“I didn’t!” the little junk food addict lied.

“Then why are you in his bed?” Chris drawled, his glare never wavering from his panicked mate.

“For sex?” Izzy said, sounding hopeful as both men rolled their eyes.

“I cannot believe that you went behind my back and did this,” Chris said, sounding truly pissed as he moved around the bed and carefully scooped her up in his arms, throwing an accusing glare towards the massive pile of wrappers and junk food as he did it.

“B-but, I didn’t!” Izzy protested even as she wrapped her arms around her mate’s neck. “It was all Kale! He needed the energy for our marathon of sex!”

“Uh huh,” Chris said, clearly not believing her as he focused his attention on him.

“House meeting after patrol,” Chris simply said, obviously expecting to be obeyed, which was really f**king sad.

“Can’t,” Kale said, leaning over to pick through the remains of Izzy’s junk fest.

“Oh, I think that you can,” Chris drawled lazily.

“And why is that?” Kale asked, already planning on leaving in an hour for the job in Ontario that would bring him one step closer to his goal.

“Because we need your help hunting down the other Pytes.”

Chapter 2

Townson, Massachusetts

Cloe couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as she parked in front of the pharmacy and took in her surroundings. When she’d accepted this job she’d pictured this quiet southeastern Massachusetts town a little bit differently. Something along the lines of the colonial era came to mind, maybe a pilgrim or two roaming the streets¸ but alas, there was nothing special to set this town apart from the dozen or so other towns that she’d called home over the years.

With a disappointed sigh, she climbed out of her small SUV. Fighting a yawn, she opened the door and walked inside and headed straight to the back of the pharmacy. After waiting in line for ten minutes she handed over her prescription and information. Once she’d played twenty questions with the pharmacist and he felt that she wasn’t a drug lord hellbent on turning his quiet little town into her own personal drug empire, she was gestured to the waiting area that consisted of three long park style benches lined up against the back wall.

A young couple sat on the first bench. The woman, who was obviously pregnant, was quietly reading a gossip magazine while the man next to her openly checked Cloe out. Okay, that was just creepy and made her want to slap him upside the head. Ignoring him, she shifted her gaze to the next bench where two, grumpy, old men sat looking less than welcoming.

Finally, on the last bench she spotted just one man, a large man, well over six feet tall if she had to guess, sitting at the far end of the bench. The hood of his grey sweatshirt was pulled over his head, effectively shielding his face. He was leaning to the side, using his fist as a pillow and leaving a large portion of the bench empty. With an inward sigh, she walked over and sat down. She was aware of the shocked expressions from everyone around them, but ignored them as well, too tired to really care.

Their eyes shot from her to the guy sitting next to her as if they couldn’t quite believe that she’d sat there or that he’d let her. Whatever their problem was, she didn’t care. She wasn’t here to get involved in small town drama. She had a job to do and as soon as she had her prescription she would go start it.


This young woman was……odd.

He watched as she stepped in line, noting the way that the rest of the customers stopped what they were doing to watch her every move and listen to every word that she spoke as though they had every right in the world to do it. She seemed completely oblivious of their welcoming glares as she sat down next to him. This town had a knack for scaring young women away.

They’d been going out of their way to do it since they’d decided over thirty years ago that he was no longer welcome in their town. Thanks to their drama he no longer had to worry about women approaching him. It was the only part of the small town bullshit that he actually appreciated. Well, that and the fact that he never had to wait in line since no one in town had the balls to come within ten feet of him.

After a minute, she raised a challenging brow in his direction. He ignored it as he looked her over out of the corner of his eye. Her flannel shirt was open, revealing a tight gray tee shirt that ended right above her belly button and a rather shapely athletic stomach. Her chest was good size too, he realized, reminding him of just how much of an ass**le he truly was. A surge of guilt had him looking away from her chest to take in the rest of her. His gaze shifted to the thick, black watchband on her wrist and then up to her face.

She was a natural beauty with chestnut hair and intelligent grey eyes. Her lips were full and somewhat pouty looking. This girl could easily blend in with the other women in this town and be beautiful by their standards, but that wasn’t her. He could tell that she wasn’t the type of woman who’d be happy merely blending in. She had the look of a woman who would beat the shit out of a man and then roll her eyes when he whimpered.

“I know you’re awake,” she suddenly announced on a bored sigh.

He had to smile, a rare feat for him, but one that he couldn’t help at the moment. “Never said that I wasn’t.”

She glanced over at him and looked pointedly at his hooded head. “Oh?”

“It’s not my fault if everyone assumes that I’m asleep,” he explained, deciding that it couldn’t hurt to kill some time talking with this odd woman.

She arched a perfectly shaped brow at that. “Yes, you’re right. I often wear a hooded sweatshirt to the drugstore and pretend to be asleep just to play mind games with the populace.”

“Do you really?” he asked, a small chuckle that sounded a bit rusty and unpracticed escaping him and making him realize that it had been too damn long since anyone had made him laugh.

She ran a hand through her hair. Mesmerized, he watched as her hair fell back in place. “All the time,” she murmured as she looked around the store.

The two gossiping men and the young woman, who’d been reading, looked over and scowled in their direction. If the young woman sitting next to him was bothered by the attention it didn’t show.

“I don’t think they like you,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, knowing that their glares were solely meant for him. When they heard him, they glared harder, sending the silent message that played like a broken record at this point, the one that told him to get the hell out of their town.

“Oh no, I shall have to end it all tonight at the stroke of midnight after professing my undying love for my favorite boy band in my pink lacey diary,” she said in such a slow and toneless manner that he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there a problem? Is he bothering you?” one of the elderly men barked in demand.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, shrugging off the elderly man’s concerns.

“Christofer, your prescriptions are almost done,” the pharmacist announced, shooting the woman beside him a nervous glance and leaving no doubt in his mind whatsoever that his order had been rushed to get him out of the store and away from the young woman who’d made the mistake of sitting next to him.

“Thank you,” Christofer said as he leaned back against the bench, not really caring if he was making anyone nervous. He was enjoying himself, probably for the first time in years. It also didn’t hurt that the woman sitting next to him was giving off a mouthwatering aroma.