said it. And yours—”

“Be that as it may, this just isn’t going to work out, Dolly.”

“But we’re—”

“I like what I see, though.” His voice dipped low, and he lifted his hand, tracing a finger over her arm, up to her shoulder and collarbone, then followed the vee of her dress down her chest.

Warmth spread through her as she closed her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning when his knuckles brushed the tops of her breasts.

“You’re pretty enough, and I’m not picky. Wanna go meet me in the janitor’s closet for a quick screw? This party’s getting boring anyway.”

His words slammed into her, making her eyes snap open. “A-a quick screw? That’s what you want?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pulled his hand away. “But it won’t mean anything. If you’re looking for someone to take you on romantic dates and whisper sweet nothings and live happily ever after with, then go find someone else. I prefer my lays with no strings attached.”

This wasn’t happening. Surely this was some kind of joke. “I … I don’t believe you. You don’t mean what you’re saying.” He must have felt it too. She heard his animal roar it out. What was he anyway?

A vision flashed in her head. Something big with large teeth and sharp claws. Stripes and fur and—

He let out a sardonic laugh. “I meant every word, sweetheart.” The endearment dripped with acid. “If you don’t want to get hurt, stay away from me.” Turning on his heel, he put the glass in his hand back on the bar and walked away.

She stood there, frozen. Afraid to make a sound. Afraid to make a move. She was still as a statue, calm as a millpond on the outside.

But inside, a storm of emotions churned. Her swan cried out in distress, not knowing what was happening. The only thing it could focus on was that he—their mate—was walking away from them.

Her chest began to ache something fierce. It started small at first, like a tiny hairline crack along the edges of an icy river. But then it began to expand and grow until it felt like something inside her split apart. Tears sprung in her eyes and the only thing she knew right now was that she had to get out of there. Before she had a full-on break down.

Somehow, she managed to pry her feet from where they were stuck to the ground and began to walk. One foot in front of the other. No one was paying any mind to her as they laughed and danced and drank like there was nothing wrong in the world. She nearly made it out when she halted right by the exit. Her swan begged her to go back. To find their mate and make him see. Make him listen.

“He doesn’t want us,” she whispered.

“Darce?” It was Sarah. Her sister’s hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around. “What’s the—” Sarah sucked in a breath. “Are you crying?”

Her hands automatically brushed the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Nothing,” she cried. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing.” Sarah’s brown eyes blazed as she gripped both her arms. “What’s the matter? Tell me why you’re crying.”

“Did someone hurt you?” Daniel said in a menacing tone. “Tell me.”

The outrage from Daniel’s inner bear made her jump. She didn’t even realize he was right there too. Because of course he was. He would be beside Sarah for the rest of their lives. He would never leave her or tell her to stay away.

“No. Not intentionally,” she whispered. How could she even begin to explain it? “At least I don’t think so … I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m gonna go to my room. I just need to be alone for a bit.” Shrugging off Sarah’s grasp, she turned and sprang toward the elevators. Frantically, she tapped on the call button, waiting for the doors to open and darted inside as soon as the car arrived. However, as the doors were about to close, she saw Sarah running toward her.

“Stop!” Her sister made it just in time to slip her fingers between the doors. Stepping inside, she took Darcey by the shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head. Her throat burned so bad that she was scared to speak.

“Darce.” Sarah’s tone was firmer now. “You know I’m going to hound you until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m going to stay here and miss my entire reception if I have to, but I won’t leave until I find out who hurt you and make them pay. Please.”

Slowly, she lifted her head and stared up at her sister’s face. They weren’t biological sisters, not even close. But they were sisters of the heart, bound together by the vow they made the day they met at that miserable foster home. It was the first time she ever felt real love, and maybe the last.

“Oh, Sarah,” she cried, then burst into tears.

“Darce. Oh no.” Sarah’s arms wound around her. “C’mon, let’s go to your room.”

Thank goodness Sarah was there, because otherwise, Darcey wouldn’t have known how to get back to her room. Once they were inside, her sister sat her down on the bed, got a cold, wet towel from the bathroom and pressed it to her face, all the while soothing her as she cried.

When the tears finally slowed down, Sarah took her hand in hers. “Now tell me what happened.”

Sarah always made her feel safe, so Darcey told her everything. Every single, humiliating detail of that short conversation with her mate. It was obvious her sister was outraged, and Darcey would always be grateful for the fact that she had her back all this time.

“Who was it?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know … never met him before. Though someone called him Anders.”

Sarah’s face completely changed from sympathetic to pure, deep anger. “A-Anders? Anders Stevens is your mate?”

She sniffed. “I didn’t get his last name. But how many Anders could there be?”

Her sister shot to her feet, hands fisting at her sides. “For his sake, it better be another Anders who made you cry.” She bared her teeth. “I don’t care if he’s Daniel’s friend or that he can turn into a tiger, I’m going to kill that motherfucker!”

“Sarah, no!” Her inner swan protested too. “I mean … please don’t make a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” she said incredulously. “Saying all those things to you … even if he wasn’t your mate, I would still kick his ass.”

“Sarah …” Grabbing her arm, she dragged her sister back down next to her. “Please … I just want to forget this night ever happened.”

“Oh, sweetie …” Sarah put an arm around her and pulled her close. “It’ll be all right. You’ll be all right.”

Would she? But instead of saying that, she nodded. “You’re right. Just … just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Sarah hesitated. “I won’t tell just anyone. But Daniel … I can’t keep this from him.”

“I …” She bit her lip. Sarah was right, of course. Daniel was her mate. If she kept things from him, he would probably be hurt. “All right, but he won’t tell anyone else, right? Not even Adam?”

“No, he won’t, I promise.”

She let out a relieved sigh, though the tightness in her chest did not go away. “Thank you, Sarah. For being here.”

“Of course. I love you, Darce. I’ll be here for you anytime.”

Slumping over, she buried her face in Sarah’s shoulder. “Love you, too, Sarah.”

***

Darcey was glad she had to go back to Las Vegas the next day. The half-day drive would be a good distraction. Of course, Sarah insisted on coming along with her. Though she protested because it was a day after the reception, her sister insisted and said Daniel was okay with it. She didn’t ask her what her husband’s reaction was to what happened last night, but knowing how protective Daniel was, he probably wasn’t happy about it. But Sarah assured her that Daniel wouldn’t say anything to anyone.

The trip to Vegas and back was uneventful, and Sarah did her best to cheer her up during their road trip. Truthfully, it did work. At least for the human part of her. Her brain was telling her that she had only met the guy for five seconds, and moping after a rejection that fast was pathetic, even for her.

But her swan … it was inconsolable. It pined and cried and hung its long graceful neck low, like it was legitimately sick. Maybe it was, because there were times when Darcey herself wanted to throw up. Other times, she was just genuinely sick of feeling sick. But she didn’t know what to do.

Now, here she was, a week later, in her bed alone on a Saturday morning, and the moment she opened her eyes, all she wanted to do was go back to blissful sleep.

“Get up!”

“What? I—hey!” The covers flew off her. “I—Sarah?”

Her sister stood at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips. “You’re done with this shit.”

She sat up. “I am?”

Sarah nodded. “It’s been a week since the reception. You can’t sit around moping all day—”

“I am not moping,” she protested. “Besides, I’ve been to the shop with you every day, getting the store ready, doing inventory—”

“You’re there, physically,” Sarah said. “But you’re not there, there. I’m not blind, Darce.” With a deep sigh, she sat down on the mattress. “You’re in pain. I can feel it.”

“Just leave me alone, Sarah,” she said, plopping back on the pillows. “I’ll get through this, I always do.” Her swan let out a pathetic meep and shook its wings.

“I know you will. But I’m not going to leave you alone.” Grabbing her arm, she hauled Darcey out of bed. “Get dressed, we’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” she sputtered as Sarah dragged her to the bathroom. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” she said. “First, we’re going to a yoga class, and then we’re going to do some retail therapy, and then lunch.”

“But I don’t—” It was too late. Sarah had pushed her into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

“The only way I’m opening this door,” her sister shouted through the door, “Is if you’re washed up and ready to go.”

And so that’s how Darcey found herself at the Blackstone Bodyworx eight o’clock yoga class. The studio was located in the same complex as the Silk, Lace, and Whisper’s soon-to-open boutique. She had met the owner, Anna Victoria, a couple times including during the reception as she was also Damon Cooper’s mate.

“Just breathe. Listen to your body. Listen to yourself,” Anna Victoria instructed as she led the class through the final poses. “You may not be able to control what goes on outside, but you can control what goes on inside.”

Darcey focused on Anna Victoria’s words as she twisted her body into position. Maybe this was a good idea. Sarah, who was on the mat next to her, looked over at her and flashed her a smile, which she returned. Yoga was her sister’s thing, though she had joined her a couple of times, but it never really stuck. However, today, it helped her feel calmer.

“You’re all wonderful, strong, beautiful people,” Anna Victoria said as they began to ease down on the mat. “Close your eyes and tell that to yourself. If you need it now, especially, tell yourself that you’re strong, independent, and worthy of being alive. Worthy of existing, with all the wonderful imperfections that make up who you are.”

It was at that moment that something broke inside of Darcey, because she found herself bursting into tears. Sarah immediately sat up, as did several of the other students, who stared at her.

Humiliated, Darcey shot up and dashed toward the locker room, heading into a stall and shutting it behind her. Well, she thought glumly as she sobbed. At least I made it almost a week without crying. And truly, it was amazing that the last time she’d cried was that night at the reception.

“Darce?” came the hesitant voice of her sister from the other side of the door.

“Give me a minute, Sarah,” she sniffed. Unrolling some tissue, she wiped her face, dabbed at her eyes, and blew her nose before pushing the stall door open. “I—oh.” Warmth crept up her neck as she realized Sarah wasn’t alone. Two other girls were behind her, including Anna Victoria. “Sorry,” she said to the instructor. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

Anna Victoria smiled at her weakly. “No, don’t worry about it. Usually, I make girls cry in the middle of class, not at the end.”

“You okay, hon?” The other girl asked, her face a mask of concern. Unlike most of the girls in class who were geared up in fancy yoga attire and makeup, she was bare-faced and dressed in an old T-shirt and shorts, while her messy blonde hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. If Darcey remembered correctly, this was J.D.

“I’m … all right now.” Darcey swallowed, then made her way past the three women to sit down on the bench.

“Goddammit, I’m really going to kill him,” Sarah whispered as she sat down next to Darcey.

“Kill who?” J.D. asked.

“You heard that?” Sarah asked.

“She’s a shifter,” Darcey said with a sniff. She knew it right away. J.D. had the scent of fur and something … vicious.

“So,” J.D. plopped down on Darcey’s other side and steepled her fingers together. “Who are we going to kill?”

Sarah looked at her helplessly.

Darcey shrugged. “My mate,” she sighed.

“Your mate?” Anna Victoria asked. “You have a mate? You never said anything about having a mate before.”

“I just met him,” she said. “At the reception last week.”

“And the damn asshole rejected her,” Sarah muttered through gritted teeth.

“What?” J.D. snarled. “Who the fuck is this guy who would reject a hottie with a sweet ass like Darcey?”

When Sarah caught her gaze, she nodded. “Who else?” her sister spat. “Anders Stevens.”

“That motherfucker!” J.D. shot to her feet. “We are going to make his striped ass suffer.”

“Please, don’t,” Darcey said. “I just … I just want to forget about him.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll work out,” Anna Victoria said. “I mean, Damon didn’t want to bond with me at first, but we got together. Shifters can’t ignore their inner instinct.”

“Sounds like they can,” Darcey said sadly. “It was just … like a switch for him.” And so once again, she repeated the events of that night to them.

“Pshaw,” J.D. said dismissively. “You don’t want him anyway. Anders is a grade A, man-whoring asshole.”

Darcey winced. The thought of Anders with another woman did not sit well with her swan. It flapped its wings in distress and let out a sad, protesting honk.

“J.D.!” Sarah warned. “She doesn’t need to hear that part about him.”

“Well, it’s his own damned fault, with his reputation,” J.D. said. “But seriously, hon, you dodged a big bullet. You should be thanking your lucky stars that he saved you the trouble of getting hurt in the first place.”

“I should?” Because it sure didn’t feel like she was lucky.

“Yeah,” J.D. said. “But you can’t mope around like a sad, heartbroken little bird.”

Did J.D. know what she was? Of course she did. Just like she could tell J.D. was … something feline. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Remember what I said in class?” Anna Victoria said. “You’re a strong, independent woman. You’ll be fine. You’re going to get through this.”

“And we’re going to help,” J.D. said, a smile forming on her face.

Anna Victoria’s brows snapped together. “We are?”

“Yes!” J.D. paced back and forth.

“I can see the wheels turning in her head,” Sarah stage-whispered to Anna Victoria.

“What are you planning, J.D.?” Anna Victoria asked.

“Darcey,” J.D. began, ignoring the other two and kneeling down in front of her. “You’re beautiful, kind, sexy, and more important—stronger than you think.”

“I-I am?”

“Yeah,” Sarah piped in.

“You’re the strong one, Sarah.” Darcey sniffed. “You’re the one who got us out of that awful foster home.”

“I’m not talking about that.” Her sister smiled. “How many times have you laid your heart on the line, only to have some guy stomp all over it? How many times have you cried over a man, yet brushed yourself off and got back on your feet? You’ve loved and lost and loved and lost again. You can do this.”

“I—” Something in her sister’s words struck a chord deep in her. “You’re right.” A breath escaped her throat. It was a revelation of some sort. Like choirs of angels coming down from heaven, except, instead of singing about true love, they were singing a different message. Sure, right now it sounded like they were singing, You’ve been acting like an idiot, Darcey! in four-part harmony, but it was exactly what she needed to hear. “You’re so right, Sarah!”

“I am?” Sarah blinked.

“Yeah.” Brushing off some imaginary dust off her thighs, she got up. “I don’t need a mate to make me happy. In fact, maybe I don’t need any mate at all.”

“Huh?” Sarah looked flummoxed. “Er, that’s true but that’s not exactly what I—”

“You said it, sister!” J.D. raised a hand.

She slapped her palm to J.D.’s. “Relationships just mess you up and stop you from achieving your goals.” And she already knew what she wanted to be. Just like Anna Victoria said. Strong. Independent. A new Darcey.

“Sure, but …” Anna Victoria looked around nervously. “I mean, when you meet the right guy, it won’t be like that.”

J.D. wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Blackstone has a ton of hot guys. I mean, have you seen our fire department? If it wasn’t illegal, I’d be setting fires every day to make them come to my house.” She fanned herself suggestively.

“Oooh.” Darcey clapped her hands together. “I’m down for some firemen.”

“I thought men messed you up, Darce?” Sarah said.

“I said relationships messed me up,” Darcey shot back. “What I need is to break out of my bad habit of going all in with one man. To stop serving up my own heart on a platter.” That particular organ would stay locked up in her damned chest for once. “And I need to stop being so desperate.”

“Darce, you are not desperate,” Sarah protested.

“What about that time I drove four hours so I could ‘accidentally’ bump into that lawyer I was so sure was ‘the one’?” Darcey cringed at the memory. She and that guy had only been on one date when he mentioned that he was going to a resort in Palm Springs that weekend for a wedding. After finding out where it was, she drove there, dressed to the nines, hoping to bump into him. She did eventually. In the elevator, heading back to his room with a bridesmaid.

“But you didn’t give up.”

“Yeah,” she said wryly. “After that, I met that guy who played in that terrible cover band. I went to every single one of their gigs and pretended to like their music. He went on tour, and I never saw him again.”

Sarah huffed. “If he couldn’t see how special you were, then that was his problem, not yours.”

“Or what about that guy whose parents I wanted to meet after three dates? Or that one who freaked out after I showed up at his job unannounced to surprise him with flowers?”

“Darce—”

“It’s a cycle, see? I’m always the one going over the top and sacrificing everything for these guys. And I can’t be that person anymore. I don’t want to be that person.” When Sarah looked at her skeptically, she put her hands up. “Look, I’m not turning into a man-hater. I’m just going to take it easy and keep my options open.” And stop acting like a damned fool for once.

“That’s the spirit,” J.D. said. “Now, we should do some planning. I have other ideas too. How about we head over to The Den—”

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning,” Anna Victoria reminded her.

“I meant, tonight,” J.D. said, then she grimaced. “You’re right, though, forget The Den. Too many losers hang out there.”

From the way she said losers, Darcey could guess exactly who she meant. “Should we go somewhere else?”

J.D. thought for a moment. “How about a girls’ night at my place?”

“I’m in,” Darcey said. Oh, she hadn’t had a girls’ night in, well, ever. Sarah was really the only woman she hung out and got along with. God, had she really spent most of her adult life chasing after men? Well, maybe it was time they chased after her.

“C’mon now, don’t be spoilsports,” J.D. said to Anna Victoria and Sarah. “I bet I could convince Temperance to join us and bring some of her pies.”

“Fine,” Anna Victoria relented. “I’ll call Damon.”

“See?” J.D. put an arm around Darcey. “We don’t have to call anyone.” She stuck her tongue out playfully at Anna Victoria, who only laughed. “Now, I have a couple of ideas. Not just to help your quest to break your bad habits, but also, to help your business. And have some fun along the way.”

Now Darcey was really intrigued. “Really? What?”

“I’ll tell you,” J.D. said with a twinkle in her eyes. “But this is a conversation that needs alcohol. Lots of it, if you and I are going to get even a slight buzz.”

 

Chapter Two

Anders Stevens knew that hanging out at The Den on a Sunday night was pathetic, even for him, but he couldn’t help himself. Being out here meant that he didn’t have to stay at home alone. Surrounded by the same four walls of his trailer. Surrounded by the silence or the hum of the sports channel on TV which couldn’t drown out his loudest thoughts. Or the angriest growls of his tiger.
Even now, it raked its claws down his insides and let out a furious roar.
Cut that shit out!
Years of training and discipline had allowed him complete mastery of his tiger. While most shifters could live in harmony with their animals or bid them what to do, Anders could practically grab his tiger by the scruff and tell it to pipe down. And it worked too.
Usually.
The tiger craned its neck away from him. It let out an annoyed chuff and went to the corner and sulked.
His fingers flexed around the cool glass in his hand. He’d been so desperate to quiet down his animal that he’d actually ordered a shot of gin on the rocks. But he’d been staring at it for what seemed like hours until the ice melted, watering down the alcohol.
Yet he hadn’t taken a sip or even a sniff. He hadn’t had alcohol in years, and this was the closest he’d been to being tempted. After three weeks of fighting with himself and with his tiger, he was willing to give his soul to the Devil himself if it would fill in the big gaping hole in his chest.
Fuck.
He shut his eyes tight, but that made it worse. A vision of blue eyes—no, green—he shook his head. No, it was somewhere in between. Not quite green, not quite blue. Aquamarine maybe? He tried to Google it the other day, and that was the closest approximation he could find. Well, whatever the hell color those eyes were, the only thing he could remember was how they filled up with tears before he walked away from her.
Twenty-two days. Three hours. Twenty-six minutes. That was the first and last time he’d seen her. But she was in his thoughts nearly every moment of those twenty-two days, three hours, and twenty-six minutes, yet, he couldn’t even say her damned name. Couldn’t say what she was to him. No, he couldn’t think of her or her eyes or her pink lips or that curvy body. Not when he heard that one word that announced his doom.
Mine.
He couldn’t dare let his thoughts continue. Couldn’t let his mind think about who she was and where she could be right now. It was so tempting to try and find out. Was she a friend of Daniel’s? Or Sarah’s? She couldn’t have been from Blackstone. He’d lived here all his life and yet never met her. Surely someone as rare as an avian shifter would be well-known in town. Also, what kind of avian shifter was she? Owl? Hawk? No, definitely not a predator bird. Something sweet and docile flashed in his mind.
His eyes flew open. I need a distraction. As a tiger shifter, his hearing was his best sense. Even in human form, he could focus it, as if he was actually in his animal form and rotate his ears like a radar dish, picking up bits of conversation here and there.
“I can’t believe she left me for that—”
“Man, my boss is such a prick—”
“When didja get back, Nathan? How’s Violet and the little ones?”
“C’mon, she’s so drunk, bet she won’t even remember a thing from tonight.”
That last one sent his senses tingling as his grip tightened on the glass. He turned his head slightly, trying to find out who was talking. It was the table of three men, two over from where he sat.
“… look at her, what a slut,” one of them said.
“Bet she’s a lot of fun,” another added.
“And those tits,” the last man said. “I’d like to get my hands on those.”
“Well, I saw her first,” the first one said. “Lemme finish this round, and I’m gonna go say hi.”
Tamping down his rage, Anders slowly got up, trying not to attract attention. While most people thought he was loud and flashy, he could be stealthy if he wanted to be.
Scanning the room, it wasn’t really hard to find out who those bastards were talking about. There was only one woman alone at the bar, a glass of wine sloshing in one hand while the other tried to catch Tim the bartender’s attention.
“… can I have a another, please, mister?” the brunette woman slurred as she waved her hand at Tim.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Anders said, smoothly sidling up to the woman. She swung her head up to look at him. Christ, she was no woman. She was practically a girl, though at least twenty-one if Tim served her alcohol. Did females grow younger each year? Or maybe he was just turning into an old man.
“Oh. Hey.” A lazy smile spread across her face. “Where’d you come from?”
“From your dreams. Maybe tonight I can be in them again. Or in your bed.” His mouth turned to dust at the thought, and his tiger roared in anger.
“Oohhhh.” She let out a giggle and reached over to squeeze his bicep. “Oh. My. God. You’re, like, so built. You must work out.”
“Some,” he said. “But I get plenty of workout … everywhere.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Hmmm …” Her face went all dreamy. “How about you buy me a drink, and we can talk more about working out.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He caught the bartender’s eye and cocked his head. “Hey, Tim, can you give my girl here—”
“Carrie,” she supplied.
“Give my girl, Carrie, here my favorite drink. Extra strong.”
Tim raised a bushy white brow but said nothing and turned around to start mixing the drink.
Thank you, Tim, he thought silently. Without the bartender’s cooperation—or silence— over the years, everyone would have figure out by now that his favorite ‘drink’ was nothing more than soda water, a splash of cola syrup, and a squeeze of lime. It would surely ruin the reputation he’d been cultivating all these years if anyone suspected. But Carrie was three sheets to the wind, so she probably wouldn’t notice.
“So, Carrie, tell me about yourself.”
“Well,” she began as she finished off her wine, “I’m a student at.…”
He pasted a smile on his face and nodded, but glanced behind him. That guy at the table who was planning on swooping in looked pissed off and stared daggers at him. Good. That should keep the asshole away.
But his job wasn’t done yet. After two more orders of his favorite “drink” Anders put a couple of bills on the table. “How about we get out of here, Carrie?” he whispered in her ear.
Her fingers trailed up his chest. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He placed a hand lightly on her lower back, and led her out of the bar. However, he must have underestimated how drunk she was because she stumbled forward, letting out a loud yelp. With an annoyed grunt, he caught her and hauled her up. “C’mon now.”
“Are we going to your place?” she said in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but made him want to gag, especially when he got a whiff of alcohol from her breath.
“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want. Did you drive here?”
“Keys in my purse. Blue Honda with the cat bumper stickers.”
It took all his strength not to roll his eyes. “You won’t be driving tonight, sweetheart, but I’ll take care of it, okay? I’ll take care of you.”
“’Kay.” Her eyes rolled back as he lifted her into his arms and walked her over to his pickup truck. Unlocking the front passenger door, he slid her into the seat. However, instead of closing the door, he reached over to the middle console and pulled out the water bottle he kept there and unscrewed the top.
Her head flopped forward, and she blinked.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, pushing the bottle to her mouth. “Have a sip. Do it for me, okay? I promise you’ll feel better.”
She grasped the bottle, put her mouth to it, then tipped it back.
“That’s it … slowly, slowly, you don’t want to choke.”
“I don’t think you’ve got anything she’s gonna choke on,” came a voice from behind.
Anders tensed, then put the bottle down to her lap. “Hold onto this while I take care of something.”
“Wh-what’s going on?” she asked, before her head lolled back, passing out in half a second.
Slowly, Anders turned around. To his surprise, all three guys he heard talking about Carrie were there. “Can I help you, gentlemen?” He nearly choked on that last word.
The guy who was murdering Anders with his eyes earlier spoke up first. “Think you’re so slick, swooping in and stealing that girl away from me?”
Oh, brother. Anders rolled his eyes. Not only did this guy sound like a prick, he looked like one, too, with his perfectly-styled blond hair, chino pants, and polo shirt. He even had a fucking sweater over his shoulders. “Did you get lost or something, son?” he began. “The nearest country club is about thirty miles that way. Don’t forget to have your polo ponies scrubbed before you take them out for a ride.”
His two friends, who were similarly dressed, chuckled.
Blondie sneered. “You piece of trash nobody.”
Yeah, well better than being a piece of trash somebody who takes advantage of drunk women. But even though his tiger was raring for a fight, Anders kept his cool. “Whatever. As you can see, I’m busy here. Unlike you, I have places to be, women to do.”
Obviously, Blondie didn’t like that, and he stepped forward, hands raising. “Why you—”
“Doesn’t seem like a fair fight, three against two.”
Who the hell?
A shadowy figure stepped out from behind the Jeep parked across from him. Holy shit. I must be hallucinating.
But no, he wasn’t. That was definitely John Krieger slowly lumbering toward them. At nearly seven feet tall with broad hulking shoulders and tattoos down his massive arms, it was hard to mistake the former Master Sergeant turned ranger for anyone else. As he drew closer, Anders could feel the other man’s animal—a Kodiak bear, if he remembered correctly. The beast was like a tightly coiled spring ready to pounce. He’d gone into training with Krieger when he first signed up for the rangers five years ago, and he was man enough to admit that monster bear of his had made him wary. His tiger’s instincts told him something was definitely wrong with this animal.
“Hey, hey,” one of the other guys said with a nervous laugh. “Who said anything about a fight?”
“Yeah.” The third guy put a hand on Blondie’s shoulder. “C’mon, Bradley, time we go home. We have class tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Bradley,” Anders sneered. God, even his name made him sound like a cunt. “Go home.”
Bradley looked from Krieger to Anders, then let out a huff. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.”
Anders watched as the three men—no, they were boys, really—walked away. Once they were out of sight, his shoulders relaxed. “You’re a little far from home, aren’t you, Krieger?”
After they’d finished training, the other man had been given a permanent assignment guarding the entrance up at Contessa Peak, in the highest and most remote area of the Blackstone Mountains. As far as he knew, Krieger never ventured far from his station as he hated being around others.
Krieger grunted. “Thought I’d come down for a cold beer.”
“Right. Well, I should get going.” He jerked his thumb back at Carrie, who was now snoring loudly from the front passenger seat. “Heard it was rude to keep a lady waiting.” He pivoted on his heel and was about to shut the door when Krieger’s words stopped him.
“Third time this month for you.”
He ground his teeth. “We can’t all live like monks, Krieg.”
“I mean, third time you’ve brought a girl home—to her home—safely and kept assholes like Bradley from taking advantage of them.”
He spun around. “How the hell did you know—are you following me? Sorry, dude, I don’t swing that way.”
Krieger snorted. “You can hide all you want, Stevens. I know what you really are.”
“You do, huh, champ?” he mocked. “Mind your own business, and shut your trap.” Fuck. Having Krieger sniff around was the last thing he needed.
“Damon’s still pissed at you, you know,” the bear shifter said. “But I knew there was more to the story.”
Anders crossed his arms over his chest. Back when Damon’s mate, Anna Victoria, showed up at The Den and got drunk as a skunk on tequila, he had planned to help her out before anyone took advantage of her. However, Damon got to her first, then there was a fight with some anti-shifter assholes, but everything worked out anyway. Turns out Damon and Anna Victoria were mates and now they were married. Anna Victoria would probably be knocked up soon and they could live happily ever fucking after.
And if Damon thought Anders was still a scumbag asshole, then … good. It would only help his carefully cultivated reputation. “Whatever,” he snorted. “But from what I heard, you used to be quite the ladies’ man yourself, Sarge. Had your share of soldier bunnies, or so they say.”
“A man can change,” he said with a shrug.
“Not this man. Every heard of the saying, a tiger can’t change his stripes?”
“I know what you’re trying to do.” Krieger’s dark eyes bore into his. “It’s what I’m trying to do too.”
Anders huffed as he turned around and shut the door. “And what’s that?”
“Be a better man.”
His head snapped back up, and he spun around. But Krieger was gone.
Be a better man.
“Yeah, right.” Anders guffawed. There was no being a better man. Being a terrible person meant no one would want to get to know him, to peel back what was on the surface. It meant no one could come close enough.
A moan from the inside of the car jarred him out of his thoughts. Carrie’s forehead thudded against the window as she continued to snooze. With an audible huff, he walked over to the driver’s side and got in. Grabbing the purse from her shoulder, he checked her ID for her address, then started the engine. Good thing she didn’t live in a dorm but in an apartment complex not far from the university in the next town over. He’d drop her off, leave her a note to remind her of where she parked her car, then drive back home. It used to be, he’d go and check up on them afterwards, making sure they were okay, but after the Darlene incident, he’d stopped doing that. He didn’t need crazy stalkers coming to his work, threatening to kill themselves if he didn’t come out to talk to them. It had been good for his reputation, but talking her down from the ledge was more trouble than it was worth.
Since it was his night off, he should really get some rest before his evening shifts for the week began. But he knew even if he did manage to block out his thoughts and cravings for her, she’d follow him into his dreams.
As soon as he got back home, he walked past the front porch. He went straight toward the woods behind his home, shedding his clothes along the way so he could fully shift into his tiger form. He let it take over for now, because at least it gave his animal a sense of control, some freedom to act on its instincts. It should be enough to satisfy his tiger, because there was no way he was going to give in to its other baser instincts. This would have to be enough.
Twenty-two days. Five hours. Thirteen minutes.
His mind was constantly on her. Sometimes, in his weakest moments, he’d allow his thoughts to wander. Who was she? Where did she come from? What was she doing at the reception? And where was she now?

***

That last question, of course, was constantly on Anders’s mind. Where was she now?
He just never thought he’d get the answer on his way to work the next afternoon, as he gazed up at one of the many billboards along Highway 75.
“What the fuck?”
He slammed on the brakes, the seatbelt the only thing stopping his body from flying through his pickup’s windshield. But he didn’t feel the pain as the belt cut along his skin or heard the honks of the cars behind him nor see the angry faces and gestures of the drivers as they passed around him. No, he could only keep staring up. High up at the familiar lush lips, creamy skin, and aquamarine eyes as they stared down at him.
“Motherfucker!” His fists plowed forward, leaving a crack in the dash. Putting his car back into gear, he maneuvered onto the shoulder and cut the engine.
Pushing the door open, he attempted to slide out of the cab but the seatbelt held him back, choking him. “Goddammit!” He tugged and tugged until somehow his common sense came back, and he reached for the release and unbuckled himself. Rounding to the front of his truck, he looked up, craning his neck back to get a good look at the fifty-foot billboard above him.
Fuck.
It was definitely her. Darcey Wednesday. Her blonde hair tumbled in soft waves around her, eyes heavily lidded as she lay on rumpled white sheets, wearing only a red lace corset. Sure, the photo was tastefully done and only showed her upper body, but she was still on display for everyone to see, her full breasts pushed up and her red lips parted. Hot damn. He was hard just looking up at her. And he was pretty sure every man over thirteen and under eighty passing by this stretch of highway would be too. His tiger roared possessively at that thought.
Mine!
If only he was a dragon, he could fly up there and burn the damned thing to ashes.
“Silk, Lace, and Whispers. Now open in South Blackstone,” he managed to read aloud, once the haze of red cleared from his vision and he could see the copy scrawled at the bottom of the ad.
Darcey was some kind of model? Of course she was, he thought with a snort. She was gorgeous. A little on the short side, sure, but those curves were definitely made for silk and lace. And his hands roaming over her skin and ripping that delicate—
“Christ!” He spun on his heel and stomped back to his pickup, slamming the door so hard when he got in, the cab rattled. Rubbing his hands down his face, he started the truck, giving that damned billboard a quick glance, which was a big mistake because it didn’t help his erection. He couldn’t remember ever being so aroused and angry at the same time.
After checking the highway was clear, he got back on, speeding away from the billboard. Still, it was an image he couldn’t erase from his mind, probably never would. Darcey on top of white silk sheets. Red lace covering her sweet body. Those plump lips, wondering how they would taste. How her body would feel under his.
Goddammit.
It was a fucking miracle he made it to HQ in one piece. His entire body was vibrating in anger—or need—he wasn’t sure at this point because both emotions ebbed and flowed from him until he was a shaking mass of confusion.
He stalked into HQ, not bothering to return the greeting of his colleagues who were leaving for the day, or saying sorry to someone he bumped into.
“Excuse me,” came the terse voice which was accompanied by a surly growl.
Whipping his head back, Anders could hardly suppress his tiger’s annoyance at the sight of the tall man in gold-rimmed glasses. This asshole. Dr. What’s-his-face. Spenser, he recalled. Damon had introduced him a few weeks back, and his superior attitude and stupid accent had rubbed Anders the wrong way. Spenser was supposed to be a ranger, but when he wasn’t on patrol, preferred to hole himself up in his office, doing research or whatever bullshit he came here for.
“Sorry,” Anders said in his most insincere tone, then dashed away. Entering the changing room, he headed straight to his locker to get into his uniform. As he slipped his shirt off, a loud, angry clang of a locker door slamming from behind caught his attention.
It was Daniel Rogers, fucking hero of Blackstone. However instead of his usual friendly smile, Rogers sent him a seething look, then headed toward the door, but not before he could feel the other man’s bear roar at him in rage.
What the hell was with people and their animals today?
Wait. Rogers would know where Darcey was. “Hey, Rogers! Hold on!” Shutting his locker, he was about to chase after the other man when a snippet of conversation caught his sensitive hearing.
“… holy fuck, man, I’d like to get her between my sheets.”
“Shit, I nearly swerved off the highway when I saw that billboard,” someone said with a chuckle. “Woulda been worth it, though.”
“Really? Then take a look at this.”
There were several gasps. “Where’d you get that?”
“I want one.”
“Fuck, I want two!”
Anders’s shoulders tensed as he stalked around to the other row of lockers. Sure enough, a group of four guys from the day shift were gathered together.
“What the hell is going on here?” He pushed two of them aside. “What do you—” Fury rose in him, and the edges of his vision turned dark red. Sure enough, there was a postcard-sized version of Darcey’s billboard on the inside of one of the lockers.
“Bro!” The owner of said locker, Davis—who had only passed the training course last year—called. “Have you seen this hottie?”
“Where did you get this?” he asked, his tone tense.
Davis chuckled. “I was out with my nephews and sister last Saturday in South Blackstone, and then I come across this lingerie shop, right? I stopped cuz that picture was displayed in the window, and when I peek inside—holy shit, she was in there, working the register! I go in—I don’t care that it’s all girly lacey underwear and shit—and I go up to her and chat her up a bit.” A dark brow went up. “Lemme tell you, she’s even hotter up close. Anyway, I chat her up, and I find out her name is Darcey, and she’s not just the model, but the manager of the shop too. They had a whole rack of those post cards”—he nodded at the one hanging on his locker—“so I got one and even asked her to autograph it.”
“She works here? In Blackstone?” one of the other guys—Gilmore—asked.
“Yeah.” Davis smirked. “Maybe I’ll head over there on my day off and—”
“You fucking better not!” Anders roared as he grabbed the postcard off the wall and tore it in half.
“What the fuck, bro?” Davis cried. “The hell are you—ack!”
Before he could stop himself, Anders had his hands around Davis’s neck. “You stay the fuck away from her, if you know what’s good for you!” He bared his teeth at the other men and growled.
“What the hell, man?” Gilmore cried. “What’s the matter with you? You’re choking him.”
Turning back to Davis, he saw the other man’s face turning purple. Shock made him relax his fingers. “Fuck,” he spat. “Jesus, I—” Quickly, he did an about face and stomped to his locker, grabbing his uniform shirt and stormed out the door.
What the fuck just happened? Scrubbing a hand down his face, he let out a growl. She was still here, in Blackstone. Worked here, probably lived here too. Glancing down at the torn postcard in his hand, he saw the address of the lingerie shop.
“Don’t even think about it,” he told himself. His inner tiger, however, snarled at him and raked its claws down his insides. “Stop, I’m not going anywhere near her!” Stuffing the postcard pieces in his pocket, he put his shirt on and stalked off to begin his shift. Somehow, someway, he’d get Darcey Wednesday out of his system for good.

 

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