Iron Flats Maverick (Shifter Realms Book 4)
Iron Flats Maverick
Shifter Realms
Elle Thorne
Contents
Iron Flats Maverick
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Afterword
The Shifters Forever Worlds
Shifter Realms
Sci-Fi Romance by Elle Thorne
Thank You So Much!
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Iron Flats Maverick
ShifterFest: Spring Break meets Lollapalooza in Twilight. With hot wolf shifters.
ShifterFest is held somewhere different every year. This year, it’s south of the Olympic National Forest in Washington, and Score Flanigan’s doing security. Every pack has to contribute two males—called tributes—to the cause. But hey, don’t go confusing them with the Hunger Games. This has nothing to do with that. They were called tributes long before some woman decided to write about kids killing each other in a post-apocalyptic world.
Score was planning to meet himself a wolf-honey for the night—until he was informed he was doing security. Humans aren’t technically involved. In fact, they aren’t wanted. This is a “Shifters Only” event.
It’s all about fellowship. Grown-up fun. Drinking. Carousing. The Wolf Council meets and discusses business. Some arrange marriages because that’s what some packs still do. Others get together to see family in other packs. A huge party.
Journalist Bliss Thompson heard there was a big thing happening. Hey, it only took her eight years to get a degree. Don’t judge. And now, if she wants a job, she has to prove herself to the editor of the local paper by getting a story. And her friend Hailey has found a doozy of a story. Sure, Hailey says it involves a werewolf festival, but everyone knows werewolves aren’t real. Still, it should be fun.
Chapter One
Bliss Thompson didn’t grow up in Seattle, but she’d certainly come to love it. She strode down Leary Avenue, heading toward Señor Moose Café, her fave spot to get a drink in the Ballard area—a cool waterfront neighborhood with popular restaurants, indie shops, bars, and a few craft breweries. All based around historic Ballard Avenue, close to the spot where ships and salmon passed through the locks. She loved sitting at the nearby sandy beach at Golden Gardens Park, with its splendid mountain views. The beach drew sunbathers and volleyball players. Nearby, the Nordic Heritage Museum displayed the area’s Scandinavian roots.
But the touristy settings in Seattle weren’t what were on her mind at the moment. No sir. Back to Señor Moose Café and her favorite drink. No simple concoction for mere mortals, it was a nectar for the gods. And it was her favorite was one of the house’s special margaritas. Though, of course, she was fully mortal and completely human. The staff called the potent beverage La Ultima. Bliss preferred to call it heaven on earth. With Roca Patrón reposado tequila, orange liqueur, and a float of Grand Marnier, two of La Ultima were guaranteed to take all the pain away.
Right now, she needed something to take the pain away. And a good friend to talk to. Someone to listen to her problems. After stepping inside Señor Moose’s, she glanced at the time on her phone. Six o’clock. Hailey should be arriving soon, if she wasn’t already here. Hailey was the punctual one. Bliss, not so much.
“Mark. She’s here.” Hailey’s voice carried over the happy hour crowd, letting their usual bartender know Bliss had arrived and would be ready for her drink.
Boy, was she right, especially today. Of course, Hailey didn’t know this yet. She had no idea what Bliss was about to share with her.
“How was your day?” Hailey pushed one La Ultima closer to Bliss.
“Don’t ask.” She pouted. Not one of those cutesy pouts you’d give a guy you wanted to think you were totally kissable either. Nope, this was one of those, let your ride or die see how much your day sucked kind of pouts.
Ten minutes and half a La Ultima later, with a buzz beginning to set in, she’d brought Hailey up to speed.
“I can’t believe he won’t put you on the payroll.”
“Fucker,” Bliss said, nice and low because they weren’t completely alone, not during a Thursday night happy hour. “It’s like I don’t have a degree in journalism. Like I didn’t create the most successful blog this side of Denver for my thesis.” And she had.
She’d wanted that job. Had counted on getting a position at the paper.
“At least he said you could do some provisional work. Prove yourself and such.” That was Hailey, always seeing on the bright side. “All we need to do is find you the killer story of the century.”
“Killer? Have you looked at things lately? There’s nothing going on worth writing about. Nothing that would secure me a regular paycheck.”
That was how the conversation went for the duration of the La Ultima and for the next one, too. Somewhere between the two—each!—Las Ultimas, they split an order of Enchiladas Suizas, a divine concoction of chicken in a creamy green salsa.
“Let’s go meet some hunks to pound—” Hailey giggled. “I mean take the worries right out of us.”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m going home.” To sulk. She couldn’t tell Hailey that.
“You sure? I could use a wingman.”
“As if. You do great on your own.”
And Hailey did. She was gorgeous.
Maybe tequila hadn’t been the answer. Bliss didn’t feel any better. She’d been counting on that job. Why’d they call her in for an interview if they didn’t have a paid position, dammit.
“See you after a while.” Hailey gave her a quick hug. “I’m going to see what Morgan’s up to tonight. Ta for now.”
Bliss waved bye, already almost to the door of Señor Moose Café.
The disjointed sound of her cell phone vibrating and skittering across her nightstand jarred Bliss awake. She fumbled for it while the glaring neon of her digital alarm clock—why did it seem atypically bright?—made her squint.
The phone evaded her clumsy fingers as she crawled closer to the nightstand. Tequila made her fuzzy and tonight seemed worse than usual.
Finally, she succeeded in wrangling the damned phone. Her fingers groped to swipe without even looking to see who was calling.
This better be good.
She managed a full swipe and raised the phone to her ear. She didn’t want to try
to turn it to speakerphone—her preferred method of talking on her cell—while her vision was blurry and her mind was foggy. If she did, she’d likely hang up on the person instead of pressing the speaker button.
Before she had a chance to say hello, Hailey squealed in her ear. “I found it!”
Bliss turned the alarm clock to face away and yet closed her eyes. Why did everything seem so bright still? “Hailey, you better be calling to say your car broke down or—”
“I found the perfect article! It’s like spring break but way better!”
“Wha— Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine! Did you not hear me?” Loud music blared in the background but didn’t impede Hailey’s excited screeches.
“What article?” Bliss grumbled. Drunk calling wasn’t Hailey’s thing. Drunk texting, sure. But not drunk calling.
“Hang on.” The music grew louder for a moment then fell to a dull distant roar. “I had to step outside. I could barely hear you. I found the article that is guaranteed to get you the job you want at the paper. They’ll beg you to stay on.”
“What’s the article about?”
“Werewolves.”
Bliss choked on her laughter, the sour taste of tequila in the back of her throat. Or maybe it was the enchiladas combined with the tequila. “Seriously, Hailz, are you that drunk?”
“I’m not drunk at all. I’ve been bouncing from one bar to another, but I’ve hardly drank anything since you left.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“Bliss, are you for fucking real right now? I just told you I had the perfect article for you. I told you what it’s about, and you don’t seem the least bit interested or excited.”
“Werewolves.” Bliss let the word roll off her tongue, trying to contain the sarcasm and failing completely.
“I know, right? It’s crazy.” Hailey would not be deterred. And she obviously didn’t have an ear for sarcasm. “But here’s the thing. It will make for a great title, and if it’s not true, and you can go about disproving it. But anyway, it’s a huge deal and—”
“Where did you even hear about this?”
Hailey sucked in a deep breath, like she was getting ready to go on a spiel. “I was in the restroom at Dante’s.” A favorite spot of theirs to go to after Señor Moose’s. She blew out air and inhaled more, the sound loud. “There were two girls talking while I was in the back stall. They were going on and on about the hot guys that would be there and how, this time, it would be west of the reservation, south of Olympic National Forest. How it was a secret, and no one could know, and humans weren’t allowed. Then she said something about a hot wolf.”
“Reaaally.” Bliss couldn’t control the exasperation setting in. She was losing sleep for this?
“Would you stop? Please? Just listen.”
She fumbled and focused to press for the cell screen to go to speaker, succeeded, then placed the phone next to her pillow on the bed, letting her head drop to the mattress. “I’m listening.”
“You sound like you’re going back to sleep.”
“I’m listening.” She closed her eyes and prayed she’d be able to stay awake.
Chapter Two
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Score Flanigan slammed his truck door and whirled around to face his alpha, Keith Dorsett.
Keith didn’t back down. He wasn’t the kind to. Reason why he was alpha. He’d take it to blows if needed.
It wouldn’t come to that. Score had too much respect for Keith. He’d earned his spot as leader of the Crooked Arrow pack.
“I need you to do it this year.”
“I did it—” Score paused, trying to remember the last time he’d served.
“Exactly.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s been six years since you served as tribute.”
Score was being called to do security for ShifterFest. Every pack had to contribute two males—or tributes—to the cause. But hey, these weren’t to be confused with the Hunger Games. This had nothing to do with a movie. They’d been called Tribute long before some woman decided to write about kids killing each other in a post-apocalyptic world.
Score had particularly been looking forward to attending ShifterFest again this year. His plan involved meeting himself a wolf-honey for the night. For all the nights actually, because ShifterFest was a weeklong event of debauchery, drinking, and contests while the ones who ran the packs had to overdose in meeting after—ho-hum, yawn—meeting.
Some of the shifters wore hunter’s block, which made it harder to identify if there were any humans. Though humans weren’t technically involved or even invited, for that matter. This was a wolf shifter event only. A get laid, get drunk, have fun, act stupid, wolf shifter event.
“And I gotta be tribute.” Yup, he had to do security. Securing I don’t have any fun is more like it.
Keith nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“That means limited drinking. That means limited fun,” Score pressed the point. They’d been good friends a long time. The last time he’d been tribute, there’d been a different alpha in place. An Everhart.
“Like I said, I appreciate it.”
Score was grumbling. Of course, he would do as Keith asked. Didn’t mean he couldn’t bitch about it. “Yeah, a’ight. I’ll do it.”
“Little tip,” Keith added. “Something I did when I was single and had to pull tribute duty. You can always pay someone to take your shift. It’s all about appearances.” He winked.
Score scowled. His bank account was a little bit anemic. It would take a hell of a lot to make him part with a portion of it.
“Can you believe this shit?” Score sat outside Jared’s cabin with Risk and Luke. “I was hoping to see the same honey I saw last year.” Yup, he was still on that subject.
They all had a beer in front of them and a bucket full of ice and longnecks within reach. Half a case of empties were lined up on the far edge of the table.
Luke laughed. “You two are the only ones among us who are single.” He pointed the bottle at Risk and Score.
“Looks like I’m bound to stay that way, for a while anyway, based on this turn of events.”
“No,” Risk countered. “It’s not about your staying single. You’re simply not getting laid because, let’s face it, you weren’t planning on getting hooked. Just getting hooked up. Having a little fun.”
“True.” Score took a deep draw on his beer, killing it, then leaned over and lined it up with the rest.
“Plus, for what it’s worth, that particular honey has mated up with another shifter,” Risk added.
“No shit?” Score whistled under his breath. “Too bad. She was hot. Where’s he from?”
“Huh.” Risk shrugged. “He’s either Flint Ridge or Copper Gorge. Where was she from? Which pack?”
Score rubbed his jaw, thinking. “Emerald Heights? Maybe? I think?”
“You don’t know?” Jared scoffed. “What’s her name?”
Score reached for another beer, twisted the cap off, stalling.
“He doesn’t know.” Risk laughed. “Look at him. He’s uncomfortable.”
“I do know. I just—” Score took a swallow. “I forgot. Okay?”
“Not too memorable,” Luke added with a chortle.
“I remember her bra size,” Score mumbled.
“Score Flanigan!” A soft hand reached out and cuffed him on the back of the neck. Soft, but not particularly gentle.
“Shit.” He whirled around to find Darby Moore, Jared’s newly turned wolf shifter mate standing there with fists on her hips.
Luke Everhart’s woman, Rachel Kane was next to her, a scowl on her face. “You’re so…” She shook her head in disappointment.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn, woman. You pack a wallop,” he told Darby.
Jared, Luke, and Risk burst into laughter.
Score turned to Risk. “Go with me. You don’t have to do security. Go for the fun of it. The shifts are eight-hours, s
o I’ll have sixteen hours left each day to do whatever.”
“Whatever.” Rachel elbowed Darby. “He’ll have time to do whatever.”
“You mean whoever,” Darby corrected her. She carried the empties to the 50-gallon drum a few steps away.
Rachel grabbed a handful and followed her. “Yeah, that.”
“We got this. We’ll clean up.” Luke wrapped Rachel in his arms.
“Sure do.” Jared picked up Darby and threw her over his shoulder, smacking her ass.
She wriggled. “Put me down, perv.”
“Say it like you know me, woman.” He swung her down and planted a solid one on her mouth, not letting her go.
“We have an audience,” she mumbled against his lips.
Score watched them and found himself staring longer than he normally would have.
Risk nudged him. “What’s on your mind? You got an expression on your face.”
He didn’t want to tell him he was thinking how happy Jared and Luke seemed. Here, he and Risk were, both single. And of their tightknit group, they were the last ones.
Subject detour. “I’m thinking you should go with me to ShifterFest,” he repeated, since Risk hadn’t answered yet.
“You know I can’t. What if I’m found out?”
“Put some hunter’s block on. They’ll never sniff a thing on you. Not like half those shifters don’t wear it anyway. Though I can’t figure out why the hell they do.”