Crush stood. “He’ll be at the Angry Hornet in a private room. Ren doesn’t want his pack involved.”
When I heard Christian’s bike approaching, I shut the door so the dog wouldn’t get out. “I don’t remember a private room in that place.”
Crush pursed his lips. “Every Breed bar has a private room. It’s the one marked Utility Closet.”
I looked down at the big beast of a dog. “Why do they call a Shifter bar that mostly serves wolves the Angry Hornet instead of something more… wolfy?”
My dad reached in the fridge and pulled out a cold hot dog and gave it a wiggle, which made the dog salivate. “When they first opened the place, there were hornet’s nests everywhere—even in the bathrooms. They damn near got stung to death trying to clear it.”
“Figures. Well, you two have fun bonding. I’m leaving my truck here for now, so if you want to pick up dog food or whatever, the keys are inside.”
“Maybe I’ll give it the wash it deserves.”
I strode out the door. “See ya, Crush.”
With the engine rumbling, Christian kept watch on the door as I mounted the bike and wrapped my arms around his middle. “What the feck was that coming after me?”
“My dad’s new best friend.”
He throttled the engine. “For a minute there, I thought your da finally took a wife.”
Chapter 5
The Angry Hornet wasn’t far from my dad’s trailer. They catered to bikers in the area—mostly Shifters. My father used to drink there in the early days, before his sobriety, and even though he didn’t go there anymore, everyone knew Crush Graves. The bikers were a tight-knit community, and my father was a trusted human who worked on their bikes and other vehicles. Unfortunately, some of those guys would always remember him as a drunk. I wished I had never gotten wasted there that night. Now everyone probably thought like father, like daughter.
Once inside, we walked straight toward the bar and seating area. On the right was a sunken billiard room with red felt pool tables and mosaic lights. Nothing fancy, but it had its charm. Heeding my warning about Vampires, Christian kept his black sunglasses on. He obviously knew the drill, but sometimes he just didn’t give a damn. We strolled toward the bathrooms, and then I lightly knocked on the door of the utility closet.
Ren opened the door and gave Christian a cursory glance. “Where’s your old man?”
“Ren, this is my partner, Christian Poe. Christian, this is Ren.”
Christian took off his sunglasses.
I’d known Ren a long time, and it suddenly dawned on me that I didn’t know his last name. Most of Crush’s friends went by one name, and I had never called anyone a Mr. or Mrs. Anything.
Both men squared their shoulders and locked eyes like two caged animals about to fight. After a few seconds, Christian lowered his gaze, a submissive gesture among Vampires.
Ren’s black hair had grey strands that blended flawlessly. He had an old-school look, like James Dean or bikers from that era. Tattoos covered his arms, not that you could see them beneath his leather jacket. Like all alphas, he exuded power. It rippled off him. Ren wasn’t a guy to mess with, but he was exactly the kind of man you wanted on your side.
Ren stepped back to let us in. Unlike most private rooms I’d seen, this one reeked of stale cigarette smoke and looked more like someone’s living room. No contemporary wall lights, no wet bar, and no giant television. A round rattan coffee table with a wood top sat between two brown couches that had been collecting dust since 1976.
Ren shucked off his leather coat and flung it onto the left-hand sofa. “I’ve only got orange soda. I thought Crush was coming.”
I sat on the opposite sofa and noticed the cluster of unopened bottles on the table, nary a beer in sight. “Everything going okay with you?” I asked, trying to be social before we dove into business.
He sat down, knees apart, fingers laced across his stomach. “Could be better. Could be worse.”
Ren wasn’t much of a talker.
He glanced up at Christian. “Sit down.”
Christian tucked his sunglasses in the unbuttoned collar of his Henley. “When’s the last time that upholstery has seen a steam cleaner?”
“Never. I don’t do business looking up to anyone, so take a seat or take a hike.”
After examining a white stain on the seat cushion, Christian shot me one of those “you’re going to regret this” looks before sitting down.
Ren reached inside his pocket, retrieved a silver lighter, and snapped it open with two fingers. “You’re my last resort.”
“Well, that’s a vote of confidence,” Christian said, not hiding his contempt.
Ren’s thumb rolled over the flint wheel, creating sparks. “A few Packmasters recently got together at a long-overdue peace party, and after everyone left, we got to talking. Some of us have had a few unexplained deaths. Obviously Shifters don’t live forever. Kids have accidents, and over the years, some people just drop dead for no apparent reason. It’s not common, but it happens.”
“If that’s the case, what makes you think there’s something fishy going on?”
“Well, it’s not just the wolf packs. One guy heard about a few rogues who bit the dust without explanation. Another heard stories about other animal groups. One of the Packmasters in our group happens to be a Councilman, so he hired two bounty hunters to look into it. One guy said he didn’t find anything, and the other’s an old buddy of mine from Austin. Unless there’s evidence, clues, or an assailant, there’s nothing he can do for us. He suggested we talk to a Relic.”
I watched Ren light up a smoke. “What did the Relic say?”
Ren took a long drag and then stretched his arm over the back of the sofa. “He works with some of the packs, so he already knew about a couple. He said we don’t hear about half the deaths that really go on, and it’s not out of the ordinary. He suggested we stop all the conspiracy theories before it leaks and starts a panic. I’m inclined to agree with him.” After taking another puff and exhaling through his nose, he continued. “That could do more harm than good, especially if it turns out to be nothing. We’re still keeping him in the loop, but it’s not really a position I want to put him in if it means ruining his reputation. People won’t trust him with their secrets anymore.”
“Do you have a list of names I can look at?”
Putting the cigarette between his lips, Ren dragged his jacket toward him and retrieved an envelope from the inside pocket.
I reached across the table and took it.
“Don’t let anyone see that,” he warned with a shake of his finger. “We wrote down every single death we knew about in the past year, so maybe not all of them are connected. If the Relic’s right, it could come back to bite me in the ass. It doesn’t take much to start rumors, especially after all that bullshit that went down with the higher authority running cage fights.”
“That’s not what happened,” I pointed out. “We busted some reps who work for them, but you can’t pin it on the entire organization.”
“All the same.”