Dangerous Nights

The night began like every other night. Alejandra's phone would ring, she would answer, and the smooth voice on the other end would give her an address and a time. Usually, the address would be for one of the better hotels in Chicago.

"The Empire, Suite 207, 9:00pm. Oh, and chica, wear something classy. This man's loaded."

Alejandra felt a shiver go down her spine. The Empire was a five-star, the ultimate in assignments. In the five months she'd been working for Rita, she had worked her way up from 2-star gigs to the occasional four-star night. But this was big. This meant $1500, at least.

Alejandra pulled on a pair of tan thigh-highs and attached them to garters. She pulled on a tight dress that hugged her curves and dipped low, revealing perfect round breasts. She let her mane of black curls fall down around her shoulders. With smooth olive skin and eerie green eyes, and with a brush of kohl eyeliner and lip gloss, she could easily have been a cover girl. She slipped on a pair of stilettos and practiced walking in them, swaying her hips. Looking hot, she thought as she looked in the mirror. But a feeling of unease had begun to form in the pit of her stomach, and she shivered again, wondering what the night held in store.

Alejandra pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of her apartment and into the night. She dreaded this part-the uncertainty of who would be waiting in the room. Once she saw a face and a body she could turn her emotions off, move her hips, act the part. But until she had walked in the room, she could feel the faint glimmer of hope that maybe that man would be so beautiful, so tender, so real that she would be able to wake up from this nightmare and fall into a fairy-tale. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and hurried towards the El. If you hadn't left, you wouldn't be in this mess, she thought. If you'd had the decency to stay marry Ned just like you're parents had decided.

When she entered the lobby, she nearly gasped. The interior had intricate woodwork, plush burgundy carpet, and a giant sculpture of a wolf near the doorway. Wanting to stop and stare, she forced herself to keep walking, even though she could feel the clerk size her up when she brushed past him and into the hotel. She went up the staircase and followed the signs to room 207. She knocked.

It felt like forever before the door opened. A middle-aged man with dyed-brown hair and a mean smile opened the door. He stood in the doorway sizing her up, then he stepped back and let her in. She could smell his floral aftershave and the sticky smell of sweat. At times like this she wished she couldn't smell. Or see or hear, for that matter. But she was here to put on a show, and she forced a sultry smile. "I'm A," she said.

"May I take your coat, A?" he replied, clearly feeling powerful and virile. She could barely keep from gagging. But she threw the coat off and handed it to him, letting him drink in her long legs and perky breasts. He was particularly slimy-but it seemed like the more stars the hotel, the more creepy and cruel the patron. Hell, she thought, at least I know this will be over soon.

Suddenly, she caught the scent of something else. Something wild-nothing that belonged in this hotel. And at that moment, she had the distinct feeling they were not alone in the room.

Before she could turn around, she felt a heavy blow hit her in the head. She scrambled to get up, but he was on her, pinning her down. She struggled, still dazed from the blow. "Well, slut, how does it feel to have a man deal with you? Do you want to be fucked tonight, slut?"

"You can't," she protested, trying to push him away. He was so much bigger than her, she didn't stand a chance, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. Rita had rules for patrons-this guy was not only out of line, he was clearly dangerous. Alejandra focused everything on getting to the door. She managed to kick him in the groin, and had scrambled away when she heard a growl that stopped her dead in her tracks. Goosebumps raised on her whole body, and she felt too terrified to turn around when she heard a blood-curdling scream and the sound of an animal feasting. Gathering every ounce of courage she had, Alejandra looked over her shoulder. And she blacked out.

Rylan growled in frustration. There were not supposed to be complications. This man had betrayed his pack and Rylan had been sent to even the score-not rescue a prostitute in the process. Now what the hell was he supposed to do with her? He couldn't leave her there, not with a mangled body on the bed. And why was there a mangled body on the bed?

His intention had been to slip something into the asshole's drink, make sure it worked, and leave undetected. But something about the woman's smell, the curve of her hips-something in him told him to protect her. And his wolf had gotten out of hand. Completely out of hand, he thought as he surveyed the room. Quickly, he locked the door and took the girl's pulse. She was fine, but in shock. She might have a concussion-Trent had hit her with an icebucket. Rylan decided he could have just walked out of the hotel if he wasn't covered in blood. No way he could go out like this.

Alejandra stirred. Her head felt terrible and she had the distinct feeling of having dreamt about a wolf and a man and an icebucket. Her leg felt like it was twisted under her oddly. She felt thirsty. She tried moving her leg and winced. Everything hurt, but before she could question it further, she opened her eyes and stared into the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His eyes were green with a smudge of brown, and his cheeks were chiseled with a two-day shadow. He stared back, and Alejandra felt heat pooling between her legs.

She wanted him-it had been years since she had wanted a man, and suddenly her heart leapt at the chance to fall into his arms, no questions asked. For a second the whole world felt safe, solid, secure. God let it be real, she thought. His scent was wild and musky and his warmth was radiating from his muscled body.

That's when Alejandra noticed that he was covered in blood. And he was looking both impatient, and frustrated. She looked at the bed.

And that's when she screamed.

Rylan had been checking her for injuries when she stirred and opened her eyes. Their green, unlike his muted forest green, was brilliant, and her face made his heart stop. She was simply the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. The innocence and trust caught him by surprise-he had expected a jaded glare, and instead he found an angel. Her smell was clean, fresh unusual-it reminded him of the forest, not an urban street. He felt a vague remembrance tug at his consciousness, but before he could do anything about it, she looked past him and screamed.

Shit, he cursed.

He clasped his hand over her mouth. For a second she was very still, feeling his arms around her and his muscles. For a second, she wanted to stay just like that forever. But her logical over-ruled, and she did the next best thing to lingering-she elbowed him in the gut, then back-kicked him as hard as she could. Based on size, she didn't stand a chance, but Alejandra knew more than a little about fighting. She had caught him off-guard, and she used that to her advantage. She rolled out of the way and leapt to the other side of the bed.

Rylan had never had a girl succeed in landing a punch, let alone let one catch him off-guard. Especially not a human girl. Something was strange about this one.

As they eyed each other across the bed, Alejandra slowly backed up until she was nearly to the balcony. Then, without looking behind her, she leapt onto the ledge and over, into the night.

Rylan rushed to the ledge, but she was gone. He stared out into the empty parking lot, wondering who she was, what she was, and more than anything, when he would see her again.