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  Cowboy Bikers MC: Werewolves

  By Esther E. Schmidt

  Copyright © 2020 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Cowboy Bikers MC: Werewolves is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.

  This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  Cover design by:

  Esther E. Schmidt

  Editor #1:

  Christi Durbin

  Editor #2:

  Virginia Tesi Carey

  Dedication

  To all my readers who loved my paranormal world…here’s some more characters to love, and old ones to visit.

  Table of contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  – FIGOR –

  “He requested two. We have at least twelve ready to be sold, so I’m thinking we take a few pictures and a video of four horses and give him a choice of those four,” Ash, my VP, says.

  I let his words sink in while Ozzy asks, “Why only give him a choice between four horses when we have twelve ready?”

  “Are you going to do the work? Groom, photograph, and video each and every single one? All before tomorrow?” Ash deadpans.

  Ozzy leans back in his chair. “Four sounds like an ample amount.”

  “Anyone heard anything about Allen Miles?” Bevin asks. “Because I think I ran into him last night and kicked his ass. He got away because I was drunk as fuck.”

  I shake my head as my gaze wanders to the open window. We’re in the back room of the bar we own which is located at the edge of our property. I’m the president of the Iron Hot Blood MC, Nevada chapter. We have a huge ranch where our club is located since we breed both Longhorns and Quarter Horses.

  It might seem like a weird choice for a bunch of werewolf shifters, but there’s money to be made and we all appreciate the setup we created. Not only do we enjoy riding bikes, and horses, we also take pleasure in the hard work around the ranch, as well as the bar we also use to blow off some steam.

  Most locals swing by from time to time to grab a beer or do some business. Women from all over stroll into our bar for a good time. Everyone around town knows about our livestock and also think we have a special type of dog we breed and train. Little do they know we are the special breed; werewolves. Needless to say, no one fucks with us.

  Until a few weeks ago when a stranger came into our bar. We found out the man rented a house in town because he was here for business. Being a werewolf comes with special abilities such as extensive smell, hyperawareness, speed, and massive strength.

  And this new guy–who we just found out is Allen Miles–reeked of trouble. We sensed it the second he stepped into our bar. But there’s little you can do when the fucker hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Until three days ago when we found out he scammed Caz’s father. He ran off with five grand. An easy trick anyone would see through, but Caz’s father is old and too good at heart.

  “Are you serious?” Caz snaps, drawing me back to the discussion at hand.

  “I don’t know. Like I said, I was drunk. But I know for sure it was him.” Bevin rubs a hand over his eyes. “Or someone who looked like him.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ash sighs. “Someone who looked like him? Really? So, you’re basically saying you could have beaten up a totally innocent man?”

  Bevin winces. “Maybe.”

  Growls erupt and I slam my flat hand on the table. “Enough. Bevin, go hunt down the person you beat up. Did you even get his scent?”

  The fucker winces again.

  “Do you even know where the fuck you were when you beat the living shit out of a guy? Dammit, if it’s a human you better pray he’s still alive,” I growl.

  “Bevin, get the fuck up and come with me. We are going to have a little chat in the bar and go over everything you did before we retrace your steps and find him.” Ash stands and smacks Bevin against the back of his head. “Now, dammit.”

  “Ash, let Ozzy and Caz handle Bevin and this fucking mess. We need to get those photographs and videos ready for the buyer,” I order.

  Ash curses and nods before directing his attention to Bevin again. “You better pray you kicked Allen’s ass because if you fucked-up an innocent person there will be punishment.”

  Bevin hangs his head and stomps out of the room. The idiot is nineteen and just became a prospect. He’s a damn hothead and drinks way too much to cope with the shit he’s going through. And there’s one difference between him and most of our other brothers; Bevin was bitten, not born.

  Born werewolves have full control of their inner beast. We’re stronger and all our senses are fully developed. A full-blooded werewolf can turn a human, and it’s not simply a one bite process, there’s more to it than that.

  But like I said, Bevin was bitten. The whole hothead and out of control fits the phase he’s going through and yet he needs to face the consequences. It’s the main reason we took him in as a prospect; to give him a place with the correct guidance. He needs a chance to face his new lifestyle. Ozzy and Caz stroll out of the room along with him.

  A hint of raspberry teases my nose along with an underlying scent of an enticing woman. My gaze goes to the open window where I catch a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair passing by. I’m on my feet with my next breath but Ash is standing in front of me, stopping my quick exit in an attempt to see if I can find the woman who just strolled by the building.

  “Are you going to help me take the photographs?” he questions.

  “In a minute,” I tell him and I’m about to head for the door–which is a straight connection with the bar–but loud voices catch our attention.

  “Prez, you better get in here,” Spencer–who is handling the bar today–says.

  I hear the voice of a woman rambling about someone she’s looking for, when the sweet undertone of raspberries starts to tease my nose again.

  Stomping into the bar with Ash close behind me, we come to a stop when we notice a woman standing in the middle of the bar. Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are sitting around a table in the corner. At this time there aren’t any people from town in the bar, only a handful of members of our MC.

  The scent of raspberries is strong. This petite woman with curvy hips and strawberry blonde hair is the source of it. I take a deep breath and let my nose filter the different elements entering my body.

  There’s no hint of fear coming from her. And it’s damn weird because I can’t sense if she’s human or not. It’s as if she’s wrapped in a bubble. Blue eyes, bright as my own, are staring right at me.

  They close for a moment when she inhales deep before they narrow and slide down to the patches on my leather cut. Dismissing me, she shifts her gaze to the table where Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are seated.

  “You,” she snaps. “Outside.”

  Everyone stays seated and before I can question what the hell this is about, her eyes clash with mine again.

  “I need for you to order one of your guys to step outside. I have some issues with him I want to talk through,” she demands.

  Laughter flows through the room but there isn’t even a hint of a smile on my face. My men might think it’s fun
ny for a woman to stalk in here and make demands–not realizing she’s surrounded by part of a pack of werewolves–but the joke is on them.

  This isn’t a mere woman and if they would look past her beauty, they would take notice. Her scent is blocked and why should they take notice? It’s a bar where women sometimes come in to rant about their men coming here to cheat on their wives. Loads of women come here to seek some fun for the night.

  But I get the feeling this isn’t about infidelity or a chick coming to drag her man home for missing out on dinner or looking for a one-night stand.

  “State the name and issues you have with him,” I demand in a flat tone.

  She shrugs, her eyes going back to the table where Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are seated as she says, “I don’t have a name, but the one with the bald head needs to face consequences for his actions.”

  The only one with a bald head seated at the table she’s looking at is Bevin. Needless to say, the consequences for his actions she mentioned is the shit he just spilled when we were in a meeting in the other room. She’s here about him kicking someone’s ass who looked like Allen.

  “I’m afraid it’s club business you might be talking about.” I give her a smirk and try to see how she will react to this little piece of information.

  Clearly it tells her I’m aware of what he did and the fact he’s not responsible on his own; he has a whole MC at his back. To my surprise the woman throws her shoulders back and is now fully focused on me.

  “Great. Prez, a word. Outside,” she snaps, turns on her heel, and stalks in the direction of the door but leans against it to wait for me.

  “What the fuck?” Ash grumbles underneath his breath. “Is the chick here for Bevin and what he did last night?”

  “I think so,” I mutter and step forward but Ash grabs my shoulder.

  His voice drops to a mere whisper. “Hang on, Prez. This woman stomps right in here, a fucking bar filled with men. Werewolves for fuck’s sake. She might not be aware, but still. Filled with burly men and this little twinkie of a woman thinks she can lure one of us out? This screams setup or retaliation. I wouldn’t go out there. Let me go around the back and see if I can smell any others or whatever it is this chick has planned.”

  “It’s only her, VP,” I whisper back. “I saw a glimpse of her earlier. I’m pretty sure she checked out the property herself before she stalked right in.”

  “I sure did,” the woman states.

  The corner of my mouth twitches while Ash grumbles, “How the fuck did she hear that shit?”

  Because she doesn’t have human ears, my mind offers as my interest skyrockets.

  “Why do you need him outside?” Ash questions.

  The woman puts her fists on her hips. “Because I’m going to kick his ass,” she says in a neutral tone. As if it’s fucking normal.

  Laughter erupts and she spins on her heel and leaves the bar while all the others are now rushing outside, presumably to watch her kick my ass. As if that’s remotely possible.

  Stepping into the late afternoon sun, I wonder out loud, “Okay, pretty lady, what do you want? I’d gather the kicking my ass part is the anger talking. So, how do we go from here?”

  “Your VP mentioned earlier inside how I was here for what Bevin did last night. You mentioned it was club business. Tell me, before I handle the aftermath, why did Bevin think it was necessary to harm an innocent man? One who never in all his life harmed another soul.”

  “Another soul,” I murmur. “Nice choice of words.”

  I inhale deep in an effort to sense what kind of supernatural she might be because I know for sure she isn’t human. Not fully anyway. But again, I turn up empty while the woman smirks.

  “Mind dropping the cloak?” I question.

  “Mind answering my question?” she shoots back.

  “Up until a few minutes before you hopped in, we weren’t aware of what he did last night. Mind sharing who we’re talking about?”

  She tilts her head slightly at my question. Pulling a phone from her tight blue jeans, her biker boots stomp my way and she shows me a picture of a man who might have some similarities with Allen but is in fact someone else. He looks at least ten years younger.

  “Please give me his details so I can handle the misunderstanding.”

  She takes a step back and shoves the phone into her pocket.

  “I am handling it.” It’s a clear statement and it instantly puts me on edge.

  A low growl rumbles through my chest, my hands fist at my sides when I close the distance between us and lean down in her face. “Tell me the name of this man.”

  Both her hands come up as she shoves against my chest, surprising me with the force of her push as I slide a few feet back. Growls rumble around us as all my men line up behind me.

  I can still feel electricity dance on my chest where her hands were on me. And it’s fucking annoying because I’m pissed. Who the hell is she? There aren’t many supernaturals around and we keep a very low profile. It’s the reason we’re not a part of the supernatural MC chapters that are out there, but instead are the Nevada chapter of the Iron Hot Blood.

  An MC mostly run by humans. There are only a few others I know who are like us–run by other supernaturals who enjoy living among humans earning a living and combining our passion. But ninety-nine percent are completely human run MCs and aren’t aware we’re supernaturals.

  MCs who only consist of supernaturals are called Death By Reaper, they have different chapters for each supernatural. Like the Hellhounds MC, who are at the top of the chain and handle everything if things go to shit. They can shift into large black wolves with red fire crackling around them. And the president would have two heads instead of one.

  Then there are guardians. Somewhat comparable with angels, they are capable of shifting into a large wolf too but are the opposite of hellhounds; white with blue fire crackling around them. There’s a Vampires MC chapter, a Dragons MC, you get the idea.

  We could be wearing a Death By Reaper MC, Werewolf charter cut, but instead we choose to keep a low profile and breed livestock, making an honest living by doing so. We don’t interfere with anything else except human business.

  “Who are you?” I hiss through my teeth.

  “Opal.” She closes the distance between us.

  Her head tilts back to glance up at me as I stare down.

  “Figor,” I grunt.

  “President of this MC while all of you are werewolves,” she easily supplies. “Bevin, is he bitten or born?”

  “Who are you, the supernatural police?” I sneer.

  She shrugs. “My human job is bounty hunter, though my job has nothing to do with this. It’s personal. The man Bevin beat up, what you so easily labeled as a misunderstanding, is a friend of mine. Someone I swore to watch over and then this happened. Bevin needs to face the consequences. And he better come up with a very good reason why he thought it was okay to beat up an innocent person. But there’s never a good reason to beat up an innocent. I’ll make sure to put him away for good. So, yes, you might say I have the ability to be the supernatural police if I wanted to.”

  Inhaling deep right in front of her face–even if I know very well she has cloaked her scent–I need it to make a statement before I add, “Tell me what you are and I will give you the information you seek along with a vote in the punishment Bevin will get for fucking up.”

  Opal jabs a finger against my patch. “I don’t see werewolf stated on your leather cut. Why do you hide and demand me to do otherwise?”

  I grind my teeth. “Why are you such a pain in the ass?”

  “Funny.” She snorts. “My father used to throw out the same question on a regular basis before I moved out.”

  And she’s still not answering my question.

  I keep glaring at her until she finally huffs. “Fine. If you need a label, I’ll give you one. I’m part witch.”

  “A witch doesn’t have the immense physical strength it took for you to shove me
back. And the witch part? Not so much of a surprise since your scent was cloaked.”

  “Guardian,” she grumbles underneath her breath so very faint, I bet only I can pick up on that word because I’m standing close to her. She raises her voice and snaps, “Now start spilling the beans.”

  Guardian? Hot damn. She’s close to an Angel so to say. A guardian is there to protect people. She can shift into a large, stunning white wolf with crackling blue flames. Fucking magnificent, that’s what she is. The wolf in me is panting at the thought of running beside her. Hell, I’m panting at the mere idea of having her underneath me.

  “Prove it.” I can’t help the grin sliding on my face.

  It’s pathetic and absolutely unnecessary but my cock is hard, knowing there’s a guardian standing before me–within my reach–and one who smells too good to be true.

  “I most certainly will not,” she huffs. “We’re near a public road. I assumed with you guys not being a Werewolf MC chapter you guys wouldn’t openly shift. Why ask me here and now?”

  I lean in and growl in a hint of a whisper, “Because I want to see the sexy.”

  There are blue flames dancing in her eyes and it’s the proof I wanted. Her anger is showing and the blue flames can only indicate she is in fact a guardian. Well, half anyway since she also stated she’s part witch. Strange combination, though.

  Different supernaturals can create offspring, though it’s rare since it can create an unstable person. Mainly due to the mix in powers and not being able to handle it. But this woman before me can clearly handle herself pretty nicely.

  “Close your eyes and imagine it,” she growls. “I’m guessing all the women showing you the sexy before me filled your head enough to make it a normality. I’m here for business, so keep your dick in your pants and your head out of the gutter. I’m speaking to you out of courtesy and can easily go over your head to get Bevin.”

  My fingers are wrapped around her throat with my next breath. “Show some respect,” I all but spit in her face.