Page 1 of Taken by Moonlight
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The night airfelt cool against my cheeks and the stars sparkled overhead, contrasting to the cloying smell of perfume and the sizzling hum of the crimson neon sign that read Crossroads Gentleman’sClub.
Near the door, a handsome, tall werewolf guarded the entrance. His silk tuxedo fit nicely over all those muscles that came in handy in keeping out lowlifes. The were’s asset was a set of fangs that could tear into flesh as easily as a hot knife slides into warmbutter.
I climbed out of the aging Ford pickup, took my purse with the frayed strap that threatened to break loose, and slammed the door, heading into my secondjob.
What drove a nice girl like me to an upscale sex club forshifters?
Desperation.
I work at Crossroads as a waitress. As a psychic, or psi, human, I’m good at reading auras. I tell Norm, the owner, which shifters plan to start something, or worse, hassle the girls, and he tosses themout.
Two years ago, I was desperate for money and got a $25,000 loan with Earl Brown and his equally shifty brother Cal (real shifty, not just a shifter). Now I owe $10,000 in interest by Tuesday or I’ll behomeless.
Tonight, Norm’s paying double time for tonight’s shift and the private auction in the champagne room that kicks off the holidayweekend.
“Hey Peyton.” Guy, the werewolf/bouncer, nodded at me. “Rough day at theoffice?”
Gaze centered on my hair, he looked sympathetic. Aw damn! I forgot the wig that I usually wear to discourage guys from groping me. It’s a hideous thing with fake hair like straw that makes me look like a witch. When I apply the right cosmetics, no one, not even a drunk wereskunk, will payattention.
“I was in a rush. Boss wouldn’t let me out until I met with my new manager.” Just admitting that made my guts squeeze tight. Imagine your new coworker getting promoted over you, despite all your dedication to the company for fouryears.
Guy sighed. “You lost out on thepromotion?”
Self-pity isn’t my style, but the thought of how close I’d been to that promotion and the much-needed bonus made my throat close. “She had a four-year college degree. All I have is four years of working for thecompany.”
“That sucks. Humans are cruel,” Guyagreed.
A shrug and a smile pushed away the pity party. A good rule of thumb is to never take your day job troubles into the club. Shifters came here to mingle, talk business, drink and eat, and see beautiful women dance, not listen to wait staff whine about the unfairness oflife.
“Others have it worse. I need to go home and get my wig. Can you make excuses forme?”
I knew I was running late, but Guy had helped out in the past. Nottonight.
“Norm’s waiting on you. No time to change.” Guy opened the door for me. “Take care. He’s wound up tighter than a weresnake’sass.”
Norm was a python shifter. I laughed at the little joke, even though the sinking feeling continued. Guy touched my arm and my nervesjumped.
He lowered his voice. “Peyton, be careful. I mean it. This is a different crowd tonight and some of them will do anything to get what they want. You forget how attractive youare.”
Attractive? No one’s called me that in a long time. “I’m too chubby for theirtastes.”
His warm gaze traveled up from my scuffed Western boots past my jeans to the long-sleeved floral shirt. Guy stroked hischin.
“You’re perfect for shifters. Just the right size. Werewolves like their women with lots ofcurves.”
Can a girl turn redder than the neon sign outside the club? I doubted it. I nodded to Guy and rushedinside.
Unfortunately, because of the late hour, it meant breezing past the main room to get to the employee dressing area. The lounge was already packed with shifters at the round tables and booths. Werewolves, some bear shifters, a panther or two and a distinguished looking gray-haired man I determined was a werejaguar populated the tables. All of them wearing tuxedos, as if this were prom night or awedding.
A coyote shifter wolf-whistled as I wound my way through the linen-draped tables in the center. Cheapseats.
After a quick scan of the coyote’s aura, indeed, the room itself, I determined the males were impatient, but controlled. No harm meant. I increased mypace.
The more expensive leather booths were reserved for shifters who paid six figures a year formembership.
As I started past those, a deep voice spoke from the shadows. “HelloPeyton.”
