Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  “Interesting. Beyond an argument, what else do you sense?”

  “By the door there’s sadness. Someone was having a bad night. I sense jealousy in the far corner. And near the bar…” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Passion. Lust. Someone was very, very aroused.”

  “Really?” He walked over to the area she indicated. “And you say these lingering emotions can affect those who pass through them?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He grinned. “Then come here.”

  “Dante!”

  He reached out and pulled her close. “I want to test this cloud.”

  She laughed. “I don’t—”

  Whatever she’d been going to say was cut off as he kissed her. Last night had been about comfort and support but now, now he wanted something more. He kissed her deeply, letting her know what he wanted and she responded in kind, her kiss fierce, hungry.

  She tugged impatiently at the buttons on his shirt, making a pleased sound when she finally encountered his bare flesh. Her hand slid lower and then she was trying to work her fingers below his belt.

  He gripped her shoulders and pushed her back. His breathing rough as he spoke. “I think we can say this cloud works.”

  “It does.” She nipped his lower lip while her hand caressed him.

  He groaned at the sensations she was creating. “Here? In the bar?”

  She shrugged. “No one is here and I haven’t had sex on this bar before.”

  “A first then?”

  “There are a few left. Not many, but a few.” She stared directly into his eyes, a challenge evident as if daring him to criticize.

  Instead, he laughed. “Then I’m delighted to be the one to initiate you.” He picked her up and deposited her on the bar. The surface was old and scarred but the polish gleamed none the less, the marks merely adding another dimension to the grain of the wood.

  He studied her, taking in her red hair and pale skin, the heat of her gaze, the way she licked her lip.

  Obviously impatient, she reached out and pulled him closer, her hands busy on his buttons. “Don’t just stand there.”

  The demand in her voice caused him to pause. “Bossy.”

  “I know what I want and I don’t like waiting.”

  “Be careful, Gwyneth. I might take that as a challenge.”

  “Take it any way you want as long as you fuck me soon.”

  He didn’t respond immediately. He hadn’t managed to stay alive this long without knowing when to wait, to read an opponent carefully before acting. And Gwyneth was an opponent. They were in an unspoken battle and it was one he fully intended winning. Time to start drawing a line in the sand.

  He took half a step back. “I don’t fuck.”

  “What?” Her eyes showed her confusion.

  “I have sex, make love, go to bed…” He gently tucked an errant strand behind her ear.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug.” I have my standards. Fucking is crude; an act that means nothing and is best left to porn stars, hookers and horny teenagers.”

  “And unfeeling bastards.”

  “Are you implying that’s what I am?”

  She leaned back on her arms and considered him. “Right now, I’m not sure.”

  “When you make up your mind, we’ll continue…or not.” He began to rebutton his shirt.

  “That’s it? You’re stopping simply because I used a word you don’t like?” Gwyneth sat up straight.

  “Got it in one.” He brushed his thumb over her swollen lips and then walked away ignoring the ache of his body. Giving in to her now would garner him nothing but momentary physical relief. His goal was bigger than that. He had realised at some point during the dark hours of the night that he wanted a relationship with her beyond casual sex. If he gave in now, he’d be condemning himself to mere physical gratification.

  There was a rustling behind him.

  “Wait.”

  He turned to see she had slid off the bar. “This is the second time you’ve done this.”

  “Done what?”

  “Walked away from me in this bar.”

  For a moment he frowned before understanding dawned. It seemed so long ago, that initial visit to Mystique. “Leaving the bar because of inferior cognac hardly counts as walking away from you. And you did refuse to share your private stock with me. What other option was left?”

  “Like I said at the time, my private stock is for friends.”

  “I think we’re at least that.”

  She cocked her head. “Are you asking for a drink?”

  “It might help take my mind off…things.” He swept his gaze over her body.

  “One drink. I could use one anyway.” She turned and walked towards the back. “You know, your hands could have been on those…things…if you weren’t so worried about semantics.”

  “And you wouldn’t be needing a drink if you didn’t talk trash.”

  “Saying ‘fuck me’ isn’t talking trash.”

  He raised his brows. “Then what is it?”

  “Making my needs known. I’m not some shrinking violet.”

  “Only in the emotional sense.”

  She glared at him but he didn’t care. There was a time to wait and a time to push and his gut was telling him now was the time to start pushing.

  Reno parked his rental in front of the Chicago pack house and turned off the engine. He’d dropped Brandi off at the Universal Coven. She was meeting with the Magissa to go over recent events. His offer to stay and help had been dismissed.

  “I’m a big girl, Reno.” Brandi had given him a quick kiss. “I’ll be fine.”

  “After what happened yesterday—”

  “It wasn’t Camille’s fault.”

  He knew she was correct but it hadn’t made driving away any easier. At least talking to Damien about Dante would take his mind off things. The conversation they were about to have would be like walking through a minefield. Taking a deep breath, he exited the car.

  It didn’t take long for Sam to answer the doorbell.

  “Hey Reno!” She ushered him in and led him to the kitchen. “Damien and I were just talking about you.”

  “All good, I hope.”

  “Er…”

  He frowned. “What’s up?”

  “Damien’s pissed that we suspected Dante was his father and didn’t tell him. I tried to explain but he’s in a mood.”

  “I’m not in a mood,” Damien called out.

  “Yes, you are.” Sam said as they entered the kitchen. “Probably because you’re hung over.”

  “And I’m not hung over.”

  She snorted.

  “What happened to the sympathy you were giving me last night?”

  “Last night you weren’t being a stubborn, argumentative pain in the ass.”

  “I can come back,” Reno suggested.

  Damien scowled at him. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to sit the hell down and answer some questions.”

  Reno stilled, a beat passing before he replied. “I’ll take recent circumstances into consideration and not grab you by the scruff of the neck and shake you as if you were still the belligerent pup I met at the Academy.”

  Damien pressed his lips together and looked away, eventually muttering a sullen apology. “Sorry.”

  Reno nodded and sat down. Sam, her back to Damien, mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ before she began to play hostess.

  “Coffee, Reno?” She reached for Damien’s mug. “I’m getting more for Damien so it’s not a problem.”

  “Thanks.” Reno smiled. “I can never have enough coffee.”

  Damien sighed. “I don’t need more coffee.”

  “If your mouth is full of coffee, there’s less chance you’ll say something stupid and offend one of your oldest friends.” Sam took another mug from the cupboard.

  “I won’t be able to offend him because I’ll be in the bath
room peeing my brains out.” Damien shifted in his chair and Reno burst out laughing.

  Sam began to laugh as well and the tension in the room eased.

  “So,” Reno leaned back in his chair. “What questions do you have about Dante? Most of what I know was on the thumb-drive I gave you.”

  Damien rubbed his hands over his face and then dragged his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s more than my brain can process. Did you know the man tried to blackmail me last time he was in Chicago?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Reno nodded his thanks as Sam set a steaming cup in front of him.

  “And he had some two-bit thug whack me on the head with a two-by-four and handcuff me.”

  “I still think it was a kinky game,” Sam quipped from where she was leaning against the counter drinking a glass of milk.

  Damien gave her a filthy look before continuing. “What kind of father does that?”

  Reno shrugged having no answer.

  “He’s spent his life trying to hunt down the witch who killed your mother,” Sam pointed out.

  “Or so he says,” Damien countered.

  She ignored him and continued. “You were never really in danger.”

  Damien drank some of his coffee. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  “I’m not saying he’s a saint.” Sam set down the now empty glass of milk. “But he saved me and the baby from harm. And his voice when he spoke about you…there was something in it that made me believe he does care about you.”

  Damien looked away.

  Sam pushed off from the counter. “I have work to do. You talk to him, Reno.”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing.” Reno watched as Sam left the room. “I was on the phone with Fielding this morning, bringing him up to speed and he let something slip.”

  “Slip?” Damien snorted. “That man doesn’t let anything slip.”

  “Right.” Reno took a swig of his coffee. “He said Dante’s the reason you were pardoned when you went rogue.”

  “What? No. I don’t believe it.” Damien gave his head a shake. “That was you.”

  Reno shrugged. “I went to bat for you, but it wasn’t looking good. Then suddenly your record was clear.”

  “Fielding must be getting senile. How would Dante be able to get me a pardon?”

  “No idea.” Reno drank some more coffee. “I also had a call from Higgins.”

  “Higgins? I’ve never known him to directly call anyone. He doesn’t rub elbows with lowly Enforcers.”

  “He likes to think we’re on the same page with regards to Dante.”

  Damien cocked his head. “I don’t follow.”

  “Remember how I was supposed to babysit Dante? Watch from afar but do nothing? Well, Higgins’ plan was that once Dante took out the malefic witch I was supposed to bring Dante in.”

  “Why now? I’m sure it’s not the first time Dante’s crossed the line.”

  “Higgins is worried the witch community will take offence to a Lycan interfering and it might harm the Alliance. Higgins wanted the malefic witch gone. He’d been hiding the problem for years, but rumours were spreading.

  Damien snorted. “Our beloved director has always been about public image.”

  “He hired Dante to do the job and now wants Dante to take the fall for it.” Reno shook his head. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not bringing Dante in.”

  “Disobeying an order from the Director?”

  “Yep.” Reno leaned forward, linking his hands on top of the table. “That Cyrus guy needed to be taken out. Dante’s action fell under the ‘for the good of all’ rule. Plus, he was hired by Lycan Link to do it.”

  “Higgins will be pissed off.”

  “Won’t be the first time.” Reno shrugged. “But here’s the thing. Once Higgins finds out, he’ll likely contact you since Dante is in your territory. If he does, what will you do?

  Damien stared at him, then abruptly stood, his chair legs scraping loudly on the floor in the silence that had filled the room. He put his cup in the sink then stayed there, looking out the window, his hands gripping the edge of the countertop. “Did I ever tell you, I despised Dante as soon as I met him? He looked at me and made some comment and that was it, hate at first sight. And now I find out he’s my father, that he’s just avenged my mother’s death.” He shook his head. “I’ve no idea how I feel or what the hell to do about it.”

  Chapter 31

  Dante stood by the window of his hotel room. He’d left Gwyneth at the Club. She was waiting for a delivery and then had to make the bank deposit. They hadn’t exactly parted amicably. She wasn’t pleased he was pushing her for a deeper relationship. As near as he could determine that was the norm in her life and, if he had his way, it wasn’t going to remain the status quo.

  In the meantime, he had some loose ends to tie up. He needed to contact Higgins. Yeah, that was going to be an interesting conversation. And a meeting with Damien was also needed, provided the boy would see him.

  Boy.

  He chuckled to himself thinking Damien wouldn’t appreciate the term, then sobered as he allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like to actually be a father. To have watched his son learn to walk, to be called dad, to help him learn to ride a bike. Those experiences were lost forever. Maybe, just maybe, he’d get to experience them vicariously when the baby, his grandchild, was born.

  If he was allowed into their lives.

  His son deserved a full explanation. Plus, he’d like to tell Damien about his mother. And, of course, warn him about the curse. If there was a way to keep Damien from experiencing more heartbreak, he’d do his best to see it happen.

  There had to be a way to reverse the curse. He’d study the spells on his phone again, maybe even ask Gwyneth for some help.

  His phone rang and he checked the number. Higgins. Apparently, the director of Lycan Link was impatient to hear from him. The man might wish he’d waited once the conversation was over, though.

  “Hello, Higgins.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

  “Aww. You miss me.” He blew a kiss.

  “Cut the comedy routine. I heard you took care of the malefic witch.”

  “The rumour mill has been busy.”

  “You have your sources. I have mine.” Higgins sounded entirely too satisfied with himself.

  His radar went on alert. What was Higgins up to? Some kind of double-cross?

  “I’ll arrange for the remainder of your payment to be paid into your account.” Higgins cleared his throat. “What are your plans now? Staying in the city for a while?”

  Yeah, Higgins was planning something. The director of Lycan Link was an ass but not an idiot. If Higgins sensed he was planning on cutting loose, it wouldn’t sit well. Putting the infamous Dante Salazar in detention would be a feather in Higgins’ cap.

  Dante pursed his lips. Smith was in town. The Enforcer had been a decent sort while they were working to bring down Cyrus but how far could he be trusted? After all those years at Lycan Link was Smith so entrenched in the culture of the place that he’d follow Higgins’ orders regardless of his personal feelings?

  It would seem the time had come to play his ace.

  He sat down, lounging back in his chair. “I was considering somewhere in the Caribbean. Have you ever been there?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “I had the impression you had.” Dante smiled. “By the way, Higgins, I’ve come across an interesting bit of information. It seems you have a substantial sum tucked away in a Caribbean tax haven.” The remark was met with silence and Dante laughed silently to himself. There was a perverse pleasure in making men like Higgins sweat. “Selling passwords to Lycan Link’s classified files must be a lucrative sideline.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Now if I told you, it would ruin the mystery in our relationship, wouldn’t it?”

  “You have no proof.”

  “Are you sure?”
/>
  It was a minute before Higgins replied. “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing. For now. I’m simply pointing out I carry insurance.”

  “Insurance?”

  He didn’t elaborate. Higgins knew damned well what he meant. “You’ve been treating me like your trained dog lately.”

  “That’s your opinion. I say we had a fair deal. Masterston’s name was cleared and you agreed to work for me.”

  “And I did but this was my last job.”

  Silence. When Higgins spoke again, his tone was ingratiating. “Of course, Dante. You’re a free agent. We have no hold over you.”

  “There’ll be no bounty on my head. No files suddenly being reopened. Damien’s name stays in the clear. If I go down or anyone I have connections to goes down, you go down as well. I’ve left instructions with my lawyer. If something should ever happen to me, papers outlining your activities will be sent to every member of High Council.”

  “But—”

  He hung up while Higgins was still sputtering.

  Well, that was one job off his list. Next was contacting Damien. He tossed his phone lightly in his hand wondering if he should call or go right to the pack house. Calling was the coward’s way and he knew it. Facing Damien and seeing the hatred in his son’s face wasn’t going to be easy though.

  During their first face-to-face meeting years ago, he’d purposely pissed Damien off with the intention of keeping the boy at arm’s length. It had worked. Too well. And it hadn’t helped that his role at the time had been exceptionally disreputable.

  He was pacing the room wondering what he’d say when there was a knock at the door.

  “Housekeeping.”

  He checked the peep hole and then unlocked the door.

  “Roxi?” It was his local snitch.

  She pushed a cleaning cart into his room. “Surprised to see me?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes. I don’t recall giving you permission to contact me here.”

  “I’m not contacting you. I actually work here when I’m not with Magic Cleaners.” She looked about the room, then headed to the bathroom speaking over her shoulder. “This isn’t my usual floor. I only started here yesterday.”

  “Hmm.”