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  Wolves & Monsters

  Siren Problems Book One

  Dyan Chick

  Illaria Publishing

  Contents

  1. Angie

  2. Angie

  3. Angie

  4. Angie

  5. Angie

  6. Jason

  7. Angie

  8. Angie

  9. Jason

  10. Jason

  11. Angie

  12. Jason

  13. Angie

  14. Jason

  15. Angie

  16. Angie

  17. Jason

  18. Angie

  19. Angie

  20. Angie

  21. Angie

  22. Jason

  23. Angie

  24. Jason

  25. Angie

  26. Jason

  27. Angie

  28. Angie

  29. Angie

  30. Jason

  31. Angie

  32. Angie

  Author Notes

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Illaria Publishing LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by Dyan Chick

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Artwork by Sanja Gombar

  Editing by Elizabeth A. Lance

  Created with Vellum

  One

  Angie

  The usual crowd was gathered. Men in suits, jackets abandoned and top buttons unbuttoned. Women in pencil skirts and nearly sheer blouses with too-high heels. The occasional person already dolled up for a night on the town even though it wasn't even after six yet. It was your typical Friday night happy hour crowd, grabbing a drink with coworkers, clients, or crushes before they went home to their mundane lives.

  The senseless chatter was occasionally punctuated by a woman laughing too loud or a man slamming a finished beer mug too hard on the bar top. The odd language of attraction that humans dabbled in. Even though I'd lived my whole life masquerading as one of them, I always felt like an outsider. Especially on a night like tonight when I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.

  I took a sip of my martini and tried not to let my thoughts drift to him. I was better off on my own. I knew that. Being a siren meant that I was cursed with the ability to lure men in who might not actually love me. Which meant, I never actually knew if they did love me. So of course that meant I had to throw away the first guy I let myself fall for before he broke my heart. It was easier to break his. That was the game I was used to. That was how my world worked.

  Cursing silently, I tossed the rest of the drink back, then fished out the olives before setting the glass back on the bar.

  "Another, Angie?"

  I scooted the glass toward, Charli, the perky blonde bartender who always worked Friday nights. She had curves for days, paired with a cute nose, and a sassy pixie haircut. She looked sweet, but she handled the assholes like a pro.

  "Here you go, love," she said.

  "Thanks." I picked up the glass and took another sip. Angie had stopped trying to engage me in conversation months ago. I adored her for that. She was perfectly fine with letting me sit and drink alone. We seemed to have an understanding that I wasn't able to reach with most humans.

  It wasn't that I wanted to spend every Friday night alone at a bar. There were just things about being a siren that I couldn't avoid. I needed company, companionship, and people. It was like a drug that I couldn't break. When I was younger, I'd tried more intimate companionship to get my fix, but it never turned out well for the men I slept with. I wasn't a succubus; if only it were that simple. It was as if they were cursed once they spent the night in my bed.

  At first, I thought it was a coincidence. The boy I lost my virginity to was hit by a bus a week after we had sex. The next guy I hooked up with drowned. He was an all-state swimmer. The third one got stung by a jellyfish. Seriously? A jellyfish?

  I mean, technically, it's not my fault. And the sirens in the old stories killed the guys by actually killing them. With their own hands. They were messed up. Sirens today weren't like that. I don't know a whole lot of sirens, but the few I've talked to didn't have the same problem I did. I think I was just cursed. I suppose it was possible. Curses were a thing. I just didn't have any proof that a curse was my problem. Instead, I avoided relationships of any kind for the most part.

  Now, I only hooked up with guys a few times a year when I let my judgement lapse. I looked down at my empty martini glass and pushed it toward Charli for another refill.

  I opened the pictures app on my phone and scrolled back to the beginning, clicking on the only photo I'd saved of him. Amber eyes stared up at me from a stubble covered face.

  "Seriously, Angie?" Charli asked as she passed me a fresh drink. "You're looking at the photo again. You told me to stop you if I saw you looking at it."

  I smiled. Though our conversations had been limited, she had managed to get that out of me on a particularly difficult night. It had taken a good six or seven cocktails, but I got chattier with her than usual. I wasn't thrilled with the idea that she knew something so personal about me, but the conversation that night had prevented me from taking anyone to my bed.

  Someone cleared their throat behind me and I glanced over my shoulder, glass at my lips. A tall man with close cropped dark hair, hazel eyes, and a trimmed dark beard was smiling at me.

  Fuck. It might be one of the judgement lapse kind of nights, after all.

  "Seat taken?" tall, dark, and handsome asked.

  I took a sip of my martini, trying to convince myself to tell him to fuck off. That would be the sensible thing to do. Men can't help it. They're drawn to me and once I speak, they're toast. I was too depressed to decline. "It's all yours."

  He grinned as he sat down on the stool. Poor bastard. I should have sent him away, but I don't always make good choices. Sometimes you need a senseless one night stand to keep you from fixating on your ex, right?

  "I'll have a Sapphire and tonic," he called to Charli. "And another martini for the lady."

  Charli raised an eyebrow at me as if waiting for me to object. Typically, I did. Tonight, I didn't have the strength to go home alone. I nodded to her.

  Charli glanced at the phone that was still in my hand and I could feel her judging me as she turned around so she could make the drinks.

  "I'm Magnus," the man said, extending his hand.

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. It was so clearly a made up name. I took his hand and felt a tiny surge of magic. Of course he was a mage. I wouldn't expect anything less from a guy who called himself Magnus. I let go of his hand and hoped he wasn't overcompensating for a tiny dick.

  "Angie," I said.

  "You come here often, Angie?" he asked.

  "Sure," I said. "It's a popular place."

  Charli set drinks down in front of us and Magnus slid a credit card to her without taking his eyes off me. "Keep the tab open."

  I lifted an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smirk. Guy was smooth. Practiced in seduction. He might be a fair match for me. Feeling a little less guilty about letting him sit next to me, I set my hand on top of his. "Why don't you close out the tab and we can take this party somewhere more intimate?"

  No need to prolong the inevitable.

  His eyes nearly bulged from his head. He might be gifted in
seduction, but he'd clearly been turned down often enough that a girl as forward as me was a surprise.

  "Close it out?" Charli asked, clearly realizing the time for trying to steer me away from a poor choice had passed.

  "Go ahead," Magnus said.

  Charli walked away with the card and Magnus took a long pull of his drink.

  I emptied my martini and started on the fresh one he'd ordered for me. I think I was at drink number five for the night. One of the downsides to being a supernatural, or supe, was that it took a lot of alcohol for me to feel its affects. Five wasn't enough. Six should get me nice and warm. Just taking the edge of my judgement off enough that I'd follow through with this.

  I pulled the little plastic sword with the olives out of my glass and plucked the first olive off with my teeth. Then, I leaned closer to Magnus and sucked the second olive into my mouth. "Your place or mine?"

  He looked like he was ready to take me right here on the bar top. If it weren't for the fact that I needed my job, I might have let him. I was feeling that restless tonight. The shock factor would have sated my lust for years. Alas, I was sure in this age of cell phones and technology, it would be on my boss's desk in minutes. And nobody was going to hire a publicist who had sex on a bar with a stranger.

  "I'm three blocks from here," he said.

  "I'm one block," I said.

  He leaned in so close I could taste the gin on his breath. "Your place it is."

  Two

  Angie

  The doorman's brow furrowed slightly as I walked in with Magnus. He quickly regained his blank expression and took his eyes off of me. I'd lived here for three years and I'd never brought a man home. It had been that long since I'd broken down. But tonight was a special kind of pain. Tonight was the anniversary of the night I walked away from the one. As soon as I felt the mating bond click into place, I booked it. I'd moved three states away, claimed a new identity, and started over. It was the kind of thing people usually did to flee from the terrible guys. I did it to escape the only good one I'd ever met.

  The elevator dinged and I grabbed Magnus's hand, tossing him a flirty smile as I pulled him on after me.

  His eyelids were heavy, his gaze slightly unfocused, goofy smile on his lips. He looked three sheets to the wind, but it wasn't the booze doing this to him. I was a siren and I was in heat. He was drunk on lust. That's how we sirens rolled. Even if I wasn't really cursed, being a siren was enough of a curse on its own. I rarely let my magic free. It was challenging to keep it contained, but it was possible. Tonight, I opened the flood gates.

  Magnus was on me like an octopus, hands grabbing every part of my body they could. Mouth on my neck, my cheek, my lips, my ear, wherever he could find a place to stick it.

  He pressed his hips up against my leg and he moaned as his erection pressed into my thigh.

  I had to admit, my pulse was racing and my face felt flush. Tingles spread down my chest to between my legs and I clenched against the sudden arousal. It had been so long since I'd had a man.

  I broke away from his grip and he whined like a puppy who'd just been batted on the nose.

  I grabbed his chin and held it so I could move in, planting my mouth firmly on his. I slid my tongue in as our lips moved together. He moaned and I could sense tension leaving his body. He was mine to command.

  If I wanted to, I could tell him to jump out of a window. Or rob a bank. In this state, he was helpless to resist anything I asked him. It was why sirens had such a bad rep. And part of why they either kept hidden like me or joined whichever organization they could find that would let them exploit their magic.

  The elevator dinged again and the doors slid open. I pulled away from Magnus. "Come on, lover boy."

  We were alone as we walked down the hallway. I lived in a nice apartment building. My neighbors were all investment bankers, and lawyers, and trust fund babies. Most of them would be home later after working late or spending few hours of drinking.

  I pulled my key out of my purse and unlocked the door. Magnus stood next to me, still staring at me with slightly unfocused eyes and that ridiculous grin. For a moment, I considered sending him away. But my willpower folded. I needed the distraction.

  I grabbed his collar and pulled him into my one bedroom apartment, already working the buttons of his shirt before I'd even closed the door. I splayed my hands wide on his bare, muscled chest before sliding my hands up his shoulders and easing the shirt away from him.

  It fell to the ground. I smiled. "What are you waiting for?"

  That was all it took. Magnus reached around and unzipped my dress with practiced hands, tugging it down off my shoulders and past my hips until it fell in a puddle around my heels.

  I stepped over it, closing the space between us. Reaching behind my back, I unclasped my black, lace bra, then slid it off and tossed it aside.

  Magnus scooped me up and lifted me over his shoulder caveman style. I squealed, surprised at the sudden move and impressed by his strength.

  He paused and glanced from side to side as if trying to decide where to deposit me. Turning, he headed down the hall to where my bedroom door was wide open, revealing my king size bed. It might not get a lot of use, but a girl needs her space.

  He tossed me on the bed then stood in front of it, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

  I had a feeling it was more from arousal than the act of carrying me. I patted the bed. "Are you going to join me or keep me waiting all night?"

  He grinned, then slid his slacks off revealing his lack of underwear underneath. His erection stood at attention, ready for action.

  I licked my lips and arched my back, spreading my legs wide. I still had my panties on, but the thigh highs didn't impede his view of the black lace that did little to cover me.

  He jumped onto the bed then crawled to me, positioning himself between my thighs. His head went down between my legs, starting on my inner thighs, kissing his way up to the black lace.

  I lifted my hips. It was all the encouragement he needed to pull the panties off. As soon as they were tossed to the side, his tongue made contact with my clit and I moaned.

  Magnus might have a stupid name, but his mouth knew its way around a woman's vagina.

  Three

  Angie

  I turned and my feet came in contact with something cold. Startled, I sat up and realized it was morning. And my one night stand from last night was still here. Fuck. Had I not told him to go home? I didn't want to deal with the morning after. My vagina was sore and I wasn't in the mood for morning sex.

  Magnus had turned out to be a good choice, but now that it was over, I wanted my bed back to myself.

  I climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom, making as much noise as possible along the way. Hopefully, by the time I returned to my room, he'd be gone. I was sure he had even less interest in awkward morning after conversation than I did.

  I took my time washing my face and brushing my teeth. I even ran a hairbrush through my hair to make sure he felt like it was safe to sneak out. Finally, I opened the door and peeked out.

  He was still there.

  He wasn't even awake. He'd slept through my door slamming and hard footsteps. Frowning, I walked back to the bed, prepared to shake him awake and give him a lame story about my mother coming over or something.

  I didn't get all the way to the bed. My blood ran cold and my eyes widened in terror. Magnus wasn't sleeping. His eyes were wide open. His lips were blue. Magnus was dead.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The last thing I needed was a dead body in my bed. While I knew it was possible he'd end up dead, I never thought it would be so soon. Every past partner had ended up in a freak accident a few days after we hooked up. This was too soon.

  Panic surged through me, making my nerve endings feel like they were on fire. I had to figure out how to handle this. I didn't have friends here. Not real friends, anyway. I could compel someone to help me, I guessed. I could probably even convi
nce the cops to haul away the body and ask zero questions. It wasn't as if they could prove I killed him, I mean, it wasn't like there were any signs of injury. He probably had a heart attack or something.

  Taking a deep breath, I grabbed Magnus's wallet off of the bedside table and opened it, figuring I should probably know his real name before I called anyone. Slowly, I pulled out his driver's license. A second card came out with it. A card that anyone in the supe community would recognize.

  Oh fuck.

  Not only was Magnus his actual name on his driver's license, he was a member of the Shadow Club.

  It wouldn't matter what I said to the cops or how much I charmed the pants off of any of them. The Shadow Club owned the cops. They'd probably send their own people with them to a murder call. Especially for one of their own.

  My powers worked on humans and mages, but if the Shadow Club was as good as they said, they'd probably send over some shifters and then I'd be truly fucked. There was no way they'd find me innocent, even if the death was an accident.

  I had no hope of getting out of this alive if a whisper of my involvement got to them. I looked around my apartment, a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't stay here and I needed help.

  Clenching my fists, I tried to tell myself that I'd gotten too soft living here. The cushy job and huge paycheck had stripped me of my connection to my magic. I couldn't even feel rainstorms approach anymore. I was weak and out of practice. I glared at the body, the initial shock wearing off. Now, I had a body to dispose of and nobody to help me.