Bright City Lights
Rabb is an alpha shifter, a werewolf, who likes to defy both the odds and authority. He prefers the city lights over the open spaces most shifters enjoy.
Brant is a politician with a secret that's becoming harder and harder to contain. As mayor of Bright City, he's determined to keep the city free of shifters to keep his secret under wraps. More
There was brave, and then there was just butt stupid. Rabb Miller wasn’t sure which category the man glaring at him from across the space of only a couple of feet belonged in. Rabb was leaning toward stupid, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the guy had really pissed him off, or because it was true.
Rabb wasn’t used to people standing up to him. A natural alpha, he tended to just expect others to fall in line. When he said jump, most shifters and humans he encountered not only jumped but they didn’t touch the ground again until he told them it was okay.
Rabb especially didn’t like being told what to do—or more precisely—what he couldn’t do. That was just damn unacceptable. He stared down at the wiry little man standing a few feet away and let his alpha face slide into place, complete with eyes that might have glowed just the tiniest bit.
Amazingly, the little man didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Stupid was quickly gaining ground. “Mr. Miller, you can’t intimidate me. I’m here on behalf of the mayor. He has a strict ‘no shifter’ policy in Bright City and you’re in defiance of that policy just by being here. We’re asking real nice to start and then I’m going to have to get nasty.”
Rabb crossed his arms over his chest, his arms bulging and menace radiating out of every pore. “This is my place. You can’t come in here and start making demands.”
“You bought the place through dishonest means. You deserve to lose it.”
Rabb’s arms dropped and his hands fisted at his sides. “That’s a damn lie. I bought City Lights through my lawyer. She assures me she followed the letter of the law during the purchase and I believe her. Now I’d advise you to get your scrawny ass off my property this minute or I’ll throw you out myself.”
Demitre Glass pursed thin lips and held Rabb’s gaze a moment longer, as if to prove he wasn’t afraid. He glanced toward the bar, where Rabb’s second in command polished glasses with one eye focused on him. The mayor’s assistant finally smiled and inclined his head. “I guess that means you’re choosing to leave the hard way then. Fine. It will be my pleasure to take you down, Miller.”
“Get the hell out.” Rabb’s tone was deceptively quiet, almost mild. Anyone who knew him would take that as a sign to get as far away from him as possible, as quickly as they could.
The mayor’s assistant didn’t know Rabb nearly well enough. He turned toward the other side of the bar, where an extremely attractive blonde woman sat in a booth, sipping iced tea and flipping through papers in a folder. “Ms. Dexter, the mayor’s office will be contacting you shortly.”
She glanced up, her soft, green gaze radiating boredom. “Don’t waste your time, Glass. You don’t have a leg to stand on. Mr. Miller purchased this property legally and he has a right to be here.” She stood, striding toward Glass on long, shapely legs that caught the little man’s attention and held it. She stopped in front of him and extended a finger to poke him on the chest. “And you’re about ten seconds away from dire consequences if you don’t leave the premises.”
“Are you threatening me?” Glass’s hand came up to grab her finger. It never made it that far. In the blink of an eye it was enclosed in a hard, unrelenting grip. “Don’t. Ever. Touch.” Rabb bit each word off through a clenched jaw.
“I don’t need to threaten you, Mr. Glass.” Tamma Dexter told him. “Someone else has already done that. Now go, while walking is still an option.”
Glass looked from her to Rabb and forced a laugh. But it sounded more nervous than amused. “I’ll be back, Miller.”
“I’ll be sure to wear my funeral clothes. For when I lay you out.”