She’d no sooner had that thought than her attention shifted. There was a change in the room. Something smelled wrong. Her nose twitched, and she tried to make sense of it. A group of men and women had entered. It smelled as though they’d bathed in perfume or cologne. Betsy gagged and, seconds later, so did several of the women at the table. Lake and Ruth didn’t seem to notice. Maybe alcohol dulled their ability to scent things.
Betsy turned around to stare at the stinky people. Who walked around draped in so much fake scent that it was practically a noxious gas? The group of eight stared back at her table, which seemed kind of odd. To an outsider, her group was a pack of women talking loudly. She didn’t know that much about bars, but surely their like could be found in about any drinking establishment any day or night of the week.
TV was filled with shows of women talking about inappropriate things while they sipped way-too-expensive cocktails. It was fashionable, and this was Manhattan, where fashion was king.
A feeling of dread filled her stomach. Something was wrong. “We need to get out of here.” As a human, she’d ignored her instincts, but if she’d learned nothing in the last forty-eight hours it was that her instincts were far more accurate than she could have imagined. Her hands shook, and her heart raced. She wasn’t a fighter, not really. It seemed pivotal to flee.
“I agree.” Kyra jumped to her feet, tugging at Ruth, who was sluggish.
“What are you two fussing about?”
A woman with long white hair got up from the table, making Betsy nervous, and moved to the door. She closed it and stood in front with her hands on her hips. Now that really couldn’t have been misinterpreted as anything but weird—if not downright threatening.
Kyra walked to the side of the table and took her hand. “Listen to me. I think we’re in trouble here.”
Lake stumbled to her feet. “What’s going on?”
Kyra pushed on Lake’s shoulder, pushing her back down in her chair. “Quiet.”
Betsy spoke to Kyra, a bead of sweat travelling down from her neck to her back. “I agree. These people—”
“Are here to do us harm. Yes.” Kyra nodded. Betsy was glad Kyra was so calm because it kept her cooler than she’d otherwise be.
“What should we do?” Her hands shook, and she shoved them in her pockets.
“Well, we don’t know how dangerous they are. They might be here to spit evil nonsense at us, or they might mean to attack us. In the meantime, I’ve sent Jensen a text. He’ll get in here. I know he will. And I’m sure he’s let the Alpha know we feel threatened.”
“Great. Cyrus can ban bars.” Lake rolled her eyes.
“Would you shut up? We’re here, we’re in some kind of trouble, and we are responsible for the Alpha’s mate. She’s new to this. Nothing can happen to her. It will kill your brother. Despite whatever is up your ass tonight, you would never want to harm him in any way.”
“All right,” the woman by the door called out loudly. “If you are a human, get out the front door. Now. This is your last chance to leave.”
“If we’re human?” a man screamed out from the back of the bar. “Funny joke, lady. Have another one.”
She opened her jacket and pulled out a large silver knife. Any doubt Betsy had about their intentions disappeared. Yep, these people were here to cause violent trouble.
The other seven people at the table rose, pulling out their own versions of the knife from their articles of clothing.
“Do we look like we’re kidding? We’re actually here to protect you from the scum that is here to destroy our lives. So, if you’re human, get out now.” She gestured her knife in their direction. “And don’t try to fool me. We know who all of you are. You’re not sneaking out, creatures.”
“Where is Jensen?” She turned to Kyra. “Shouldn’t he busting through the door?”
The hordes of humans in the bar rushed forward, and the knife-wielding woman let them out, the whole time glaring at the group of werewolves.
“I don’t know. But we’re not got going to sit here and let these knife-wielding psychos hurt us. Stay behind me.”
As Kyra spoke, a strange sensation took over Betsy’s brain. Her vision tunneled. All she could see was the woman with the knife. How dare she threaten them? How dare she put any members of her pack in danger?
No, she wasn’t going to tolerate this anymore. She pulled out her shaking hands and stared at them. What she really needed was a weapon, and she had one. Or two, to be exact.
Betsy knew exactly what she had to do, and it was so damn simple. Even though she had never done it before, she had no doubt about how she could accomplish her task. All she had to do was will it.