Freelance: Mercenary Shifters (Mercenaries For Hire Book 1) Read online

  My mother said the agency had messed up the meet and greet. So my parents were presented with me when it should have been a shifter baby, who had been taken to see the human parents. My mother said she fell deeply in love with me, and her bear agreed. There was no parting a mother bear from her child, so the agency conceded.

  “I gotta go. Bonnie just got back, and we were going to go out for dinner.”

  “Think about what I said, Eden.”

  “I will, Daddy. I love you, and tell Mom I love her, too.”

  Bonnie sat across from me with her eyebrows raised as I tapped to end the call.

  “What?”

  She glanced over at the door then back at me.

  “Why’d use me as an excuse? He’s my Alpha, too, you know. I have to answer him truthfully to anything he asks.”

  “I know.” And guilt started to bite at me again. Bonnie had been my friend since we were five years old, but she was more than that. Because she was a bear-shifter she could handle her stuff. She wasn’t someone to mess around with, and my father hadn’t just sent her along with me because of our friendship, but because he trusted her with my life. This also meant she had to report to him when he asked.

  “It’s okay.” She smiled brightly, her teeth gleaming in the light of our apartment.

  I hated to admit it, but we needed my father’s help to keep our place. We had both graduated from university, but our jobs had been in the compound. We were still finding our feet out here.

  “I know how you can make it up to me.”

  I didn’t like it when she smiled like that.

  ***

  Yup, I was right. I knew I wouldn’t like when she smiled at me like she did. It was a predatory smile that meant she had something up her sleeve. My cheeks were puffed with air as we stood in line to get into a hot new shifters club. Or bar? It was called Lucky’s and the line was long. When Bonnie bounced in her higher than high heels, I glanced down at my flat feet.

  Bonnie had tried to convince me to wear high heels … well, shorter heels than hers but still high heels. I politely declined. I owed her for throwing her under the bus when it came to my father. But she might have been blowing it a bit out of proportion. As much as I called her a friend, she knew how to take advantage of me. I shifted my weight, my right leg bending at the knee while the left went rid-rod straight.

  “Glad you agreed to come with me.” Bonnie winked.

  She wasn’t technically allowed to leave me alone. It was one of the rules my father had when I said I wanted to move out. Bonnie was excited to be away from the shifters she had known her whole life. I was excited to have an idea of freedom.

  I wanted to mutter that I didn’t have much of a choice since she was the one who guilted me into coming in the first place. However, I bit my tongue in order to hold in my tiny bit of resentment. I shouldn’t be mad. Bonnie had lived in the same compound as me, and she was just as stifled. She was excited; she was willing to explore, wanted to have fun. I was the one who held her back.

  The line moved forward and the bouncer came into view. He was giant, a thick barrel chest, with a closely shaved head. For all intents and purposes he was downright intimating, and yet his eyes roamed over the line with softness to them. Catching his gaze, Bonnie plastered on her best smile. His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath.

  Shifter then. It didn’t surprise me. While Lucky’s was meant for shifters in the first place, the line was filled with more humans than shifters. Most of the women who were wearing far too little clothing shivered in the chilly night air. It wasn’t even that cold yet, and Bonnie who was wearing just as little didn’t even seem fazed. He nodded to us and tilted his chin to the doorway. Grabbing my hand, Bonnie ushered me to follow her up to the front of the line.

  “Thanks for looking out,” Bonnie said, grasping his bicep before heading into the club. I ducked my head, embarrassed that we cut and that my friend had just openly flirted with the semi-terrifying shifter. Bonnie didn’t have much to fear, though; she was an apex predator, and she could handle her own. It was something I was very used to, considering the people I had lived with for my entire life.

  The club was stifling. Inside it was drastically hotter than it was outside. My glasses started to fog up, and I puffed my cheeks with air, releasing it with an annoyed breath. Removing the chunky black frames, I cleaned them with my shirt. Sure it was frowned upon … okay, totally not what I was supposed to do, but I didn’t have my cleaning supplies with me. The world around me was a blurred mess unless it was three feet away from me, and even then it was hard to see distinct features. I should have worn my contacts, but I rarely liked to wear them.

  Placing my glasses back on the bridge of my nose, I scanned the room. Bonnie was draped over the industrial style bar. It appeared to be made out of sheet metal, and the countertops were poured concrete. The outside of the bar looked like a worn down warehouse. Inside it had been renovated with shiny new floors that stuck with the entire industrial style. There were large pillars made of wood, which some girls had their backs to as a man crowded them, teasing their hair.

  The dance floor was filled with writhing bodies, some far too close to be in public. The music thrummed but it felt lost among the crowds. If Lucky’s was meant to be a shifter club, it would make sense the music wasn’t as cranked as a regular club. Shifters had heightened senses, and if music at a regular club made me want to rip out my own eardrums, I imagined it was so much worse for them.

  Bonnie took the shot she ordered from the bartender, slammed it back, and slid the glass back to the beautiful woman behind the bar. The girl raised a brow but gave her another. Weaving my way through the mass of bodies, and with the minimal light of the club, I made it to my friend. She was already on her fourth shot and hadn’t even started to waver. Another fun thing for shifters. One of those little shots and I would be tipsy and wobbling. Not Bonnie.

  Bonnie twisted her body around, her hand trailing up her lithe body as she took in the crowd. Her animal was shining through her brightly lit eyes. I could see the hunger-filling gaze. I swallowed.

  I might be going home alone tonight.

  “Hey there, gorgeous.” A deep timber came behind me. I craned my neck to peer up at the tall, beefy man whose eyes were pinned on Bonnie’s trailing hand. She smiled brightly; thankfully fangs were put away.

  “Hey there, stud,” she answered in her sultry tone that I was convinced she practiced. How could she be such a natural at being sensual? The man offered his hand around me, and Bonnie fluttered her lashes as she took it.

  Oh joy. I loved the club.

  Taking the stool at the bar, I pulled out my phone. I opened my Kindle app and started to read the book I had abandoned for our night out. The empty noises of the club drifted away, the smell of sex and bad body odor dissipated. For a good amount of time, I was on a barren planet with sexy aliens and kickass heroines.

  “Your friend looks like she needs to leave,” a voice said, breaking me out of my trace.

  I blinked a couple times, trying to situate myself. The pretty bartender was there, her red hair and green eyes shone under the bright lights from the ceiling above the bar.

  “Huh?”

  She pointed past me and into the crowd. Bonnie was swaying, but not in a sexy way anymore. She slapped her hand over her mouth as she laughed uncontrollably.

  “She had about five more strong shots. Maybe take her home?”

  The bartender didn’t say it meanly; she seemed genuinely concerned. Easy for her to say. She didn’t have to drag a drunk bear shifter home. I closed up my app with a sad sigh. This probably wasn’t the best place to lose myself into a book.

  I hopped off the uncomfortable stool.

  The crowds had slimmed down since we arrived. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I saw that most of the people left were moving about as lazily and uncoordinated as Bonnie was. The stud she had been dancing with had been replaced. The guy was tall, slim, and his e
yes were cold. I shivered looking at them.

  “Bonnie.” I tugged on the hem of her shirt. She whipped around, throwing her arm around my shoulders.

  “Chris, this is my girl. The one I was telling you about.”

  He gave me an appraising look.

  “She is nice, but I still would like to take you home.” His eyes were still on me, though.

  “We are going home without company,” I said sternly, wrapping my arm around Bonnie’s trim waist. As I pulled her toward the exit, she wobbled with me, giggling. She threw me off balance when she attempted to wave good-bye to the man she left on the dancefloor. We tilted to the left where she corrected herself then me before I could take a nosedive between her boobs. My ankle rolled, and I hissed at the pain.

  “You,” hiccup, “should watch yourself,” hiccup, “you’re a bit unbalanced there, babe.”

  Pressing my lips together, I patted her on the back. “Good thing I got you.”

  She hugged me close, snuggling her nose into my hair. A lot of bear shifters did it—I wasn’t sure if it was a bear thing or a shifter thing. Either way, the tension in Bonnie’s body melted away.

  “I was worried you didn’t have fun. You know …” she drifted off.

  “Let’s get a cab and get you home.”

  We stepped outside of the club. The night air was chilly, and the stars were high and bright in the sky. Would it be too late for us to get a cab? I worried my bottom lip as I held onto Bonnie, knowing I wouldn’t able to drag her to our apartment which was a couple blocks away. The bouncer still sat on the stool outside. Taking one look at us, he stepped to the curb. With a wave of his hand, a cab came up in front of him.

  “You girls get home.”

  “Thank you so much!” I felt the urge to reach out and give him a hug. Living on the compound with shifters all the time made me partial to their habits, and I was very touchy feely.

  “No problem.”

  “Thankz youu, smexy shifttterrrr.”

  My eyes went wide with mortification for my friend. Reaching up, she petted his arm. He didn’t seem offended at all, just offered us another smile and helped me get Bonnie into the cab. I was thankful for his help and waved to him once we were settled into the cab.

  Bonnie dozed off during the short trip to our apartment. When we arrived, I woke her with a gentle shake of her shoulder. She was still half asleep, but that was better than drunk as a skunk. Luckily, she came with me and didn’t have to lean too heavily on me as we climbed the stairs to our loft. At our doorway she leaned against the frame as I unlocked the door. I glanced at my oldest friend. Her tanned face was smoothed with an innocence, but it was erased when she became alert. Any anger I felt melted away. She had a sheltered life just as I did, and eventually we would have to return to the compound. Women bear shifters were rare as it was. This was her time to really get to be free from our family responsibilities.

  “Thank you, Eden. I know you don’t like these sorts of things,” she whispered, eyes still shut.

  “Anything for you, Bon-Bon.”

  She snorted loudly as I opened the door and tumbled inside.

  “I’m off to bed … if I can find it.” She staggered in the right direction, and when she found the latch to her bedroom, I left to go to my own room.

  I brushed my teeth and cleaned my face before bouncing into bed with my phone already glowing with the book I had to leave earlier. Snuggling under my covers, I held the phone close to my nose as I picked up where I left off.

  Chapter 3

  Dominic

  Lucky’s. Who the fuck named their club, Lucky’s?

  My lips peeled back in an annoyed sneer. Did others think going to a club name Lucky’s would get them lucky? I rolled my eyes.

  Perhaps it was more frustration than annoyance at this point. Resorting to using my hand to ease the pain in my pants before I left to scope out the clubs had left me feeling unsatisfied. The scent that had haunted me from my truck left me deliriously hungry for flesh: a hot, welcoming body.

  Reaching down, I palmed my junk, readjusting myself. Yeah, jacking off didn’t fucking help.

  The line to the club was nonexistent. The bouncer—a shifter from the smell of him—nodded to me, allowing my entrance. I stepped inside and immediately regretted it.

  That fucking scent.

  Like a lurking ghost, it followed me here, too. Shaking my head, I stalked over to the sheet metal bar and raised a brow. A redhead with forest green eyes lifted her head. Her nostrils flared, and she gave me the once over. Seeming satisfied with what she saw, she sauntered over to me.

  “What brings you by, stranger?”

  “Hmm, familiar with your patrons?” I asked, dropping my voice down to a seductive whisper. She moved a little closer, her low cut top presenting me with a generous view of her assets. She leaned her arm in front, but not hiding them away. It was more of a display to catch my attention. And oddly enough, my dick that had been awake and alert for the past twenty-four fucking hours, dropped like lead.

  Stifling my surprise, I kept my focus on the bartender in front of me.

  “Hon, I’m just a bartender.”

  I gauged her. Her scent was shifter, hints of fur and animal in her otherwise feminine scent. I believed her when she said she was just a bartender. But they happened to be some of the best people to get information from. Half their job was meant to be a fly on the wall … there, but not really. Slipping a couple twenties from my pocket, I pressed them to the palm of my hand and reached over to her fisted hand.

  “I wasn’t looking for anything more than some information.”

  She pulled her hand back, taking the money subtly and quietly. She took a step backward and crossed her arms under her breasts, accentuating them once again. From her standoffish attitude, she wasn’t coming on to me anymore. Nope, purely business now.

  “Your girl cheating on you?” She hooked a brow. Her name plate, pinned above her collar bone, shone in the light.

  “Not my girl, Mazy. I don’t have one.”

  She pursed her lips, still not taking the bait. I don’t even know why I was trying to bait her. My dick wasn’t coming alive at her obvious sexual display. The hints of that scent still teased my nose. Whoever the scent belonged to, she had been here.

  “How unfortunate for you.”

  “Just looking out for my buddy. His girl, Eden, average height, blonde hair, frequents here. He was worried that she might be cheating on him. You know how humans are, so fickle.” I let my animal push forward just enough to let my eyes burn with him shining through.

  Mazy stepped back again.

  “I see a lot of blondes in here. Lot of humans as well. Might want to tell your friend if he suspects she is cheating, ask her. Women are very honest like that,” she stated, her tone growing bitter. Time for me to leave.

  “Well, Mazy, it was nice talking to you. And if you happen to see my friend’s girl, give me a call.” I set down a blank business card with my burner’s number scrawled on it. She glared up to me then back to the number. With a wink, I turned to head out, but not before that scent hit me once more.

  Fuck …

  Now I had to walk home with another fucking boner. And no relief in sight.

  ***

  My skin felt tight.

  My wings wanted out.

  And my fucking dick was hard, again.

  That fucking tantalizing scent that had been distracting me for the last couple of days was back. Flaunting in its unattainableness. If I could just find the owner of the scent.

  I tried to focus on the task at hand. I had a job to do. One that was paying handsomely, and I wasn’t going to let a scent throw me. I wasn’t some inexperienced whelp. Not even the tightness of my pants could deter me from my mark. Business first. Pleasure later. There’s always time for pleasure, later.

  I shook my head. My jacket snapped in the wind.

  Concentrate.

  Normally it wasn’t this hard for me to shake ev
en the lustiest of scents. Tonight was for a different girl, and she would not be enjoying my company. And as soon as she was free of mine, I’d be happier.

  I was very good at my job. Fucking amazing, actually.

  I was known for my skills. These were hardly necessary in the deserted streets, but I knew the clubs would be closing soon. My client told me exactly where I would be finding my prize tonight.

  I had been doing my own intel the night before, when the scent had appeared in my truck and at the club. Fucking with me. Reminding me once again that tonight I’d be alone without warm flesh against mine.

  I rotated my shoulders as I moved forward. My holster scraped the underside of my arm. I don’t normally carry human weapons; I believe in my own claws. The problem is, in such crowded places, I don’t want to draw too much attention. Shifters have been exposed, as humans like to say, for almost a half a century. But I’m not an everyday sort of shifter.

  Even most of my clients only know that I am rare, nothing more. My current client, however, is new. Mercenaries I know hadn’t even heard of him. But he contacted me with the usual protocol, and nothing seemed too odd about the job until he told me more about my mark.

  From all appearances she was nothing more than a twenty-something party girl. But there was a vagueness about her past that kept me wondering. She was either utterly boring or someone was taking great lengths to keep her past under wraps. Not that I gave a fuck as long as they paid well. And damn were they willing to pay top dollar. I had done kidnappings before, they weren’t new to me, but this type of mark was. I should have probably asked for more information, but that is the best fucking part about hiring me. I don’t ask questions.