Never His Mate: a Rejected Mates Shifter Romance (Claws and Fangs Book 1)

A YEAR LATER

Like most Friday nights, Charlie’s is hopping.

Hailey’s running late, so I’m the only one behind the bar. A crowd of usuals lines the counter, a good mix of both humans and supes. Charlie himself is a vampire, so we’re fang-friendly here even if most of the patrons are too busy tossing back their shots to notice that the next table over is drinking legit Bloody Mary’s.

“Gem?” One of my regulars raps his knuckles on the bar top. “Can I get another refill?”

“Coming right up, Vin.”

Vincent flashes his fangs at me. “And if you want to think about my offer, I’m going out on patrol in ten.”

I grab a cask of chilled O-negative—Vincent’s preferred type—and pour it into a blacked-out shot glass. Some vamps ask for a little whiskey or some rum added to their blood, but not when they’re on the Cadre’s payroll. The alcohol might give them a little buzz, but the vampires in charge of Muncie expect their patrollers to be one hundred percent sober.

Bringing the glass over to where he’s sitting, I tease, “Ten minutes? Is that all?”

He winks as he accepts his drink. “Believe me, baby, it’s long enough to make you think twice about your loyalty to Filan.”

Almost reflexively, I lift my hand and pat the slight bulge beneath my tight, black Charlie’s tee. I don’t have my necklace visible while I’m working for a couple of different reasons, but just mentioning Aleksander Filan has me double-checking that I haven’t lost it—again.

“Be careful that you don’t let him hear you badgering his girl,” Jimmy says, nudging Vincent in the side.

Jimmy Fiorello is as human as they come but, as he’s told me a hundred times since I started here last year, he was living in Muncie before the vampires moved into town, and he’ll be here long after they move along; considering he’s probably in his early sixties and vampires are essentially immortal, I don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t have a prayer. So, like the rest of the supes who frequent Charlie’s, I let the old barhound dream. He’s harmless, he gets along well with my vamp customers, and he tips well.

Plus, he doesn’t flirt with me. That’s a win in my book.

If only he could convince Vincent St. James to give it up, too. The first time, I brushed him off. And the second. And the third. These days I just ignore him. If he hasn’t gotten the hint by now, he never will. There are only so many ways I can say never gonna fuck you, my dude in customer service-ese.

Unfortunately, if there’s one thing I’ve learned living among vampires, it’s that their immortality means they’re really, really patient. He keeps trying because he has this idea that, one day, I’ll take him up on his offer of a quickie in the bathroom. Yeah… that’s not gonna happen, and my relationship with one of the most well-known vamps in Muncie has nothing to do with it.

Hey, sue a girl for having some standards.

I dodged the bullet of a piss poor mating once before. I haven’t seen Ryker Wolfson since the night I walked out of the Alpha’s cabin, and though it took me longer than it should’ve to bury our would-be bond, I eventually managed it. So what if I’m perennially single? At least I’m not trapped.

I’m a shifter. I need to be free.

Right now, though, I need to take care of the rest of my customers. As soon as Hailey comes in, Charlie told me I can head on out. This is my ninth night in a row and I’m looking forward to a relaxing evening where, for once, I might actually get home before my roomie heads out on his nightly patrols.

Speaking of Aleksander⁠—

With a sly look my way, Vincent sniffs, his fangs lengthening just enough that it might cause an unaware human to take a second peek. “I’m not afraid of him.”

Oh, really?

I pretend to spot someone on the other side of the bar. “Aleks, hey. Over here!”

Vincent spins on his stool so quickly, he nearly falls off.

My laugh comes out like a bark. Whoops. You can take the girl out of the pack, but you can’t take the wolf out of the girl. “My mistake. That’s not him.”

As Vincent rights himself, scowling as he tells Jimmy to stop with the laughing, I give the two friends a quick smirk before going to serve another customer.

Just another normal night at Charlie’s.

I learned early on that, as a female bartender, I have to toe the line between being friendly enough to earn tips and authoritative enough that my customers know not to push their luck. My first couple of weeks working the bar at Charlie’s, I lost track of how many of the guys tried to get me to go home with them at the end of the night, but it wasn’t long before they realized they weren’t getting anywhere with me. A little meaningless flirting was one thing, but no one’s really pushed it too far.

Amazingly, I did it all without relying on rank, pack status, or my wolf. Apart from Aleks, his boss Roman, and Gretchen (plus Tamera and Leigh), no one else in Muncie knows for sure what I am. And I don’t mean being a female alpha—‘cause I’ve gone back to deciding to take that secret to my grave—but that I’m a shifter. As far as I know, I’m the only one in all of the vamp-controlled city. So showing off my claws? It wouldn’t work.

And, despite how grateful I am for Aleks’s help, I don’t like using him as an excuse, either. Unless I can get a laugh out of it like I just did with Vincent.

Nope, I did it all by being me. The Gem I’ve always been deep down, the alpha with the sharp tongue and quick temper, but the good humor to blunt my claws. They think I’m a human with an attitude, one who stands up for herself. It didn’t take long before anyone I met in Muncie figured that out, and I pulled it off without any bloodshed.

Which is a good thing since, in a Fang City, bloodshed becomes a real “waste not, want not” sitch that I’d rather stay away from if I can help it.

I like my job. It took a bit of getting used to after a lifetime of pretending to be gentle and meek, the perfect omega, but I enjoy myself even if it seems like I’m always behind the bar. At least the tips are good, Charlie’s a fair boss, and I’ve learned to handle my customers.

For the next hour, I mix cocktails, have quick convos with some regulars, catch up on the Cadre’s latest decrees for their supe residents. I play “spot the human” with Jane, always messing up on purpose because a) the arrogant vamp hates losing and b) thanks to my trusty charm, everyone else thinks I’m human, too. One who knows about supes, sure, but nothing supernatural about sassy Gemma Swann.

Nope. Not even a little.

And I work hard to keep it that way.

I’m not just covering my own ass, hiding out from my former packmates and a fate that I’m stubborn enough to ignore. Roman, the leader of Muncie’s chapter of the Vampire Cadre, agreed to let me stay in the city after Aleks vouched for me last year so long as I keep up the facade that I’m human. Muncie is decidedly a shifter-free territory, and if Gretchen and her goons had it their way, it still would be.

Thank Luna for Aleks. I don’t know how he pulled it off, but he convinced Roman that I might be a wolf, but I won’t be any trouble. I never thought it would work—I had every intention of driving right out of Muncie as soon as I could—but Aleks is a determined guy. He not only convinced me that I should stay, but he got Roman to agree to it. I don’t understand how, but I’ve given up trying to. I just accept that Aleksander Filan always finds a way to get what he wants.

Well, I admit to myself, almost always.

After Roman gave the okay—on the condition that, if I lose my mind and go feral wolf in the middle of Muncie, then Aleks is responsible for putting me down—my determined roommate even found a way to make Gretchen and her two followers ignore what they sensed about me my first night in town.

Honestly, I didn’t expect my secret to last with those three in on it. Call me bitter, but Gretchen reminds me of Trish Danvers. She’s as possessive of Aleks as Trish was of Ryker, and both of them act as if I’m not even worthy of talking to either male. So, yeah, I really thought Gretchen would hold my true identity over my head, even if she begrudgingly kept the secret. She hasn’t, though. Not really. On the rare occasion that I run into any of them—either as a trio, or separate—the female vamps suddenly have something far better to do than play nice with Aleks’s pet.

And if calling me his ‘pet’ is the price I have to pay to keep my secret? At least it’s better than being called a ‘little puppy dog’…

No one else knows more than I’m willing to tell them. So I’m Gem now. An easy-going bartender with a quip or a tongue-lashing, depending on what you deserve. A local transplant to Muncie who lives with Aleksander Filan, though we’re completely platonic, despite what Vincent and some of the other vamps think.

But a shifter? Me? From the Mountainside Pack?

You must have me mistaken for someone else.

It’s easy, too. A year after I put pack life behind me, I don’t look a thing like Omega Gem. No more curls for this chick; I wear my light blonde hair in a sheet down my back when it’s not up in a high ponytail. Dresses? Yeah, right. The best thing about Charlie’s is its uniform: the black tee, comfy jeans, and my sturdy boots. I’ve even discovered a love of mascara and wild eyeshadow palettes that bring out my striking eyes instead of always downplaying them. In a town where most vamps have pale irises—blues, greys, greens—my honey-colored eyes are pretty unique. Luckily, most people I talk to think they’re contacts, and I’m good with that… until I have to hear for the countless time that I have the most beautiful eyes.

Yeah, my customers aren’t the most creative when it comes to their pick-up lines. But if all it takes is a smile and me batting my eyelashes to see them add a couple of singles to their tip, well, okay then. Drown in my eyes all you like, fellas.

I’ve gotta work with what I got. Unlike some of the other bartenders and waitresses, my boobs are pretty small. My ass? Non-existent. Since I’ve given up the omega act, I’ve burned off a lot of excess energy through running and weightlifting, giving me a more muscular physique.

I fucking love it.

For the first time in my life, I’m living what I truly am. I’m an alpha, just one without a pack.

A lone wolf.

And, okay, a human pretender.

Still, I’m finally content.

Yeah. Definitely a win.

Hailey comes flying in through the front door at a quarter to nine, waving at me as she dashes past the bar.

“Gimme five, Gem.”

I nod, in the middle of tallying up Jimmy’s tab for the night. Vincent already left for his patrol, though not before reminding me that he’s only on a quarter-turn shift, meaning that he’s responsible for a quarter of Muncie’s perimeter before he’s free to take the rest of the night for himself. Without his buddy, Jimmy nursed a few more drinks before calling it. Good. Once I close him out and Hailey takes over for me, I can go.

Just as I’m cashing out, Hailey appears behind the bar, a flurry of apologies spilling from her lips. I know from experience that, give it a couple of shifts, and she’ll be late again. I’m used to it and, honestly, it’s fine. I know where she is before she comes here. Better she gets that out of her system on her own time instead of looking at some of her customers as potential targets.

Speaking of…

“Uh, Hailey.”

“Yeah?”

I tap my neck discreetly.

Hailey’s big brown eyes go wide as she slaps a hand over her throat. “Shit. I forgot.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.”

Underneath the bar, Charlie keeps an emergency kit. A vial of holy water to stun vamps; a silver rod that I’m careful to avoid because, hello, shifter; even a Louisville slugger for when one of the human customers gets a little rowdy. But because he’s been around the block a bit, he also keeps a couple of patches tucked in there.

I grab one and, after slapping it against my hip to activate it, I hold it out to Hailey.

She grabs it with her free hand. “Thanks, babe.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her wearing fresh bite marks. By now, I’ve almost come to expect it.

She is a fang-banger, after all.

While most of the non-supes in Muncie are completely oblivious that a group of vampires run this city, there are a select few who have been inducted into the supernatural society.

Jimmy’s one. Hailey’s another.

Hailey thinks I’m like her: a human at ease with vamps because of my relationship with my roommate. And if she’s just a little jealous every time she’s reminded that I already have my fang, she gets over it because she’s determined to get her own one day.

Fang-banger. Not only does she fuck vamps, but she lets them bite her. Anything to convince one of the vampires that she’s perfect mate material.

Honestly, she can have them. My days of looking for a mate are way behind me.

“You good?” I ask.

She pats the charmed bandage. Created by the Cadre for any human donors in Muncie, the bandage will heal her bite marks while also replenishing her blood supply. By tomorrow, she’ll be ready to be bitten again. “Yeah.”

Bending low, reaching for the shelf below the one holding the emergency kit, I snag my light jacket. Even though it’s early May, it can be a little chilly in Muncie at night, and humans will wonder if I walk around with no coat on. I don’t need it, but I’ll wear it because I’m expected to.

In so many ways, I have to admit that I’m still playing a part.

Oh, well.

“Good. Then I’m out of here.”

“Ah, come on, Gem,” calls out one of my more persistent regulars. “Don’t go. I was just about to ask ya to bend over again. That glimpse of your ass was too quick and I need more. You’re not gonna leave a guy hanging, are ya?”

Ugh. If I thought Vincent was bad, Rex is worse. At least I know that Vincent will respect my necklace. As a human, Rex doesn’t respect anything except a direct response.

I shoot him the bird, shrugging on my jacket at the same time. What can I say? I’m talented like that. “Sorry. Shift’s over. Maybe, if you’re lucky, Hailey will throw you a bone.”

My fellow bartender snorts. I’m not surprised. Unless he has a pair of fangs and the promise of forever, Hailey won’t want anything to do with the guy.

I wave as I move out from behind the bar. “Night, everyone.”

“Hot date?” calls someone from the far side of the counter.

Yeah, right. My love life has about as much a pulse as my roommate does. And since Aleks has been dead for more than two hundred years, that’s saying something.

Of course, that’s by choice. As much as I convince myself that any feelings I had for Ryker are long gone, I just can’t bring myself to start dating. Not yet, at least. Ten years is a hard habit to break, and it’s only been twelve months since I left him behind me.

I’ve got time. I might not live as long as a vamp does, but a shifter can do one, two centuries easy. I’m in no rush.

I roll my eyes. “You know it.”

Technically, it’s not a lie. I have a hot date with a cup of tea, the second season of a show I’ve been binging, and my bed. Wild Friday night for a twenty-six-year-old, but what can I say? I’m a shifter. Being wild—no matter how one defines it—is part of the job description.

Heh.

Stepping outside of Charlie’s, I glance up at the sky. Another habit that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to break. Even though I can always sense the moon, that doesn’t stop me from sneaking peeks up at the Luna as if she might’ve suddenly sprung a full moon on me or something.

Considering how it affects me, I like to be prepared.

Good news. Tonight she’s only a shade past the quarter moon, coming up on her waxing gibbous form. Still, that means I’ve only got less than a week until she’s full again and, for one night at least, I have to deal with being an unmated shifter on her own. Since I’m not looking forward to it, I shoot a smile up at the incomplete moon, then start toward home.

I decided earlier on my way to Charlie’s that I wanted to walk. It’s been a couple of days since the last time I shifted, and though I’m hesitant to go wolf in case it gets back to Roman, I use the twenty-block walk to burn off some more energy. A full shift at the bar usually is enough to stimulate my wolf, but I only did seven hours today, and that’s including the two extra I did for Hailey. This walk will do me good, and I need it.

Even though Muncie is an urban city full of vamps, I’m not worried about walking around by myself. I’m just as dangerous as anyone else that might be out there, and that’s not even accounting for my golden ticket in the form of a golden necklace. So when my wolf yips to get my attention? I listen.

I was busy thinking about what I wanted to cook for dinner—as a shifter, food is on my mind most of the time—and I wasn’t really watching where I was going. Why should I? When my shifter senses are always open, my wolf constantly aware in the background even when I’m in my skin, I can daydream without worrying about it.

Something in my wolf’s warning yip has me suddenly concerned.

I go still. Tilting my head slightly, I sample the scents on the breeze while listening carefully.

The sounds of the city are the same as they usually are. Cars. Chatter. Doors closing, dumpsters slamming. Rats scurrying in the distance. Vamps lurking around corners. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But… I sniff again.

No way.

I shake my head, but that doesn’t do anything to get the scent out of my nose. A very familiar yet, at the same time, unfamiliar scent.

A wolf.

I’d know it anywhere. And it’s not a wolf wolf. Oh, no.

It’s a shifter.

How?

As far as I know, I’m the only idiot reckless enough to call the vamp-ran city my home. But there’s no doubt that that’s a shifter’s scent, even if it belongs to a wolf that I don’t recognize.

Who are they, and what are they doing here?

More importantly, how did they breach the borders?

In a Fang City, supes like vampires and shifters are basically an open secret. While most humans are blissfully unaware that the supernatural walk among them, a select few make their living as willing blood donors. As employees—and, well, food—they’re owed some kind of protection and security. That’s why the Cadre—the vampire leadership who govern each individual vamp town—sends some of their strongest on patrol, keeping out undesirables around the clock. A constant perimeter check.

That’s what Aleksander was doing the night I fled Accalia. A vamp with some seniority, he spends most nights doing a full-turn, patrolling the entire border of Muncie to make sure that our community is safe and protected.

And if I understand that they’re basically protecting the vamps and humans who live here from the monstrous wolves who live in Accalia, I politely try to pretend I don’t for the sake of getting to live here myself.

I’m a shifter, yeah, but I’m a lone wolf. I turned my back on the pack a year ago, and I can’t imagine what a wolf is doing in Muncie now.

Well, no. I can. I totally can. But I don’t want to think that, after hiding out all of these months, they’ve finally figured out that this was where I ran off to. I don’t want to meet up with any other shifters, whether they’re looking for me or this is just one big coincidence. I also don’t want to have to deal with any vamps who might start questioning what I’m doing in town if it turns out one of my former packmates has tracked me down.

So, though I don’t often rely on it, there’s only one thing to do. Slipping my finger under my shirt, I pull my necklace out, letting it nestle between my boobs.

Just in case.