Snow
The Wolves of Shade County 4
Snow
Snow is a shapeshifter with a tortured past, hidden behind a wall of smiles and laughs. That past has given him advantages, though. He can shift quicker than anyone on the planet, and his instincts are second to none. He also has quite the knack for getting information, so when there’s an increase in violence on shifters he’s the ideal person to get to the bottom of things. A ray of sunlight is added to his darkening days when he meets Bernie.
Bernie is completely in the dark about who Snow is, but what he does know is that he’s attracted to the guy in more ways than just physical. Who couldn’t love a guy who has a permanent smile on his face?
But will Bernie understand when Snow is forced to reveal all? And even if he does, will he hang around long enough for Snow to make his feelings known?
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 31,098 words
SNOW
The Wolves of Shade County 4
JC Holly
EROTIC ROMANCE
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove
SNOW
Copyright © 2014 by JC Holly
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-184-6
First E-book Publication: August 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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SNOW
The Wolves of Shade County 4
JC HOLLY
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Snow sat on the rail of his penthouse apartment and watched the people beneath him go about their day to day tasks, sweating as they did. The seemingly never-ending heat wave was taking its toll on the city and its occupants. Thankfully shifters weren’t so easily affected. Snow could have been in Death Valley with a hot drink and still wouldn’t have been much more than uncomfortable.
One advantage to the weather was that people removed their clothes. It was the reason he was outside. While the women in short skirts and strappy tops didn’t do much for him, the men in shorts certainly did. Especially when they started to sweat and soaked through their T-shirts. Quite the difference from his home country of England.
He was being watched as well. Every now and again someone in the apartment building across the street would glance out of their window and see him, and would stand there for a moment. He ignored them. Even when he was on ground level, he attracted attention. A side effect of his pale skin and shocking white hair. He hadn’t always looked that way, but it had been long enough that he took the looks and whispers in stride.
His phone sat next to him on the narrow railing that separated him from two hundred feet of air. At some point it would ring, and his alpha would tell him where the pack meeting was being held. And so he waited. Some would pace, or watch TV, or check their e-mails. Snow preferred to sit and watch the world. There was an art to killing time, and it was an art Snow was a master of. The people in the streets kept moving and he kept watching.
When the phone finally rang, the vibrations buzzed the phone right off the rail. He grabbed it before it could fall more than an inch, then hopped up onto the rail and began to walk it like a tight-rope as he answered the call.
“Morning, boss.”
“Snow.” The alpha’s voice was warm and friendly. “How’s the day treating you?”
“Pretty good so far. Just taking in the fresh air.”
“Excellent. The meeting’s in one hour at location four. See you soon.”
Snow hung up and glanced down to find he’d gathered quite the crowd. With a wink none of them could see, he slid his phone into his pocket and hopped back onto the balcony. Since nobody had died, the spectators would assume it was a publicity stunt, or that there was a hidden camera show. They’d go home and tell their friends, and would be laughed at for making things up. Or someone would call the police and Snow would get in trouble. Again. He grinned and walked back into his apartment to change.
* * * *
Bernie winced as the madman a hundred feet above him hopped onto the rail of his balcony and walked back and forth like it was nothing. Who the hell did that? One slip, or the slightest breeze, and the guy would be a stain on the road. A stain where you’re standing. The man finished his call and then hopped back inside his apartment, and Bernie could breathe again.
“You believe that?” a woman next to him asked, shaking her head. “Fucking asshole.”
Bernie murmured an agreement, but “asshole” wasn’t the word that sprung to mind. “Fun” was the word.
He started walking again, but it took a moment to remember where he was going. That was the thing about watching something like that. It got his adrenaline going even though he himself was in no danger. He chuckled and dipped into the card store and tracked down the “new home” cards, then headed to the counter with his choice.
“Oh, someone move?” the perky woman behind the counter asked.
“My ex,” he said. “He’s moved to France, and just got his new place.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her face fell. “I shouldn’t have pried.”
“No, it’s fine.” He smiled as she handed over the change. “It was all frie
ndly. He needed something different, and I didn’t. No tears or anything.”
Her smile returned and she told him to have a nice day. He told her he intended to and headed back into the heat.
The break-up hadn’t been entirely tear-free, but he hadn’t lied when he said it was a friendly split. There were no arguments or recriminations. It just happened, and that was that. Hell, he was buying Steve a card. That should say a lot.
Still, in the two weeks since Steve had left, Bernie had found himself feeling lonely. It had been years since he’d been alone for more than a few days. It didn’t help that he wasn’t due back in work for a couple more days yet. Work would distract him.
There were other distractions, though, he thought as he glanced up at the now-empty balcony. Bernie would have bet money that the odd white-haired guy would be quite the entertainer, regardless of the location.
* * * *
Snow pulled his car into the one free parking spot in the small lot behind “location four” and hopped out into the sun once more.
Since the recent spate of attacks on shifters, the pack meetings had become a lot more secretive. Each of the buildings owned or used was given a number, and the members were forbidden from telling anyone which was which. On top of that, the location numbers changed at each new meeting. This time four was a small disused clothing store, but next time four could be one of the bars, or the pool hall, or the cabin in the hills.
A shifter with flaming red hair stood in the fire exit, her porcelain skin almost as pale as Snow’s in the sunlight. June had been a member since before Snow had joined. She grinned as he approached.
“Hey, Snow! I haven’t seen you since the last meeting.” She put her hands on her hips. “Shifts at the clinic, or have you been avoiding me?”
“Avoiding you?” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear. “If I were straight I’d be balls deep in you right now.”
She laughed and punched him on the arm. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only the ones I like. Am I the last one?”
She nodded and waved him inside, then grabbed his ass as he passed her. “Damn. Why couldn’t you be straight?”
“Didn’t you hear?” He grinned and danced away from her second grab. “All the best ones are gay.”
The store had been gutted shortly after the alpha had bought the place, and little of the original floor plan remained. Walls had been taken out and a few pillars put in where needed. A counter was fixed to the wall on one side, with coffee, tea, donuts, and raw steaks in case someone attended in wolf form. The majority of the area was taken up by a large dark-wood table and matching chairs. Most of the chairs were taken already.
At the head of the table sat the alpha, Roger Creek, his enforcers on either side. Enforcers was perhaps a strong word, since the pack was the most democratic Snow had ever been a member of, but there was no point taking stupid risks, he guessed.
Creek smiled as Snow and June took their seats, and held his arms out. “The family is here. Grant sends his apologies. Apparently he and his man are in Aruba. I told him to bring back something nice for us all.”
Chuckles rippled around the room and Snow relaxed in his chair while it subsided. June sat to his left and squeezed his thigh. He smirked and batted it away, and she feigned a pout.
“So,” Creek said as he stood. “Let’s start by welcoming our latest members.” He gestured to two nervous-looking men sat at the other end of the table. “We’re very laid back, here, so if you have any questions you can approach anyone with them. None of that hierarchy stuff unless it’s strictly necessary. Introductions?”
One by one, each of the shifters stood and introduced themselves to the new men and told them a little about themselves before sitting again. Snow was last, and a couple of the older members smirked as he stood and turned to face the newbies.
“I’m Snow.” He pointed at his hair. “You can probably guess why. Both of you have already met me, since I brought you into the pack in the first place, so I’ll make it quick. Yes, I’m English, and yes, I sound like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. No, I have never met the queen. I did, however, once sleep with one of her footmen. I think his name was Gerald.”
The shifters, new and old, chuckled, and he sat again.
“So, Snow,” Creek said. “How is the recruitment drive coming along?”
“Slowly. Despite the attacks, many are still unwilling to join a pack. It’s frustrating, but I’m not planning on giving up.”
“I’m glad. Is there anything the pack can do to make things easier?”
Snow shook his head. “Most of them are pack-less because of bad experiences or a lack of trust in groups. If we tried anything other than a one-on-one approach, I think it would make things worse.”
In the past few months, several unaffiliated shifters had been attacked by witches, often working with regular humans. Nobody had been killed yet, but it was only a matter of time. Recently Snow had worked with another shifter to put one of the witches down, but that had only resulted in a lull in the attacks, not a ceasing. Ever since, he’d been working hard to recruit shifters to the pack. He’d ever sent a couple of shifters to the other big pack in the area. Rather that than have them alone.
The conversation moved to more mundane matters, including changing the location numbers again. Each member was handed a sheet of paper, which they memorized and then burned. After that they discussed the purchase of a new property, then moved on to personal matters that might have an effect on the pack.
Finished, Creek ended the meeting, then gestured to Snow.
“Mind if I give the new members your phone number? In case they need to ask something.”
“No problem. In fact I think one already has it.”
“Excellent.” Creek grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “How are the other guys handling things?”
By “other guys,” he meant the other big pack in the area. “About the same as us.”
“Are they recruiting?”
“Yes, but only wolves.” Snow rolled his eyes. “That alpha of theirs is an arse.”
“Indeed. As long as he’s doing his part, though, I suppose we can’t complain.”
An advantage to the troubles lately was that the two packs had come to a ceasefire. They hadn’t exactly been enemies beforehand, but now they were practically best buddies.
“Anyway,” Creek said. “I have to go. Errands to run. Will you close up the shop for me?”
Snow took the keys and dropped into a seat while the rest filtered out and headed back to their lives. A few milled around, and Snow was happy enough to let them chat. He had nowhere to be, anyway. Soon enough he was alone in the shop. As he stood to leave, he caught a hushed conversation coming from the rear of the store. The two new shifters were talking. Given that they hadn’t earned Snow’s complete trust yet, he listened.
“…heard about the guy who recruited us?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard he’s the guy they use when they need to get information out of people, if you know what I mean.”
“Really? He looks so laidback.”
“Maybe that’s an act. I also heard he has reactions like lightning, and he doesn’t feel pain when he shifts. Like zero pain.”
“None at all? How the hell is that possible?”
“Believe me,” Snow called out, “the benefits do not outweigh the cost.”
The shifters fell silent and moments later he heard them drive away. He shook his head and chuckled. Shifters could be every bit as gossipy as regular humans. The rumors were true, though, so he had no intention of correcting them. His comment had also been true, though. The smile faded as memories began to circle. The kind of memories that occasionally woke him up in the middle of the night and stopped him getting back to sleep for a couple of days.
With a sigh he stood and forced the lazy smile back onto his lips. Sometimes, it really was an act.
Table
of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
Chapter Two
The night arrived, bringing cooler air and a threat of rain with it. The drop in temperature was much appreciated by Bernie, and the rain wouldn’t matter because every gay bar he knew had a roof. He cranked the volume on his stereo so he could hear it over the shower and began to undress.
He hadn’t been to a bar since Steve had left, but tonight was the night. As soon as the card had been sent, he’d felt a sense of closure. It was time to move on. Or at the very least get laid.
The water of the shower was pleasantly cool, and served to remove the last of the day’s accumulated sweat. He stood under the water and let out a long breath as he soaped up. He was more nervous than he’d been in a long time, but it would fade with the first drink. Not that he intended to get drunk—illicit sex was no fun unless you remembered it—but a beer or two would soften the edges and get him in the right mood.
His music suddenly disappeared, and he realized that he’d been singing along. Loudly. He stopped and chuckled.