Baby + the Late Night Howlers

by Kathryn Moon

  I was grinning. I’d gotten one of my alphas off. Or he’d gotten himself off. At least I’d been involved though. Jonah hadn’t even let me try and touch him the night before.

  “Too much?” Ryan asked, and I wondered if I imagined the note of uncertainty.

  “Nope,” I answered, tilting my head back so he could see my dopey happy expression. His answering smile was faint, but those amber eyes lit up as they took me in. “Does it hurt?” I asked, glancing down between us. There was a damp patch on the crotch of his pants. “You know…when you’re not in?”

  He snorted. “No. And don’t let any of the others tell you different. It’s gonna be a million times better when I bury my knot in you, sweetness. But it’s certainly no hardship getting off without that.” He kissed my forehead and then swept my hair off my neck. A grin flickered on his face, making the edgy man reveal a hint of the delighted boy. “Scorch is gonna have a fit when he sees that. Worth it.”

  “Tell him it was the only way to get me to stop begging you to knot me,” I said, shrugging.

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed with laughter as he forced the grin down, and he looked like he was having a real hard time keeping it locked up. “Don’t think I won’t.”

  I was giving him the biggest, dumbest smile, and he looked just a few shades warmer than he had showing up the night before, but I had a feeling that any expression on Ryan said a lot.

  “You haven’t kissed me yet,” I said.

  He hummed and nodded. “You’re right. Too busy making you cream my fingers.” But then he curled over me, lips sliding across mine and taking decadent, gentle sips from my mouth like he hadn’t just been snarling like an animal on my back minutes ago. The kiss was slow and lingering, and Ryan let me take the lead, searching for the hints of ginger in his woodsy flavor until we were all tangled around each other, arms cocooning our languid bodies. I didn’t feel riled up this time. Ryan had satisfied any itch from the heat, and he seemed more than content, pressing soft marks on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead.

  “It’s time for you to meet the others,” he said. “Really meet them. Bomber’s taking Scorch out on a club errand. I’ll show you around.”

  I sat up, knocking Ryan back to the pillows as excitement ran through me. “Really? Yes. Okay. I need to shower.”

  His hand wrapped around my wrist before I could escape the bed, and he tugged me back down to his chest, his other hand pulling my mouth to his.

  “Don’t,” he snarled softly, face tense. He took a brief, rough kiss and then met my eyes again. “You smell like me.”

  I grinned at him and watched the smooth features of his face relax infinitesimally. “Gotcha. No shower. You gonna wash your hands at least?”

  Ryan may not have laughed, but I was learning that his eyes lightened when he wanted to. “I’ll think about it.”

  12

  Scorch

  Bomber and I walked out of the barbershop, the stares of Buzzard and Indy—Prez and VP of the MC just north of us, Hell’s Hangmen MC—striking our backs like fists. I hated giving those pricks my back, but somebody had to walk out of Uno’s first and we were on neutral territory. Even those bastards weren’t stupid enough to strike on neutral territory. Especially not at Uno’s. That man was terrifying. I was just glad he wanted peace in the city instead of war.

  “What’s got you all tangled up? I thought that went well, all things considered,” Bomber said, watching me as we walked to where our sleds—our pride and joy rides—were waiting by the curb. It’d been just barely warm enough to take them out, although it’d taken most of the meeting for my ears to warm up again.

  I grunted and nodded. “Sure. I just… with everything with Baby, I think I slipped and started to forget about the ugly side of how we live. The kind of thing we brought her into.”

  “Hey,” Bomber’s shoulder nudged against mine. “That’s not how we live. And Baby’s nowhere near here. If the truce holds, she’s never gonna see that ugly side, right? That’s why this MC started in the first place. To keep this neighborhood safe from that shit.”

  “Right.” If the truce held. Which I would never, not even to my last breath, trust that it would. That would mean letting my guard down and giving the Hangmen an opening. To the city, and to the club. The club Baby might become a part of. Shit.

  “Wow. I can really see my pep talk doing you so much good,” Bomber said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get back to the Howlers, yeah?” I nodded, and Bomber sighed. “Monosyllabic to nonsyllabic. My work here is done.”

  My lips twitched with a smile at his nagging and I shook my head. “Alright, alright. Let’s get back.” I stopped in front of the storefront next to Uno’s and stared through the window at the bright blooms inside. “Should we get Baby flowers?”

  “How you think those are gonna hold up on the ride back to HQ?” Bomber asked with a grin.

  My smile fell away at that. Right. We’d show up with a pack of stems with nothing on ‘em. Neither of us had storage on these rides.

  “Shit. Got you broody again. C’mon. Let’s get back to Baby. I can think of one thing she wants from us, and it sure as shit isn’t flowers,” Bomber said.

  “She deserves them though,” I said.

  Baby deserved anything she wanted. And since that didn’t seem to be much, given her delight at that basket I’d offered her last night, I felt she deserved a lot more than what she wanted too. I’d put an order in for the flowers. Have them delivered with a card when she wasn’t expecting it.

  I hopped onto the back of my bike, pulling my goggles and bandana up. It was a sunny day, thawed out some from the last snow, and anyway, it wasn’t like any self-respecting biker was gonna show up to this kind of meeting in a cage for their ride. I kicked the bike to life and shot forward out of the spot, Bomber close on my heels as we headed south through the old city to our place.

  The cold was bitter on my ears as I flew down the streets, around the worst of traffic and straight home. It wasn’t a long ride, but in weather like this it wasn’t a pleasant one either. I was looking forward to spring and summer when I could take Baby out on the back of my bike. I’d have to find a helmet for her, at least until she was good and comfortable in her seat. Probably even after.

  When we reached LNH Plaza, I was steering my bike back to the garages out back, when I noticed the crowd inside Full Moon. Sitting in the corner booth by the window, perched on the back of the seat between Books’ red head and Tornado’s dark one, was Baby. I came to a short stop in front of the diner, Bomber making a sharp turn to pull up next to me.

  “What the hell is she doing down here?” I asked.

  Bomber snorted and shook his head, putting his ride in park and heading for the door, leaving me frowning at my own reflection in the large diner windows. Raucous voices poured out from the open door as Bomber stepped inside. “Havin’ a fuckin’ party?” he asked grinning. The room cheered as he entered.

  I followed him in and either the room wasn’t as excited to see their Prez, or I was wearing the wrong expression for the mood. “What’s she doing down?” I asked, and immediately regretted it as Baby crossed her arms over her chest.

  From the other side of her booth Bullet raised an eyebrow. “She meant to be locked up upstairs, boss?”

  “No,” I said quickly because, in spite of Bullet’s goading, I was not a fuckin’ idiot. “No one mentioned anything. Am I Prez of this club?”

  Green stood from the end of the booth, and my eyes narrowed at the challenge on his face. “Sure are. Are you Prez of this pack too?”

  I swallowed and released a slow breath. Point taken. Baby’s care wasn’t a club matter, it was pack. “No, I am not.”

  Twelve was a lot of alpha for a pack. But a pack was a family and every alpha was equal, no matter how much tension that created. The club end of our life made that a little complicated, but Green was right. Bullet was too.

  “It was my idea,” Baby said, chin lifting. It was fuckin’ not, but I liked t
hat she wanted to stick up for her alphas. “About time for me to get to know my men.”

  Either I was a weak alpha, or a smart one, ‘cause just hearing her call these lovable shitheads her ‘men’ made me start purring. She relaxed immediately and so did the rest of the room, the whole pack aside from Dusty and Thumb hanging around tables and chairs. Books lifted up a fry coated in orange cheese and Baby ducked down, taking it with her teeth and smiling down at the alpha.

  “Come’n put your ass down, boss,” Bullet said, spread out and taking most of his side of the booth.

  Coal was crowded into the space too, eyeing Baby between Books and Tornado like he was thinking ugly thoughts about his pack mates. I didn’t care about him, only Baby, and she was glowing, grin flushed and eyes bright. Everyone around her, even the beta sweet butts on the laps of their alphas, looked happy too. Just like that, just havin’ her around.

  Green hadn’t taken his seat by the time I reached the table and I could smell Baby on him, as thick and sweet as she’d been on my fingers and Bomber’s lips the night before. And instead of wanting to deck him, like I was afraid I would when Baby started taking in other alphas, I found the last whispers of my irritation melting away. The tight frustration around Green’s eyes eased and he leaned back against the end of the booth, offering me the seat closer to Baby. Well, closer to Tornado at least, who had his chin hovering just over Baby’s knee, the quietest purr hovering in his throat.

  “How’d the meeting go?” Green asked with his voice lowered to slide under Baby’s chatter as she beamed at Books and they nerded out over somebody named Vonnegut.

  Bullet straightened up on the other side of the booth, listening in. Bomber returned from the diner counter with another basket of cheese fries. He dragged a chair from the table where Brody sat with his girl, Tiny, on his lap, the pair of them about two minutes from either fighting or fucking, if their intent stares on one another were a sign. The chair squeaked on the tile as Bomber settled himself backward in it, facing us and stealing a mouthful of fries before sliding the basket across the top to where Tornado was waiting to take over feeding our omega. He looked brighter, more present, than he usually did and I was glad to see the good just being near Baby did for him.

  “Peace was called,” Bomber said, eyes sliding to mine. “Not that Prez is satisfied.”

  “I’d be satisfied if I trusted them to keep to their word,” I answered.

  “Who?”

  The pack stiffened, and I cleared my throat as I found Baby’s stare shifting from one of us to the next, eyes slowly narrowing when silence followed her question.

  “Club business, baby girl,” I said, before glaring at Green, as if it were his fault for bringing it up.

  Baby’s lips pursed and her head tipped to the side, revealing a pinkish-purple bruise on the side of her throat. One that certainly hadn’t been there when I woke up this morning with her drooling peacefully on my t-shirt.

  “The fuck you do to her?” I asked Green in a snarl, my elbow landing heavily on the table, finger pointed to Baby’s throat.

  “What I begged him to,” Baby snapped back just as fast, and I heard Bullet grunt like she’d just nut punched him. I didn’t blame him. I’d heard Baby begging and it was about enough to have me tearing my heart out and dropping it into her little palm. Even Green’s cheeks were wearing some rare color at her announcement. “Club business doesn’t affect pack business?” she asked.

  I swallowed and faced her again. It was not right that seeing my omega in a temper, freckled cheeks flushed and lips pinched into a grimace, made me wanna drag her across the table and devour her in front of everyone.

  “Not in this case,” I said. Because a truce meant we shouldn’t hear shit from the Hangmen for a nice long time. So it would be the opposite of pack business. “If that changes, I’ll let you know.”

  Bullet and Books both looked surprised, and I felt my own surprise like a lead weight in my gut. Telling Baby about our territory issues with the Hangmen—a one-percenter MC dealing in drugs and women, and constantly waiting to push their way into our neighborhood—was the last thing I wanted to reveal to our new omega. Not that I wanted her to find out when it was too late and she was bound to us, not if it was what changed things for her.

  That’s what I hadn’t told her last night. It wasn’t just me that spooked my mother out of my father’s pack. I’d grown up in a one-percenter club that’d been fighting its way out of the crime world and into legitimacy after two of its pack members had been killed by a rival MC. I didn’t blame my mom for leaving that life. I didn’t even blame her for not taking me with her. I wouldn’t give up the life I had, the family I’d found. I just hoped the choices I’d made with this club and my pack—keeping us clean and clear of trouble—would be enough to convince Baby we were the right pack for her.

  Baby’s chin dipped in a short nod to me and my heart fired up with a roar like a well-tuned engine. Next chance I got her alone, I was gonna show her how much I liked it when she stood up to me. I might not mention that I was equally aroused when she deferred.

  13

  Baby

  “Baby, you don’t call. You don’t write.”

  I mustered a smile for Yvonne as she stepped out of the back of the Center’s enormous black SUV, smoothing her wool dress down into place. Her lips pursed as she took in the LNH Plaza with the same derisive squint in her eyes as the first time.

  “I suppose you may not get much cell service in this kind of area,” she mused.

  Ryan coughed behind me and Bullet strangled his growl.

  “It’s still the city, Yvonne. But I suppose you don’t travel out of Downtown much,” I said, shrugging one shoulder.

  “Why would I?” Yvonne asked with a genuine note of confusion.

  I snorted and shook my head. “Right, well come in and you can say hello to everyone again.”

  Yvonne sniffed, glancing briefly at the two alphas who had offered to stand and wait for the Center representative out in the cold with me. Not that it was very cold out when I was sandwiched between Ryan and Bullet.

  “As this is a…review of your situation, I’d like to keep it simple,” Yvonne said. “And private. I need to hear from you and only you today, Baby. Can you show me your nest please?”

  I swallowed, feet twisting beneath me as I held my irritation in. Sure, Yvonne was used to working with packs that had penthouses and mansions in the country, but couldn’t she just…not be a dick? Apparently not.

  “Absolutely, we’ll cut through the bar,” I said, turning on my heel and pushing Bullet inside ahead of me.

  I had more than enough faith in this pack to prove to Yvonne that I was in good hands with them. But if she only wanted to hear it from me, well then that was fine too. I was happy, I was enjoying myself as an omega, and I was being treated as much like a princess as I cared to be.

  Still, my heart twisted in my chest as we went inside the bar and found the whole pack waiting at the tables, dressed in their version of the finest. Even the girls were sitting anxiously with their alphas, at my request. If they meant something to one member of this pack, they meant something to me.

  Jonah stood as we walked in, shoulders straightening and chin lifting, and I forced my smile to stay even for him as I delivered the news, “Yvonne wants to make it a private meeting. I’m gonna take her upstairs.”

  All around the room expressions fell. Jonah’s bracing stance sagged, and I wished I could toss a bucket of water over him to wash away the hopelessness that dragged him back into his seat.

  “Of course, we’ll be down here.”

  For his benefit, and for my own—and hell, even Yvonne’s—I stepped up to where he was seated and stroked my hand across his shoulders, waiting for his face to lift so I could bend and take a simple press and sip of his kiss. Seth’s stare was soft and appreciative on us as I turned to him.

  “Make sure my alpha stays put so I can find him when I’m done,” I said with a wink, dr
awing chuckles around the room and an ease in the sinking mood.

  “You got it, precious.”

  Yvonne was better at her stony face than my own pack but at least she wasn’t rolling her eyes as I led her to the stairs up to the apartments.

  The whole Plaza had been buffed and cleaned, and upstairs it smelled less of last night’s bar patrons and more of the pack. As the door to the stairs shut behind us, Yvonne started in on her interview.

  Except she wasn’t really using questions. “The betas are an issue.”

  “Not for me, they’re not,” I answered, just as quick and sharp. I ignored her lifted eyebrow as I unlocked the apartment. “There’s no conflict of interests with the alphas. I like the girls. And you know how I feel about Seth.”

  Yvonne’s nose wrinkled as we stepped inside of the apartment, and it was as if her gaze actually traced the path of my sexual escapades—from the couch with Jonah to the kitchen counter with Seth last night right into the bedroom.

  “Well, I certainly do now,” she said, huffing. “Have you been knotted?”

  “Not yet,” I said, wondering if that was a mark for or against my alphas.

  The hard set of her face revealed nothing. “And the nest…?”

  Was my confusion completely obvious on my face? Probably, given my mouth was hanging open like a ventriloquist’s dummy who had missed its cue. I’d been nesting in this apartment for days, decorating it up like my old place, filling it with scents from my alphas. Was I supposed to be gathering twigs and sap and string like a bird?

  “Um…” Figuring that the bed was the most concentrated area of nesty-comfort, I swept my arm toward the bedroom door and led the way there. “This is the coziest spot.”