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The Master Shark's Mate (Fire & Rescue Shifters 5)

Page 47

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“Briefly,” Ivy growled. She reached for the handlebars of Hope’s wheelchair. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Hope spun her wheelchair out of reach with a practiced flick, evading Ivy’s grasp. “Nuh-uh. There’s someone here that you have absolutely got to meet.”

She’s seventeen years old, Ivy thought in despair. And she still has all the survival instincts of a toddler on a sugar high.

“For once in your life, listen to me,” Ivy hissed, her hands sweating in her gloves. “We have to get out of here. Can’t you see what sort of people these are?”

Hope lifted her chin, her jaw setting in a stubborn line. Despite the fact that Hope was thin, blonde, and beautiful, for a moment it was uncannily like looking into a mirror.

“Yes, I can. They’re people who have to cope with powerful, dangerous inner animals, in a world that’s not made for them. People shunned and feared even by other shifters, just because they’re different.” Hope folded her arms across her chest. “Remind you of anyone?”

Ivy clenched her fists, matching her sister’s glare. “I am not like them!”

“But you could be,” said a deep, amused voice from behind Hope.

A tall, broad-shouldered man sauntered out of the crowd. He was wearing tailored black dress pants and a fine white shirt, the top few buttons undone to show off a hint of the deep crease between his hard pecs. Wrap-around designer sunglasses hid his eyes.

“Gaze!” Hope squealed, clapping her hands. “Ivy, this is who I wanted you to meet! Gaze, look, this is my sister!”

“So glad you could join my little party after all, Ivy Viverna.” The man flashed brilliantly white teeth at her. “I’m Gaze Holden.”

“Never heard of you,” Ivy said, eyeballing the distance to the nearest exit.

The man chuckled, not looking in the least offended. “Then I’ve been doing my job right. But in any case, I’ve heard of you. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to meet you for quite some time.”

Out of his sight, Hope was silently mouthing something that looked suspiciously like the words your, true, and mate. She was practically bouncing in her wheelchair, her green eyes alight with excitement.

Ivy repressed the urge to groan out loud. Of all the disastrous attempts Hope had made to set her up, this definitely ranked somewhere in the top five.

For all she knew, of course, Gaze could be her one true mate. Shifters typically didn’t recognize their mate until they made eye contact, and Gaze’s eyes were completely concealed.

Not that it mattered. Finding her true mate was top on Ivy’s list of Things Not To Do. What would be the point, when they could never touch?

Gaze, for his part, seemed to be fascinated by her. His chin dipped a little, as if he was taking her in from head to toe. Even hidden behind his sunglasses, she could feel the heat of his appraisal.

“You are an elusive woman, Ivy. But I very much hope to be seeing more of you in future.” His voice dropped to low, thrilling murmur. “We have so much in common.”

“Yeah, no.” Ivy sidled closer to Hope, trying not to be too obvious about it. “I don’t think so. We’re leaving now.”

“But you’ve only just got here.” Gaze rested a hand on the back of Hope’s wheelchair, and Ivy swallowed the possessive snarl that rose in her throat. “And Hope doesn’t want to leave yet, do you, sweetheart?”

“No way! I haven’t even danced yet, and Betty promised to introduce me to her whole pack!”

Betty? Who the hell is Betty?

Before Ivy could ask, Hope did a transparently fake double-take. “Oh look, there they are now!” She pointed across the room at a group of teens in black leather lurking in a corner. “I’ll just leave you guys to it, shall I? I’m sure you’ll have tons to talk about!”

“Hope!” Ivy made a grab for her, but Hope was too fast. She zoomed away, heedless of the shifters she scattered.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Without waiting for a response, Gaze turned on his heel, starting to stroll away.

Ivy had no choice but to follow. The milling partygoers moved aside for him a lot more willingly for Gaze than they had for Hope. Even the toughest, most brutal-looking gang members gave way to him with respectful murmurs.

Who is this man?

Ivy couldn’t even tell what sort of shifter he was. With the scents of so many different kinds mingling in the air, mixed in with the fumes of mulled wine and the tang of evergreen boughs, it was impossible to get a good whiff of him.

His easy dominance told her one thing, though. Despite the powerful creatures all around—tigers, vipers, wolves, even the hellhounds of the Bad Dogs—Gaze was the most dangerous person in the room.



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