Page 2 of Sold Rejected Mate
But the two other shifters working with us tonight probably heard it, even from the other side of the dining room, and smiled to themselves. Even though they both hate his stupid ass, too, they’re probably secretly smug thatsomeoneput me in my place. Called me a stray. Like I haven’t heard it a million times before. Like my own fucking parents didn’t call me a stray when my sixteenth birthday came and went without my first shift. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to be shifting at all.
I could just leave. At this point, he’s out of my way. There’s nothing stopping me from walking through the doors and never coming back to this stupid fucking diner.
But something else would be a lot more satisfying, and I take that route.
“Who the fuck you calling a stray?” I hiss into his face, spinning on my heel and pinning him against the wall faster than he can blink.
I might not be able to shift, but I’m still strong. I have all the same enhanced senses as the other shifters. Their biggest mistake throughout my life has been underestimating me.
Especially considering the magic that seeps through my pores now, holding Frosted Tips up with the strength of someone much bigger than me, even though I’m not trying to control it, not casting with it at all.
“What the—” he wheezes, but then my forearm presses a little harder into his windpipe, and he’s not able to say anything at all.
The table nearest to us—three old ladies sipping on iced teas—screams. Probably less from actual fear and more from surprise that I’m able to pin someone with at least fifty pounds on me up against the wall.
“Enough!”
Something grabs my shirt and yanks me backward, choking me with my collar and making me sputter. I’m already feeling a little better after involuntarily using that little bit of magic.
Frosted Tips falls to his knees and hacks to the ground like a wounded cat. I stifle the urge to kick him.
“Getout,” the boss says, his hand still gripped in my shirt as he hauls me to the front of the diner, his face ruddy with anger as he literally tosses me out like we’re in a cartoon. “If I see you again, Valerie, I’m calling the police.”
I stand up as he slams the door, brushing myself off and sliding my hand into my pocket. The parking lot asphalt burns through my worn sneakers as I stand there, clutching my final paycheck like it might magically multiply. Theoretically, I might get away with that if I knew how to do it without getting caught.
For the first time, I look down at it, checking the amount.
Twenty-three dollars and seven cents.
I amfucked.
Even if I didn’t have rent to pay—which I do—it’s nowhere near close enough to pay off the other stuff.
The headache is back, pounding behind my eyes. My sneakers scuff against the ground as I start to walk in the direction of the bus stop, each step sending a jolt of pain straight up my brain stem.
And that’s when I hear it—the low rumble of an engine idling right behind me, creeping along as I go.
At first, I ignore it, keep my head down, and hope that it will go right past. Hope that it’s not Frosted Tips, following me out—or, actually, I hope that itishim. Maybe another altercation will let out more of this magic.
Then a motorcycle zips around the corner, flying into the alleyway and blocking it off. The rider doesn’t even bother to wear a helmet; his shoulder-length, greasy hair is messy from the wind.
He fixes me with a bored look, and fear thrums through me. Turning, I try to run back. Maybe past the diner, or back into it. The boss might hate me, but surely he wouldn’t let me get kidnapped.
But there’s a large black SUV parked at a diagonal, blocking my path, and when I turn to the side, I genuinely start to question if I might be able to climb up the side of a flat brick building like Spiderman.
“Don’t run.” An impossibly large man climbs out of the SUV, wearing a leather coat and scowling at me. “Don’t make me chase you.”
My magic surges hot and wild, responding to the fear in my system, and I decide—fuck it. They’ve already got me. What can using the magic for once cost me?
Turning on my heel again, I sprint straight for the side of the building.
“What the fuck is she doing?” one of them shouts. Then I hear the sound of their feet on the ground, coming at me.
Adrenaline surges through me. My mouth tastes like metal. I’ve never really learned how to control the magic. I’ve spent so long trying to shove it down inside me that the best I can do is justimaginewhat I want, and hope that I get it.
And when I jump, leveraging myself off a dumpster, hands and feet colliding with the brick wall, the craziest thing happens.
Iactuallystick to the wall.
