Chapter 3 Three

Alpha werewolf, she identified immediately.Something in the magic of the wolves ensured that he was always heard and obeyed by the person he intended to hear him, whether they were wolf or human, it did not matter, as long as they were less dominant than he.

He was gorgeous in a very masculine way, with his shiny, brunette curls overgrown and tumbling into his golden-brown eyes, and the stubble of several days' growth combined with the tattoos that curled up his neck gave him a dangerous edge.He filled his t-shirt exceptionally well, the fabric stretched over broad shoulders and fabulous biceps.His long, muscled legs were well displayed in the well-worn jeans he wore, and his boots were of an expensive make, but scarred with wear.Whatever he did for a living, it was physical work.

She would bet that he made an impressive wolf.He made an impressive man.

The magic book handed down by the women in her family stated very politely that werewolves had a strong animal magnetism.Reading it and experiencing it, however, were very different things, she thought ruefully as she felt her pulse pick up, and her skin heat.

His lips were perfectly balanced, the line and swell of them sensual, and she had a sudden urge to taste them.Instinct told her he would kiss well, and the image of his mouth on hers and her fingers in his hair had her biting her lip against a rush of lust.

Werewolves could also detect a body's chemical and physical response to stimuli she remembered and felt a flush crawl up her neck.His aftershave, with notes of citrus and lavender, had her stomach curling with desire and that he would be able to smell it on her was just plain embarrassing.

Get a hold of yourself Lia.

"Yes, you are my first.Table, I mean," she babbled, and tried to withdraw hoping that the layers of aftershave, alcohol, and the sweat of the dancer on stage would disguise her reaction to him.

"What is your name?" His voice held her.She was sure that the drag of her breath was audible to his wolf-keen ears above the music of the show on stage, the sound somewhere between fear and want.She was also sure that her underwear was soaked, and she clenched her thighs against the throb that his deep voice sent through her body.

"Lia." She hoped he would let her go, or she would be in trouble before she even managed to serve another table, or, even worse, she might succumb to the demands of her body and do something completely out of character for her, like crawl onto his lap and wrap herself around him.

"I am Raiden," he told her, and then selected a beer and leaned back in his chair.

"Nice to meet you." She hurried back to the bar with her tray, the flight of prey from a predator, she thought, her heart pounding.Animal magnetism was an understatement.The man was like her own personal walking fantasy made flesh and blood.She would be running the battery of her vibrator flat thinking of him when she went home, she thought trying to inject some humor into the exchange.

"He is so hot," Paris said to her as she passed with a full tray, saying out loud what Lia was thinking."Raiden, that is.He is a regular.One of Brock's crowd."

Brock had quickly become a fixture in Paris' life, whisking her away once dance was done for the day and either returning her late at night or early in the morning.Often Paris snuck him into the house, and out by morning, mindful of Lia's privacy.It made sense, Lia thought, of how quick and hard Paris had fallen - if Brock was with Raiden, then he must also be a werewolf.She wondered which of the men at table four he was and whether he planned on turning her friend at the next full moon.

Lia had been woken after midnight the night before by the roar of motorbikes pulling up out front of the house she shared with Paris and had watched from her window as Paris exchanged lingering kisses with her boyfriend in the soft glow of the streetlights, their breath misting in the chill of the night.

There had been two other bikes, and she could have sworn that one of the helmeted figures had watched her back, his face lost behind the glossy face shield.His leather jacket had hugged broad shoulders and lean waist and bunched on the muscles of his arms.She had returned to bed once Paris had not-so-quietly snuck inside the house and down the hall to the stairs and imagined the man behind the mystery of that helmet to the gentle buzz of her vibrator.

She wondered, now, if that man had been Raiden and her pulse raced thinking that she had been dreaming of the werewolf before she had even seen his face.

Lia did not have the opportunity to reply to Paris as there was another tray waiting at the bar.She picked it up.Table one.Her path took her past table four, and Raiden, who nursed his beer and watched her as she walked towards him, his expression thoughtful.

Do not look at the incredibly sexy werewolf, Lia, she told herself sternly.Despite her self-talk, she met his eyes as she passed and half expected him to stop her again from the way that he was watching her, but he let her pass without interruption.She approached the VIP booth against the back wall scolding herself mentally.

The men within the booth stopped speaking as she approached with the tray.Vampires, she thought with alarm and embarrassment, because their sense of smell was just as strong as the werewolves' and she knew she would simply reek of desire courtesy of the werewolf whose eyes she could still feel against her back.

What sort of club was this, that it had werewolves as regulars and vampires in the VIP section? She avoided looking at them, knowing that a blush was creeping up her cheeks as she placed the tray onto the table surface and offloaded the carafe of red wine and glasses, collecting up the dirty glasses on the table though she noticed that they were almost all untouched.

"You are new."

She looked up involuntarily.The man that had spoken was another spectacular example of masculinity.

He would not have looked out of place smouldering on a billboard advertising aftershave, his grey eyes striking against the dark hair that he had pulled back into a ponytail bound by a leather strap low on his neck, and his cheekbones high and sharp.

He wore an immaculate and expensive suit in charcoal, and a gold signet ring on his right ring finger.The ring told her that he had been born a vampire, from one of the older lines and it fit, she thought, there was something aristocratic in his bone structure and the way he held himself, the sort of refinement bred into a person over generations of privilege.

"Yes, just starting tonight," she dropped her eyes realizing she was staring far more than a normal human would do.

"What is your name?"

Was every table going to require a personal introduction? "Lia."

"I am Elior, the owner," the man told her.

"Oh," she glanced up at him again."Hello.Paris said you needed…"

"Yes," he narrowed his eyes as he evaluated her much as if he were purchasing her, which, she supposed, he was in a way."I am grateful you were able to step in on such short notice, Lia.Are you finding your way around?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good."

It was a dismissal, and she stepped away with her tray, meeting Paris' eyes as they crossed paths again.Paris raised her eyebrows.Lia shrugged as she retrieved the next tray.She delivered it to the table and made her way back through the room, aware that she was watched both by Raiden and Elior as she did so.

Being the subject of such scrutiny made her nervous.Elior, she thought, watched to evaluate her potential as an employee.Raiden, on the other hand, probably watched her as a result of her betraying physical reaction.She wondered what the werewolf thought of it, or whether women frequently melted around him, and it was nothing out of the ordinary for his day.

"Hey," a man grabbed her wrist as she passed with her next tray.She checked the number on his table.

"Oh, sorry sir," she told him pulling back against his grip instinctually reacting to the expression on his face."This is for table ten, not your table."

"I know," his grin was the disagreeable vulpine smirk of a man used to taking advantage of those weaker than himself."Are you a dancer?"

"A dancer?" She repeated, glancing to the stage where a pole dancer currently proved her upper body strength in a seemingly impossible pose.

She looked back at the man.He was dressed in a suit.Had he recognized her from school? There were many people of his kind that sponsored her dance academy and held season tickets and she had a moment of fear that he had identified her from there.

"No." She decided that denial was the best response.

"Are you sure? You look like a dancer," he tried to tuck a twenty-dollar bill into the top of her stocking as he tugged her towards him, his hand quickly moving from stocking to higher.His friends burst into laughter when she tried to squirm away from his groping hand, protesting against his groping.

"No.I am not.Let go," she struggled not the spill the drinks on the tray, escape his grip, and avoid his roving other hand at the same time.

"Release her," Raiden's hand clamped on the man's wrist, hard, jerking his hand away from her thigh and lifting the man out his seat as if he weighed nothing.The twenty-dollar bill drifted to the floor."You do not touch the girls." He growled the words out, the flash of the Other in his eyes as he lifted the man to eye-level, the alpha command ringing in his tone so that the man could not look away.

"Hey," the suit shrunk under his gaze.He was mankind and did not know the truth of what he faced, but he knew enough to recognize an alpha and someone who was not intimidated by his suit."You are hurting me."

His friends were suddenly not so amused.

"Do not touch," Raiden growled again and dropped the man back into his seat.He leaned over, scooping up the twenty, and placed it on Lia's tray."Yours," he said to her.

"Thanks," she was breathless from the suit's attack, and Raiden's display of strength.The werewolf stood so close to her that she imagined that she could feel the heat of his body on her skin.She moved on to table ten, delivering the drinks, and almost bumped into Elior when she turned.

"You are unharmed?" He asked coolly, his grey eyes holding hers.The Other flashed red in the depths of his pupils.

In almost nineteen years, she had never had cause to be this close to either werewolves or vampires, and here, in one night, she had somehow drawn the attention of both.Her grandmother would have told her to leave, right away, and not to come back.But her grandmother had also hidden in her house with almost paranoid agoraphobia for the majority of her adult life and feared wingless monsters that she had never seen but that she had believe persecuted her family.The Wingless, she had called them.

Lia felt a flutter of fear that the vampire intended to fire her for the disruption to the club.She needed the work.She needed to supplement her trust fund with an income.Unlike her grandmother she had neither the means, nor the inclination, to stay inside her house like a prisoner.

"Yes.Fine, thank you."

"They will be escorted out," he nodded to someone over her shoulder, and she saw another Vampire lean over the table of men and say something quietly.The men rose with shame-faced meekness and filed out, leaving a generous tip on the table."And will not be permitted entry again.We do not tolerate that sort of behaviour."

He smelled wonderful, of rosewood and patchouli.For the second time that night, she felt her body betray her.What was wrong with me? She scolded herself.Nineteen years with little interest in men, and in one night, she was getting turned on by werewolves and vampires, the latter of which was her boss.

"Oh," she was flustered by her reaction to him."Well… That is good.Thank you."

He turned back to the booth, and she clutched her tray to her chest as she made her way back to the bar.Her heart was a frantic rhythm in her chest, and she knew that the werewolves and vampires would be able to hear it, as well as smell the fear and desire on her.She also knew that the betraying body signals were appealing to both groups of others, stimulating their predator response.

She was not surprised to find the entire table of werewolves watching her, the Other flashing golden in multiple eyes.Raiden's expression was tense – he knew what Elior was, Lia thought, and was alert in response.Was the werewolf protective of her? Because Paris was dating Brock, perhaps? Or because he was attracted to her? Lia hardly dared to finish the thought.Her grandmother would scold her for where her thoughts had turned.It would be unwise to get involved in the Other world, even for a sexy werewolf with golden-brown eyes like the kind-eyed boy she remembered from the car crash.

"Are you alright?" Paris murmured as she joined her at the bar.

"Yes, a little…" She held her hand out and showed that she shook."I will be alright," she sighed it out.Predators all around, Lia, she told herself, human and Other both.

"Elior likes you."

"Oh, good." She was not sure if that was a good thing.What did the book say about Vampires, again? Hypnotic appeal rang a bell and blood addiction.She would have to look it up when she got home…

"And Raiden has not taken his eyes off you all evening," Paris added."He is looking at you right now."

Lia knew that.She could feel his eyes like the touch of a lover.