Tall, Dark & Furious (Pyte/Sentinel 6)

“I think it might be for the best,” the man said, clearly determined to see this thing through.

Sighing, she gestured lazily around them. “I work here,” she said, hoping that it would be enough to put an end to this conversation so that she could finish shelving the new books.

“Sure, you do,” he said absently, as he shifted his attention to glance around them, again.

Deciding that she’d had enough for one afternoon, she walked past him, grabbed hold of the old book cart that Mrs. Marshall refused to replace even though it was long past its prime and now completely dependent on duct tape, cardboard, and countless prayers to function, and pushed it towards the next aisle. Ignoring the grinding noise the wheels emitted with the short push, she grabbed a few books off the cart and headed down the next aisle.

“Look,” the man who apparently wasn’t going to drop this so that she could finish putting these books away before she left for the day, said, “why don’t we go see if-”

“I’m not ten. I’m forty-five,” Ashley said, not bothering to look back to see how he was taking the news.

“I see,” he murmured thoughtfully, clearly not buying it.

She could explain that she’d stopped growing when she’d turned ten or that she had a well-known condition that kept her looking like a child, but since she didn’t make a habit of explaining her condition to everyone that gawked at her, she didn’t bother explaining it to him. Instead, Ashley continued placing the rest of the books into their new homes and ignored him until he finally took the hint and walked away.

Once she finished putting the rest of the books that had been donated over the weekend away, she went back to grab that horrible book so that she could make sure that no one else wasted their time reading it only to discover that it was gone. Somewhat depressed that her plans for the night were ruined, Ashley made her way to the back room and punched out, thankful that Mrs. Marshall wasn’t waiting for her with more pictures of her grandchildren.

Grabbing her bag, she headed out the side door and in seconds she was just another body walking along the busy Manhattan streets. She liked living in the city where she could blend in easily with the crowd and just…

Disappear.

For the fifteen minutes that it would take her to walk to her apartment, she was invisible. No one looked at her, gave her a patronizing smile or made her feel like she belonged in a traveling freak show. Those fifteen minute

s twice a day meant the world to her. For those fifteen minutes, she was completely free to pretend that she was just another woman walking home after work.

During these brief walks, she wasn’t a grown woman trapped in a little girl’s body, a thing that didn’t belong in this world or the one that she’d been thrown out of and wasn’t supposed to know about. She was just another person to ignore.

Until she reached her apartment, she was free.

All too soon that freedom that she cherished ended and she found herself in front of the apartment that she could barely afford. As she let herself into the studio apartment that never failed to depress her, she couldn’t help but wish that she had a cat just so that there was someone to greet her at the end of the day. It didn’t matter that cats didn’t seem to like her or that she considered them the spawn of Satan, she just wanted someone waiting for her when she came home.

When she flicked on the lights and found several large men waiting for her, she decided to take this as proof that cats were, in fact, evil.

Chapter 2

Manhattan, New York

“No,” Kale said, shaking his head as he rubbed his hands roughly down his face, really hoping that this wasn’t going to take all fucking night.

“Mr. Quinn-” the shifter sitting behind the massive oak desk began to say only to clear his throat as he fiddled nervously with a button on his Armani suit while he regarded Kale nervously.

“Kale,” he said flatly even as he scented the air, absently noting that the other Alpha was afraid, but given the circumstances, Kale really couldn’t blame him.

Vane shifted in his seat. “Kale,” he said with a nod as he continued, “What I’m offering you should more than make up for the unusual task that I’m asking you to do.”

Kale held up a hand stopping the younger man. “I’m not a fucking babysitter, Vane.”

After a slight hesitation, Vane picked up a thick folder off his desk, no doubt on him, making Kale’s eyes narrow dangerously on the shifter until he reluctantly nodded and put the folder in one of his desk drawers while Kale studied him. If he didn’t know better, Kale would have thought the man sitting across from him was twenty-five years old, but Kale’s senses placed the man at around a hundred and fifty, making him his junior by almost a thousand years. From what he’d heard, the Alpha was a crafty son of a bitch who’d overindulged his only son. This meeting was only proof of that.

“I did my research and from what other Packs have said, you are the best and worth every penny of what I’m offering you.”

“I’m well aware of my worth, Vane. The problem is that you’re attempting to hire me for a job that a thirteen-year-old girl with acne could do.”

The man’s lips twitched slightly. “I realize that this is a rather unorthodox request, but quite necessary I assure you.”

Kale leaned back in his chair and studied the man for a moment. “Why exactly are you trying to hire a mercenary to babysit an eighty-year-old werewolf?” Kale asked, trying to ignore just how fucking exhausted he was.

This meeting was already proving to be a huge disappointment. He’d passed up two other jobs and had been forced to catch a plane at three this morning to make this meeting. He was exhausted, hungry, pissed, and the only thing that was keeping his ass in the chair was the prospect of five million dollars, that and the chair was surprisingly comfortable.