Urban Wolf

Atlanta Airport, May 1st

By the time Alex Petroza noticed the girl deplaning down the jetway, more than half a dozen young men along the concourse had also noticed the drop-dead gorgeous red head. That’s what he got for daydreaming at work – almost missing out on the arrival of his dream girl.

Of course, Alex wasn’t on the lookout for her specifically. His job requirement as third son of the pack stated one thing: keep an eye out for stray lycans travelling through Atlanta Airport and report them to his oldest brother Nicolai. As Beta rising to Alpha upon the retirement of their father, Nick wanted to know whenever strange wolves showed up in town without an invitation. It was one way he used to keep tabs on any potential competition arriving to set up shop in their territory. In this day of international travel and passports, it was too easy to hop from territory to territory without registering with the Assembly.

Little did he know someone as magnificent as this would wander off a dead-eye flight from Bozeman, Montana of all places. Tall, at least five feet, ten inches, with a mass of thick bright auburn hair which fell down her back to almost her waist, she wore jeans that were so tight it was a sin, and stalked up the terminal in a well-worn pair of cowboy boots. Her silk shirt clung to her body like a mist, showing the curve of her breasts, round and perfect, and he bit his lip at the sight of her lush, naturally full lips.

But it was her eyes that completed the picture. Large, creamy jade green and with a crustiness about them that said leave me alone, it was obvious she was traveling with a purpose and not of her own volition. The backpack she carried was a soft leather that belied the fact it was Hermes, and she strutted up the concourse of the airport like Aphrodite herself.

Picking up his personal phone, he sent a quick text to his immediate boss and brother, second son Peter. ‘Just saw Irish heiress at airport. Should I bring her in?”

The answer was immediate. ‘Hell yea.’

Standing straight from his hidden location near the escalators, Alex fell in and matched his prey’s gait. While he loved the hunt, as all their kind did, this was his type of hunting ground. The view from this angle was even more attractive. Her ass, oh people could write songs about how perfect her ass was. She was almost on the escalator down to the underground trains when he shook himself out of his revelry and grudgingly touched her shoulder.

“Ma’am, I need you to come with me.” His TSA uniform gave him the right to stop any traveler he suspected of any of a thousand different federal crimes. It was the ideal position for a lycan hiding in plain sight. Especially one trained to recognize members of the various royal families when they try to sneak into his brother’s territory.

Her eyes widened. “What’s wrong? I haven’t done anything.”

That lyric note that the Irish possessed set his adoration of her up another level, and her rich deep voice promised much with its fullness. It was damn hot, no two ways about it. “Just some routine questions, won’t take but a moment. If you’ll follow me.”

Alex opened the secure door to the room next to the train which ran from terminal to terminal, underneath the busy airport. With ten-inch thick concrete wall and its own ventilation system, it was the perfect location for privacy or for dealing with unpredictable lycans unable to control themselves after flying. For some, the claustrophobia of the enclosed cabin brought out their wolf, no matter how controlled their actions in public. At least he was certain this lovey vixen wasn’t one of those. Once they were both inside, he gestured toward the chair in front of her.

“Have a seat please.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? Who are you?”

He chuckled. “The first question is, Miss Doran, why are you in Atlanta?”

The redhead froze. “What did you call me?”

“Miss Doran, there’s no need to pretend with me. My name is Alex Petroza and I actually do work for the TSA. But I am also the third son of Dmitri Petroza, the outgoing Russian prince, Alpha of Atlanta Petroza pack. And I know you are Keele Doran, sister of the Irish Regnant Lycan, Holden Doran. So once again, why are you here?” Alex turned on his ability to manipulate emotions, one of the better supernatural gifts he possessed, and sent out neural impulses for trust and honesty.

It worked. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly and she began biting her lip. “Alright, I am Keele Doran and I need to see your brother Nicolai right away.”

“That might be a problem.”

She crinkled her forehead, “Why?”

Alex took a deep breath and plunged in. “He’s been running things as Alpha since our father retired earlier this year and his wedding, and formal coronation, is just a month or so away. He’s a little swamped.”

“Sorry. It’s him I need to see.”

“Well, I’ve got to work another hour before my shift is over. So ya got two choices. One – you can wait in here until I’m through or two- you can wait in here until I’m through. Either way, I’ll get you to Nick, but on my time, understand?”

She stared at him with what could only be described as deep anger. “What if I just leave and make my own way there?”

“Then you’ll really piss me off.” Alex stood to leave. “I know this is hard. Protocols must be followed, you know that. But, sit tight and let me see if my boss can make do without me. I’ll be back before you can begin to miss me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she muttered.

He left the room, and speed dialed eldest brother Nicolai. “Are you ready for this? Guess who showed up on a flight from Montana? The little sister of your bosom buddy Holden, Keele Doran. She says she needs to see you as soon as I can get her there.”

His brother’s deep baritone echoed in his ears. “Bring her to the penthouse downtown. I’m staying here while the Corinth house is being renovated.”

Downtown was the Petroza building, a fixture on the Atlanta skyline, an urban territory marker of steel and marble. Some call it a monument to the family’s ego. Regardless, it was headquarters for their worldwide empire, as well as home for the oldest Lycan pack in the south. Corinth Georgia was a wide place in the road southwest of Atlanta beside the Chattahoochee River as it meandered on its way to Appalachia Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. It was one of the many hunting preserves the pack owned for weekends and holidays.

“Will do.” Alex made his way to the TSA office and clocked out. His boss was married to a Lycan, and understood Alex’s dual allegiance; he was most accommodating when their case load was light. Walking back to the room where Keele waited, he wondered what was so important Holden Doran, Irish Lycan Regnant, from the Pacific Northwest, would send his beloved baby sister all the way to Atlanta.

***

Keele sat in the small conference room, strumming her nails on the table and silently fuming. She was mad at the way she was being treated, not just by this Alex Petroza, but her brother Holden as well. First he orders her to drop everything she’s working on to fly home to Montana, then he forwards her on to Atlanta like a parcel, with no instructions other than the letter she was to hand to Nicolai Petroza only.

Holden might be older, but Keele was no messenger girl. As soon as she could throw this envelope at Petroza, the sooner she could return to her own life, in Vancouver. Sure, studying to be an EMT to humans wasn’t as exciting as being the head of the Irish Lycans worldwide, but it was something she excelled at, and it kept her from being reminded she was the only one of her siblings still single and not actively involved in running the family business.

Four older sisters, and four brothers, each one married with at least two children. Visits back to the compound only served as never ending sessions of unattached males paraded forth by her family in their quest to make her kowtow to the will of the pack. Keele loved her family, and her pack mates, but she also loved her job and no man yet in her one hundred and twenty-five years had changed that one iota.

Besides, her sense of danger was on overtime, had been ever since Holden’s call. It had something to do with this trip, and not knowing what she was walking into made the tingle even stronger. She cursed again the capricious fates who gave her a talent with such imprecise warning signals. Knowing there was danger around sucked when the ability to know what the danger was didn’t exist.

She thought about what she knew of Nick Petroza. Head of the Russians, he was true shifter royalty, descended from the first lycans born on the frozen steppes and tundra of harshest Siberia. Holden met Nicolai when both fought against the Germans in the First World War. Meeting in a prison camp on the outskirts of St. Petersburg, they became fast friends and have remained so ever since. She knew Nick was a successful businessman, a wolf in human clothing at a time in history when many powerful men were considered ‘wolves’. She smirked at the pun.

When Alex returned and collected her and her luggage, she followed without complaint. The only instruction Holden gave her was to wait until the Russian Lycan replied to his request. She thought it rather odd, but Holden could be the king of odd, when it suited him. All Keele knew was he and his second in command, Remo Donnelly, had been up for two nights straight before she arrived home. They entrusted her with the letter and put her on the next flight to Atlanta. Glancing at her watch, she quickly calculated she was headed onto three days with no sleep.

Alex led her to baggage claim to collect her other suitcase, then they were on their way to one of the off-site parking lots that serviced the airport and its employees. On the shuttle bus, she almost fell asleep from the soothing hum of the air conditioner. She wished she’d changed clothes before leaving Montana. The jeans were too warm for the heavy, steamy, Atlanta sun.

Once they were in Alex’s BMW, she settled into the passenger seat. “Wake me when we get there,” she announced, then closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Inevitably, her thoughts drifted to the phone call that brought her home. Holden had been insistent she return that moment, even going so far as to send the family helicopter to pick her up. For not the first time she wondered what the letter contained that was so important.

She stretched her long legs out as far as they would reach in the BMW convertible. Once this was done, maybe she’d fly down to the beach for a while. A vacation sounded better and better, especially one charged to her elder brother’s American Express card. That would teach him to make her into an errand girl. The Caribbean would be nice this time of year, and much closer from Atlanta than Seattle.

Youngest in her family, Keele never questioned much as a child, always doing what her parents and siblings asked. Leaving home, attending human college, saving human lives, all her actions as an adult were meant as flicks of her nose toward those same relatives who thought shifters were better than others. Shifters, males in particular, tend to be arrogant assholes.

Her mouth twisted into a grin as she realized the Lycan with her was trying to ask her on a date. Better she let him down slowly than subject him to the ritual that was her family. A pack in and of their own right, her brothers tended to gang up on helpless dates. The last to go through the gauntlet was a co-worker who happened to drop by her apartment when the boys were in town. Poor Andrew, he still crossed the street to get away from her.

For not the first time, Keele wished she were normal. Human lives had to be less complex than lycans, they just had to be. And all she wanted was a little normality. Was that so much to ask for? To not be followed by her brother’s enforcers whenever she hit her cycle, to be free to choose her own path, to love whoever she wanted not someone picked because their pedigree was sufficient – it didn’t seem like too much.

Before she knew it, the sports car arrived in Atlanta and exited off the Downtown Connector expressway and onto International Boulevard. Keele twisted her head to stare at the skyscrapers, jammed together and perched on the hillside above the traffic. Everything was so different from Seattle and Vancouver, with the constant reminders of Mt. Rainer and the Puget Sound in view no matter the direction. Here every direction just led up concrete and glass.

Alex interrupted her gawking. “No big buildings in Montana?”

Unsure if he was trying to be insulting or funny, Keele went with honesty. “I live in Vancouver, lots of tall buildings. But this is my first time in Atlanta, so I’m just checking everything out. That alright with you?”

She hated the clipped, angry tone of her voice, but weariness was beginning to take over and she still needed to hold it together long enough to meet with Nick Petroza.

“Well, welcome to our city since this is your first visit. Were you whelped in Seattle or Montana?” Alex tried again to draw her out of the bubble Keele kept throwing around herself.

“Neither. Near Belfast before the turn of the last century.” She ran her fingers through her long tresses and took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry for being so bitchy but it’s been a really long time since I slept and I’m a little irritated at being sent here like a FedEx package. I’m taking it out on you and that’s not right. Shall we try this again? Hi, I’m Keele Doran.”

“Alexandre Petroza, but you can call me Alex. Why do you feel like a FedEx package?”

She grimaced. “My brother calls me in the middle of a work shift and orders me home to Montana, only to hand me an envelope with strict instructions to deliver it to your brother immediately. You know, just because he’s Alpha doesn’t mean other people don’t have lives too. I had to switch quite a few shifts to cover my absences.”

Alex nodded his head. “I feel your pain on that one. Thank the gods my boss understands I have a ‘family problem’ or I would have been sacked the first week. I’ve got two older brothers who’ve jerked me around since the day I was born. How about you?”

“FIVE brothers, and four sisters,” she confessed. “I’m the ‘baby’ of the family.”

With a shake of his head, Alex replied, “Wow, and I thought I had it rough.”

Just then they reached the secured entrance gate to Petroza Tower, the high-rise in downtown Atlanta from which the multi-national conglomerate Petroza Industries conducted their legitimate businesses. The top ten floors were kept private, for the pack’s use only. Here, the most public members of the underground Shifter community lived and worked alongside humans.

Alex pulled up to the resident gate and entered a five-digit code. The gate raised and they entered the underground parking garage. He proceeded to a corner nearest the elevator and parked in a slot marked with his name. Underneath “ALEX PETROZA”, someone had spray painted ‘ODIE’, using the brainless pup from Garfield comics as an insult. Keele giggled. Whipping boy indeed.

Alex followed her eyes and laughed at the graffiti. “It’s because I’m gullible and when I was a pup tended to run around with my tongue hanging out between my teeth. Nick said it was because I couldn’t remember how to run without concentrating hard.”

Keele laughed along with him. The vision was one she could relate to. “I’m not the most coordinated being on this planet,” she replied. “I’ve tripped myself up more than once.”

He beamed. “I knew we were kindred spirits.”

She followed him from the garage into the building and on to the elevator marked “PRIVATE”. Using a strange looking key, Alex punched the button for the top floor. As the elevator began its upward trek, Keele closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t trust elevators, not after seeing what happened to a human body when one dropped more than thirty floors. It took a moment before she realized the music piped into the elevator was playing “Hakuna Metada” from Disney’s The Lion King. No worries – what a pipe dream.

Just as her courage was about to run out, the bell dinged and the door slid open without a sound. The sign on the wall across from her read “PETROZA INDUSTRIES” in English and Cyrillic, but it was the man in front of the sign who caught her attention.

Nick Petroza had come to meet his messenger in person.