Page 18 of Unexpected Alpha's Claim

“You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense,” I agreed, covering where my thoughts were. “But what are we going to do about it?”

The three of us looked at each other, at the same impasse we’d come to a dozen times since our encounter with the witch. None of us saw a path forward. We’d discussed her riddle to death, we’d talked tactics, we’d done everything any of us could think of up to that point, but it was a waiting game.

“Yeah,” Ray said, running his greasy hands through his hair.

“Uhm,” Sammy said and shrugged.

“Right,” I said. “So, let’s get back to work and, how about we stop tearing up our tools?”

“My bad,” Sammy said.

“I should have been paying attention, sorry,” Ray said.

“Good,” I said. “Now get to work. The customers are waiting.”

I returned to the pipe I was trying to get into the right shape, but my thoughts were onher. As they almost always were. The witch was a problem, but this burning need, to be with Monica was a bigger one. For me at least. Because as much as I tried to ignore it, I knew myself and my wolf well enough to feel it wasn’t going away. And I didn’t know how long I could hold out against it.

12

RAUL

Igazed up at the road to Shandaken and located her house, it was set between two, spruce trees. Her closest neighbor was well over two hundred yards away, and there were no trees near or around his house. Once she had turned out her light, I could go to bed, knowing that she was safe and sound.

Had my Alpha or another member of the pack discovered anything about her, I would have heard them coming. Shifters are anything but subtle. They don’t mind making noise. The thrill of the hunt excited them too much to keep quiet. In essence, it would be like a herd of horses, galloping up the mountainside. I’d hear their frenetic yips and barks long before they got close. Hell, they would be audible throughout Dawson.

I continued my routine every night. On Saturday, under a cloudy sky, I walked out into my front yard to take up my watch. My gaze returned to the spot where had saved my life not too long ago, while my sharp hearing was focused, listening for any of the tell-tale noises.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught two pairs of headlights tearing though the darkness of the main road an instant before I heard the engines. In a heartbeat, the one in front had come to a halt outside Monica’s home and the other one came to a fast stop behind it. Worry washed over me. I was too far away to see the make and model of the vehicles. God only knew who they were. Perhaps her ex was back in his black Camry and had decided to bring a friend along to back him up. Another assault on her person?

Shift. Protect.

My gut instincts demanded. It couldn’t bear the thought of my doctor being cornered by anybody, no matter who they were. However, it was almost 7:30 pm, much too early for me to use the wolf. People were still driving out of and coming into Shandaken. Pushing the urge down I opted for the next best thing.

Leaping off my porch I raced to get the keys to my silver Heritage Classic.

It had the speed to get me up the hill and if this was not a threat it would avoid any further awkwardness between me and Monica. I grabbed the keys from the kitchen table and ran at full speed to the motorcycle. I swung my leg over the saddle as I turned the key in the ignition. I put the motorcycle into gear and released the clutch, causing it to jerk forward. Its thunderheaders roared across the valley as I turned it around and raced it off of my property.

I twisted on the throttle as the winding road up the hill came into view. Twelve, hairpin bends, each fraught with danger for the ignorant and unsuspecting, but not for me. I knew every inch of this road. Exactly which parts of the asphalt would retain water,and which would freeze. Even a tiny layer of ice could throw me off my bike and into the dirt.

The Classic’s exhausts growling in the night, and I glanced down at the speedometer. I was doing seventy-two miles an hour and the needle was going slowly up as I navigated the tight turns. As I exited the last hairpin bend, I opened it up all the way, letting the machine loose as I emerged onto the main road in a rumbling blast of speed.

I didn’t have far left to go. A quarter of a mile later, I was racing up to the cars that had parked at her house. One was a white Grand Cherokee and the other was a small, red BMW. They were both neatly parked parallel to the sidewalk. These are not the kind of vehicles I would expect an enemy to be driving.

My fear and concerns evaporated as a familiar, beautiful scent filled my nostrils. Strawberry. Along with Monica’s sweet caramel, there was also a strong scent of cinnamon.

Halting the bike and putting my feet on the ground, I gazed out at the road, and then back to Monica’s front door. Damn it… That woman didn’t know it, but she affected me in ways no one else could. I knew, now, that she was safe and sound, but I didn’t have the slightest clue what to do. Stay and interrupt a night in with her friends? Or leave and try to forget about her for good?

“Raul! Raul!”

I whipped my head back in the direction of her front door to see that Monica had come outside. She was holding her hands over her ears as she walked over to me.

“Sorry,” I told her, switching off the engine.

“God, what a racket!” She protested. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“On the contrary. It’s one of the things I love about bikes,” I maintained, though my ears were still buzzing from the roaring rumble. I nodded towards the parked cars. “I see you’ve got company.”

“Ahem…” Someone cleared her throat. Looking past Monica, which was entirely more difficult than it had any right to be, I recognized her redheaded friend who was standing under the doorframe. “Hi, Raul. Nice bike. I didn’t know you were into motorcycles.”

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