Chapter Three
“You gonna go after him?”
Santiago arched a brow. “That was one hell of a show you put on, by the way.”
“No shit.”
Matias was still staring at the entrance, trying to make sense of it all. Elijah had piqued his interest the moment he’d entered the tavern, looking like a scared little bunny walking into a den of wolves.
Matias had known full well who’d slapped the counter, but he’d already made up his mind to take the human to his bed even before Elijah had parked his cute ass on a stool. Big blue eyes, sandy-blond hair, and lips made for sin.
The seduction had been part of Matias’s plan. Make the male aware he was interested in taking things further. The human had been playing with a dominant male, an alpha whose wolf had been triggered the moment they’d touched.
After the way Elijah had jealously growled his claim, he needed to consider himself lucky Matias hadn’t bent him over the pool table and fucked his brains out.
But Matias didn’t chase. So why was he heading for the door?
“Call me if you need backup,”
Santiago hollered, amusement in his voice.
Matias flipped him off over his shoulder. It wasn’t the flirting or the way Elijah had claimed him with that little growl that had Matias heading to his motorcycle.
One, Elijah was drunk, and Matias wanted to make sure he wasn’t trying to get behind the wheel. But the real reason was the look of fear in his eyes when he’d glanced at his phone earlier. How lost and vulnerable he’d appeared. Someone had put that look in his eyes, and Matias just wanted to make sure—
He stopped when he spotted Elijah leaning his back against the building, staring up at the night sky. Half of his face was concealed by shadows, but even from where Matias stood, he could see Elijah’s eyes shining with tears.
Moving slowly so he wouldn’t startle the guy, Matias settled next to him, stretching his legs out to seem smaller, less threatening. “Your pool game wasn’t that bad, conejito .”
Elijah huffed a small laugh and then sniffed, turning to wipe at his eyes. “Stalking me now?”
You triggered my wolf, and now it has you in its sights.
“Call it concern since you left my establishment three sheets to the wind.”
Matias gently tapped their arms together. “You’re not planning on driving, are you?”
“I walked.”
He sniffed again, cleared his throat, then folded his arms. A defensive pose. “I don’t live far from here.”
“It’s still dangerous for someone in your condition to walk home in the dark.”
The human had no idea of the secret war waging right under his nose. Whether Elijah was involved with Matias’s pack or not, if his enemies saw Elijah leaving the tavern, they wouldn’t hesitate to snatch the human to find out if he held any real value to one of Matias’s pack members.
Elijah’s shrugged but refused to look at him. Matias wasn’t used to being ignored and had to stop himself from demanding respect. Elijah wasn’t a pack member, and nervous, so Matias let it slide. “I’ve done it a few times before.”
Not on my watch.
“What made you come by tonight?”
A slight breeze ruffled his hair, and Matias stopped himself from reaching out to tuck a few stray strands behind the man’s ear. The male didn’t belong to him, and touching him was too much of a temptation. Elijah held his interest a little too strongly, way past simple flirting and fucking. Matias couldn’t pin down the reason, but it was enough to make him chase after Elijah.
Something he’d never done before.
“Percy.”
Elijah gazed at the parked cars, pressing his hands behind his back. “He said Santiago invited him, and he wanted me to come with him.”
Most men of Elijah’s build steered clear of a biker tavern. That wasn’t what they were, but the impression they’d given off over the years. It kept innocents from wandering inside and possibly getting caught up in their war with the pack of hyenas trying to take over Blackthorn. Too many had been hurt already, drawing the attention of local law enforcement who had made it their mission to make Matias’s life, and those of his pack members, miserable.
Or so they thought. Matias would like to see the day a human intimidated him. It wasn’t even the fact they were human. A few were corrupt, and those few threw their weight around, thinking their badge gave them the power to do whatever they wanted without fear of repercussion. Sheriff Mahoney was close to retirement, exerting little to no effort to control his wayward sheep.
They had no fucking clue Matias had ordered his pack not to lay a hand on them. The pack didn’t need the heat. But if Matias ever rescinded that order, the sheriff would need to replace a few “missing” deputies.
But there were some decent men, like Deputies Folger and Hagger.
“I’m gonna head home.”
Elijah pushed away from the wall, and Matias caught his arm before the male teetered over. Elijah tilted left, making Matias pull him close before gravity finished taking over.
“Now I see what you were doing.”
He gazed down at Elijah, a grin pulling at his lips when he saw the human staring wide-eyed at him. Like a little bunny facing the big, bad wolf. “You were using the wall as a prop.”
Elijah’s body sank into his, soft and warm, his weight barely noticeable, his breath catching with each inhale. The hum of passing cars, the sharp roar of a motorcycle revving, and the rhythmic pulse of music from inside the building faded into oblivion.
His wolf was zeroed in on Elijah for obvious reasons, yet all Matias saw was a lost, vulnerable male trying desperately to hide his pain.
“Who has hurt you, conejito ?”
he murmured. “Who do you fear?”
“I don’t…”
Elijah’s eyes fluttered closed. “Don’t feel so good.”
“Shit!”
Matias spun him and bent him over just in time. Elijah spewed his guts out on the ground and wall, coughing, gripping Matias’s arm like he was afraid he would fall over if he let go. Matias knew he would. Elijah was swaying heavily, nearly losing his footing. “I can’t believe you’re unable to handle some fucking froufrou drink.”
“It was the bourbon!”
Elijah argued, his fingers a death grip on Matias’s arm.
“You downed that an hour ago,”
Matias countered, holding on to him while trying not to get any spew on himself.
Making a Cosmopolitan was easy, but he’d never been tempted to try one. Matias savored the finer things, like aged brandy and a good cigar, tailor-made suits and expensive cars.
Yet, instead of getting Elijah into his bed, like he’d planned, somehow, he found himself in a parking lot, hanging onto a wasted twink who couldn’t hold what amounted to spiked fruit punch to save his life. It was beyond him why he was dealing with this drunken disaster. Esto era irreal. This was unreal.
“Feel better?”
“I forgot to eat before I started drinking.”
Elijah leaned an arm against the wall, resting his forehead on it. “It’s so much worse when you’re queasy and hungry.”
“You should’ve said something. I would’ve had the kitchen prepare a meal for you.”
Matias drew closer, disturbed by the fact he couldn’t keep his distance from the human.
“I really need to lie down.”
Elijah groaned, clutching his stomach.
“ Vienes a mi taberna y te vas con hambre. Eso es un insulto a mi orgullo, conejito,”
Matias said heatedly. You come to my tavern and leave hungry. That’s an insult to my pride, little bunny.
“Please,”
Elijah whimpered. “I can’t understand you!”
Grunting, Matias slid his arm around him, leading him toward the rear door. There were some rooms at the back of the tavern, reserved for pack members only, but tonight would be an exception. “You do not come to my place hungry and not ask for food, understood?”
“Stop being so damn bossy,”
Elijah grumbled.
Matias held on to him with one arm, using the other to unlock and open the door. Cool air struck them, relieving some of the humidity clinging to his skin.
“That feels so good,”
Elijah groaned, tilting forward, his arms dangling.
Then he went limp, dangling over the arm Matias had around his waist. Luckily, he had a strong grip on Elijah, or his dead weight would’ve caused Matias to drop him. Unreal. The guy had powered down mid-complaint. “Did you just pass out?”
Sighing, he lifted the human into his arms and carried him to one of the rooms. Diablo was lying on the bed, propped against the headboard, watching TV.
“Out.”
He got up, his brows rising. “Isn’t that—”
“Out!”
Matias was in no mood for small talk, bothered by the fact he was going out of his way for some short shit who meant nothing to him.
As Diablo closed the door behind him, Matias lay Elijah down, removing his shoes before placing the blanket over him.
Then he put some space between them, leaning against the wall as he studied the human. His wolf was cagey, pacing and snarling. It was a part of him, part of his DNA, his needs overriding Matias’s own at times. It was acting feral where Elijah was concerned.
Was his wolf seeing something he wasn’t? Was it displaying its true feelings, while Matias was denying what he felt toward Elijah? Maybe because Matias knew the true danger of involving the human in his life.
A life filled with violence and bloodshed. Elijah didn’t belong in his world. Yet, Matias couldn’t deny he was already invested, acting out of character, chasing after and caring for a drunken human.
Him. Matias Salvador. Alpha of the Salvador pack. Deadly. Unforgiving. Capable and willing to make harsh decisions to keep his pack safe.
Invested or not, Elijah could not stay. As soon as he sobered, Matias would send him on his way.
* * * *
“I think Boss is finally falling.”
Diablo glanced over his shoulder at the hallway. He’d never seen Matias act that way toward someone before, let alone a human. Soft and caring, like the twink was something precious. He thought Matias was going to swipe his head clean off his shoulders.
“We all get bitten by the lust bug,”
Santiago replied, his gaze sliding to Percy, who sat at the bar, staring at the countertop like it held all of life’s secrets. Matias wasn’t the only one feeling the “bug”
around here.
“You ready?”
Diablo moved toward the entrance to the tavern. If he was going to be up and out of bed, he might as well move their plans up.
“Not yet.”
Santiago jerked his chin toward Percy. “Gotta get someone home first.”
“I’ll meet you at your house.”
Diablo headed out, passing pack members on his way to his hog. The night was hot as hell, made worse by the fact a wolf’s body temperatures ran a little higher than humans.
He wanted to ditch his leather but didn’t want to end up like Miguel. One side of his body shredded from road rash.
Diablo took off, riding through town on his way to Santiago’s when the glow of motorcycle headlights illuminated the night, casting shadows in the darkness. The figures of three men on their bikes could be seen, their lower faces covered with bandanas. This could not be good.
He tried to go faster, but they blocked him. If he didn’t want to lay his bike down, he needed to come up with another plan.
There was no doubt in his mind he was dealing with hyenas. Cowards had waited to catch a Salvador pack member alone, but they were three deep.
The rider directly in front of him slowed, forcing Diablo to do the same. To hell with it. If they wanted a beatdown, who was Diablo to deny them? He could use the workout.
The three—still keeping him boxed in—guided him toward a turnoff. A small picnic area with three parking slots, two picnic tables, a grill, and single bathroom structure.
Oh, they had this all planned out. Diablo wasn’t his birth name. It had been rightfully earned. And these clowns thought they were about to get the jump on him by herding him like some damn sheep to slaughter?
He pulled to a stop and parked, using his boot to toss down his kickstand.
Hopefully the five minutes he spared to clock these fools didn’t delay him from meeting up with Santiago. If Diablo took too long, Santiago’s smitten ass would blow him off to babysit Percy while the twink slept off his Cosmos-induced coma.
Diablo shook his head as he dismounted then slid off his heavy leather and rolled his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with, ladies. I got shit to do.”
He felt his eyes begin to glow as his claws and canines lengthened, ready to unleash the full weight of his irritation.
Just as he took up a boxing stance, he caught a flash of metal in one guy’s hand. “A gun, really?”
A sharp sting pierced his neck. Reaching up, he yanked out something hard and cylindrical.
A tranquilizer dart.
“You bitches need drugs to take me down?”
He laughed as he tossed aside the dart. “Pathetic.”
He charged the guy to his right, his arm swinging. Claws gouged flesh, ripping through skin. Blood spurted from the wound, causing the hyena to scream as he hit the ground.
“We should’ve used a larger dose,”
one guy said with a curse.
“You should’ve just stayed home,”
Diablo snarled as three men turned into six then back to three. He shook his head, fighting hard against whatever they’d injected him with.
He tried to shift into his third form—a lycanthrope on two legs, still capable of speech but taller, more powerful, and a hella lot deadlier.
But something was interfering with his shift.
The drug.
It forced him to remain in his current form. What the ? Diablo had never heard of a drug capable of negating a shift, and it lightweight scared him. He’d never been denied access to his forms—human, wolf, or lycanthrope.
“Nah, he’s starting to feel it,”
one of them said.
The three kept multiplying, but Diablo knew it was the drug making him see double, triple, then single.
He shook his head again, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat.
If he was going down, they were going with him. He lunged at the hyena shifter ten feet in front of him, boots scraping the ground. His claws had receded against his will, but he didn’t need them to handle these pussies.
He clenched his fist, slamming it into the guy’s jaw, laughing loudly when he heard bone crunching and watched as the bastard went down.
Diablo spat on the ground. “Bring it,”
he said to the last man standing, but swayed heavily, his vision blurring.
“That’s right. Go nightie-night, big guy.”
Diablo fought against passing out long enough to memorize every detail of his face, down to the crisscrossed scar over his left eyebrow. “ Cuando el diablo descienda sobre ti, recuerda este momento, pendajo. ”
When the devil descends upon you, remember this moment, asshole.
“I have no idea what you’re saying. Just go the fuck to sleep.”
The ground sped toward Diablo as he crashed, the world around him fading.