“Love is a weapon,” Lorenzo remarked. “I’ve seen it ruin men.”
Jericho snagged a cigarette from behind his ear and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a silver lighter. It made a melodic clink when he opened it. After a few puffs, he blew a steady trail of smoke upward and nodded. “Maybe so, but I don’t care.”
“Did Alexia tell you about her real father—my uncle? The one who hired a man to murder his mate and child?”
He nodded and looked at the end of his smoke. “I heard. Did you ever consider that maybe none of that went down because of love? A man doesn’t put a hit on his life mate and child because he loves them; he does it because he loves himself. His pride, his pack, whatever. No offense, Church, but that was a man who couldn’t live with the shame of a cheating mate. Didn’t sound like he knew much about forgiveness either. Yeah, we all fuck up in our lives. But when someone loves you enough to forgive you, it changes a man. Doesn’t mean you get a second chance with them necessarily, but you let go of all that hate and bitterness. If you really think love can ruin a man, then I don’t want you near Ivy.”
He dropped his smoke in a glass and stood up, giving Lorenzo a pointed look. “She deserves more than a wolf with a cold heart. Your iron fist won’t keep her warm at night.”
After Jericho left the table, Lorenzo rubbed his face with his hands. Taking love advice from the Weston pack was like being kicked in the testicles. Austin’s pack created unrealistic expectations of what a mate should offer. Lorenzo could provide her wealth, security, power, and position. Waking up at dawn to bring her donuts? He could never be that man.
Although he
had
left cream cheese on her tray. Maybe that was the best he could do.
Growing up, Lorenzo had been much smaller than the other children. They’d pushed him down and called him a runt. When he reached his teens, his growth spurt hit and those same children began to avoid him. Lorenzo had learned how to intimidate men with his words and body language. He quickly realized his reputation would be ruined if he lost a fight, so he’d acquired a pack of friends and chose his battles carefully. To his disappointment, Lorenzo’s younger brother didn’t join his pack. Most siblings stuck together and followed their alpha brother, but Luca didn’t like his cold and distant approach.
Reno was sitting with his back to the main entrance, holding a phone to his ear. He pointed at his eyes and then signaled Lorenzo to watch the front door while he took the call.
Lorenzo rose from his chair and studied the facial expressions of every man who entered. It was easy to weed out those of another Breed—the ones with unique eye colors or unblemished skin. Sometimes Chitahs wore color contacts to disguise their unique eyes from humans, but they couldn’t conceal their height.
Two men wandered in, each with thick treads on their boots that left broken pieces of dried mud on the dark carpet wherever they walked. Their eyes scoped out the room, but their posture remained closed. Lorenzo leaned against the bar, resting on his elbows, watching the two men settle in a dark area of the room behind Reno. Most men left their coats in the car so they wouldn’t have to lug them around, but not these guys. Their jackets were zipped up to their necks in a club that felt as humid as a tropical island.
Lorenzo only had a vague memory of what Fox looked like from the man’s visit to the house. He had been concentrating on the conversation so hard that his memory was a little fuzzy on the details. He ruled out the men in the shadows because a man like Fox craved attention. Men like that wanted to be noticed, even when it wasn’t in their best interest to be. He remembered Fox’s blue eyes and darkish hair, although what his wolf noticed the most was his defect. Shifters in animal or human form were perceptive when it came to noticing any detail that could be a weakness, and his wolf had paid attention to Fox’s mangled left ear. Images flashed in his mind of Ivy’s assault—ones planted from her description of the incident. A despicable man who would assault an innocent and threaten the life of a child—his own son!—deserved a slow death without mercy.
“Good to see you, Enzo. Can I get you a drink?” Gilly asked.
“Not tonight. Just enjoying the atmosphere,” Lorenzo replied coolly.
Reno set his phone on the table and looked to Lorenzo, who nodded toward the two men. A silent conversation of body language formed between them as Reno made a declaration that he was going to move in closer to listen.
“There are never enough ladies to choose from.”
Lorenzo turned his head and met the eyes of a Vampire. Short blond hair and eyes as black as oil. He had the aristocratic air that one often saw in families with old money.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Curious,” the Vampire said. “I could have sworn I saw you talking to a fetching young woman with a long braid. Not yours?”
“Polite conversation.”
“Hmm,” the Vampire said, mimicking the way Lorenzo was leaning on the bar. “The way you had her cornered against the wall didn’t look very polite to me.”
Lorenzo bristled at the comment. The Vampire had been listening. Normally they tuned out of conversations unless they were investigating someone or had a personal interest. Was he sent by someone? Did he have an interest in Ivy? Lorenzo pushed off the bar and walked away.
The Vampire lightly touched his arm and caught up with him. “It’s just that if you’re not interested in anyone in particular, I thought I’d see if the young miss would entertain me with a dance.”
Lorenzo turned on his heel and faced his new friend. “What interest does a Vampire have in a Shifter?”
The slender Vamp clicked his heels and bowed swiftly. “The name’s Atticus. You’re a Packmaster, right? She has an alluring way about her that’s undeniably attractive, but later tonight, you’ll be giving serious thought to some of the things you promised her. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? We both know Packmasters never choose women with shortcomings such as hers. All I want is a dance with the girl. Have your fun and discard her later, but turn a blind eye and indulge an old Vampire in having a moment with a beautiful woman.”
“If you go near her, I’ll put a stake in you,” Lorenzo said. A stake wouldn’t kill a Vampire like in the movies, but it certainly deflated their ego by paralyzing them until it was removed. Atticus stood a couple of inches shorter than he did, so Lorenzo let his eyes lower to the man’s mouth to keep from looking into his eyes.
“So much testosterone flinging about with you Shifters. Maybe you should use me as a way to test her loyalty. If she accepts a dance, then you’ll have your answer that she isn’t as faithful as you hoped. If she rejects me, then you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing she only wants you. I’ll even wear my glasses so you know I’m not tipping the scales in my favor. Think about it.” Atticus gave him a pat on the arm and gracefully slipped into the crowd.
Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. Lorenzo understood the root of his fears stemmed from his aunt having sex with another man not even of his uncle’s caliber. That betrayal had set a chain of events into motion that left an indelible impression on a young alpha. Lorenzo had looked up to his uncle, trying to learn the tools of leading a successful pack by the examples set. He’d vowed he would step out of the shadows of family shame and never repeat the same mistakes his own flesh and blood had made and that he would become a better man—a better leader. Perhaps Atticus was right, and this might save him the trouble of enduring the same fate.
My wolf had taken over for the length of the entire evening.
When she finally let me shift back late the next morning, I felt rested and content. Someone had pulled the white rug from beneath the coffee table and placed it in front of the television where Maizy was lying down, still in her pink nightgown, reading a book with colorful illustrations.
I washed up in the bathroom with a wet towel since we didn’t have a shower. My clothes still carried the sour smell of the bar, so I hung Lorenzo’s shirt on a hook affixed to the door and slipped into a chocolate-brown dress that flowed to my ankles. I loved that stretchy kind of fabric, and instead of walking around barefoot like I’d been doing in our room, I slipped on a pair of brown flats that looked more like slippers than shoes.
“Are you hungry? Come sit down and have a plate before it gets too cold,” Lynn said from behind the bar in our private room. “Most of us have already eaten, but we saved you plenty.”
I sat on a soft leather stool next to Wheeler. He took a sausage link between his fingers and ran it in a circle on a syrupy plate.
“Where did this come from?” I asked.
“Well,” Lynn began, her hands on her hips, “I talked to the bartender who talked to the cook and they didn’t have anything but bar food. What they have is fine for the dinner crowd, but we can’t eat hamburgers for breakfast. So I sent them on a run.”
Wheeler snorted out a laugh. “I could eat hamburgers.”
She set a plate of sausage links and pancakes in front of me. “This came from the IHOP a few blocks down the street. Eggs get cold fast, so I ordered what would keep at room temperature. But I can have the chef put it in the microwave if you want.”
“I love how you call that asshole a chef,” Wheeler muttered.
“Maybe he’s just a cook,” she said, “but the minute he went out of his way to bring all this food, I upgraded his title.”
“No, this is quite delicious,” I said, already eating my second sausage.
“Forget something, Lynn?” Wheeler asked without looking up from his plate.
She knitted her brows. “Oh,
that
.” Lynn opened the small fridge behind the bar, which held alcoholic drinks, among other things, and set a container of cream cheese and a chilled spoon in front of me. “That long-haired Indian fellow insisted that I give this to you with breakfast. Where he got it, I don’t know.”
I tried to suppress my delight, but it was impossible. Everyone in the house knew my craving when I came out of my shift, but no one had ever brought it to me. That’s something mates did for each other.
I pushed my plate aside and peeled off the lid, spooning a giant scoop into my mouth. Instant relief. It was a terrible feeling to come out of a shift and not have that one craving satisfied.
“I once knew a guy who ate butter,” Wheeler said conversationally, licking syrup from his finger. “He’d eat tubs of that fatty lard.”
“We can’t control what our wolf craves.”
Wheeler smeared his finger around the plate, picking up more syrup. “Yeah, you can. Takes a lot of discipline, but you need to show your animal who’s boss. People listen to their wolves when maybe they shouldn’t. They let them decide who to mate with, what to eat, when to shift; that’s too much fucking control.”
I took another generous helping of cream cheese. “So you’ve made your wolf submissive to your human side? That’s not wise. Someday he’ll rise up against you if you don’t learn to make compromises. And remember that your wolf is a part of you. Maybe the reason why we can’t control who our animal bonds with is because they know what we need, which might not always be what we think we want. Maybe there are soul mates.”
He flicked a glance at my spoon. “That all you’re eating?”
I sniffed out a laugh and stood up, careful not to touch Wheeler. He didn’t care for physical affection. “When you give in to your craving, the hunger goes away. Give in, Wheeler. Or else you’ll always be starved for something that isn’t what you need.”
“Yes, Confucius.” He wiped syrup off his short beard with the back of his hand and took a swig from his bottle of beer.
April was the animal lover in the house, always helping injured birds or other critters. I once asked her what had given her the courage to let a dangerous wolf into her house. She told me that the ones that bark the most are always the ones who need the most love but are too afraid. That’s how I often felt about Wheeler. He could rub me the wrong way with his brash words and disrespectful tone, but I’d taken what April said to heart, and maybe it helped me be more tolerant of his behavior.
A square box mounted on the wall next to the door flashed, signifying someone wanted in. Austin peered out before stepping back.
Jericho hurried in and went straight to Izzy, who was sitting on the couch eating. He took the plate out of her hands and replaced it with a white box of donuts. He set a cup of steaming cocoa on the table and smiled proudly.
“Jericho Sexton Cole, if you keep this up, I’m going to give birth to a chocolate-glazed donut.”
Everyone laughed and he strolled around the sofa behind her. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss to her neck, splaying his long fingers across her belly.
On the opposite sofa, Denver had his bare feet on the coffee table. His disheveled hair looked like he’d used his fingers as a comb. “How’s the little bean this morning?”
“Stop calling him a bean,” she said with a scowl on her face.
Jericho chuckled. “Yeah, call him Floyd instead.”
Izzy thumped Jericho on the forehead.
Before I realized it, my hand was covering my own belly. Except unlike Izzy’s—full of life—mine was flat and hollow. I remembered the first time I felt Lakota kick within me; he was such a strong boy. My father, shamed by my deception, had kept me locked in my room when I began showing. The pack knew I was pregnant, but he didn’t want me walking around as a reminder of his failure as a father and as a leader. It was hard to believe I could feel such tenderness for that little stranger growing inside me, and those nine months became the shortest months of my life. I savored each day we were connected. His kicks brought me joy, as did those late nights when Lakota had the hiccups and kept me awake. I sang him songs and told him our spirits would always be one and that if he ever needed me, I’d find him in our dreams. Would I ever know that joy again?
When I moved toward the door, Austin gripped my arm. “Where are you going?”
“To speak with Reno. It’s time for me to decide where my fate lies.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “We’ll protect you.”
I reached out and lightly held his wrist. “But can you protect my son? Ask yourself what you would do to protect your pack, and then you’ll have your answer as to how I feel. Someday you’ll be a father, Austin. And I hope with all my heart that you can hold your son and know that he’s safe. I cannot. My arms are empty. I would sacrifice everything for the life I brought into this world, even if I can never hold him. My wolf calls for me to protect this little spirit, and that’s more than love. He’s destined for great things.”
Austin pressed his lips together tightly and lowered his eyes to the ground. “That I don’t doubt. We might come up with another plan though, so before you walk, let me reach out to Fox.”
I nodded and made my way down the dark hall. There were fewer people than the previous night; most were huddled in private booths, engaged in intimate conversations. Some looked to be business, while a few were couples. An employee crossed the empty dance floor to my right, holding a mop and bucket. Gilly’s shift must have ended—the new bartender was much younger and had azure hair. His eyes were glued to a blond waitress who was gathering up dirty dishes from the bar and putting them on a tray.
“Coming up the rear,” Denver said from behind.
“What are you doing out?”
He snatched an uneaten cookie from an empty table and popped it in his mouth. “Changing of the guard. Trevor!” he shouted, curling his fingers to call him over.
Poor Trevor. Without a word, he trudged toward our private room to catch up on sleep.
Denver narrowed his eyes at Ben, who was relaxing at the bar with a drink in his hand. “How many is that?” He pointed his index finger in the air. “No more than one. I’m dead serious, Ben.”
Denver signaled the bartender and pointed at Ben, then sliced his hand across his neck as if to say to
cut him off
.
When we passed the blond waitress, Denver winked at her. “How’s it going, honeypie?”
She kicked up her heel and leaned against the bar, looking over her shoulder at him. She definitely wasn’t a Shifter, so I guessed maybe a Mage or Relic. Some of them thought it was funny to turn their back or bend over in front of a Shifter, but it wasn’t a classy move and sometimes started fights. Denver made a comical growl as he walked by her and then turned his attention to William.
“You need a nap?” he asked.
William sat back in his chair and ruffled his brown curls. “Nope. Swapped out my shift with Wheeler last night to get a couple of hours in, so I’m good to go. I’m a light sleeper.”
William had dark eyebrows that were pleasing to many women. While he had thick hair on his head, it grew sparsely on his face—mostly above his lip and on his chin.
“Anything I should know?” Denver asked, hiking up his jeans in the back. They were baggy and too long, frayed at the ends with a few small holes in the thigh.
“Indeed there is.” William leaned forward on his elbows. “See the two lovers in the booth behind me at three o’clock? The ones with two days’ worth of scruff on their faces? Lorenzo spotted them coming in. Muddy boots, wore their coats for three hours while they didn’t speak a word to each other. They haven’t danced with a pretty girl, or an ugly girl at that. Might want to keep an eye on them. They’re ordering virgin drinks, so my blinkers are going off right there. They don’t know who I am, but they’ve been watching Reno. Don’t make as many trips to the back room. I warned the pack to only go back there when the men are distracted.”
Denver put his hands on his lower back and arched his spine until it cracked. “Should I go introduce myself? Maybe ask them to boogie down?”
William tucked his fist against his cheek and leaned on the table. “Only if you save the last dance for me.”
“You’re a bag of nuts. I’ll set up camp at one of the tables behind them. Do me a favor and signal Reno to take a piss. I don’t want those a-holes to see me tagging him out of the ring. I’m sure they’ve figured out we’re in here, but maybe they don’t know we’re
all
here.”
“I don’t think
they’re
all there,” William said, tapping his head.
“True that. I’m outta here.” Denver stalked off toward one of the tables behind the men and grabbed a plate of half-eaten french fries on his way.
I sat down for a moment in front of William. Fox’s men were out of earshot since the half walls gave us privacy.
“The pack seems to like you,” I said. “That’s a compliment.”
He tipped his glass and swallowed half his soda. “That’s a good pack you got. Sometimes there’s too much emphasis on numbers when it’s really about picking the right people who get along. I grew up in a pack similar to this one, only a little bigger. Yours will grow in time. Lorenzo picked out some good packmates, but we also have a few loose cannons who really need to go. He’s a strong Packmaster, but he has his weaknesses, one of them being he doesn’t know how to trim the fat.”
“So why doesn’t he put his foot down?”
William laughed brightly and sighed. “That’s a good one. Unless he’s disrespected or someone breaks a rule, Enzo turns a blind eye to some of the behavior that goes on in the house. I try to keep ’em in line since I’m the second-in-command, but sometimes it’s more like babysitting, and not in a good way. He has too many headstrong men fighting for rank within the house.”
“There are a few headstrong men in our house as well,” I said. “But everyone seems to know their place and respects each other, even if they horse around a lot. There’s tension underneath the surface, but Austin knows how to command a pack, and they respect him.”
“I’ve noticed. He’s young, but he told me about his bounty-hunter days. I think that helped shape him into a man, especially considering he didn’t grow up in a pack. You learn a lot in a job like that because you see how others are doing it wrong.”
Lexi appeared and took a seat at the bar, giving me a sly grin. She had pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and was wearing a baseball hat to hide her face. A man two seats to her left leaned back in his chair to check out her T-shirt, which cut off at the midriff.
“I better relieve Reno of his duties,” I said. “Thanks, William.”
“For what?”
“I know you’re here on Lorenzo’s orders, but thank you for looking out for my family.”
“Mustn’t get all sappy on me now. Just a job.”
I briefly touched his shoulder before walking away.
A few steps before I reached Reno’s table, I glared at Fox’s men. I didn’t care if they noticed me noticing them. I wanted to go over there and give them a piece of my mind.
As if reading my thoughts, Reno launched out of his chair and quickly blocked my view. He had a way of glaring at a person down to the last atom. He lowered his voice and said, “A couple of guys I know went to check out the birthday cake, and they said it came out perfect.”
I released a heavy breath. “Time is still a factor.”
He rubbed his eyes, but couldn’t hide the dark circles. “I say we have the party here and shoot off a few fireworks. How ’bout that? Feel like making a phone call to the birthday boy?”
***
An hour later, Reno and Austin had made plans to handle Fox. Reno had connections, and one of them gave us a number where we could reach Fox. When we gathered in our private room, Reno handed me the phone. The first time I called, it went to voice mail. The second time, he picked up.
“Do I know you?” he answered.
“I wish you didn’t.”