Contracted: Mercenary Shifters (Mercenaries for Hire Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Contracted

  A Mercenary Novella

  By: Becca Vincenza

  Contracted

  A MERCENARY NOVELLA

  LUCAS AND MAZY

  Mazy’s been paying off a loan shark for several years with no problems. However, an attempt to help a friend lands her in a heap more trouble that’s jeopardizing everything. If she doesn’t make her next payment on time, the gang of shifter slave-traders now after her will be the least of her worries. She needs help, but the last person she wants it from is the sexy Cajun shifter who’s been getting under her skin.

  Lucas has watched Mazy for a long time. Having a chance to bring her home, even under the pretense of protection, is just what the mercenary needs to win her over. Only, she wants nothing to do with him. First chance she gets, she runs, and as he tracks her, he realizes she’s in more trouble than he’d first thought. Nothing will stop him from protecting his mate. Not even her.

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 Becca Vincenza

  Cover done by: Melissa Haag

  Proof Reader: Melanie Williams

  All rights reserved. The book may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The books are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contracted

  CONTRACTED

  Copyright

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  GET CAUGHT UP

  Coming Soon

  STUFF ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Preface

  Hi, the name’s Winnie. I’m going to get you caught up on the events that led us to this lllooovveee story. I was targeted by shifter slave-traders. Unfortunately, my only and best friend at the time, Mazy, was caught in the cross-hairs.

  My mate, Quentin, had me in protection, and his friend, Lucas, a Cajun shifter, took Mazy under his “protection” —if you know what I mean. Wink. Wink.

  So here is where we left off …

  Mazy and Lucas were hidden for their protection from some really bad baddies.

  Chapter 1

  Mazy

  “Mazy! Get your sweet ass back here!”

  I ground my teeth. Annoyance flushed through me at his stupid Cajun accent and his sexy as all get out body. No. No, I was not doing this again with him. My boots clicked against the sidewalk. He’d told me we were in the clear. The shifter slave trader issue was resolved, apparently. So I’d left his hole in the wall bachelor pad. After a week of hiding in fear for my life, home sounded nice.

  “Go away, Lucas!”

  Stupid, annoying mercenary, with a stupid sexy accent, who thought he knew everything. He needed to make himself gone. I shouldn’t have been the one on the run for my life because … well, that wasn’t fair. Once Winnie, my friend from work, had gone missing, and I’d gone looking for her—my whole world had turned upside down.

  Not everyone would consider working at a bar their dream job, but I’d loved it. It had been a home to me, a place where I’d fit in. Sure my shifter wasn’t an apex predator like a lot of the people who worked at or frequented the bar, but that never made me feel unsafe. Until some unsavory men started to use other club members to locate rare shifters. I couldn’t tango with the bigger shifters out there and had known hiding out was the best plan. But being with Lucas, the man my animal claimed was hers … oh, it had been hell. His presence made me want to swoon. I mean, my animal.

  A strong hand wrapped its way around my bicep. It wasn’t a halting touch, but was his touch. It did things to a girl. His blond hair was cropped close on the sides, and the middle styled up and longer. A metal bar pierced through his eyebrow, which brought attention to his eyes … tawny eyes lit brightly with his animal close to the surface. My insides melted with a sweet heat of undisclosed desire.

  My own little mongoose curled up close, eager to see her mate. No. Stop calling him that. He isn’t. Lucas Boudreau was not mate material. He was a ladies’ man through and through. I had watched him swing through my bar with new women at least a couple nights a week.

  “Cher.” The sensual sway of his word and body had my head all jumbled up. He was a hair’s breadth away now, stepping around so he faced my front. A trickle of people walked past, ignoring us.

  Lucas brought his big hand up, and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. His touch was gentle, but it ignited a fire in my belly that I despised. I hated that my animal had claimed him as hers, because the man who stood before me would never be tamed by the likes of me. Possibly no woman could.

  “You said we were safe.” I steeled my voice and spoke to his chin, unable to meet his gaze. His animal was a brawler, and dominant to boot. I couldn’t bring myself to face him. Goodness … how long had it been since my animal claimed him? Probably the first night he came to the club.

  His forehead pressed against mine, and his minty breath fanned against my lips. My body ached for more. Gosh, he was … so close. Lucas made me, at five-feet-eleven, feel tiny. It was so uncommon for me to feel delicate and petite.

  “Oh, cher, you were never safe from me.” A dark mischief thickened his voice.

  Peeking from under my lashes, I caught sight of his tawny eyes that burned bright with his beast. My small predator inside almost let a squeak past my lips. Mate. Mate. Mate. Was he aware of it, too? Oh goodness, could my heart even handle that?

  “Lucas.”

  “Fuck, Mazy.” His lips crashed down on mine. His hands gripped my hips, pulling them tight against his own. Fingers dug into the fleshy parts of my hips, molding me like clay against him. I was his. A gentle sweep of his tongue and my knees gave out. Opening to his demanding but sweet request, his tongue and scent invaded my senses. His left hand skated upward, pressing me flush against his chest.

  He pulled back, nipping at my lips. “My name on your lips is a caress.”

  Unable to look away, I watched as he licked his lips, dragging my taste into his mouth again. Oh … my. A weightlessness touched my extremities, and all I could think was to claim him. Mate him. I pressed my legs tightly together, trying to ignore the friction that had built up from just a kiss. What else could this man do to me with more than a mere kiss?

  “Come home with me, cher.”

  I released my death grip on his bicep and traced the eyebrow piercing that taunted me so desperately. He rarely wore short-sleeves, but the few times he had I saw peeks of tattoos. I wondered how much of his skin was decorated. The thought was energizing. I co
uld learn each one of them … like so many other women had.

  It was the cold bucket of water over my head I needed.

  Retreating, I stole my arm back and wiggled from his carnal hold.

  I shook my head. “I’m not looking for a quickie, Lucas. I want to go home.”

  For a split second I saw hurt pass over his eyes before he steeled himself. Pushing his considerable shoulders back, he tipped up his jaw with a quick nod.

  “Be safe then, cher. You have my number if you need me.”

  “I can’t afford your rates.”

  “You could.” He sized me up when he said it.

  Disgust swamped through me. How dare he say that about me? Oh! Anger pumped in my veins; I wanted to spit at him, claw, and scream. Instead, I reminded myself, and my little beastie, that this is why I would never condone a mating with him. He was a ladies’ man. He knew the sweet words to say to get a girl to go home with him. But he wanted a warm body. Not love.

  “Have a terrible night, Lucas.”

  Waving him off, I walked in the opposite direction of him. I had a great night planned ahead of me. I clutched the strap of my purse which held my measly savings and the key to my dump of an apartment. My job paid well, but between the high cost of living in the city and old debts, I rarely saw any of the money. But tonight I was going to splurge and get a name-brand ice cream. Plus, I would save money by taking a very cold shower when I got home. After the week I had, I might need a very long, cold shower.

  Chapter 2

  Lucas

  Fuck, the sway of her hips as she walked away from me was torture. My beast clawed, ripping me up on the inside. He wanted me to go after the feisty female. He claimed her as his and wanted to show her that. I scrubbed the back of my head with my hand. She lifted her arm in a half wave as she walked away, and I held back a laugh.

  Mazy. My redheaded, fiery, mongoose mate.

  She felt the draw. I knew she did. The way she had swayed into me, and I had felt her desire this whole damned week. I had kept my distance for as long as I could, staying away from Lucky’s, the bar where she worked. But it was owned by one of my only two friends, making it impossible. Fuck, the woman was addicting. I’d sell my left nut—my favorite one—to just listen to her sleep next to me. After a hot fuck, of course. ’Cause that woman was my mate, and she would never go to bed unsatisfied.

  This week had been difficult. Quentin had found his mate, and by finding her, he’d stepped into a whole load of shit. He was a brother in arms, and while mercenaries were known to turn a gun on their best friend for a better payday, Dominic, Quentin, and my relationship was thicker than money. Dom did the jobs because he was bored. He would never admit to it, but I knew. Quentin did it as his own way of rebelling and to show his dominant side. I did it for the money. But I would never turn on my brothers. Family was everything to me.

  Quentin had called and I answered. I knew about Mazy being mine for quite some time, but a woman like that, she deserved better. Yeah, I made sure Mazy saw me with other women, I wanted her to fight for me. Taunting her stopped being fun, though, while my beast was riled up and going home alone every night since meeting her. Fuck, I couldn’t get off without thinking about her, and that wasn’t even half as satisfying.

  Mazy being in the middle of all the crap surrounding Quentin’s mate had been a blessing and a curse. I didn’t want my mate to be in danger, but it brought her just a little closer to me. Quentin had taken his mate out of the city. I didn’t know the exact location, nor did I ask. I had taken Mazy to my place. She wasn’t as involved with the slave traders, but who knows what her former manager, who was working with them, told the others. The industry was still there. We weren’t gods, and certainly not police.

  We watched our own. Mazy was mine—and she had left me in the road.

  A growl built up in my throat. My nostrils flared as I pulled in a deep breath. Her scent left a trail for me to follow. Mazy might have walked away from me, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t make sure she didn’t make it home okay. I followed her trail, thankful for the late night and lack of people around.

  The longer I followed her trail, the farther we went into a more dangerous part of town. My apartment was a loft that had been reconstructed. While it didn’t have curb appeal, at least it was safe. Mazy’s scent led me into a part of the city where the roads were torn up with half-assed patch jobs. The sidewalks were more often cracked than whole. The buildings either had a layer of graffiti or dirt on them.

  My beast snarled at the disarray of her habitat. This is where she had been living? It made no sense. I had watched Mazy. She was very good at accommodating her patrons, and they tipped her very well. Dominic paid her well, too. She should be able to afford better. There had to be more to my little predator than I thought.

  Mazy’s cherry red hair disappeared behind a door that led into an old apartment complex. My instincts told me to go after her, continue on, but instead I waited. Mazy fought our mating, she knew the pull, and she felt it. Something held her back.

  I crossed my legs at the ankle as I watched from the brick building across from hers. Trying to get comfortable, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave for the whole fucking night. That first night having her at my apartment had been the final nail in the coffin. There was no sleeping without Mazy nearby and safe. There was no pleasure without her body. There was no peace without her humor, wit, and intelligence.

  A light flickered on, on the second floor. The windows were barred, but through the small opening I could see her silhouette. Damn, my mate was gorgeous. Her lithe form walked past the window, pulling my body taut. My dick stood at attention already. Shit. My beast roared at just seeing her sweet body.

  My pocket buzzed, dangerously close to my already tight cock. Fuck.

  Buzz.

  I gritted my teeth and pulled out the devil machine.

  “What?”

  “And here I thought you would be happy to hear from me,” Dominic, my brother in arms, a badass dragon shifter that made me look tame, answered. He didn’t call unless absolutely necessary. It didn’t reassure me that he called.

  “Don’t you have a mate to fuck, Dom?”

  “Already done.”

  “Hey!” Eden cried out in the background.

  “Tell her I say hi.”

  Dominic grunted; he wouldn’t. Dominic had been contracted to kidnap his mate almost a half a year ago, and he still had trouble letting any male near her in any way. Personally, I figured it was because of him being alone for so long, even though he would never admit it. He feared that his little human mate would leave him. Dumbass didn’t see how much she loved him.

  “There’s a bounty out for your head.”

  “There always is.” Same with Quentin and Dominic, but most mercenaries knew there wasn’t something quite right about the three of us. And those who were shifters stayed the fuck away.

  “Yeah, but now there is one on your mate.”

  I ended the call with a press of my finger. The death of the flip-phone had been the death of dramatic ending of phone calls. Dominic figured since getting a mate he knew all about pairings and matings. He and I had put a bet on whether Quentin and his mate, Winnie, were actually mates. I won the bet, declaring they were. Dominic didn’t think the gods would be cruel enough to pair those two together. How he knew Mazy and I were … well, that was surprising.

  My muscles strained with the need to shift. Red, hot anger pumped through my body, heating my blood. The beast’s rage grew. Lifting my arms, I hooked my hand behind my head and paced. My gaze went to the window where Mazy had passed by not a few minutes ago. She was in danger now.

  “Merde!” The word tore through me, more beast than man. I vibrated with the need to shift. I rotated my shoulders, trying to ease some of the strain. Nothing worked, and I feared if I didn’t run upstairs and grab Mazy I would lose my mind. I snarled out a hot breath. The beast needed out.

  My chest pressed up and down heavily w
ith puffs of air. I needed to control myself. But when my vision bled red there would be no stopping the beast. With one last glance up to Mazy’s house, I stomped down the way I came. Dominic was pure brawn, Quentin was finances and flash. Me? I knew computers, and I was a brawler.

  First things first, I was taking down the bounty on my mate’s head. Then I was tracking down the motherfuckers who thought they could mess with my mate.

  Chapter 3

  Mazy

  I swallowed the lump in my throat for the fourth time, willing the tears to stop. I didn’t cry! I wasn’t that type of girl, but … oh goodness. My apartment was torn to pieces.

  The small kitchen, that had been the best part of the whole place, was in disarray. Pots, pans, and an old blender I bought at the thrift store down the way were pulled out and smashed against the floor. In the living room, the small TV that I had splurged on was face down on the ground. The tiny shards of the glass scattered on the floor around it. My books were ripped from their safe haven on my bookshelves, and the blue hand-me-down couch had been pulled apart—the cushions were everywhere, their guts littering the floor.

  The tiny living space that opened to the kitchen had given my small apartment a little depth, but it felt like it was closing in on me. My eyes roamed over to the coffee and side tables. My stomach dropped to my toes.

  I ran across the apartment, completely unworried for the glass shards now. I would heal anyway. Where was it? My tears blurred my vision as I went to the spot where the picture should be.

  Oh gods.

  My stomach lurched forward, and I was going to be sick.

  “Mallory …”

  I paid my bills on time. All of them, even the unsavory ones. There was no reason for them to go after her. I worried my bottom lip, fear weighing heavily on my shoulders.

  With another quick sweep of my apartment, I walked toward my door. I had to find out about Mallory.