by Macy Blake
“Hey,” Drew replied.
“May I sit with you?”
Drew nodded. Strangely, he wasn’t really afraid of Shaq at all. He was scared of what he was. Of the unknown. He wondered if there was something wrong with him, something that drew craziness to him. He shivered as Shaq sat.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “Just…a really weird night, you know?”
“I can imagine.”
“Hellhound?”
Shaq shrugged one giant shoulder and smiled bashfully. “Alpha hellhound.”
Drew nodded again. “So the boss of the hellhounds. Tell me more.”
Shaq leaned closer and propped his elbow on the table. He dropped his chin in his hand. “What do you want to know?”
His eyes had little dancing flames in them, red and orange and yellow moving around like magic. Which Drew realized was exactly what they were. “Your eyes are so amazing.”
Shaq grinned and reached out to touch Drew’s arm. He traced it down to his hand before lightly touching Drew’s fingers. “Thank you. Yours are, too.”
“No, they aren’t. They’re plain brown. You’re very distracting,” Drew said. “I should ask you what a hellhound is. What you do. Why you run a bar. I should ask you why you ran out of here earlier. And why I’m not more of a blubbering idiot after finding out you’re real.”
“So ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Drew tried to decide what he wanted to know most. “Those guys. Earlier. They were scared of you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Shaq slowly moved their fingers together, gliding his rough ones over Drew’s “That’s a complicated question. I can give you the long answer or the short.”
Drew gulped, unsure what to ask, which answer he really wanted. But again, it wasn’t really what he wanted to know. He gulped in a breath. “They were after me. Were they like you?”
“No. They’re not hellhounds. But they are shifters. Wolf shifters to be precise. There are a lot of different kinds of shifters. I’m a bit different. Hellhounds are blessed by the Goddess.”
“And the werewolves aren’t?”
Shaq shook his head. “Many, many years ago, the Mother Goddess stepped down and gifted her three daughters with the care of the world as we know it. All magical creatures are under their purview. My goddess is one of the daughters. She is charged with protecting the secret of our magic. I am her champion, and the hellhounds are her shifters to call.”
Drew found himself leaning closer, fascinated by a world he hadn’t even known existed. It explained some things that had never quite made sense, though. It didn’t hurt anything that Shaq’s voice was deep and melodic. Drew wanted him to keep talking just so he could hear his voice again. “Shifter to call. What does that mean?” Drew asked.
“That means that we report directly to our goddess where other shifters do not.”
“So… how do you protect the secret?”
“Very carefully,” Shaq teased. His eyebrow quirked up and Drew couldn’t help but grin in return.
“I bet you just get all growly and scary like you did with those wolves earlier.”
“Sometimes. Other times I have to take a different course of action, especially if humans are placed in danger. I had to leave earlier because I’d revealed our secret to you. I’d broken my oath to defend the secret and needed to see my goddess.”
Drew gasped and clenched Shaq’s hand in his. “Are you in trouble?”
Shaq leaned closer, tangling their fingers together. “No, I’m not in trouble.”
Drew’s stomach fluttered nervously and he leaned back, clearing his throat. “So, um, do the other sister goddesses have shifters to call, too? Or is it just you who is special?”
Shaq grinned and reached for the glass of soda sitting between them. “Need a drink?” He held it up to Drew’s lips and waited for Drew to take a sip before setting it down again.
“You’re such a flirt,” Drew said. His cheeks were no doubt turning pink.
“Only with you.”
Drew scoffed and reached for the glass, taking it out of Shaq’s hand and lifting it to his lips again. His hands weren’t shaking as badly as they had been before. “I doubt that.”
“It’s true,” Shaq said. “There’s something about you.”
Another little tidbit Drew wasn’t sure how to process. He didn’t want to admit how drawn he was to Shaq as well. How safe he felt, even though the information he was getting seemed like some fantasy world that only existed in books or movies.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Drew said instead of acknowledging anything else.
“Yes, the other sisters have their champions as well. Ever heard of the wolves of the sea?”
Drew shivered once more and shook his head as Shaq began tracing his thumb softly over his knuckles.
“Humans call them killer whales. They hunt in packs, just like wolves. They’re pains in the ass sometimes, just like wolves. And the champion? He’s a mean fucker. Don’t worry, I could take him. But still. The attitude on that guy. He spends more time in the water than out of it, so I count that as a win.”
Drew’s thoughts swirled around, circling back. “But you aren’t in trouble?”
“No, Drew. I’m not in trouble. I’m worried about you. Shelly says you’re in shock.”
“I’m cold.”
“Okay.” Shaq turned toward the door where several of his pack members were huddled. “Sol, Drew’s cold. Anyone have a blanket or something?”
Sol nodded and walked outside. Shaq returned his attention to Drew. “Did you eat anything?”
He shook his head. “My stomach is a little… it wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Okay. When you’re feeling better, if you want, we can go back to my place. I have some tea. That might help.”
Sol returned and held out an old flannel blanket that had seen better days. Shaq scowled at it, but placed it over Drew’s legs gently. “Better?”
“I’m not helpless,” Drew said. “I’m not weak.”
“I never thought you were.”
“This is all… a lot.”
“You’re doing great,” Shaq added. “It’s scary finding out all of this exists. But my promise still holds, Drew. I’ll keep you safe. I told you I would, and now my goddess has asked it of me. You will be safe.”
“Why… why are they after me? I don’t understand. I was safe. I mean, God. A werewolf is after me? What does he want with me? I mean… God.”
“Breathe, Drew.”
Shaq cupped his hand around Drew’s neck, the gesture quickly becoming one Drew loved. The warmth of Shaq’s big palm, the steady presence. Drew breathed, his gaze locked on the trembling flames in Meshaq’s eyes.
“That’s it,” Shaq said. He stroked his thumb along Drew’s cheek. “You’re fine. My goddess is looking into it. She will let me know. It’s actually… a long story? But as soon as I know more, I’ll tell you.”
Drew could only focus on Shaq. He breathed again. “Why do I feel better around you?”
“It’s an alpha thing. Well, maybe it’s a me thing. Sol says I collect orphans, broken people.”
“The white knight thing, huh?”
Shaq shrugged and shifted closer. “Still cold?”
“A little. The jacket and blanket are helping. And, you know, your hand is pretty hot, too.”
“Only my hand?” Shaq teased.
Drew couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m not answering that.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to. You want to lean against me? It might help warm you up.”
Drew considered, chewing on his lip for a moment before sliding a little closer. He was immediately enveloped by Shaq’s body heat, warmth rolling through him in waves. He couldn’t help trembling again. “I should be afraid of you. I don’t even know what a hellhound is.”
Shaq’s arm settled over his shoulder and Drew sighed. The mi
nutes stretched, only the sounds of Walt banging around in the kitchen distracting him from his thoughts.
“I’m so confused,” Drew confessed.
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, you know,” Shaq said. “You’re allowed to ask questions tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.”
“I’ll be here that long?”
“If you want to be.”
Drew sighed again. “I don’t know what I want.”
Shaq rubbed his arm, the heat passing through even the thick leather jacket. “What if we head back to my place and you get some rest? Tomorrow will be better.”
Drew didn’t move, even though he knew Shaq was right. “How long is this fog going to last?”
“I don’t know.” Shaq whispered the words against Drew’s temple.
They sat quietly for another few minutes until Walt emerged from the kitchen with a glower. “You still sittin’ there? Get the boy back to your place, Shaq. Makin’ him sit there all night.”
Drew started to protest, to explain that he’d not been ready, but then he noticed Shelly holding her hand over her face to hide her smile.
“W-we were waiting on you, slow poke. Took you f-forever to finish,” Drew said.
Walt stared at him, stunned into silence, and Shelly lost her battle with her laughter. The rest of the guys began to laugh as well, their voices carrying from where they were huddled near the entrance to the bar. Walt glared at him for a second before he began to smirk.
“Good one,” Walt finally said. “You’re gonna fit in just fine. Let’s get out of here already. I’m tired.”
Drew stood and laid the blanket that had been over his legs across the top of the table. He sucked in a breath and blew it out again. “Okay.”
Shaq moved with him, keeping his arm over Drew’s shoulders. Drew eyed the rest of the guys warily, but none of them made a move toward him. Hellhounds. Every time he thought the word, something in Drew’s brain stuttered. He couldn’t seem to process this new reality.
“Okay, let’s go,” Drew repeated as he started moving again.
“Teague, get it locked up. Sol, make sure Shelly gets home and then check and make sure the wolves are gone.”
“On it, bossman,” Sol quipped.
Shaq scowled at him, but from as close as he was, Drew could see that it wasn’t an angry scowl. Shaq looked angry a lot, but he wasn’t actually. It must be a lot of pressure to be the alpha of the hellhounds.
“The wolves aren’t out there, are they?” He leaned closer to Shaq, absorbing more of the heat that rolled out of him.
“No. They aren’t that stupid. But I’ll have my pack check outside before we go out there.”
The rest of them scattered, leaving only Shaq, Drew, Walt and Shelly in the bar.
Drew pulled in a breath. “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble.”
“Oh honey,” Shelly said softly. “You aren’t any trouble at all. Believe me. You want to hear about trouble? Let me tell you the first time we met old Hound Dog here.”
“Hey!” Walt frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring menacingly at her. “Don’t go tellin’ tales, woman.”
She grinned and stepped close to Drew’s other side. “So, this guy comes in, right? Dressed in camo from head to toe, mean as a snake, and looking to get rip roaring drunk. I mean, he’s doing shots of Jack faster than I can bring them to him. He was plastered within a half hour.”
“Was not.”
Shelly snorted her reply to that, but otherwise ignored him. “So then, the genius decides to pick a fight. I don’t think he cared with who. He goes up to one of the customers, Big Bill, remember, Shaq?”
“I remember,” Shaq said.
“So he pokes Big Bill right in the chest and says ‘What’s your problem, buddy?’”
“He didn’t,” Drew gasped.
“He sure did. Well, you know how it is around here. We’re safe, right? So Sol comes up behind him, but Big Bill, who’s really a giant teddy bear but he does have a bit of a temper, he says, my only problem is your knobby finger in my chest. I’d suggest you remove it.”
“No,” Drew said.
Shelly nodded and continued. “So Hound Dog, well, he decides that wasn’t okay. He pokes Big Bill right in the chest again.”
“Hound Dog!” Drew turned to look at Walt, his eyes wide. “What’d you do that for?”
Walt stared at him then shrugged. “Was havin’ a bad day.”
“Ya think?” Drew asked. “What happened next?”
“So Walt doesn’t know that Sol’s right behind him, but of course, Big Bill, he knows. And he knows he better not start something because he also knows Shaq’s rules. You cause trouble, you’re out of here. Keeps them all on their best behavior, right?”
Drew nods. “I was a little worried when I got here last night. They were a bit intimidating?”
Shelly nodded back at him. “Totally. I’ll tell you the story of how I got here another day, but Walt’s is so much better.”
“It’s good.”
“Right? So anyway, Big Bill just stands there and let’s Walt poke him in the chest, and he looks at Solomon like he pokes me one more time and I’m putting him down. And Sol kinda shrugs because honestly, I think he was pretty entertained by the whole thing. And then Shaq comes back and he’s just standing there at the door like a big lug, not sure what’s going on. So I go over to him to explain and about that time, Hound Dog decides to take a swing. Problem is, he’s so drunk at that point, he kinda does this thing where he spins in a circle and winds up across a table?”
“No,” Drew gasped. He glanced at Walt, who had his hand over his face and was shaking his head.
“Oh yeah,” Shelly said. “And not just any table, a table with a whole bunch of glasses on it, because Izzy happened to be out that night so I was pretty much handling the tables myself. So glasses and empty bottles go flying, glass breaks and goes everywhere. Big Bill starts laughing his ass off, which pisses our Hound Dog right off and he tries to take another swing, and ends up on his ass.”
“Oh my God, Hound Dog. Did you get hurt?”
Walt glared over at Shelly. “I think she’s embellishing a little.”
“No, she’s not.” Both Shaq and Solomon spoke at the same time and Drew couldn’t help but laugh.
“So then,” Shelly continued, “Shaq comes over and basically picks Walt up by the scruff of his neck. He takes him into the back and says that he’s gonna wash dishes and make up for what he broke. I don’t know exactly what else he said to him, but whatever it was, Walt didn’t argue. He just started washing.”
Drew didn’t miss the look that Walt sent Shaq’s way. It was one of respect. Drew glanced at him as well. His nerves settled a little more.
“It gets better,” Shelly says, drawing Drew’s attention back to her. “So, at that point, our old cook had up and quit. He was kinda a jerk, but another of Meshaq’s misfits, so what can you do? I got in the back and start trying to make some nachos. It was the only thing I could do. I just heated up some of that cheese stuff and then dumped a pile of chips on the plate. Walt was horrified.”
“Nothing that color should ever be consumed,” Walt protested. “It’s not natural. Neon is not the color of food from nature!”
Drew couldn’t help but snicker.
“Whatever you say, Hound Dog,” Shelly said. “So he sees what I’m doing and gets all flabbergasted. I love that word, don’t you?”
Drew nodded. “It’s fun.”
“Well, it’s exactly what Hound Dog was. Flabbergasted. And he kinda moves me out of the way and starts banging around, and then he hands me this plate of nachos. I mean, it was still the same cheese—”
“That was all you had! Disgusting!”
Shelly grinned. “Revolting. But when I took ‘em out, another half dozen customers caught sight of the plate and asked for an order of them, too. So I tiptoe right back to the kitchen and ask Walt if he’d mind making s
ome more.”
Walt huffed. “Couldn’t say no to such a pretty lady, now could I?”
“I guess not,” Shelly said with a blush.
Drew wondered how long it was going to take those two to figure out they were crazy about each other. “So he stayed after that?”
“He did. He and Big Bill go fishing together now.”
“No way.”
“Way,” Shelly said. “And Walt’s been with us ever since. Best cook I’ve ever known. The man is a miracle in the kitchen.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Walt barked. “I’m leaving if you’re done tellin’ tales.”
“I have more,” Shelly said.
Walt threw his hands up in the air and headed for the door. Shelly giggled and followed him out.
“They’re good people,” Drew said quietly.
“They are.” Shaq rubbed his hand gently over Drew’s arm, holding him close against his side. “We’re still good people, even if we’re something else, too.”
Drew nodded and let Shaq guide him outside. He wasn’t sure what he believed anymore, but he did believe that.
Meshaq
When his front door opened several hours later, Meshaq glanced up with a frown to see Solomon walking inside. “What?”
“What, he says. Like this whole night hasn’t been unusual. Did you really think we weren’t going to talk about it?”
Shaq scowled down at Drew’s sleeping form. They’d sat together on his couch for a while after they got back from the bar. Drew had his tea and had finally fallen asleep leaning against Shaq’s arm. He’d managed to get him laid out on the couch after a while, and Drew was currently using Shaq’s thigh as a pillow while he slept.
“We’re not big talkers, are we, Sol?”
Sol smirked but moved closer to sit on the edge of the ottoman where Shaq’s feet were propped. He glanced at Drew before raising his gaze to Shaq’s once more. “So what’s it like?”
Shaq frowned again. Drew stirred, as if sensing his annoyance, so he gently rubbed his arm until he settled. “What’s what like?”
Sol gave him a disbelieving look. “Finding your mate, you asshole. What’s it like?”
Shaq huffed. “He’s not my—”