Real Good Wolf (Dirty Monsters Book 1)

  Real Good Wolf

  Dirty Monsters, #1

  Milana Jacks

  Real Good Wolf

  Dirty Monsters, #1

  Copyright 2018 Milana Jacks

  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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Unless you’ve seen sexy, dirty monsters (you must tell me!), any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Lonely Vampire Prince teaser

  Meet the Alpha Beast

  About the Author

  Milana’s Backlist

  Chapter One

  Amy

  Life was simple when I was a thirteen-year-old demon fostered into a great family. Then I went to college, got loans, graduated with a law degree, got a job, defended a rapist, quit the job, and returned to my family home in the small town of Forestvilas, California, right atop Idyllwild. My life should be simple now too, right?

  Wrong.

  In the bathroom of Snarl, the bar I work at, I wash my shaking hands, my gaze glued to the three-inch-by-one-inch plastic object with glaring pink stripes that say I’m pregnant. I grab the stick and tuck it into the front pocket of my black apron, then return behind the bar. My hands won’t stop shaking. I cross them over my chest and lean back against the counter, permagrin in place for the last customer of the night. I hope the practiced smile doesn’t look like a grimace, because nobody tips a nasty bartender. People come here to dump their load on me and not the other way around.

  Glancing at the clock above my head, Bernie tips his last drink. Without turning around, I know it’s well past two in the morning, and we can’t serve anymore. Even though he’s a town native, he’ll give me shit for the curfew. I reach over and flip on the lights.

  Bernie flinches but doesn’t leave. “Sweetheart, won’t you pour an ol’ man another?”

  “I need this job, and Pryus is gonna walk in any minute now.” Butterflies flutter in my belly the moment I say my boss’s name. Pryus is the sexiest, most infuriating wolf ever born. I’m crazy in love with the guy, and since our fight over him closing his strip bar so I wouldn’t have a place to strip, we haven’t spoken more than necessary. We talk business at the end of my shift, and that’s about it. Pryus wrote me off.

  Bernie pushes the empty glass across the bar. “Top it off, sweets. A tiny bit for the road.”

  I shake my head, tempted to mind-fuck him into leaving or even reorganizing his memories so he believes himself a golfer, not an alcoholic. The latter would mean I’d actually help the man, and doing good deeds is against demon nature. I uncross my arms and glare. “Get out of here before your wife comes.”

  “Bitch,” he says and attempts to leave the stool. The chair tips, and Bernie falls flat on his face.

  Now, I could walk around and help him up, but I’m unsure if he called his wife a bitch or me. I spin around, ring him up, get the receipt, and slap it on the bar. He’s gonna stiff me for sure. I need every dollar I can get, but I can’t sell my soul for the good deed. I’m not an angel.

  “Bernie, you all right?” I don’t really care if he is or not. Nobody gives a shit if I’m good or not. I’m pregnant, and baby-daddy hates my guts.

  My patron mumbles something, and I’m pretty sure he’s falling asleep. Shoot me.

  The sound of a Harley rolls in. Headlights blind me, then die out as my boss shuts off the engine and enters the bar. Here be sexy wolf Pryus, who knocked me up. He’s wearing black boots, jeans, a white T-shirt, and the Vice President MC cut of a biker gang member he’d killed for covering up his sister’s disappearance. His jaw is strong, his eyes are gray, and his body makes mine sing. I fist my hands at my sides. They’re sweating. I have news for him, and I don’t know how to go about it. Awkward doesn’t sum it up. He’s barely speaking to me.

  Pryus spies Bernie under the bar. Without a word, he shoulders the old man and walks out. The door closes behind them, leaving me standing as if paralyzed. I don’t know how to approach Pryus with the big news. I don’t know if he wants this baby or not. We are not on good terms anymore. We had a thing, and now we don’t. To be honest, neither of us considered the possibility of a pregnancy when we banged each other’s brains out. He never mentioned it, and I honestly didn’t think a wolf could get a demon pregnant.

  Because of the way we’re created, we shouldn’t be able to procreate. The thirteen-year-old girl whose body houses my soul had attempted suicide. As she lay comatose, my dad gave her a new soul, mine, and I inherited her memories and took over her mind. Though I have all the right female reproductive parts, I never heard of a wolf and a demon having a child, so I didn’t think to worry about getting pregnant. Now I am reaping what I’d sown.

  Bitterness about Pryus closing the strip club grows as I count tonight’s tips. When I stripped, I made more in one night than I did working a day in the courtroom defending a rapist. I’ll never forget the case that sent me back home and inevitably into Pryus’s strong arms, where I found shelter and warmth even though I never told him what he provided for me. I ought to leave his bar in protest at him closing the club and cutting out my wages. I can’t, though, because I need the job, while he doesn’t need me. At least I attempt casual conversation while Pryus is basically ignoring me.

  The door opens with a jingle.

  “I’m almost done,” I say and bundle the money.

  “I’ll just be a second.”

  Shit. I spin around and face the vampire on the doorstep. Not just any vampire, but Prince Sevile, who’s looking amused, a big smile on his handsome face. His green eyes twinkle, and he leans a hand on the door. He can’t step inside. This is wolf pack’s turf, and he needs an invitation. I ain’t giving him one.

  “Demon child,” he says. “I hear there was a bar fight in here about two months ago. A man needed a mind wipe, and you stole a job under my nose.”

  Maybe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He chuckles. “I found the man you worked on and searched his mind. I know he was tampered with, and I sensed a demonic presence. You are the only demon in the area capable of mind control.”

  “It’s not mind control.”

  “Semantics. You owe me money.”

  Dirty, Pryus’s twin brother, alpha of the local wolves and my sister’s mate, had attacked a human in the bar. The human saw a bit too much of Dirty’s wolf. The supernatural community, or supes for short, hates those sightings, as we keep our existence under wraps. In such cases, the vamps wipe the memories for a price. Prince Sevile expects to get those types of jobs. Seeing as how I witnessed the scuffle and I needed the extra cash, I negotiated a deal with Dirty. It was how I got to strip at the club on the hottest nights, and how Dirty had given me work defending his case as a bonus. Unlike the vamps, I can’t wipe minds. I disorganize memories. I thought I’d covered my tracks well but Sevile is a vamp on steroids, capable of a lot more than a simple mind wipe. “Dirty paid me five hundred bucks for the job.”

  Sevile widens his eyes. “You mean five thousand.”
<
br />   “I mean five hundred.”

  Sevile smirks. “I charge five grand. You owe me five grand. I’ll be back in a week.” He winks and walks away. A subtle threat. Sevile doesn’t need the money. He’s making a point. His mother is a demon, or more precisely, a soul collector. All debts to demons have to be paid, and if I owe Sevile, it’s as if I owe his mother. She could collect my demonic soul. I like my stained soul, thank you very much. But I don’t have his five grand.

  Pryus rounds the corner and sniffs at the door. “Sevile was here?”

  Oh, now he wants to talk to me. Well, I’m not in the mood. If Pryus hadn’t closed the strip club, I’d be able to hand over Sevile’s five grand. As a demon, shady practices like making men give me their entire paychecks is my specialty. It feeds my soul. Pryus used to be possessive and into me, but the moment I showed my true nature, he blocked my income and ceased our sexual escapades. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know he was getting it on with a demon. I look like a human, walk and talk like one, but on the inside, I am what I am.

  Instead of answering, I tuck a wad of dollars and the short paper from the register inside our cash-out pouch and head for his office.

  Pryus is huge. He’s three times wider than I am, so it’s an issue when he stands in the narrow space behind the bar. I do my best to squeeze past him, making sure I rub my ass over his dick. Pryus is always hard. It wets my panties thinking about the huge thing in his pants. His dick is glorious and wide. It hurts good every time.

  Pryus used to groan and slap my ass whenever I rubbed it on his crotch. Not anymore. He doesn’t even notice me. As he finishes up behind the bar, I stand down the hall at the office’s door, thinking about us. What the hell happened? Okay, so I didn’t chase a commitment from him, but the sex was fantastic. Because I wanted to make more money stripping—so I could keep my super-cute loft and pay off my student loans—he got all bent out of shape. Trust me, earning a semihonest living is far better than what I can do with my demonic mind powers.

  Pryus cashes me out without a word. I get my stuff and pedal my bicycle home.

  I sit in the dark often. As often as possible. It soothes my soul and clears my head. My bedroom is a black sanctuary, curtains blocking the moonlight outside. I’m pregnant. Pryus doesn’t want me. He might want the baby, but I can't know for sure. Sevile will return in a week and ask for his money. If I don’t have it, I don’t want to think about the things he or his mom could do to me. Demons aren’t like wolves or vampires. Wolves have packs and vampires have covens, while I have neither to lean on for support. Demons walk the earth solo. We barely tolerate each other for more than a few hours.

  I’m on my own.

  I get my trusty pen and paper. In the dark, everything is clear, including my vision. I jot down what I need.

  1. 5k

  2. …

  I leave number two blank. I don’t know what to do about the baby. But I know what I can do about Sevile’s debt. I need to return to Los Angeles and get my old life back.

  Chapter Two

  Pryus

  The moon lights the forest as I ride out to Snarl so I can close up Amy’s shift. Forestvilas reminds me of Colorado’s mountain ranges where Pops took us for runs before my brother and I moved down here and formed a pack of our own. It’s quiet and peaceful, perhaps a bit too quiet, but I don’t mind, because Amy lives here. My bar is more of a chore than a pleasure, but Amy works there, so I put up with the crap from ol’ Bernie’s wife every night I dump his drunken ass on their living room couch.

  Last night, she ripped me a new one, saying I should ban her ol’ man from entering my bar because he couldn’t help himself. Not on my agenda, and I left their house as fast as I could. Here’s to hoping I don’t gotta take him home again tonight. I need some time with Amy, and it won’t be fun. I’m gonna force her to go on vacation. Tonight marks her twenty-second shift in a row, plus, during the day, she works at her office in town. The girl takes no breaks. I’m unsure if she sleeps at all, and it concerns me. Hell, I almost regret closing the strip club where she made a lot of money. Almost.

  Amy is my mate. I know she’s mine because I licked her pussy and tasted she was mine. I had her pussy on my mouth so many times, I’m surprised I’m not wearing it on my face. No more pussy for me. Amy needs to understand I’m not gonna tolerate disobedience or her showing her tits to anyone else besides me. The lesson is a hard one and absolutely necessary, because demons can’t behave for shit.

  Giving Amy the cold shoulder is tough. My wolf seeks her attention. I want to hold her and tell her everything’s gonna be fine, especially when I see how hard she works on being a human. Demons aren’t known for straight ways such as earning a living from legitimate jobs. They are known for corruption and every manner of crime one can imagine. Stripping is a legitimate job, my brain supplies. Still, I couldn’t have her on the stage. My wolf is way too possessive for that.

  I park my bike and walk inside the bar the way I go about my business every night. Natie, Amy’s sister and my brother’s mate, smiles as I walk in.

  “Hey, boss,” she says, her eyes on my lips.

  “Hey, girl.” I round the bar and peck her on the cheek. I step back so she can read my lips, because Natie can’t hear. “Amy’s sick?” I ask.

  Natie shrugs. “Don’t know. She said she had shit to do, people to see, and asked if I could take her shift.” Natie folds one corner of her apron. A nervous gesture.

  I narrow my eyes. Unlike Amy, Natie isn’t a good liar, and she appears a bit nervous around me when she shouldn’t be. Just being around me should give her comfort seeing as how her mate is my twin and I’ve known Natie for a while now.

  I pick up the cash-out pouch and peek inside. At this time of year, business is slow, and Amy can’t afford the absence. “She might have very important shit to do,” I say. “But I’m her boss, and she should’ve called me. No?”

  I expect an answer but get none. Right. I turn around and repeat myself, making sure Natie can read my lips.

  “We cover each other’s shifts without calling you all the time,” she says.

  “From now on, everyone should call me.”

  “Oh, okay. Patty is taking her boy to the dentist on Thursday morning, so Sandy is gonna trade her for her Wednesday. Then Dirty and I are going on vacation next weekend. Sandy is taking on my Saturday. Not sure about Sunday. Who can I get for Sunday? Patty? Oh no, Patty has the golf lessons, but I think Frankie—”

  I raise my hand. “I take it back. Keep up the good work.” I look around the empty bar. “Where’s my brother?”

  “Running around the woods.”

  “Why?” It’s nearing three in the morning.

  “Some kids thought it’d be fun to start a fire. He went to chase them.” She clears her throat. “With at least twenty pack mates.”

  I grin. “I’ll take you home, then.”

  “No need.” Natie holds up Dirty’s car keys and jiggles them. “I got my driver’s license back.”

  “It was stolen?”

  “Suspended.”

  We’re all just a bunch of law-abiding citizens. “Why?”

  “Parking tickets.”

  Not bad. “Okay, girl, drive safe.” My pack’s on the run. The wilderness should call my wolf. I should be antsy to join them. Instead, I go into my office, close the safe, punch in the digital code scrambler, and stare at the random draw numbers that appear. It’s kind of like the lottery. Six-six-six. “For fuck’s sake.” I take off my clothes and go wolf. Instead of running after my pack, I sprint to Amy’s.

  My brother sure likes to mark his territory. He pissed on all four corners of Amy’s house, where his mate Natie used to live before they got their own place. He pissed all over their garden too. I’m growling as I stroll past the apple tree and sniff out another wolf’s territory. It’s as if he pissed on my mate. I lift my leg and piss over his mark just so there’s no confusion that Amy is mine.

  That solved, I immediately fe
el better and rise on my hind legs so I can see through Amy’s bedroom window. My night vision is better in wolf than it is in human, but it does nothing for me. Amy’s curtains are drawn. I sniff around the house and smell her tracks leading to and from the house.

  In the back of the house, I change into a man and return to the front door. I stand there, hands on my hips, thinking. Should I knock? Amy’s sleeping, and knocking’s gonna wake her up. She needs sleep. I back off, change back into wolf, and go for a run. I’ll pass by her office tomorrow morning.

  Chapter Three

  Amy

  My first morning back on the coast, I stretch and yawn, then open the glass doors to the balcony of my loft. Malibu Beach. I inhale the salty air and smile, allowing the vast expanse of the Pacific to suppress my troubles. Malibu is nothing like the Forestvilas wilderness, but impressive nonetheless. The weather is perfect, the crowds are quiet, and the waves fold over the sand as if inviting me.

  The mortgage on the loft is outrageous, however, and I’ve thought about selling it countless times. It’s when I return here that I remember why I bought it in the first place. Whenever I step outside, I feel as if it cleanses my soul. I lean my elbows on the railing and people-watch, wishing I got my sunglasses from the purse upstairs in the bedroom. Too lazy to fetch them, I squint my eyes.

  A man is jogging. I recognize him. It’s my former boss at G, G, and G Law Firm. I could definitely get my old job back. Bottom lip between my teeth, I’m thinking I should intercept his jog, pretend it’s a coincidence, and feel the man out. By now, he’d have filled my position, but I left a good impression and didn’t burn bridges, so he might, at least, hook me up with someone who can give me a job.