Waiting For Willow
By
Bonnie Rose Leigh
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Chapter One
Scanning the crowded pub, Willow Kincaid knew business couldn’t be better. Ever since hiring Derek
Moretti and Quinn Donovan to tend bar at The Howler, and act as bouncers for their rowdier clientele,
the place filled to near capacity every night. Tonight wasn’t an exception despite it being hours away from
Samhain. They’d begun turning people away more than an hour ago due to the very real possibility of
overcrowding.
As always, her gaze settled on Derek and Quinn, the two men she’d felt compelled to hire for her pub
nearly a month prior. Though she hadn’t really been looking for either bartenders or bouncers at the time,
she didn’t regret hiring them in the least. Her business had increased tenfold since they’d started working
for her, both in female clientele desperate to watch her new employees in action, and males anxious to
ensure that the new Werewolves in town didn’t step on their turf, taking the single females for their own.
Willow thought the whole situation hilarious. Besides, just like every other red-blooded female in town,
she enjoyed the luscious view as the pair worked her bar every night. Derek’s golden brown hair hung
down to his shoulders in tousled waves. Emerald green eyes could be laughing one minute, then
smoldering with heat the next. His lips were full, begging the right woman to walk up to him and just give
‘em a nibble or two—and man did she want to be that woman. His chest was wide enough to intimidate
anyone who even thought about causing trouble, and it was also the perfect size to make any woman feel
small and sheltered in his embrace.
Quinn, on the other hand, had Black Irish written all over him. With blue-black hair that hung carelessly
to his collar and deep sapphire blue eyes that seemed to see into a person’s soul, Quinn was the more
serious of the two men. Older by a year, he tended to take the lead in most situations. Willow considered
him the thinker of the duo. He stood just an inch or two taller than Derek’s six-foot-four, and had to turn
sideways to get through the doorways at the pub. His shoulders and thighs were the size of small tree
trunks and she’d spent entirely too much time visualizing just what he—and Derek—would look like sans
clothes.
In fact, in the last month, her dreams had gotten decidedly more erotic and always featured her new
employees. In the last week alone, she’d had to resort to breaking out her vibrator several times, wearing
out the poor batteries more than a few times in an effort to appease her body’s insatiable demands for
sexual relief. Apparently, her body wanted real men between her thighs and wouldn’t settle for her plastic
toys much longer. At least, not at the rate she ran down batteries.
As Quinn lifted the pass-through separating the bar from the patrons, Willow took a seat on the nearest
empty barstool and waited for the show to begin. Over the course of the last month, she’d found
particular enjoyment watching the pair of walking studs tossing out troublemakers. Watching the flexing
of Quinn’s and Derek’s jeans cupping their muscular asses when they bent over to pick up their prey off
the floor just before they threw them out the door was a favorite pastime of hers.
This time it was Jessup Jones and his cousin, Marcus, causing problems. She’d known they were
looking for a fight when they reached for their waitress, Sera, and pulled her onto Jessup’s lap despite
her apparent distaste for her new position. She attempted to push herself off him. It wouldn’t take long
now before Quinn would be all over their asses. He didn’t like to see women abused in any capacity,
especially when others were nearby to prevent the abuse and did nothing but watch from a distance.
Once a woman said no, that was it. No meant no and Quinn would pound anyone who harmed a
woman, no questions asked.
As Quinn moved toward the Jones’ table, Derek made his way from behind the bar, an oak bat in his
hand. Not that he’d really need the baseball bat to do any damage if the situation called for it. She’d seen
these two protect the wait staff and female patrons enough to know they could take care of each other
and then some, no weapons needed. When danger surrounded them, they always had each other’s
backs, no matter how simple the situation may look on the surface. This instance wouldn’t be any
different.
When Jessup refused to let Sera up from his lap, going so far as to yank her top down exposing her
breasts to the rest of the drunken room, he pretty much signed his own ass-kicking warrant. Knowing
that the safest place for her to be right now was behind the bar, Willow hopped over the counter and
made her way over to the phone. Her hand rested just inches away, ready to call in the law if necessary,
although she doubted she’d need to do so. Not when the situation looked to be already in hand.
With one hand wrapped around the nape of Jessup’s neck, Quinn had already pried him from his table
while Derek quickly but gently eased Sera off his lap. Marcus lay sprawled on the floor, his chair
knocked out from beneath him. Heaven only knew how traumatizing a lecherous attack by the drunken
Jones cousins could be on a person but, thankfully, Derek and Quinn were right there to protect Sera
before things got out of hand. Within seconds, Jessup and Marcus were forcibly shown the door to the
sound of jeers and mocking laughter.
Knowing the pub was safe in the men’s hands, Willow went back to her office and tallied up the
afternoon’s receipts. She needed to get to the bank before the witching hour and the pranksters started
roaming the streets of Serenity pulling mischievous Halloween shenanigans. In Serenity, starting the night
before Halloween and for a full twenty-four hours until Halloween ended, the citizens were fair game for
pranksters.
Although her town had little crime, even she didn’t feel quite comfortable taking the deposits to the bank
drop-off slot after hours, despite the bank president’s insistence that it was perfectly safe at any time of
day or night. She especially didn’t feel comfortable doing so on Halloween when the veil between the
worlds thinned.
After leaving a note for her guys, Willow filled out the deposit slip, dropped it into the bank bag,
grabbed her keys, and slipped out the back door of the pub. She paused, letting the cool October air
soothe away the stench of too many men who’d insisted on finding reasons to rub themselves all over her
skin. She just wanted to make her deposit and get back so she could shower off everyone else’s scent
but her own.
Within minutes after leaving the pub, she dreaded her decision to drop off tonight’s take by herself. The
eerie silence and creepy sense that someone watched her from the shadows had the hair at the nape of
her neck standing at attention.
She should have waited until after closing and taken Derek and Quinn with her. It’s not as if they hadn’t
offered more than once to accompany her on her nightly jaunt to the bank, but she was afraid she’d jump
them if she were alone with them for any length of time. In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take a
chance at rejection and die of embarrassment if shedid jump them than to become some victim of
random crime.
A chill worked its way down her spine. Willow sped up. Her gaze constantly scanned the darkness
searching for anything suspicious, her senses hyperaware of the darkened doorways and alleys that could
hide a mugger. She only had three more blocks until she reached the bank—three more blocks of her
own stupidity. Perhaps she could stop at the all night diner, give Derek and Quinn a call and have one of
them drive her to the bank and back. Better to be safe than sorry and all that.
As she crossed the street and approached the diner, she saw a sign clearly announcing they’d closed
early to celebrate Halloween. Willow’s dread increased. Looking up and down the street, she gnawed
on her lower lip in indecision. Not willing to take the risk, she decided to head back to the safety of her
pub despite having no solid proof that something—or someone—currently stalked her. She’d seen too
many movies and books where the heroine ignored her instincts and ended up dead. She wasn’t about to
be one of those too-stupid-to-live women. Not if she could help it.
Without giving herself more time to dither, she immediately turned in her tracks and started back across
the street heading toward her bar. Besides, it was Samhain and nothing said she had to drop off tonight’s
take now. She could wait until tomorrow, after the bank opened for the day. If she hurried, perhaps she
could jump in the shower before the pub closed and talk one or both of her new employees into spending
a few hours doing the horizontal tango with her.
Perhaps she should feel guilty for wanting both men, but in Serenity having two men in her bed wasn’t
exactly taboo—not like in the human world, anyway—since there were triadic mate bonds, several of
which had formed right here in town. Why her thoughts had turned toward mate bonds while walking
down an eerily quiet street when all her attention should focus on her surroundings, she didn’t know.
Maybe so I can cope with the unreasonable terror flooding my veins . That sounded reasonable to
her. Besides, she definitely preferred thinking about sex with Quinn and Derek than the alternative.
She was still two blocks from her pub when every instinct inside her told her to get the hell off the street
and somewhere safe. Whether it was her imagination or not, she’d not ignore that inner voice. Holding
her purse closer to her side, Willow put her head down and sped up, desperate now to get back to her
pub before whatever was making her uneasy struck. An eerie howl split the ominously silent night, and
she shivered in dread. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood up and her gut clenched in terror.
She hugged her purse holding the bank deposit closer and started to run. Her footsteps pounded against
the sidewalk and her heart hammered against her chest. Sweat ran down her back as she made her way
closer to safety. Focused on the neon sign at The Howler gleaming in the distance, she promised herself
never to go through this kind of fear again. From now on, she’d either take someone with her to drop off
the deposit or wait until the next day. That was her last thought before someone dressed in all black
stepped out of the alley just in front of her and held a gun to her chest, freezing her in her tracks.
Before she could blink, a soft shuffling from behind caught her attention, then pain the likes of which
she’d never imagined ripped through the back of her head, dropping her to her knees. She could feel
warm liquid seep into her hair and knew immediately someone had struck her hard enough to break the
skin. Darkness closed in on her and she could do nothing to fight it. Before she could find her voice to
scream for help, her body gave up its fight, dragging her down and under. Goddess, help me .
Chapter Two
Endless seconds became minutes and Derek’s sense of unease grew. They’d waited for this night for
over a month, the night he and Quinn would finally claim their mate. However, the last twenty minutes
seemed to stretch for hours. With his stomach churning and his wolf pressing against his consciousness,
something within him demanded he go search for her.
Having closed down the bar at one, they’d immediately let themselves into Willow’s apartment,
anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Tonight they’d finally make her theirs after years of searching for her.
However, Derek watched Quinn pace from one end of her living room to the other, knowing instinctively
something had gone horribly wrong and that, even now, Willow needed them now more than ever.
Without pausing to think about his next move, Derek stood and headed toward her front door. “I’m
going to search for our mate. Something isn’t right, Quinn. She should have been back by now.”
Quinn’s blue eyes blazed with rage before he slowly nodded, his hands fisted at his sides. “I’ll wait here
in case she comes back before you return. If you find something suspicious, call me and we’ll search for
her together.”
Derek knew just how difficult staying behind was for Quinn. The man had an obsessive need to see all
women protected, especially their mate. Every night, Quinn ensured that Willow got home safely,
watching from a distance until she was safely tucked into bed for the night. This had to be tearing him
apart. “Of course, Quinn. We’ll find her, don’t worry.”
Derek headed out the door and glanced at his friend one last time. “Keep your cell phone handy. I’ll call
when I know something.” By the time he reached the street and looked up toward Willow’s apartment,
Quinn had already situated himself in front of the window, his arms braced against the window frame. He
scanned the street below looking for any sign of trouble.
Knowing that Quinn watched from above, Derek closed his eyes and inhaled, breathing in the myriad
scents surrounding The Howler. Hundreds of different odors thickened the air around the pub but, having
spent hours near Willow, it didn’t take long for him to pick their mate’s scent from all the others.
As he expected, it veered to the left, in the direction she normally took to get to the bank. After waving
up at Quinn and pointing toward the route she’d taken, Derek started following her scent trail, aware that
every second he wasted tracking her meant it would be that much longer before they could hold their
mate in their arms—where she belonged.
Looking back, they should have claimed her weeks ago instead of letting her get to know them
gradually, but they wanted to ease her into a relationship with them. If they had mated her immediately as
their wolves had demanded, they’d be able to communicate with her telepathically, no matter the distance
between them. Not to mention, they would have known right away if something dire happened to her.
They wouldn’t wonder and worry—they’d know the moment danger surrounded her. Once they had
Willow safely home and finally in their arms, they wouldn’t waste another moment before finalizing their
position in her life. She’d just have to get to know them after they mated her.
Within seconds of following what remained of Willow’s scent, the hairs on the nape of his neck
quivered. Visceral fear whipped through him when he picked up the sickening smell of freshly spilled
blood. By the time he reached the alley whence the smell emanated, he knew without a doubt that the
blood belonged to their mate. Despite the late hour and the pervading darkness of the alley, he had no
trouble spotting her purse wedged between the dumpster and the rusted rim of a car tire. Nor did he miss
the smeared blood on the wall above it.
Derek pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed Quinn even as he bent down to lift Willow’...
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