Turning off the engine, Harper hopped out of the car and rushed to open the door before Angela climbed out.
“That’s another thing you have to remember. Don’t be so polite to a female. The Alphas around here whether human or cat or wolf will take that as a weakness and challenge you. From looking at you, you aren’t ready to fight one of these seasoned wolves. And don’t challenge a human, they carry guns.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“Yes. I belong to Nero. He owns this bar.” Harper rushed to open the door to the bar and caught himself. Then he remembered what Angela had said to him. He walked in first and she held the door. He stood looking around. The eyes were on him and he thought it was for obvious reasons. Reasons Angela had gone over with him and reasons she had yet to disclose.
She belonged to the notorious shifter who owned the Rusty Nail and it lived up to its name. It was more like an old barn without the livestock. It was open with a high ceiling and rafters. Then there were stalls. The kind where they keep horses.
When Harper strode in heads lifted from the stalls. On the floor, wood chips and straw. In the middle of the bar an open arena not for dancing, but it looked like someone had made a ring. The kind you see where humans fight.
The livestock had been replaced with wolf shifters and cat shifters of all kinds. Mountain lions, panthers who were mostly females. It appeared all the female shifters were cats. Big ones and little ones. And all the male shifters were wolves. And then there’s the men.
Harpers first thought was to walk out and leave this gruesome bunch of characters, but this was to be his life, and this area was where he would make his home. Like it or not, he had to make it home and get along with the shifters and humans.
Nero glanced up when he saw Angela, and his face fell into a sour look. His ears peaked upward at seeing her. She strolled to the bar where Nero stood behind the counter stocking it with recognizable liquor and some homemade brews.
“Who the fuck is that with you,” Nero said looking at Angela and shooting Harper a menacing glance.
“This is Harper. He’s one of us,” Angela added.
“He’s not one of us. Not with a name like that, and that simple expression on his face. But we can toughen him up.”
“What do you mean toughen me up? I didn’t come here to fight anyone. I came here to bring Angela here. I met her...” Angela turned to Harper and narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t say anything more,” she whispered, but it wasn’t low enough and Nero heard her.
She forgot to warn Harper that Nero forbid her from hunting without him, and he banned her from going near anyone when she was in heat. And she was in heat. But Harper didn’t know it. His instincts and smell wasn’t for felines, but humans and were-females.
Walking around the counter and standing in front of Angela, his long arms reached for her hair where he wrapped it around his large fist, and then he dragged her into the stock room.
When Harper made a move to stop him, three large werewolves shifted to block his path. They had learned how to shift quickly which gave them an advantage over Harper. He was still learning. He was learning everything on how to be a werewolf.
“You had better mind your own business,” a large muscular werewolf barked. He appeared to be part of Nero’s pack because they sported the same tattoos. A picture of a skull.
“What does that stand for?” Harper questioned pointing to the skull on the beta’s arm.
“It signals a dying breed. We’re the dying wolves but before the humans wipe us out we’re going to reap such havoc on them, and anyone that stands in our way. Do you want to join?”
“I don’t believe you can settle anything with violence.” The werewolves laughed out loud and moved closer to Harper. He could smell their musk. He could hear their hearts beat.
He back away to the edge of the bar. Sitting on both sides of him were the female cats who appeared more interested in what they were drinking than a werewolf about to be killed.
“You haven’t understood your reality, have you? You’re a werewolf and you shed blood when you hunt animals and eat them. The only difference of what you were and what you are now, is you’re much stronger, and more blood-thirsty, and you fuck a lot.” He turned to the members of his pack and laughed. Now all the shifters hiding came out for a laugh.
He stopped laughing and his eyes narrowed and he furrowed his bushy brow. “This makes you apart from that human you were,” the beta said.
The beta wolf reached for Harper, grabbed hold of his shirt, and tossed him in the air into the ring as if he was a doll. Harper feeling threatened, shifted into his second stage. He stood like a man, but his body stronger and more powerful. His hands became large paws with long claws. His fangs like blades.
His eyes changed from a cool blue to a glowing sharp golden brown. His teeth elongated and his two incisors, sharp and deadly. He hadn’t wanted this, but he was thrown into this situation, and now he had to prove himself in front of these shifters.
If he didn’t, he would never be able to live in this area. And he would never walk out of this bar alive.
There wasn’t a doubt that the shifters would kill him eventually or run him out of the area. But where could he go? Back to San Francisco, or any large or small town? There was no place for a werewolf. There was no place for him, but here.
Only in the rural areas could he find peace. But he had to prove that he belonged.
When Harper landed on his feet the large werewolf with the muscle bound neck and arms which hung to his side like two hammers had jumped in the ring. They were facing each other down. The shifters hiding in stalls having sex with the were-cats came out to see the cage match.
“No one will leave until one is dead.” Harper heard one werewolf whisper to a were-bobcat with large breasts.
A low groan and snarl crossed the beta wolf’s lips. And his wolf was ready to dig into Harper until there was no more Harper. He had the body of a fighter, but he had few scars and bruises anywhere on his body.
He had either won without being mauled, or he had never had a fight before, Harper thought. The beta chose him because he wanted to make a name for himself and what better way to do that than to kill the new wolf in town.
Fear wasn’t part of Harper’s DNA. He had lived and loved clueless. He didn’t know he had to fear the beta because he knew he was an Alpha in all sense of the word. He knew he could survive anything, and now he would be put to the test.
As the two werewolves stood watching and circling each other, the crowd in the Rusty Nail came to the forefront to cheer. Shouting out the werewolf’s name “Redlin. Redlin.” The stomping of feet and the whistling and jeering at Harper didn’t faze him. Today he would test his courage and determination. Today he would know if he could be a werewolf or just ceased to exist.
Today he would know if he is a true werewolf. Redlin made a leapt at Harper and he raised his large paw and swiped him away like Redlin was a bug. Redlin gave a loud bark. When he turned Harper’s sharp claws had torn a hole from his eye to his neck.
Harper stood wishing he wouldn’t have to do this again. He wanted this to be over. But Redlin came at Harper again and Harper backed away. Redlin grabbed a hold of Harper’s shoulder and Harper heard someone shout, “His jugular. His jugular, Redlin, and it’s over.”
Now Harper knew what he had to protect. And what would bring an end to Redlin’s aggression. Harper realized Redlin had been hurt because the blood oozed from his face and shoulder. Redlin kept checking his face. He appeared concerned with the amount of blood covering him, than Harper poised ready to kill him.
He didn’t see Harper’s eyes turn to a burnish gold. He didn’t see that he forced Harper to become a killer.
Redlin’s breathing became loud and he clenched his teeth and made another leap for Harper. Harper sidestepped him and pivoted and launched himself on Redlin’s back and sunk his teeth into his jugular ripping a large hole on the side of Redlin’s neck.
Dropping down on the canvas like a boulder in a lake, Redlin lay there flaying around. Harper had never seen anything like it and didn’t want to see this again. He climbed out of the ring in silence and covered with blood.
Harper staggered through a throng of werewolves and were-cats watching at him but not saying a word. They appeared stunned. He stumbled into his truck and staring at nothing, he started the motor and drove away.
Nero and Angela had been in the back and hadn’t come out for all the shouting and then the silence. One of the betas knocked on the door to the room they had disappeared into.
“What the fuck do you want?” Nero shouted through the moaning and groaning and heavy breathing. “I’m fucking. When I’m finished, then I’ll be out,” he barked through his teeth.