A Fistful of Charms Read Free

on his narrow nose, he took the stapled papers that Karen smugly handed him. “Forgive me if I’m a little slow,” he said, peering at them. “My secretaryusually does this.” He looked over the papers at me, pen clicking open. “Your pack number is what?”
    â€œHuh?” I said intelligently, then stiffened as the ring of Weres seemed to close in. Karen snickered, and my face warmed.
    Mr. Finley’s slight wrinkles bunched as he frowned. “You’re David’s alpha. Karen is challenging you for your place. There is paperwork. What is your pack number?”
    My mouth dropped open. This wasn’t about the Rays or the Howlers. I was the sole member of David’s pack, yeah. But it was just a paper relationship, one designed so I could get my overly inflated insurance cheap, cheap, cheap, and David could keep his job and buck the system to continue working alone and without a partner. He didn’t want a real pack, being a confirmed loner and good at it, but it was nearly impossible to fire an alpha, which was why he had asked me to start a pack with him.
    My gaze darted to Karen, smiling like the queen of the Nile, as dark and exotic as an Egyptian whore. She wanted to challenge me for my position?
    â€œOh, hell no!” I said, and Karen snorted, thinking I was afraid. “I’m not fighting her! David doesn’t want a real pack!”
    â€œObviously,” Karen scorned. “I claim ascension. Before eight packs, I claim it.”
    There weren’t eight alphas there anymore, but I thought the five that were left were more than enough to force the issue.
    Mr. Finley let the hand holding the sheet of papers fall. “Does anyone have a catalog? She doesn’t know her pack number.”
    â€œI do,” sang out a woman, swinging her purse around and digging to bring out what looked like a small address book. “New edition,” she added, and thumbed it open.
    â€œThis is nothing personal,” Mr. Finley said. “Your alpha has become the topic of interest at the water cooler, and this is the simplest way to get David back on track and end the disturbing rumors that have been reaching me. I have invitedthe principal shareholders in the company as witnesses.” He smiled without warmth. “This will be legally binding.”
    â€œThis is crap!” I said nastily, and the surrounding Weres either chuckled or gasped at my temerity to swear at him. Lips pressed tight, I glanced at my bag and the splat gun halfway across the room. My hand touched the small of my back, looking for my nonexistent cuffs, long gone with my I.S. paycheck. God, I missed my cuffs.
    â€œHere it is,” the woman said, her head lowered. “Rachel Morgan. O-C(H) 93AF.”
    â€œYou registered in Cincinnati?” David’s boss asked idly, writing it down. Folding the pages over, he fixed on my eyes. “David isn’t the first to start a pack with someone not of, ah, Were descent,” he finally said. “But he is the first in this company to do so with the sole intent to save his job. This is not a good trend.”
    â€œChallenger’s choice,” Karen said, reaching for the tie to her dress. “I choose to Were first.”
    David’s boss clicked the pen shut. “Then let’s get started.”
    Someone grabbed my arms, and I froze for three heartbeats. Challenger’s choice, my grandmother’s ass. I had five minutes to subdue her while she Wered, or I was going to lose this.
    I silently twisted, going down and rolling. There were several shouts when I knocked the feet out from whoever held me. Then my breath was crushed out of my lungs as someone else fell on me. Adrenaline surged painfully. Someone pinned my legs. Another pushed my head into the plaster-dust-covered plywood.
    They won’t kill me, I told myself as I spit the hair out of my mouth and tried to get a decent breath. This is some asinine Were