Page 8 of Shaken Knot Stirred

Beg.

I saw his lips move. I heard the words he spoke. “Moxie, where’s my money?” But none of that registered.

His scent pushed away the awareness of everything else. Pine, but not the floral pine of walking through a forest. It was the pine of hospitals, industrial cleaners. And there was mint, too, that tried to compete with the pine. Sweet and sharp and comforting.

As I watched his lips move, his smile went from pleased to evil.

His scent destroyed me and opened a bottomless pit in my stomach.

Beg Knightbridge was my scent match.

I didn’t know how that was possible. I had met Beg once. His scent had been overpowering then too, but he sure as fuck hadn’t been my scent match. His aura was also now different. Most Alpha auras were expansive. They took up space, but his was held close to his skin, almost like a beta. It was like he was protecting himself and trying to keep himself separate from his pack.

Pack.

Beg Knightbridge was a pack leader.

That was new, too.

“Your what?” I said to fill the space.

“My money.” There was a slight twang to his accent. It was more cocky than regional. “I want it back.”

I tilted my head. This aura math wasn’t mathing. His was dense, for sure, it did reflect his pack. Colors and textures merged in a pack, denoting bonds. Little fingers of aura stretched out for their mates. He was definitely in a pack. But here, the bonds were stunted. He was pack lead. But he didn’t want to be.

“I don’t have it.” I stalled for time. I’d conned better men than Beg Knightbridge. That was what I did. I conned men, used them and got away with it. As an auracle, I could see shifts in mood. It was almost as good as mind reading. Maybe better because your aura didn’t lie to you.

But could you run a con against your scent match?

Mother fucking shitballs. Beg Knightbridge was my scent match.

“Nico says otherwise,” he taunted me with the name of my ex. Beg slid his hands into his pockets and pushed back the edge of his jacket, revealing a holster and a gun.

Something about that just pissed me off. This was my space, my territory. I was the only one allowed to threaten violence.

“Oh, Nico is a liar. You know that, right?” I said, dropping my voice an octave. He was expecting me to beg, ha, plead. That would never happen.

“Of course, he’s a liar. The little thief. You were a magnificent pair. Until you fucked up.”

I touched the locket around my neck and prayed the scent blockers would hold.

“My money or your life, Moxie.”

I managed to laugh at that. He was an alpha and a crime lord. He expected me to cower. Yeah, I was terrified. But I wasn’t going to show it. I was more terrified of the scent match than anything Beg could do to me.

Fuck. A scent match.

“Well,” I sighed dramatically and put my hands on my hips. “You’ll just have to live with disappointment, I suppose.”

A broad smile burst across his face. It chilled me to the bone.

“Oh,” he said, with a little moan of anticipatory satisfaction. “I’m gonna enjoy taking every damn cent out of your hide.”

He broke for me. Alphas were fast, but fear made me faster. I pushed into the kitchen, slid underneath the island counter, and was out the back door before Beg even made it into the room. The door clunked closed with a heavy thud, hydraulics on this one having broken a long time ago, too. I jammed a crowbar through the handle. He’d either have to bust it down or go out the front. It would give me a head start into the woods.

I was wearing ballet flats. Not the best shoes when you had to run for your life. I heard him bellow my name from the parking lot. I didn’t dare look back as I ran.

My pace slowed in the underbrush. I was making too much noise.

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