Wolf_A Filthy Sweet Fairy Tale Romance Read online

  "Isn't it?" I ask, reaching the young woman and stepping a little in front of her. Just enough to make her feel protected, but not enough to make her feel trapped. "I've already called the police. I believe it would be in your best interest to leave." I harden my voice theatrically. "Now."

  Slash glares at me, making a subtle motion to indicate to the others that they should retreat. They’re a little resentful, but they'll get over it.

  "We'll find you," Slash threatens quietly as he steps back as well. "Watch your back. These streets aren't always the most forgiving."

  Nice touch.

  "Not much time left," I point out. "Cops should be here any minute now." I cross my arms and wait as they make a noisy show of leaving, making sure they're more visible than they need to be.

  Helping me out.

  I smile a little. I'll be sure to buy them all a round later.

  I wait until they're out of sight, then I turn towards Red and find her staring at me cautiously. No hero worship in her sharp eyes.

  Smart girl. I'm nobody's hero.

  But I need to play it right to get closer to her.

  "Are you alright?" I ask softly, taking a step closer, searching her face.

  Her skin is so smooth, so perfect. I want to touch it. Take her clothes off and find out if it's that smooth and perfect all over. Kiss and lick it, gorge myself on it until I’m sated.

  "Yes," she says quietly, her fear still clear in her flushed cheeks and her rapid pulse, apparent in the side of her neck. "I… thank you. For your help."

  "Of course," I say smoothly. "I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself. But I have to say, walking through these alleys at night isn't the best idea. What was so important that it couldn't wait for morning? Or that you couldn't use the speed-rail?"

  She sighs, her hands twisting in front of her. "I'm going to my grandmother's place. I missed the speed-rail and didn't want to be late, so…" She shrugs sheepishly.

  "So you decided it was more important to be on time than it was to be safe," I finish for her, shaking my head at that foolishness. "I'm sure your grandmother would have understood if you were a few minutes late."

  As I'm talking, I realize I actually mean it. What if she was really hurt? The loup-garou is far from the worst that could have happened to her out alone on the streets at night.

  "She wouldn't have," she mutters, glancing down at her watch. "She won't, I mean. I might be late now anyway."

  Here's my in if I'm careful. "Where does she live?" I ask.

  She glances at me warily.

  "If I was going to attack you, I would have done it already," I say, injecting exasperation in my response. It's not quite a lie.

  She searches my face for a few moments.

  Come on. Take the bait.

  My wolf is chomping at the bit to get a taste of her. To cup those pretty breasts, shape those hips, kiss those soft lips. Sink my hard cock into her softness.

  I bite back a groan, trying to look innocent while sporting a raging hard on. It's hard. Ha. Ha.

  Luckily for me, she finally relents. "Down past the light, on the corner of…" She describes the location. It's not far.

  I check my watch. "When are you supposed to be there?" I ask.

  "In five minutes." She shakes her head. "I don't think I'm going to make it."

  "I'll get you there in time," I say. "I know a shortcut or two."

  "Shortcut?" she asks, arching one slim brow. "That's what got me into this mess in the first place. And shouldn't we wait for the police?"

  "I didn't really call the police. Just thought it would be a good way to scare them off. And you won't get into the same mess with my shortcut because you'll be with me," I point out. She still looks unconvinced, glancing behind herself as if considering just walking away. "Come on. Or do you want to be late?" She hesitates so I give her another push. "Those guys are still out here. I don't want you to make the rest of your journey without an escort when it isn't necessary."

  She sighs. And nods.

  Yes!

  I get a rush, a feeling of accomplishment, just from that small victory.

  "Fine. Lead the way," she says, gesturing to the street.

  "My pleasure," I almost purr.

  I take her hand in mine and she jerks a little in surprise. I start walking, not acknowledging the touch even though the simple skin contact of her palm on mine makes my cock pulse harder.

  She hesitates again but then grips my hand back, keeping it in mine.

  I smile to myself in satisfaction. My pleasure indeed.

  Chapter 5

  Ruby

  I glance at the man walking next to me, his handsome face hard and covered in sketchy-looking stubble. He doesn't look safe at all. To be honest, he doesn't look much more reputable than the gang that almost attacked me in the alley. Jeans, t-shirt, synth leather jacket, the beginnings of a beard. He looks like a poster child bad boy, though unlike the posers at school, he might actually be the real deal.

  His hand is warm against mine as he leads us through other back alleys. Probably it was a bad idea to trust a man I just met and follow him into dangerous places.

  The city came up with the money to light the alleyways in the hopes of reducing the crime rate. But the lights were broken within a week in each in every place they were installed. The mayor has simply thrown up his hands in defeat and no longer tries.

  And here I am, traipsing through dark lanes with a stranger. I guess tonight is my night to make bad decisions.

  "What's your name?" I ask, probably something I should have thought of earlier. You know, in case of a police report later. The police that this guy didn't actually call.

  I mentally smack myself.

  "Zane," he says, glancing back at me with a smile that does funny things to my heart. Stupid heart. "What's yours?"

  "Ruby."

  "Ruby," he repeats, almost savoring the sound of it. It sends a slight shiver down my spine. Apparently any move he makes affects me. "Pretty," he comments, his eyes warm as he looks at me.

  When he turns back around, I still feel the effects of that look. I've never met a man so… male. Yes, he's handsome. Testosterone seems to just drip off him. And he definitely has that bad boy edge going on. But there's something more. His confidence, his clear intelligence. The way he doesn't hide that he finds me attractive.

  I haven't been this attracted to anyone this fast… ever. I frown as I consider that. It's true.

  I'm turning that thought over in my mind and wondering what it might mean as we keep going. Maybe because he isn't a boy from school. He isn't a boy at all.

  Zane is definitely a man.

  And I've never really spent much time around a good looking man before. Not with all the restrictions my parents have on me. Maybe it's as simple as that.

  As I think, Zane keeps us moving at a brisk pace. It doesn't take us long to reach Grandmother's building, the expensive structure lit up like a Christmas tree next to other equally moneyed residential skyscrapers on either side. This part of town screams money and power.

  Flashy and known as a desirable neighborhood, some people live here just to prove their worth. Even if they can't afford it. Like an expensive car on lease or really good fake jewelry advertised to trick even the most discerning eye. Holograms can accomplish a lot these days. Though one touch and the illusion would be broken.

  "Time?" Zane asks as we reach the doorman at the front.

  I check my watch. "One minute to spare," I say with surprise. That really was fast.

  He grins at me, something about the wickedness of it hitting all the right buttons.

  I blink. Wow.

  I never thought I was the type stupid enough to go for bad boys. But how bad is he really? I mean, he did save me from those other guys. Their intentions were not at all good. Am I only basing his badness on how he looks? His clothes and his swagger? That doesn't seem fair.

  Hmm.

  I turn to the doorman, no time to really dwe
ll on it. I went through a lot to be here on time, and damn it, I'm going to be on time.

  "Ruby Devaux. I'm here to see my Grandmother."

  "Ah, of course," the android says with a smile that I would be sure was human if not for the fact that his bottom half is clearly mechanical. Twenty-four hour doormen are one of the perks of living here. And robots are much more cost efficient for this kind of work. They never tire, never take sick days, and are always in a good, cheerful mood. Bad customer service doesn't exist once the human element is taken out.

  So far, regulations ensure that full artificial intelligence cannot be combined with a fully humanoid body. Most androids are built for very specific tasks, with intelligence designed to stay within a narrow field and only half of a passable human body. Though I'm sure the black market has unsanctioned models to sell.

  Sometimes I wonder if the dark whispers online about the androids walking among us are true. But then I shrug it off as a problem I can't do anything about even if it was true.

  The doorman slides the door over the scanner on his chest and I place my hand on it. I've been keyed in to Grandmother's account.

  "Very good, Ms. Devaux," he says with another smile. "You and your guest are welcome to enter."

  The door to the building slides open. "Thank you," I say, smiling back at the doorman.

  Some people aren't nice to the robots and androids, justifying it by saying they don't really feel. But I wonder at that. Maybe they don't feel. Maybe they do. But I know I feel terrible if I'm not polite.

  I walk in with Zane, who also nods at the doorman in acknowledgment.

  Hmm. Really not so bad.

  I wonder if I should say goodbye to him. Grandmother isn't going to approve of me showing up with him, that's for sure. But he hasn't made a move to leave and it seems rude to say goodbye when he's done so much for me. It has nothing to do with the fact that he smells amazing or that he looks at me with heat in his eyes.

  Nope. Nothing at all.

  Maybe if I say it enough I can convince myself it's true.

  As soon as we walk in through the second door, it closes behind us, enclosing us in a multi-directional elevator. We start moving. God forbid the rich have to walk anywhere. Though, if I'm honest, I suspect part of the reason why there isn't even a lobby in the building is so that every inch of space for this address can be utilized. Space is beyond astronomically expensive here after all. And I can't deny the convenience of the elevator.

  It moves horizontally, comes to a smooth stop, and then rises vertically. Then horizontally again, taking us right to Grandmother's door. Can't beat the convenience. And the lack of ads. The people living here shell out so much partly so they don't have to constantly dodge those advertisements.

  We step out and wait. I don't bother knocking. The doorman would have contacted Grandmother to ask for permission to send us up while he spoke to us. She knows we're here. She obviously also saw Zane and agreed to his coming up as well or the doorman would never have let us in.

  Doesn't mean she'll welcome him, but at least she didn't deny him entry.

  The front door opens in less than two seconds of us waiting, revealing Grandmother in all her glory. Even this late at night her gray hair is styled just so, holographic makeup still activated, gently smoothing out her wrinkles and highlighting her eyes. Her beige pantsuit is silk, and her gold flats cost more than a month's rent for us. Pearls at her throat and ears complete the moneyed, understated look.

  Grandmother is in her sixties at this point, but her back is still ramrod straight and her waist is still trim. She keeps up a rigid regimen, looking down at people who decide to let themselves go in any way. It's a hard standard to live up to. I can see why Mom strayed so far.

  "Grandmother," I greet her, leaning in to lightly kiss the cheek she presents to me. "How are you?"

  "Very well, thank you," she says, her eyes already on Zane. "Who is this?" she asks, her tone imperious.

  She manages to look down her nose at him even though he towers over her even more than me. It's a skill. I wonder if I could manage it with some practice.

  "This is Zane," I say quickly, my smile straining at the edges. "There were some men that were harassing me on my way here and he stepped in."

  "Hmm." Grandmother's eyes scan him, her lip slightly curled. She obviously finds him lacking. Not the type to appreciate a bad boy, I guess.

  "Nice to meet you," Zane says politely, a slight smile on his face, like he only finds it amusing that she thinks he isn't worth her time.

  I bet he probably gets it a fair amount. Though that's assuming that he meets the families of the girls he dates. If he dates at all. I picture a line of willing women spinning through a revolving door. I should probably stop thinking about this.

  Grandmother just sniffs, turning her attention back to me.

  That went well.

  "Come in," she says, stepping back to allow us to enter.

  I step inside with Zane close on my heels. Somehow, Grandmother doesn't seem quite so intimidating with him there.

  Inside, the décor matches Grandmother's clothes. Beige, cream, hints of gold accents here and there. Not much for bold splashes of color, my grandmother but she has a killer view of the city lights. Large windows line one wall, cream colored draperies framing the view.

  Linda, the maid, rolls over on her steel ball connected to the pole that holds her upper half up. It allows her speed and mobility in the house. "Allow me to take your jackets," she says with a smile, holding out a hand.

  "Thank you," I say politely, taking off my jacket and handing it over as Zane politely declines to part with his own.

  Probably wants to be able to make a quick getaway. That's actually an option.

  Lucky him.

  "You really should be dressing more appropriately," Grandmother remarks, her eyes scanning my jeans and shirt. "How are you going to attract the right kind of people if you don't project the correct image?" She glances over at Zane pointedly, the look conveying exactly what she thinks of his appearance.

  Great. I give Zane an apologetic smile, but he still just looks mildly amused by everything. Better than offended, at least.

  "Are you still friends with that Isa and Elle?" she asks as we all sit down on the spotless, cream colored couches.

  She knows I am. But she still asks every time, like maybe I swapped them out for more respectable models since the last time I saw her.

  "Yes," I say simply, bracing myself for the experience that is Grandmother.

  I once again understand why Mom left. I come to the same understanding every time I'm here. But she's my Grandmother, so I make the trip every time. Yay for obligation.

  "Those girls need some firm handling. I do wish you would keep better company, my dear."

  "Yes, Grandmother," I say politely.

  When in doubt, that's always the response I give her. Better to just avoid a fight. It won't get me anywhere. She's very set in her ways and I just do what I want anyway. Win win.

  She nods as Linda rolls in with some refreshments, setting them down on the table. "Thank you," I say to her with a smile. Grandmother says nothing, simply reaching for the tea.

  I sigh. Thank God for robots. No human would be able to tolerate Grandmother for long. And she isn't one to lift a finger when she can pay someone else to do the work for her.

  "I invited you here tonight to discuss your future," Grandmother starts after taking a careful sip.

  That sounds ominous. I already wish I wasn't here.

  "What are your plans now that you're eighteen and almost done with school?" she continues.

  Well, there's a loaded question. "I'm not sure," I say honestly. "I'm looking for work right now."

  I'd like to go to college, but I have no idea where I would get the money. If I work, maybe I can save up enough to start in a couple of years, though there aren't any guarantees. My part time job now won't be enough. I'll have to find something else as soon as I graduate.
r />   "Yes, well, I'm sure that seems like a fine idea to you now. You don't know any better." She sets down the delicate teacup and meets my eyes, hers direct as always. "I want you to attend the same prep school as I did. There, you'll make contact with the right kind of people, find your rightful place in society."

  Okay. I don't know how she expects me to make that happen.

  "I'm thinking of saving up and then going to college," I explain. "I don't know if I'll be able to afford the same school you went to, but—"

  "I'll pay for it," she interrupts me, waving her hand dismissively, the diamond on her finger winking at me.

  I frown. This is… unexpected. "That's… very generous of you, Grandmother."

  And it is. I could only ever dream of attending one of the upper class prep schools. Even apart from the expense, you have to be someone or know someone to get in. But Grandmother has been very consistent about not paying for anything and not throwing her weight around either. For my family or for me.

  "It is generous," she agrees, folding her hands and nodding. "I would, of course, require you to meet certain expectations."

  Ah. Here it comes. I don't know if I'm going to like this at all.

  I glance over at Zane and notice how he's looking at Grandmother, his head tilted to the side. Like he's fascinated by her, trying to dissect what makes her tick. Good luck with that. Sometimes I think we'd discover a circuit board inside her if we cut her open.

  I look back. It has to be asked. I'm in this conversation now and the only way out is to finish it. "What expectations?"

  "I'll let you know as they come up." How open ended and convenient for her. "The first one, however, has to do with the upcoming Singarti cotillion Prince Herne is throwing. I want you to agree to attend. There will be many wealthy, eligible men there for you to choose from. A rare and important opportunity for you."

  Next to me, Zane stifles a laugh, turning it into a cough.

  My mouth twitches. It does sound rather Victorian. Grandmother was born in the wrong era altogether.

  She flicks a quelling glance over at Zane and then back at me. "I do not want you to make the same mistakes your mother made."