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me, tilting his head down as he took me in. “She’ll entertain the boys for a time.”

Riggs made a low growling sound and I thought I saw him grow. It was like an optical illusion, but it seemed like his shoulders broadened and his legs got thicker. Maybe they did. I was starting to learn that my definition of “impossible” was up for debate in this new world I’d been dragged into. He was standing in front of me with one hand on my side, protectively pushing me behind him.

“Ah,” Pax said. “Of course. The pup of a vamp whore goes back to the fucking bloodsucker teet to get his cock wet. Doesn’t he? And you’ve forgiven that traitor bitch sister of yours for killing her wolf to ride some sunless cock?”

Jesus, I thought. Was there a more vulgar way imaginable to put it?

Kyla was stiff beside me. I could sense she was furious, but she was doing a good job holding it in.

“I’m not here to get your approval for my choices, Pax,” Riggs said. “This is bigger than you, me, or Kyla.”

Pax shook his head and started pacing menacingly. He kept his face turned toward Riggs, looking him up and down. “I used to admire you. The Alpha who came from nothing. Less than nothing. You fucking clawed your way to the top with nothing but determination and grit. I admired that. A werewolf who wasn’t afraid to take the universe by the balls and bite down until he got what he wanted. Of course, I thought you were a piece of shit, but that’s besides the point. And now look at you.” He spat on the ground, then spoke over his shoulder. “Get the truck. Take them to the church.”

Several more werewolves appeared out of the tall grass. Within a heartbeat, we were surrounded and being grabbed.

“Let it happen,” Riggs said to me. “I knew this might come.”

I relaxed, letting the big woman who was reaching for my wrists clutch them behind my back and start prodding me into the town. Kyla ignored Riggs’ advice, head butting the first werewolf who came for her. Her resistance earned her a fierce punch in the stomach that doubled her over.

Riggs went tense, probably fighting every impulse in his thick-headed brain not to rage out and get us all killed for that.

Gravy Boat emerged from the truck, arching his wrinkled back and hissing at the werewolves taking us.

Pax curled his lip. “What the fuck is that?”

“He’s with us,” Riggs said.

Pax sneered, but let Gravy Boat walk beside us into the village.

“You’re sure this was part of the plan?” I whispered to Riggs.

“Of course,” he said. “More or less,” he added a moment later with a notable dip in confidence.

40

Riggs

We sat in an old ice cream parlor called Curly’s while we waited for Pax to gather the Pack Elders. The place was set up to look like a picture of the 80s, complete with black and white checkered flooring and retro neon signs all over the walls for cream swirls, face freezers, and nut blasters.

Sylvie was quiet when we were first told to sit in a corner booth and our guards dispersed around the restaurant, watching us with folded arms. Kyla wore an annoyed expression that didn’t waver. I thought she was probably trying to figure out which one she would kill first if this got violent, and I grudgingly had to respect that. Vamp or not, she was still the old Kyla I’d grown up with. She’d been innocent once, but little by little, she’d turned into a certifiable badass who wasn’t afraid to defend herself.

“Are they going to give us ice cream?” Sylvie asked. “Like… why here?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said. “But werewolves have a tendency for weirdness. None of us want to be anything like vampires, which means we sometimes go to ridiculous lengths to take the formality out of the way we live. Bars, restaurants, and all that kind of shit? It’s basically where all the important werewolf affairs are handled.”

“You’re right,” Sylvie said. “That is weird.”

When Pax returned, he was flanked by Aranelle and Rourk. Aranelle was tall, wiry, and had braided black hair. She always looked like she was pissed off but was otherwise pretty enough.

Rourk was thick muscled with salt and pepper hair. He had a distinctive scar that ran from his scalp, across his eye, over his nose, and finally ended at the corner of his mouth, giving it a permanent, slightly upturned look. I still remembered the day I’d given him that scar.

Aranelle walked straight up to the table and slapped me hard across the face. I saw it coming, but let it happen. Even defending myself at this particular moment could be seen as an act of aggression, and I’d do anything to stop this from turning into a brawl. Vampire or not, Sylvie wouldn’t make it out of something like that in one piece.

“Bastard,” Aranelle spat. “Fucking bastard.”

Sylvie was giving me a silent eyebrow raise. I practically read the question on her mind. Ex girlfriend? I felt a touch of amusement at the idea of her being jealous. She didn’t strike me as the type, but I supposed I hadn’t really exposed her to any need so far.

“Nice to see you too, Aranelle.”

Rourk was a little more cool tempered than Aranelle. He settled for a calm middle finger, which he tucked back into his folded arms once I’d seen it and nodded my acknowledgment.

I could tell Sylvie wanted to ask questions, but she was wisely quiet, letting things play out. Thankfully, the punch to the stomach seemed to have sapped some of the spunk from Kyla, which would make this go more smoothly.

“You have five minutes,” Pax said. “And that’s only to honor who you used to be. You’re lucky I didn’t tear you apart the moment you were fucking crazy enough to show your face here again.”

I dove into the shortest, most concise version of

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