Prickly By Nature (12 page)

Dylan grinned at the look of adoration his mate set on the woman. Avery had told him how his parents hadn’t been around much growing up. He could see in Miss Georgie where Avery got his big heart. Even if Avery couldn’t see it for himself.

“
Bebette
, I want a front-row seat to the fireworks,” she hooted. “This is gonna be better than the time Nancy Michelle got caught banging Old Benoit’s son in the pool house.” Georgie clapped her hands like a kid, then saw the rest of their friends. “Oh, I’m being rude.” After introductions, Georgie hugged Lucas like a long-lost friend and patted Jaden on his head with an “Aren’t you just the cutest little carrottop that ever was?”

Dylan liked her. A lot. He wondered if he could take her back to Portland with them. No way bad moods happened around this woman. Even Lucas was having a good time. Dylan would have to figure out a way to pack her up and ship her to Oregon. Their world needed more Miss Georgies.

DYLAN FELT
their presence before he could really register the threat. A tickle at the nape of his neck, a cold breeze in the sweltering humidity, and the heavy scent of wet wolf.

When they’d left Miss Georgie’s place, Dylan had been exhausted. The flight, God help him, the tour of the Quarter, and lunch had wrung every last bit of energy out of him. It wasn’t until they’d turned the corner onto Dauphine that Dylan sensed the problem. Three, maybe four, wolves were following them. Not close enough for a surprise attack—Dylan was far too quick and strong to let someone get the drop on them, so was Lucas for that matter—but not far enough to hide their presence either.

Giving Avery’s hand a squeeze, Dylan spun around. Lucas and Jaden followed his lead and flanked him. The three wolves facing them—long-haired and wild-eyed—stopped. They weren’t much bigger than Jaden—all three of them were more slender than muscular, though looks could be deceiving when it came to power in wolves. The blond one in the center snarled, showing a missing front tooth through his parted lips. He narrowed his crystalline blue eyes, a wild light dancing in the depths. The guy was strong—no doubt about it—but he didn’t have anything on Dylan. Though Dylan had to hand it to him; the guy didn’t back down.

The other two dark-headed wolves looked to be twins. Though, curiously, one sported a scar from the corner of his mouth to his temple crossing his right cheek and the other had a matching scar, exactly the same on his left. They looked to be in their early twenties, younger than Avery and Jaden. Dylan found the twins to be more interesting, though no more intimidating than Blondie.

Dylan realized they must be the Cajun wolves Avery had told him so much about. The crazies. They didn’t seem as psycho as Avery had made them out to be, but then again, it wasn’t like Dylan planned on spending much time with them to find out.

Dylan nodded at Blondie, ignoring the other two.

“
Qu’est-ce qui se passe
?” Blondie asked

Dylan quirked a brow.

“He asked you, ‘what’s going on,’” Avery answered from behind Dylan. “He’s being an ass.”

“No shit.” Dylan jerked his chin up in greeting. “What’s up?”

“You let yo’ rodents speak fo’ you?” Blondie snorted.

Dylan returned the snarl. “Watch yourself, wolf.”

The man gave a nonchalant shrug, then held his head high. “You in my town, son,” the arrogant son of a bitch answered.

“Your town?” Dylan bit out. Blondie wasn’t an alpha, much less
the
alpha. He couldn’t even pass for a beta wolf on his best day, and Dylan hoped this wasn’t his best day.

“My town,” he repeated. “We don’t want nobody making
misère
round here.” He glared pointedly at Avery, and Dylan stepped to the right, cutting off his view.

Dylan glanced over his shoulder at Avery.

“Trouble,” he replied to Dylan’s unasked question. “He said they don’t want any troublemakers.” He cleared his throat. “Specifically me.”

When Dylan turned back to Blondie, the guy looked smug. “No trouble?” Dylan quirked a brow. “In The Big Easy? I doubt that. Hear it’s the Vegas of the South.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “We don’t want
misère
like dem.” He pointed at Avery, who had again stepped around to see the Cajun wolves. “He’s
canaille
.”

Dylan was having a tough time following along for the Cajun-speak and thick Southern drawl. He assumed Blondie meant hedgehogs when he referred to “them” or “dem.” When he said “want,” it sounded like “wont.” He was pretty sure the guy said he didn’t want trouble like Avery, but anything after that was lost on him.

“Sly, sneaky, conniving,” Avery spoke up.

Dylan had been warned of the animosity between the groups of shifters—wolves and hedgehogs. Though it may have been more between the wolves and Avery’s father. Dylan didn’t know. “Good thing he’s not here to cause trouble,” Dylan growled, half frustrated with the idiot in front of him and half with Avery, who would not stay put.

Avery wrapped his long fingers around Dylan’s forearm, then sighed. “It’s okay, big guy,” he said. “They only think they know me from before Portland. I wasn’t always the… best person.”

Avery’s touch soothed him, even though his words didn’t. But then again, it made Dylan wonder what kind of hell his mate had gotten into when he was younger.

“We’re only here for a couple days,” Avery told the stranger. “I’m showing my mate around town.”

The wolf’s eyes got wide, and his gaze dropped to the mark, visible at Avery’s open collar. Then he looked at Dylan. “I’ll be,” he said slowly, sounding stunned.

Dylan smirked and wrapped an arm around Avery’s waist.

After a moment, the leader narrowed his eyes and pointed at Avery. “We watchin’ you,” he said. His glare held for a blink in time before they turned and stalked away.

“Could they be any more
Terminator
?” Jaden broke the silence. “I was just waiting for the old ‘I’ll be back.’” He gave his best Schwarzenegger impression. Avery was the only one who giggled.

The Cajun wolves weren’t as wild as Dylan had expected, but he’d be keeping his eye out, especially after their focus on Avery.

Walking through the door of the B and B was bliss. Frigid air wrapped around Dylan in a welcome embrace and he moaned. Blessed air-conditioning. Fuck it was hot. Not hot hot—he could handle eighty degrees. It was the humidity that was getting to him. And for a wolf who ran hot as it was, Dylan felt like he’d steamed for the past four hours. No wonder everyone thought the Cajun wolves were insane. He’d be crazy too if he’d been cursed with this climate.

In their room, Dylan stripped down and dove on top of the covers. He was too tired to worry about a shower. The bed cradled him like a lover beckoning him to take exactly what he needed: sleep. He’d have to ask for clean sheets in the morning. Totally worth it.

On the edge of consciousness, he felt Avery slip into bed, melting into his side. It was all he needed to fall into the most peaceful sleep he’d known in a while.

WHILE AVERY
hated to give his mate a reason to gloat, he had to give credit where it was due. Dylan had been wise to suggest this trip. Despite his initial resistance, he could see that now. He was having more fun than he’d had in months—the time he spent in bed with Dylan notwithstanding. Oregon might be the home of his heart, but he’d missed Louisiana. He’d missed New Orleans—the noise, the atmosphere, the food, the constant revelry. Even their run-in with the Cajun wolves had been entertaining in its way. He’d had plenty of encounters with them over the years, and he’d been even more of a snob back then. None of them would remember him fondly.

Then after dinner last night, they’d literally bumped into his old friend, Alain, who was a fellow hedgehog shifter of the Mandeville country club set. He’d been positively delighted to find Avery in the company of wolves.

“Oh, I wish I could be there when you introduce him to your daddy,” Alain had practically gushed after bustling Avery a few steps away from the others and barraging him with questions. “He’s gonna be apoplectic. I can just picture his head exploding.” He’d laughed. “But, honey, you caught a fine one. And that blond ain’t nothing to sneeze at either. I’d take them both for a ride at once if they asked nicely.”

Avery had given a growl that would’ve done Dylan proud. Damn slutty hedgehog. Avery would rip his spines out. “Back off, Alain. You can try for Luc if you want, but Dylan’s mine.”

“Honey, calm down. I see the mark on your neck and the way he’s glowering at me. I don’t think I could tempt him anyway.”

“That’s right. You couldn’t.”

Alain had thrown a speculative look over Avery’s shoulder. “Well, maybe the blond and the redhead, then. I’ve never been with one, you know. All those freckles. And the carpet must match the drapes. I’m sure it’s a sight to see.”

With that, Avery had snapped and laid a verbal smackdown that sent Alain’s little ass packing. Hell if he’d stand around while Alain talked about his friends and mate like they were so much meat. Had Avery been that obnoxious before? God, he hoped not. Maybe it was different because they weren’t discussing a stranger, but the entire conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, the memory of Alain’s shocked face made him laugh whenever he imagined it.

Most of their second day had passed in the same vein as the first—wandering, shopping, checking out the sights. Avery had taken them to Café Du Monde for coffee and beignets after lunch. Now they were getting ready for dinner, and after that, it was off to Lafitte’s and maybe Good Friends for drinks.

Avery was looking forward to it… until he got an e-mail on his phone that made him spring off the bed where he was waiting for Dylan to finish his shower.

The message came from “J. Overkamp.” It read:

Ready to talk. In person only. Meet up? Time? Place?

Butterflies erupted in Avery’s stomach. It had to be from Joel, and he wouldn’t have contacted Avery if he didn’t have information to share. Not with how paranoid he seemed. This could be it. The break he’d been waiting for.

Avery was halfway into repacking his bag when Dylan came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dylan stared at the mess on their bed, his eyebrows drawn together. “What’s going on?”

“We have to go back,” Avery said, breathless from rushing around the room. “I heard from Joel, that waiter I told you about. He’s finally ready to meet.”

Dylan considered him for a long moment, as if debating whether or not Avery had lost his mind. “You’re serious,” he finally said, both his voice and his expression incredulous. “You want to leave right now?”

Avery threw another shirt into his suitcase. “Yes! I can’t let him change his mind. We have to get back there ASAP.” He balled up a pair of jeans and mashed it on top of the pile he’d created. “You know I’ve been waiting to hear from him. Maybe he can give us what we need to find Lacey!”

Dylan crossed the room and gripped his shoulders, stopping Avery in the middle of shoving a stack of briefs into one of the zippered compartments. “Avery.”

Avery pulled away and swept into the bathroom. He gathered his toiletries with trembling hands, his need to get home like a physical compulsion. His heart galloped in his chest—from excitement, fear.

“Av,” Dylan said from behind him. “We are not going back until Sunday night.”

Avery spun on him with his arms full of hair and body products. He took in Dylan’s face, which was set in pained lines. “What are you saying? Of course we are.”

“We’re not.” Dylan took the bottles from his resistant hands and set them on the counter. “Come on. Let’s talk about this rationally.”

Avery tossed his head, his temper flaring. “Don’t patronize me,” he snapped. “I’m not a child. I am being rational.”

“You’re really not.” Dylan grabbed his arm and steered him back out into the bedroom. He forced Avery to sit on the edge of the bed and then ran a hand over his short hair. His sigh seemed to punch from his chest. “Av, think about this. We spent a lot of money to come here, and we can’t get any of it back. We’ve committed to go to your brother’s wedding. It would be rude not to show.”

Avery narrowed his eyes. “If you recall, I didn’t want to come in the first place. You pressured me into it. It’s
your
fault we’re here.”

Dylan made an annoyed sound, a sort of half growl. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I did pressure you. But we’re here now, and besides….” He hesitated. “What’s to say this guy doesn’t change his mind between now and the time it takes us to fly back to Portland? Let’s say we rush off, and then we get home and he won’t meet with you. What then? We would’ve ruined our trip and wasted our money for nothing.”

Avery swallowed, his throat dry and tight. Irritation simmered in his gut, but he knew Dylan was right. After all the cash he’d shelled out to get Avery out of trouble with Victor and then to pay that drug dealer, Snowflake, for information about the sex ring auction, he wasn’t exactly in the position to let a couple of grand go to waste. Neither was Avery. But…. “You don’t understand. If we don’t go back right now, it gives him time to think, time to get scared, and—”

“No, Avery, you’re not understanding
me
. This guy could change his mind in the next five minutes and you can do nothing to stop that. It’s already Thursday. What difference will a few more days make? And we’re not the only people to consider in this situation. How will Luc and Jaden feel if we take off right now? We invite them on this trip and then we bail the second day? How would you feel in their place?”

Avery tore his gaze away from Dylan’s frustrated one. In the logical part of his brain—the one that wasn’t anxious and terrified to lose this lead—he could acknowledge the truth of Dylan’s words. He realized how irrational he was being. It would cost them a fortune to switch their flights, and the B and B wouldn’t give them a refund for their last night before they moved on to his parents’ house in Mandeville. He’d be spoiling the trip for not only Dylan and himself but possibly their friends as well. After Dylan and Avery left, Lucas and Jaden intended to stay in New Orleans for the remainder of the weekend. What if they felt obliged to cancel their plans because Avery pressured Dylan into flying back tonight? He would’ve cost them all their vacation. Dylan was right about Joel too. He could change his mind in five minutes or ten or an hour, and there wasn’t a damn thing Avery could do about it—whether he was in New Orleans or Portland or Timbuktu.