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  The witch knelt in front of him, taking his head in her hands, still pretending like she had nothing to do with his canine condition. “You’re a mess, big guy. Do you have an owner around here anywhere?”

  He blew out a hard breath through his nose. Was this woman serious? A witch knew better than to treat a werewolf like a house pet. Unless she thought her spell bound the man altogether… He might be able to use this to his advantage.

  Her brow furrowed as she looked him over, running her hands along his neck and shoulders. “What are you? Some kind of German shepherd mix? You look a little bit like a coyote, but you’re way too tame to be a wild animal.”

  Oh, he’d show her wild. As soon as he found his missing friend, this witch would be wishing she never messed with the red wolf pack.

  She glanced around the empty sidewalk and leaned toward his ear. “You’re not a werewolf, are you? One of those bit me a few nights ago, and my arm’s been throbbing ever since.”

  As if she didn’t know. What game was this woman playing?

  “You didn’t happen to see a big guy with a sexy beard walk by a few minutes ago, did you?” She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “I should be so lucky.” Rising to her feet, she rested her hands on her hips and gave him a curious look. “I’m probably going to regret this, but I think I’ll take you home with me. We can get you cleaned up and then look online to see if anyone’s missing you. What do you think?”

  This could be his chance. If she took him into her home in wolf form, with his heightened senses, he’d be able to sniff out his missing packmate. Then, with Jackson’s help, they could subdue her, powerful magic or not, and get her to lift the spell before his pack broke the truce with the witches and started a war.

  He followed her back toward the coffee shop and into a side entrance of the building, where she stopped at the foot of a staircase.

  She glanced up the steps and down at him, her eyes calculating. “What do you weigh, boy? About sixty or seventy pounds? I can’t have you tracking mud through the place.”

  He backed up. Was she seriously considering carrying him?

  Squatting, she scooped him into her arms and rose to her feet, letting out a little grunt on the way up. “It’s a good thing I work out,” she said, her voice strained.

  She struggled up the stairs, and Trace did his best to remain still, ignoring the humiliation of being carried. He wasn’t about to ruin his chance at getting inside the enemy’s lair.

  She set him on the landing to tug a key from her pocket and open the door before scooping him up again and carrying him inside.

  She marched through the living room, and he noted a door leading to a balcony as well as an archway that probably led to the kitchen. As they entered her bedroom, she made a sharp left straight into the bathroom, depositing him in the tub. A closet door stood closed against the far wall, but he didn’t get a good enough look at the bedroom to determine any other openings that could lead to his friend.

  He sat on his haunches, watching as she regarded her soiled shirt in the mirror. She frowned and sighed, and he started to feel a little bad for ruining her clothes. Evil witch or not, he couldn’t deny the effect she had on him. His wolf wanted to please her. Hell, she’d have the beast rolling over and eating from her hand if the man didn’t hold on to control.

  She had a calming effect, which was why she was able to wrangle so many alphas on leashes earlier today. The man in him found her drop-dead gorgeous, which set off warning sirens in his mind. If he wasn’t careful, she’d have both man and beast entranced with her magic, and he’d never accomplish his mission.

  Turning on the water, she dropped to her knees beside the tub and grabbed a large plastic cup from a shelf. Holding her good wrist under the stream, she heated the water and then filled the cup, dumping the contents over his fur until he was sopping wet.

  She squirted some flowery-smelling shampoo onto his back, and while he wanted to protest the girly scent, when her fingers dug into his coat, massaging him, he may as well have been a pile of putty on the floor. He didn’t sense her using her powers, but her hands felt like magic.

  He shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much, but technically, he was doing his job. He’d penetrated the enemy’s stronghold, but as she leaned into the tub to wash the mud from his paws, he caught a glimpse of flesh and satin down her shirt, and his mind immediately went to another form of penetration.

  Damn, this woman was gorgeous. And the rustic scent of his magic mixing with the warm cinnamon fragrance of hers created an intoxicating aroma he wanted to wrap himself up in.

  Focus, Trace. He shook his body, hoping to shake the intruding thoughts from his mind, and water flew everywhere, coating the blonde in suds and wetness.

  “Hey, now. That was rude, mister,” she scolded him, but an amused smile curved her lips as she spoke. “Let’s get you rinsed so I can have a turn, okay?” She dumped cups of water over him, and the bubbles spiraled down the drain before she grabbed a fluffy towel and dried his fur. A man could get used to this kind of attention.

  “A beautiful dog like you needs a name. Do you have one?” She held his face and stared into his eyes. “It’s not Rover, is it? You’d be surprised how many people still call their dogs that.”

  He huffed to let her know his name was definitely not Rover, and she laughed. Staring into her blue eyes, he focused his thoughts, pushing his name toward her mind. If she really was a witch with animal-controlling powers, she should pick up on the message. It would explain how the dogs she walked knew exactly where she wanted them to be.

  She narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips. “I suppose I can give you a name.”

  He focused again, sending her his thoughts.

  Her eyes widened. “For some weird reason, I want to call you Trace. It’s not really a dog name, but it fits. What do you think?”

  He licked her nose. Suspicion confirmed.

  “Okay, okay. Come on.” She gestured for him to get out of the tub, and his wolf obeyed before the man could even think about her request.

  Picking up a hairdryer, she held it toward him. “This is going to make some noise, but it’ll be warm, and it’ll help you dry faster. Is it okay if I use this on you?”

  He sniffed it like a good boy and was rewarded with another sweet smile. How could someone this kind and gentle with animals be responsible for the turmoil in his pack? It didn’t make sense.

  With his coat dry and fluffy, and shinier than it had ever been, she released him from the bathroom. He darted from room to room, sniffing the floor and furniture, using his snout to open doors and check out all the closets. Jackson wasn’t here. In fact, even with his heightened sense of smell, he didn’t detect a trace of magic. She must have performed her spells somewhere else.

  Her gaze weighed on his shoulders, and he stopped, cocking his head at her as she stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with her arms crossed. “Are you done?”

  He inched toward her and sat, trying his best to act like a domesticated dog.

  She laughed and scratched behind his ears. “Don’t mark your territory while I’m in the shower, okay?”

  No worries about that. As soon as he accomplished his mission, he’d be getting as far away from this entrancing witch as he could. He jumped onto her bed, expecting her to protest, but she simply smiled again. After turning in a circle, he plopped onto the mattress and rested his head on his paws, his gaze trained on the bathroom door as she closed it behind her.

  Chapter Three

  Sophie cinched the towel around her chest and tousled her damp hair. Wiping the fog from the mirror, she stared at her reflection and sighed. A dog that sweet probably had an owner, and even if he didn’t, he was too big to keep in an apartment.

  Then again, if he got along with her clients, she could walk him three or four times a day. That should be enough exercise, shouldn’t it? Lord knew she could use the companionship. Making friends proved difficult when she had one foot in the supernatura
l world and one in the human. She couldn’t talk about Jane or Ethan, or even Gaston with humans, but she didn’t fit in with the supes either. It was like high school all over again.

  She ran her fingers over the bite mark on her arm, and the wound tingled. Thanks to her BFF’s magical spit, it was healing nicely, but as much as she was averse to sprouting fur, she almost wished she’d turn into a werewolf so she’d belong somewhere. She’d prefer a coven, but being part of a pack might be nice.

  In the meantime, she could make her own pack. As long as Trace didn’t have an owner out there looking for him, the dog would stay.

  She grabbed her lavender-scented deodorant from the shelf, and her vision tunneled. Her head spun, and she squeezed her eyes shut, steadying herself with a hand on the edge of the sink. “Whoa. I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.”

  As she shook her head, the fogginess dissipated, the lightheaded sensation ceasing as quickly as it had begun. She lifted her arm to apply her deodorant, and instead of finding her smooth, freshly-shaven pit, a patch of tan hair occupied the space under her arm.

  “What the hell?” She examined it in the mirror, running her finger over the soft strands. Holy shit. That wasn’t hair. It was fur. A freaking tuft of fur had sprouted in her pit like one of those carpet sample squares on display at Home Depot. She lifted the other arm, and that pit was furry too.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered to her reflection. “I said I almost wished I’d turn into a werewolf. I don’t really want to.” Snatching the razor from its hook in the shower, she shaved the patches of fur, collecting the strands in the sink before wrapping them in a piece of toilet paper.

  Maybe it was a side effect of the bite. Maybe once it healed, this problem would go away. Please let it go away. She stuffed the fur wrapped in toilet paper into the medicine cabinet and closed the mirrored door. Jane would be there soon, and she’d know what to do. Her BFF always had a plan. In less than a year of being undead, Jane had managed to befriend the vampire Magistrate, the highest-ranking bloodsucker in the state. Surely she could find out what the hell was happening with Sophie’s body and how to stop it. Supes were supes, and while they didn’t share their secrets, they all knew each other. Jane could get her in contact with someone who could help.

  Biting her lip, she hesitated to lift her arms again. If the fur had already grown back, she’d have to splurge on laser hair removal at the local medspa.

  Oh no. What if, since she was only part witch, this werewolf gig was only going to affect her underarms? Would lasers even work to remove magic-induced fur?

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she raised her arms above her head and held her breath. She opened one eye, then the other, and a gush of air made her cheeks puff as she exhaled her relief. For the time being, at least, she was fur-free.

  As she opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam wafted into the bedroom. She stepped from the tile to the carpet and froze. As if her armpit ordeal wasn’t enough, there, lying on his side, his knees pulled to his chest, was not the fluffy, rust-colored dog she’d brought home. It was a tall, muscular, totally naked man.

  “Ah!” She dove for the pepper spray in her nightstand drawer. Holding it in her right hand as threateningly as possible, she rocked from foot to foot, her mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening. “Who are you? What have you done with my dog?”

  “Huh?” The man blinked his eyes open and glanced around, disoriented. He held his hands in front of his face and groaned. “Oh, shit.” He slid off the mattress, putting the bed between them, and rose to his feet, his hands lifted in surrender.

  “Who are you?” She waved her weapon, trying to hold a fierce expression as recognition dawned in her mind. She knew exactly who this guy was. “How did you get in here? Where’s my dog?”

  She tried to hold eye contact, but her gaze kept dropping against her will. He had a broad chest with a sprinkling of auburn hair that trailed down the middle of chiseled abs, leading right to his… Oh my. Even flaccid, the man was hung.

  “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He had a deep, rumbly voice that melted as smooth as Velveeta in her ears.

  “You…” She looked into the deep honey-brown of his irises, but her gaze dipped below his waist again, her eyeballs completely ignoring the command from her brain.

  He chuckled and held a pillow in front of himself. “Better?”

  “No, now your dick is on my pillow. I lay my head there at night, you know.” She waved her weapon again, and he laughed.

  “Would you rather I put my dick somewhere else?” Mischief danced in his eyes, and she tried to ignore the flutter in her belly.

  “Are you hitting on me? First you disappear on me at the club, then you stalk me at the coffee shop. You break into my house, climb into my bed buck naked while I’m in the shower, and now you’re hitting on me?”

  “You’re the one waving a dildo around. Who’s hitting on whom?”

  Her eyes widened as she realized she did, in fact, have the vibrator she’d affectionately named Big Blue in her hand. “Dammit.” She snatched the actual can of pepper spray from the drawer and held it toward him. “Don’t come near me. What did you do with Trace?”

  “I am Trace.”

  “Don’t try to be funny, mister. If you hurt that dog, I’ll…”

  He arched a brow. “You know exactly what I am, so stop pretending. Where’s Jackson?”

  “Pretending? You’re the delusional one, breaking into my apartment, rubbing your man bits all over my bed like a…” Her mouth fell open as the voice in the back of her head began shouting. “Like a dog.” She lowered the vibrator and the pepper spray, but kept them clutched tightly just in case. “You’re a werewolf?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “But…you’re so small.”

  He frowned and held the pillow tighter against his groin. “It’s cold in here, and you’re threatening to beat me with pepper spray and a dildo. What do you expect?”

  She dropped the vibrator into the drawer. Big Blue was a lover, not a fighter. “I meant your wolf. I thought you were some kind of German shepherd mix. Aren’t werewolves supposed to be gigantic? They are in Twilight.”

  He grunted. “Don’t even mention that movie. Anyway, I’m a red wolf. We’re smaller than our gray cousins, but we’re no less fierce.”

  The pillow slipped down so she could see the tuft of hair right above his dick, and her tongue involuntarily slipped out to moisten her lips. Damn her body and its inappropriate reactions to finding a strange man in her bed. “Where are your clothes?”

  He pulled up the pillow. “Probably still in the muddy pothole where you forced me to shift.”

  “What on earth are you talking about? Here.” She ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel from a shelf, tossing it to him. “Put that on at least.”

  He dropped the pillow on the bed, completely unashamed—honestly, the man had absolutely nothing to be ashamed about—and wrapped the towel around his waist.

  Sophie swallowed hard, willing her brain to catch up. “What do you mean I forced you to shift? I didn’t even know you were a man.” With his bottom half covered, she finally focused on his face. “Why were you following me?”

  “You’re the witch who kidnapped my friend and cursed my pack.” He crossed his arms.

  “I did no such thing, and I’m not a witch.”

  “I can smell the magic on you.”

  “Oh, really?” She mirrored his posture, still clutching the pepper spray. “What does it smell like?”

  “Cinnamon and cider. Warm.” He inhaled deeply. “Delicious.” His eyes flashed as if he hadn’t meant to say the last part.

  That’s exactly what the vampires said she smelled like, but she still didn’t have any powers. The bite mark throbbed from clutching her arms so tightly, so she dropped them to her sides.

  He looked at the wound and winced. “Have you started exhibiting any canine attributes? Growing fur in strange places or craving raw meat?”<
br />
  “Ew. No.” Raw meat? She would never. “You’re the one who bit me, aren’t you? Gaston said you’d come looking for me. What? You can’t find a mate on your own, so you thought you’d turn a human?” Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but the man had been stalking her.

  His jaw clenched. “If I wanted you as my mate, you’d come to me willingly, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, you’re sure of yourself, aren’t you? How do you know I’m even interested in men?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Your pupils are dilated, for one thing, and you can’t keep your eyes off my dick.”

  She gasped, trying to act offended, but the guy had a point. She may have turned into a bumbling idiot every time she tried to flirt, but she couldn’t deny the attraction.

  “And your hormones make your scent stronger. The whole room smells like wassail and gingerbread cookies, and I can only imagine it’s because you like what you see.” He swept a heated gaze down her body. “The view’s nice from my end too, by the way.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to gather her thoughts. This naked werewolf was making some pretty heavy accusations—kidnapping, cursing—yet all she could think about was yanking that towel from around his waist and seeing what his package looked like fully extended. Get a grip, Soph.

  “So why did you bite me? It was pretty shitty of you to run off, too. You could have at least apologized.”

  He started to answer, but the doorbell rang, and she held up a finger. Finally. “That’ll be Jane. She’ll be able to sort this mess out. Wait here.”

  Sophie padded to the living room and opened the door. “Hey, girl. You’re just in time.”

  Jane’s dark eyes took in Sophie’s state of undress before she peered over her shoulder. “Just in time for what? I’m not having a three-way.” She leaned closer and whispered, “When were you going to tell me you finally found your werewolf? He’s cute. Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”

  “Trace!” Sophie whirled to face him. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”