Текст книги "Cry wolf"

Автор книги: Jay Ellison

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ringlets, and she wore a long, fur-lined, silk robe and a satiny nightgown underneath. She walked toward

them in four-inch feathered mules. Kevin immediately thought of silver screen actresses like Fay Wray

that he and Hannah used to watch on TV in the afternoon when he was a kid.

The men lowered their eyes as the woman passed. Some went down on one knee, and some even

prostrated themselves before her as she moved between their ranks. Though he didn’t bow, even Roman

was silent as she approached Kevin and took his hand. Her grip was like steel, and her arm was slender

but well-muscled like she was used to working out. “I’m Anya. Roman’s alpha mate and queen of the

pack. Roman has told me much about you, Kevin. I’m happy to finally meet you.”

Kevin looked to Roman, confused by Anya’s statement, but Roman made no move to explain himself. “Yyes,

ma’am,” he stuttered, and Anya laughed.

“I’m old, but I hope I don’t look that old!” She patted self-consciously at her hair.

“No, ma’am! I mean…Miss…Mrs….”

“Anya will do,” she said, rescuing him. “And before tonight is through, I promise all your questions will

be answered.” She clapped her hands smartly and said, “Let the party continue!”

***

Chapter Ten

The boys went back to their partying and Kevin sat on the lounge beside Roman. They watched three

members of the pack making love while Roman explained the differences between a regular werewolf

and a Pedigree. “Pedigrees are born by the will of Geri and Freki, the two wolf companions of the god

Odin. Pedigrees are wolves turned men, and the only werewolves who can shift painlessly into their true

forms.”

“Geri and Freki?” He’d liked history and mythology in school, but he wasn’t familiar with the name.

“In Norse mythology, they were a mated pair of giant wolves who roamed the fields with Odin, greedy to

consume the corpses of great warriors who have fallen in battle. Odin, unwilling to deny them anything,

let his two companions feed on them. Sometimes they even hunted great men down. But after a thousand

years, the spirits of those warriors began moving within the wolves until they were finally transformed

into humans. Those born of Geri and Freki’s bloodline have been werewolves ever since. Or…that’s the

story, in any event.”

“It’s gruesome, but interesting,” Kevin admitted. “So this is like some kind of curse?”

“Only if you allow it to be,” Roman said, smirking above the rim of his cocktail glass. “So long as you do

not mate with humans, you will never be truly cursed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever been with a human, Golden Eyes?”

“Yes, plenty,” Kevin admitted. His relationships had never progressed very far, though.

“But you felt apart, yes? Like you couldn’t share your true self with your lovers.”

Kevin squirmed uncomfortably.

“It is the Curse of Geri and Freki. They became human on the outside but remained wolves within. You

may lie with a human, but you cannot be one, and your human lover can never really know you. Even

together you are alone. Alone, you will always and forever seek others of your own kind. Only those of

your kind can truly know who you are.”

Kevin thought of the intimacy he and Roman had shared, like nothing he had ever known before. He

swallowed nervously, shifted in his seat. One of the pack members was straddling another lying on his

back on the floor. He guided his swollen dick into his pack mate’s mouth while a third member came up

behind him and gripped him at the hips so he could enter him from behind. Within moments all three of the

men were growling and bucking against one another.

It took Kevin a moment to remember what he’d been about to ask. “I can never be with a human?”

“Not unless you enjoy living your life in a cage, which is what the ultimate outcome will be if you ever

share your secret with a human.”

“How do you know all this?”

Roman’s face sharpened. “Because I’ve had human lovers who put me in cages.”

Shit. “How do we…? I mean, how do I deal with something like that?”

“Be with your own kind. Other Pedigrees. Or, barring that, make companions for yourself. Werewolf

betas. They aren’t as powerful as Pedigrees, but they are fun.”

Kevin watched the three “companions” on the floor. “How many others here are Pedigrees?”

“Only Anya and I,” Roman said, sipping his drink. “And you, of course.”

“So that means…”

“Yes, all the boys here were bitten. All are betas. All are my or Anya’s get.”

The three pack members moaned loudly as they worked each other up to climax. Kevin swallowed down

the remaining wine in the glass that Roman had given him and set the glass down with shaking fingers.

“What is your relationship to Anya? Are you two…married or something?”

Roman pursed his lips. “We have a mating arrangement.” The beautiful, longhaired alpha looked him

over, completely ignoring the boys roughly sexing each other at his feet. “Anya chose me as her mate

because she feared I was the last Pedigree on earth—at least, until we found you. We thought I was the

only one who could give her a Pedigree pup.”

“It sounds like a marriage.”

“We are not what the humans would call lovers, or even exclusive. It is more of a contractual agreement. I

do my proper duty by Anya and she gives me free rein to take as many male companions as I like.” Roman

brushed away a long lock of hair that had fallen across his face. Kevin wanted to touch it, feel its

silkiness in his fingers. “Together, we built this pack as a way to satisfy both our desires. It’s worked out

well for us for the past hundred years.”

Obviously not that well, Kevin thought, seeing how there were no other Pedigree pups in the pack, though

he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “You mean, she doesn’t mind you…?” Kevin indicated the

couple on the floor. The third member of the group had abandoned his lovers to creep up to Kevin and

crawl between his legs.

“Exclusivity is a human concept,” Roman explained. “We are not naturally monogamous creatures, even

for wolves. Our hunger for sex and companionship is too great to be satisfied by any one person.”

The beta werewolf was red-haired like Kevin and model-handsome with intense aquamarine eyes that

shivered into yellow and back again. Kevin sat mesmerized while the werewolf urged his legs further

apart and began scenting his suddenly tight crotch. The sensation made Kevin moan softly as he set his

hand on the beta’s softly curling hair.

“Jonah likes you,” Roman said, a completely unnecessary statement, seeing how Jonah had begun licking

him avidly through his jeans, wetting the denim with his hot, quick tongue.

Kevin writhed at the sensation and leaned back in his seat. He tried to tell himself this wasn’t happening,

that this world couldn’t be real, wolves who were men, and men who were so fucking beautiful it was

criminal, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. It was real. It was divine. It made

him feel warm and wanton and wild to sit here and have this lovely young man lapping at his cock through

his pants.

“He can smell that you’re excited…and a Pedigree,” Roman explained with a smirk. “That means you’ll

likely be an alpha someday. Your scent makes the lesser werewolves want to submit and please you.

Enjoy it, Golden Eyes.”

He watched the other betas in the room, their attention riveted to him and Jonah—all except Fenrir, who

sat fully clothed on the opposite side of the room, watching him. He looked less than impressed by the

display.

Jonah had gotten Kevin’s jeans open and was busily nosing under his stiff cock, licking slowly and

thoroughly at his balls, his long, talented tongue caressing them. The more he licked, the stiffer Kevin

became and the more he ached for release. He’d never been so horny or so easily aroused in his life. It

was like the wolf inside him was as starved for sex and companionship as it was for meat.

And why not? The wolf had been alone all its life. Now, finally, the wolf had come home. The wolf had

pack.

Jonah took each of his testes in his mouth, gently drawing them away from his body and sucking upon them

before moving to his rigid cock. He lapped hungrily at the precum pouring from the firm, meaty head, then

worked his mouth up and down the shaft, growling faintly at the back of his throat. The vibration of noise

stiffened Kevin’s back, made him arch up and up into Jonah’s sweet mouth even as he clawed at the

cushions of the settee. His fingernails easily sliced the butter-soft leather.

Jonah smiled up at him before letting him go. “You taste good, Golden Eyes,” Jonah said, and Kevin tried

to correct him, tried to explain that his name was Kevin, not Golden Eyes, but Jonah had started licking

along his perineum, sucking at his asshole, and when Jonah finally pierced him with two fingers, making a

delightful come-hither gesture and stroking the inside of his body, Kevin had to bite back the need to

scream.

What came out instead was a whimper, then a yelp. The others were watching him, including Roman, but

he didn’t care. The need to be inside Jonah—anyone—was overwhelming, all there was in the world.

When Jonah finally turned and bowed his chest to the floor, giving Kevin his ass, Kevin was barely aware

of what was happening, his need to fuck someone was so great. Growling faintly himself, he ripped at his

shirt and jeans and got down on the floor on all fours. He nuzzled the back of Jonah’s neck, spread his

legs.

Jonah wriggled, challenging Kevin. Kevin bit down on Jonah’s shoulder and penetrated him fast and hard,

a growl lodged deep in his throat. Jonah whined submissively and lowered his head. Kevin humped his

ass, enjoying the power he had over the beta. He’d always like a little rough sex, and being with another

werewolf meant he didn’t have to hold back. He tried to delay his climax, to make the moment last, but the

wolf wanted its due. It wanted to be off the leash tonight. Kevin let the wolf take him.

Jonah struggled beneath him. Kevin held Jonah down and slammed his swollen, eager prick home,

shivered all over, and came with a cry, shooting his load deep inside Jonah’s ass. After he pulled out,

Jonah rolled over on the floor, moaning and writhing with pleasure. Kevin rubbed his soft cock against

the man, smearing his scent and come all over his lower belly and genitals until Jonah whimpered and his

eyes fluttered with satisfaction.

“Never doubt that you aren’t a Pedigree,” Roman said. His voice was a low, hoarse growl, like an animal

speaking. Seconds later, Kevin felt Roman’s powerfully muscled arm looping around his middle, pulling

him off Jonah and back against the naked, sculpted plains of his chest and abs. Roman’s stiff cock stabbed

him between the legs.

Kevin growled, tried to throw Roman off. He wanted Jonah, wanted to fuck the beta until he couldn’t

anymore, but Roman was stronger than he and held him easily, bending him at the waist. He nipped

Kevin’s ear, whispered, “You are beautiful, Golden Eyes, but I am alpha here. Never forget that.”

Roman bucked against him, sliding his slippery cock between Kevin’s balls. He wetted Kevin with his

precum. Kevin tried to move, but he found Roman’s grip too strong to break. He struggled, but like Jonah,

it was all in vain; he whimpered as he struggled against Roman’s iron hold. Roman bit the back of his

neck until he stiffened and stop fighting. He liked the idea of Roman dominating him, fucking him like

some submissive. It filled a primal need in him that he’d never felt before.

Roman forced Kevin to bow submissively, his ass in the air as he presented himself. Kevin groaned as

Roman slammed his cock home and started sexing him roughly, his other hand going to Kevin’s cock and

balls, snagging them in an iron grip and holding off Kevin’s release while he bucked wildly inside him,

taking his pleasure first. Kevin instinctively knew this was about more than sex, more than simple

pleasure; Roman was dominating him, making him part of the pack, but also putting him in his place, both

physically and metaphorically.

Soon they were both grunting and sweating, grinding together. The sound of Roman’s balls slapping

against Kevin’s ass echoed around the room. Roman growled out a warning as he drove himself ever

deeper. Kevin lowered his head and took his fucking wordlessly and with as much dignity as he could

muster.

Roman twitched inside him and came hard, filling him. He pulled out and jetted more pearly come against

Kevin’s back and ass, marking him. Only then did he let Kevin come lunging into his hands. Spent and

exhausted, they collapsed together in the middle of the room. Roman kissed the wound in the back of

Kevin’s neck and whispered hoarsely, “Welcome to the pack, Golden Eyes. From this day forward, you

belong to us.”

***

Chapter Eleven

The following week was little more than a hectic blur to Kevin. It was late June, and the local colleges

were letting out for the summer. The Barracuda was filled to the rafters with horny young guys looking for

pickups or to make trouble. Kevin broke up a fight on Monday night, then on Wednesday an irate wife

showed up, looking for her husband and brandishing a gun. Kevin was able to disarm her easily enough,

but one of the cops on the scene pulled some ecstasy off a co-ed, which nearly shut down the whole club.

Jolene was livid the rest of the week and taking her frustrations out on any employee unwise enough to

cross her.

When Hannah dropped by for a beer that Friday night, she said, “I ran into Allison earlier. She looked fit

to be tied.”

“It’s been a rough week. Jolene’s been hounding the hell out of us,” Kevin said while he mixed four

cocktails at once—a challenge, even for him, not that it bothered him. He liked having his skills put to the

test.

“And yet you seem unflappable,” she commented with a big grin on her face.

Kevin couldn’t help but bite back a smile. “That’s me. Unflappable.”

“So what’s his name, big bro?”

“Jesus, you’re as bad as Jolene. Can’t a guy just be in a good mood for a change?”

“Uh-huh.” Hannah took a big gulp of beer, giving herself a foamy mustache that she quickly licked away.

Then she leaned forward to run her fingers over his face, detecting his smile. “You’re not fooling anyone.

Is he cute?”

Kevin decided to fess up. “Yes.”

“Did you ask if he’s married? Have you checked to make certain he’s really gay and not a raging

psycho?”

“He’s not married. He really is gay. And I don’t think he’s a psycho, no. He’s also waiting for me at the

end of the bar.”

“I’ll let you go, then.”

“Thanks, Hannah Banana.”

“But keep me posted!”

Kevin laughed, quickly mixed a Manhattan for Roman, two cherries, and moved to the end of the bar

where his lover waited.

“Pretty girl,” Roman said.

“She’s my sister,” Kevin stated a little too stiffly. “I take care of her and she’s under my protection.”

“Don’t get your ruff up, Golden Eyes,” Roman said. “I have no interest in your human sister.”

“That’s good to know, since I have no interest in you taking any interest in Hannah.”

Roman arched an eyebrow. “Bit testy, yes?”

He set the drink down. “Just don’t like my family messed with.”

“Understandable,” Roman said, taking Kevin’s hand and bringing his knuckles briefly to his lips. It was a

decidedly old-fashioned gesture, and it reminded Kevin of how old Roman really was. He thought again

of those old pictures on the walls of his mansion. “I keep a cabin in the Poconos, and the pack and I are

arranging a hunt this weekend. Care to join us?”

The idea excited him, but then a hundred werewolf movies flashed through his brain. “What kind of hunt,

exactly? I mean, you don’t go after…?”

“Elk. Though a few more ambitious members of my pack have been known to hunt bear or the occasional

moose.”

“No humans?” Kevin half-joked.

But Roman’s eyes were deadly serious. “That would be against pack ordinance. We never hunt human

beings. It would be petty, foolish, and potentially dangerous on our part. We could easily expose our

secret to human beings.”

That brought Kevin some relief, though he didn’t know if he was exactly ready to take on a bear or moose

yet. “It sounds fun.” It would be good to get away from the city after this crazy week, spend some time

with his new pack mates and learn what it meant to be a Pedigree werewolf. “I assume plenty of food and

sex will follow.”

“Where we go, food and sex always follows.” Roman smirked, kissing his hand again.

***

Chapter Twelve

Roman said the cabin was one of his holdings, but Kevin wasn’t prepared for it when he saw it. Their

small caravan of Jeeps and Range Rovers turned a final bend in the snaky mountain road, and the lodge

became visible over a rise of tall pine trees. He expected a hunting cabin not unlike Jolene’s, but as

Roman drove his Hummer up the final stretch of gravel, Kevin in the passenger seat and the other pack

members following in vehicles a few feet behind, Kevin spotted what looked like one of the many posh

new luxury lodges that dotted the landscape in this part of the Poconos.

The structure was huge and artistically rustic, geometrically designed to resemble a Swiss chalet, though

obviously new. It could easily accommodate the thirteen members of the pack and then some. Kevin shook

his head, realizing he would never get used to this fancy new lifestyle of city mansions and country

lodges. It all felt like a dream, somehow.

The boys got out of the half dozen vehicles parked on the white gravel, laughing and calling to each other,

pushing and shoving, ripping their T-shirts over their heads, more than ready for the first run of the

weekend. Kevin got out and was immediately surrounded by Roman and Anya. Roman was pulling his tie

off. Anya touched Kevin’s arm briefly. “We’ll settle in later. The pack is restless. Can you feel it,

Kevin?”

“Yeah,” he said. Nervous energy surrounded the small group of naked men as they, one by one, went

down on all fours and began shifting into their wolf forms. He noticed they did it differently than he. For

Kevin, Roman and Anya, the shift was fluid, a part of their genetic makeup. They had been born

werewolves, natural shapeshifters. But the betas were different, more like the werewolves that Kevin had

seen in movies, and he flinched at the sight. Their muscles spasmed and their bones broke and re-mended

as they assumed canine form, sleek, shining fur sprouting from every pore of their bodies, long, bloodstreaked

claws replacing fingernails, and long muzzles full of razor-sharp teeth ripping through their oncehandsome

faces. They grunted and snarled as the shift made their bodies twist in unnatural ways and

reassemble themselves into a form he knew all too well.

Soon Kevin, Roman and Anya stood among a dozen nervously pacing wolves, heads low in submission

and big, triangular ears laid flat, their huge, muscular bodies trembling with hunger and anticipation and

foaming drool pouring from the corners of their mouths. A few snapped at each other as their bloodlust

got the best of them.

Roman turned to Kevin and said, “After you.”

Excitement and the feel of pack—of family—made Kevin forget all about being naked in front of all these

men. He quickly undressed and shifted fluidly into his wolf form. He was slightly larger than the betas,

and his fur was a deep, rich auburn color. Roman and Anya were the last to shift, Roman into the black

wolf with sun-bright yellow eyes that he remembered from his last visit to these mountains and Anya into

a huge, all-white wolf. Both raced up to him and rubbed their sides against him and licked at his face and

mouth. He licked them in return, licked inside Roman’s and Anya’s mouths as a way of acknowledging

them as his alphas, than the whole pack took off running into the forest as if a secret signal had been given.

Roman took the lead and Anya brought up the rear. Kevin chose a place near the edges of the pack, not too

close to any one of the wolves as he wasn’t sure which one was Fenrir and didn’t want to do something

that might piss off the jealous beta. A wolf with reddish fur flanked him on one side and he felt a twinge

of worry before recognizing the wolf’s scent as Jonah. Jonah barked encouragingly at him and Kevin

answered happily, making a point of sticking close. At least he had one other wolf, beside Roman, on his

side.

The pack cut through the forest like a knife, barking and yipping their happiness. They bounded over

deadfalls, zipped across shallow creeks, and raced over the otherwise impenetrable mountain terrain.

Kevin could smell no trace of humans—the forest surrounding the lodge was too pitted with cliffs,

dangerous caverns, deadfalls, rocky inclines and thick, unmanageable forest. There was no way hunters,

hikers or anyone on two legs could forge trails in such inhospitable land. Roman yipped at the pack,

leading them on and telling them in the most primitive way possible that they should follow him, that he

would protect them, lead them, provide for them.

Kevin had never been happier in his entire life. The scent of earth, sky and pack filled his senses to

overflowing. He could smell a hundred different animals, a thousand different tracks, and were he alone,

he might have tarried over them, but he was with his pack, and his pack led him on. He barked happily,

enjoying the closeness and company of the others, his family.

It wasn’t long before he realized that Roman was following one scent in particular. Soon, the pack sprang

from a cover of trees and converged on a large elk bearing a heavy, sprawling rack grazing on

wildflowers in a nearby meadow. The elk bayed and took off into a panicked, cantering run through the

trees, but the wolves easily gave chase.

Kevin snorted air in and out of his lungs as he endeavored to keep up with the others. He wasn’t used to

such exertion, but he relished the challenge. As a lone wolf, he’d only hunted small, safe prey. Squirrels

and chipmunk, the occasional opossum. This animal was huge, armed and dangerous, more than anything

he would ever feel comfortable bringing down himself, but the pack was confident. Roman was confident.

And together they made short work of it.

Roman reached it first, leaping upon its hindquarters and biting down, hobbling it. The elk screamed, but

somehow managed to twist loose in a spray of blood and fur and veer off into a dark, tangled copse of

trees. Roman landed gracefully, never losing sight of it. He barked sharply and raced off at an angle to the

trees. A signal of some kind had been given, one Kevin didn’t quite understand. One half of the pack

followed him while Anya took the lead on the other half and started a little slower through the foliage, hot

on the trail of the wounded elk bleeding all over the forest floor.

They were planning on cutting off its escape routes, boxing it in, he realized. Kevin stopped on the

periphery of the trees, trying to decide whom to follow, Roman or Anya. His first instinct was to follow

Roman, but he thought that Anya and her small army of beta werewolves might need his help as well. But

before he could make the decision, a huge wolf came out of nowhere and leaped upon him, its jaws

slashing unexpectedly at his side. Kevin yelped in surprise and skirted the attacking wolf, receiving only

one long gouge across his ribs by way of the wolf’s massive claws. But the wolf wasn’t done with him,

and Kevin immediately spotted the danger.

The wolf was as big as he, with pale, silvery blond fur and ice blue eyes. Fenrir. It lowered its head and

gave him a feral snarl. Kevin snarled back. Snorting, the blond wolf pissed against a nearby tree and

kicked at some dirt. Kevin didn’t know how to respond and he knew his stance looked confused, weak.

Fenrir lashed out again. Kevin jumped back. He knew Roman’s lieutenant disliked him, but he had no idea

what he had done to deserve this. He didn’t know what to do, so he backed away slowly, snarling, head

low and teeth bared. He was bleeding but he didn’t yet feel the pain. He was too pumped up on adrenaline

and fear.

The wolf took a step toward him, ears pricked forward in an offensive gesture, lips stretched back in

what was most definitely a diabolical human grin. He snarled a warning, a low, dangerous belly growl

that clearly meant you’re dead meat. Kevin barked and snapped at his attacker, hoping to warn him back,

to frighten him, but it was obvious that Fenrir was sensing his lack of confidence and wasn’t impressed.

He just made a low huffing noise that almost sounded like wolf laughter.

Fenrir was challenging him. What was he going to do? Fight Fenrir? He’d never fought a werewolf

before. His first thought was to shift back to human and pick up a weapon—a long stick or big stone—but

he wasn’t sure that Fenrir wouldn’t leap upon his more vulnerable human body. Run, he thought. You have

to run! Before Fenrir could attack again, he acted upon the impulse and took off running into the woods.

He could hear the others not far off. Fenrir gave chase, but though they were about the same size, Fenrir

was more muscular, and a little heavier than Kevin. Kevin managed to stay safely ahead of the other wolf

until they both broke out into a clearing.

The pack had the elk surrounded. Wounded, it was rushing them, head low and antlers pointing like

swords at its hunters as each of the wolves tried to get close enough to kill it. Kevin checked behind him.

Fenrir was glaring at him from the safety of the woods. He knew Fenrir wouldn’t do anything so stupid as

to attack him in full sight of the others, but he also knew he had to prove himself to Fenrir. He had to show

the other werewolf that he was no pushover. Gaining allies wouldn’t hurt, either. Otherwise, Fenrir

would just bully him from this day forward.

Kevin turned to observe the wounded elk. It was slowly tiring, its breath coming in labored gasps. It was

bleeding all over the place. A part of Kevin felt a pang of pity and regret; it was a beautiful animal, and

he liked animals very much, but he knew what needed to be done. He knew what the pack needed—his

family. Death now would be a mercy.

Taking a running leap, Kevin lunged at the elk when it turned its head away from him, snapping his teeth

around its windpipe. It was like trying to take down a mountain, and he wasn’t sure how he would hold on

as the elk bucked and fought him to its last breath, but somehow he managed it. The animal brayed and

tossed its head to dislodge him, but he hung on. For the pack. For his family. He crunched vertebrae,

managing to break its neck instantly. The elk went down, dead, and the others moved in to dismember it.

Roman snarled, warning the others back. As the other wolves cringed and whined, he turned to Kevin and

licked the blood off Kevin’s muzzle. Kevin stood over the carcass, admiring his work but also giving

thanks to the forest and the elk for its meat. Roman ripped off a chunk of the hindquarters and offered it to

Kevin as a trophy before tearing off a piece of meat for himself and Anya. After that, the others were

allowed to feed.

The pack consumed the elk, meat, fur, bones and all. Nothing of the animal remained but its antlers to pay

testament to how it had died. Their bellies full, and their spirits full of a languid contentment, Roman

made love to Kevin for the entertainment of the pack—first as wolves, then as men. The others looked on,

grunting and rolling in the dirt and leaf litter, or playing or mating amongst themselves. Only Fenrir

remained apart, watching him from the safety of the trees, his eyes simmering with a dark promise of

trouble to come.

***

Chapter Thirteen

“Sugar, did you see anything strange at the cabin this weekend?” Jolene asked the following Monday. She

was several hours late, so Kevin had opened the Barracuda without her.

He stood up from the dishwasher, his arms full of glasses, and looked at her standing in the doorway. The

question had thrown him off guard and for a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t actually spent

any amount of time at Jolene’s cabin this past weekend. After the hunt, he and the pack had retired to

Roman’s lodge. They’d spent the rest of the weekend hunting, partying and making love. “I didn’t notice

anything. Why?”

“Are you certain?”

He thought about lying outright, then decided against it. He’d never been a very convincing liar. “I didn’t

stay at the cabin. I was with someone,” he said as he started stacking clean dishes. “We spent most of the

weekend either at his place, or camping. What happened at the cabin?”

She waved it away. “Nothing dramatic. Someone just painted graffiti on the door, is all.”

Kevin gritted his teeth. “Shit. Was anything taken?”

“That’s why I’m late today. I went up to check this morning, but everything looks in order. So you didn’t

see anybody suspicious creeping around?”

“No. What kind of graffiti?”

“Just one spray-painted word. Tyr. What do you think it means?”

Kevin started loading the dishwasher with the next set of dirty glasses. “I have no idea, but I’ll be happy

to look it up for you.” Jolene was less than web-savvy.

“Thanks, sugar.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran a hand through his spiky auburn hair. “And no

worries about not being there. I don’t expect you to babysit the cabin or anything. Just thought you might

have a clue as to what’s going on.”

After he got the dishwasher going, Kevin moved out of the pantry and back behind the bar. The club was

filling up fast so he knew he didn’t have much time before the evening rush. He pulled his phone out and

did a quick online search for Tyr—whatever that was. Nothing came up at first, and he thought maybe it

was gang-related, or someone who just couldn’t spell properly, but after Googling it for a few minutes, he

finally got a hit.

Tyr, it turned out, was one of the many Norse gods, a son of Odin. He was also one-handed because

during a great conflict with Fenrir, the wolf god had bitten his hand off.

***

Chapter Fourteen

By the time two a.m. rolled around and his shift ended, Kevin was tired, wired and feeling on edge. He’d

mixed up more than a few drink orders that night, and he’d managed to break a whole tray of glasses,