Chapter Four
Cesar grabbed the ticket from the counter, cooking on autopilot, his thoughts still on Jamie. The human was still at the bar with Noel, Tomas watching them while orders were made.
“Anything we need to concern ourselves with?”
Matias asked as he seemed to appear out of nowhere, lightweight scaring the crap out of Cesar.
“With the food?”
He knew damn well what his alpha was talking about. Everyone had witnessed Jamie’s spiral in the bar after his dance.
Cesar had been mesmerized, his sole focus on the human. He hadn’t paid attention to the men openly lusting.
Couldn’t blame them. The way Jamie moved his body had all kinds of indecent images racing through Cesar’s mind.
Even now, thinking of some other male touching the quirky little human made Cesar’s wolf want to hunt.
He told Matias about what had gone down at the grocery and the looks Grant and Rowan had given Jamie.
“Prick isn’t gonna let it slide.”
Then he told his alpha about Jamie’s brain injury and how he said he’d sustained it.
Matias’s features darkened, a tick in his jaw.
“Got it handled?”
“Gonna try and talk Jamie into staying at my place tonight. Give the brother time to cool off.”
Neither voiced the truth. Men like Grant didn’t cool off. The anger only festered.
The oil popped and sizzled, but Cesar wasn’t paying any attention to it. Or the noise of the tavern. His thoughts went back to Jamie and the way his wolf continued to snarl.
He focused on his wolf, his lycanthrope silent. It wouldn’t interfere with the wolf’s decision, but once it was made, the lycanthrope would kill to protect el eligido.
Was his animal choosing or just being protective of the small human?
Cesar gave his chin a quick scratch, the bristle of his beard soft under his fingernails.
You know the answer, he thought.
“My wolf has chosen.”
He stood in front of the deep fryer, tongs in his grip, staring at the backsplash.
“Got this heavy feeling in my chest.”
“That would be my guess.”
Matias moved closer, his polished shoes clacking against the tiled floor.
“Your eyes are glowing, and you’re also burning the food.”
Cesar cursed, quickly removing the fries, a few falling to the floor. He’d have to change the grease, since the food would taste as bad as the burnt oil smelled.
“Go to your elegido.”
Matias flicked his hand.
“I’ll have Luca finish your orders. Your mind is on your boy.”
“Jamie,”
Cesar said, the name sounding sweeter on his lips suddenly. He was even smiling, knowing damn well he was in for the ride of his life with his bouncy squirrel.
Matias salted the fries then picked one up, taking a bite. He chewed like he lived his life. Methodically, like he was judging each bite.
“Still good.”
The alpha took the plate with him as he walked out, eating another fry.
He’d known Matias for a few years now. The brother had pulled Cesar out of a rough situation involving five cheetahs, a bottle of vodka, and enough machismo to start a fight Cesar couldn’t finish. Not on his own. He didn’t know why Matias had stopped at that shit watering hole, but whatever the reason, Matias had saved his ass that night.
About a year later, Cesar had been out back of the tavern, working on his bike, cursing seven ways from Sunday.
He couldn’t figure out what the noise his bike was making.
A moment later, Matias was out there, helping Cesar.
“Why don’t you ever talk?”
he’d asked while Matias crouched on the side of his bike, ratcheting some bolt.
“I never see you cutting loose and having fun.”
Matias had kept working, eyes focused on what he’d been doing.
“It’s my job to watch over my pack so they can strengthen their bonds.”
He’d looked up at Cesar.
“Would you rather have me partying with you or watching for threats?”
There’d been more to it. Cesar knew there was. Matias was grandson to the apex alpha, his brain built differently from others.
After that day, Cesar had never asked again.
Instead of going to Jamie, Cesar stepped outside, the alley empty except for the overflowing dumpster, trash due to be emptied tomorrow. The sun had already set, nighttime settling over the town.
Cesar took a deep breath, glancing up at the star-filled sky. Music from the tavern spilled into the alley, a guitar-heavy song. But it was muted, only growing louder whenever the front entrance opened or closed.
A few motorcycles revved then quieted the farther away they drove. Cesar couldn’t see them, but the sound was as familiar as his own breathing.
As he stood there, deep in thought—enjoying the breeze cooling off his heated skin from the kitchen—his senses prickled.
Someone else was in the alley with him. More than one person. Eyes glowed from the shadows. Three sets.
Cesar cursed under his breath. His gun was resting in the inside pocket of his leather, which was draped over one of the ten kitchen chairs. He didn’t think to bring it outside with him.
Usually didn’t need protection at Sin & Steel, the tavern doubling as the wolves’ den.
Cesar’d had it earlier when he’d been out here with Jamie but put it away once they’d gone inside.
Ever since Tomas and Noel had been shot through the bedroom window not twenty feet away from Cesar, he kept his gun on him at all times. Now he was mentally kicking himself for leaving it inside.
Three silhouettes appeared as the sound of shoes scuffed the ground. The scent of sulfur made Cesar’s nose twitch when a match was struck. The orange flare made the stranger’s features appear eerie in the darkness.
The guy lit his cigarette then tossed the match aside. He took a long drag, blowing out the smoke, dark eyes fixed on Cesar.
“Got brass balls coming near a wolf den, hijo de putas.”
Cesar felt his eyes glowing, his vision filled with an amber hue. Sharp claws unsheathed from his fingers.
“Must have a death wish, mutt.”
A muskier scent permeated the air. A power flex to let Cesar know an alpha stood before him. But which guy? They were too close together, making it impossible to tell.
Cesar’s wolf gave a low, threatening growl while, at the same time, pacing nervously. Breed was irrelevant when it came to an alpha. Only the strongest could command enough respect to lead and demand everyone else to follow.
While Cesar would chew off his own arm before he allowed this cabrón to give him orders, he couldn’t deny the power he felt emanating from the guy.
A power that crawled along Cesar’s body and made his skin crawl with unease.
“That was quick.”
Cesar glanced between them, but his gaze kept sliding to the smoker. He was tall, lean, with a head full of silken black hair and dark eyes cold enough to cause frost on a warm summer night.
“I see ya’ll found another nut job to lead a pack of pussies.”
He waved his finger back and forth.
“Which one of you girls is it?”
The hyena on the left glanced at the guy taking a drag of his smoke, confirming Cesar’s suspicions. He was too calm, giving off an aura that said he owned whatever space surrounded him.
Cesar could call for backup, could shoot Matias a quick text, but that was what this guy wanted. A show of weakness. He was testing the waters. Gathering intel on the enemy.
A slow smirk curled the guy’s lips as he blew out smoke from his mouth.
“Go ahead.”
He gestured toward the back door with the hand holding the cigarette.
“Call for them. I won’t stop you, pup.”
The motherfucker had just insulted Cesar by calling him a pup. He’d never wanted to rip someone apart this badly, to wipe off that smirk with his claws.
The hyena on the right snickered. One sharp look from his jefe made the guy’s smile vanish.
Whoever this guy was, he’d taken over the hyena pack in an impressive short amount of time.
If someone tried to replace Matias after the alpha’s death—the thought of Matias dying made Cesar nauseous—the wolf would’ve had to prove he deserved that title by fighting every last wolf in their pack.
But no one knew just how many hyenas there were. Matias had tried to keep count, but it was impossible to figure out. Dude could’ve already fought them all, or it was possible hyenas chose their alpha a different way.
Cesar didn’t know shit about their customs. Didn’t want to either.
“Is there a reason you’re here?”
Cesar asked.
A rat scurried from under the dumpster. It glanced their way then hurried off.
Cesar’s lycanthrope was demanding to be freed, but he would only let it take over if he had no other choice.
Never pull out your ace card prematurely. The sounds of pots banging and laughter floated through the back door. Luca had taken over, unaware of what was happening outside.
No one said anything, the tension thick enough to choke them. The alpha dropped his smoke and crushed it under his suede boot, his gaze darting toward the back door.
“We’ll meet again, wolf.”
He gave a swift nod, then the three strode away, the two walking slightly behind the alpha.
Shoulders tight, Cesar pulled his upper lip back. Danger was hitting from both sides. The hyenas had armed themselves with a calculating man, and there was still the threat of Grant and Rowan hanging over Jamie’s head.
Claws receding, Cesar released a hard breath watching them round the corner at the mouth of the alley. A few minutes later, the distant sound of engines snarling carried through the alley.
Rico Diego, the former alpha of the hyenas, had been a straight-up psychopath. But this new guy felt much more dangerous.
Scanning all around him, Cesar headed back inside to let Matias know there was a new, more lethal, player in town.
* * * *
Jamie had lost count of how many drinks he’d had. Enough that his face felt numb when he rubbed it. Next to him, Noel was tapping out the beat to the song playing, humming off-key.
Then he spotted it. A dartboard. Across the bar by the entrance to the pool room. He’d never played before, but how darn hard could it be?
“Ooh, Noel, look!”
He reached for Noel’s arm but missed, grabbing nothing but air. He tried again, only to graze the man’s arms with his fingertips. Giving up, Jamie simply pointed.
“Darts! Come on, please, play darts with me,”
he shouted to be heard over the loud music, noticing a few people glancing his way.
Not waiting for an answer, Jamie slipped off his stool and headed for the dartboard, but for some reason, he was moving in a zigzag pattern like his feet forgot where they were going. It felt like it took an hour just to cross the room.
Men were already playing a game, but Jamie wanted to play so badly.
“Excuse me, fellas?”
he shouted, squinting at them.
“I’m Jamie. Can I play darts with my new bestie? I promise to give the darts back when we’re done. Cesar invited me here, and I don’t know where my pookie ran off to, so I want to have some fun with Noel. Do you know who Noel is?”
Jamie turned and spotted the guy walking toward him, drink in hand.
“That’s him!” He turned back around and blinked rapidly at the men, unable to make his eyelids slow down.
“Sure,”
one of the men said, smiling down at him.
“Dartboard is all yours, Jamie.”
“How do you know my name?”
Jamie asked then swung around to find Noel behind him.
“We’re allowed to use the dartboard!”
“Dude, lower your volume,”
Noel shouted back.
“You’re louder than the music!”
“So are you!”
Jamie picked up the darts from the small table where the nice guy had left them. Why did they look like tiny missiles? “Uh, Noel?”
“Huh?”
Noel looked around like someone else had said his name.
“How do you play darts?”
He twisted one between his fingers, snickering at the weird orange plastic thingies on the end of it.
“You just throw them and try to make them stick.”
Noel set aside his drink and plucked one from Jamie’s hand. With his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, Noel threw it, only for the dart to hit the wall and fall to the floor.
“Just like that.”
Seemed simple enough. Jamie rushed over and picked up the fallen dart just as Noel threw another one, the dart hitting the wall then knocking over a nearby glass. The owner of the drink stared disbelievingly at them then walked away, muttering something about drunken twinks.
Noel stared at the guy then burst out laughing, holding his side.
“I think that was a bull’s-eye!”
“No,”
Jamie argued, shaking his head.
“That was a beer’s-eye. Don’t count because… did you know sharks can live to be like super old? I love sharks. Cesar’s like a shark. With dimples. I’m gonna kiss him.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Oh, my god, I said that out loud, didn’t I? I can’t stop talking. This is bad. I’m adorable though, right? Right!”
“Where’s your off switch?”
Noel threw another dart, this one sticking inside the board.
“You did it!”
Jamie jumped up and down as he clapped then grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself before he fell over.
“I think I need another drink.”
Noel shoved his toward Jamie.
“Just a baby sip, ’kay? I want the rest.”
There was only a sip left. With a shrug, Jamie drained the remaining rum and Coke.
“Hey!”
Noel snatched the glass, pushing one eye against the rim.
“You guzzled it all.”
“I’ll get us another one. I want one, too, because my mouth is dry.”
He opened wide. “See?”
he said, pointing to his mouth.
“See how dry it is?” Jamie hurried toward the bar, his feet resuming their zigzag pattern.
“Barkeep! Me needs two drinkies. Rum and water…or soda? Was it Coke?” He gripped the edge of the counter when he glanced at the bartender. Tall, very tall. Silky dark hair, light brown eyes, and why was the bartender wearing a suit?
Jamie threw his arms up like the cops had just ordered him to.
“I’ll take whatever you want to serve me.”
Rowan’s expression had nothing on the bartender’s.
“It’s cool. We’re cool.”
Jamie gave him a peace sign, hoping it appeased the scary-looking guy. There was literal power oozing from him.
The bartender’s expression softened.
“Two rum and Cokes, Jamie.”
“How do you know me?”
Jamie gasped.
“I was just thinking how powerful you felt, and you just proved it. You know my name and what drink I needed. Did you know Coke had actual cocaine in it when it was first invented? I wonder if my jellybean is a good kisser. His lips look soft, and god, I want to know. Have you seen my dreamboat? His name is Cesar.”
The guy chuckled as he made the drinks. Jamie couldn’t get his leg to stop bouncing. His foot was tapping the floor like a jackrabbit. He was pretty sure he could run all the way to his apartment and back to the tavern in seconds flat, or to the next town, without slowing down.
He’d never been this drunk before, and it seemed he was dialed up to eleven.
“Jamie! It’s your turn,”
Noel shouted even though he was only twenty feet away.
“I scored a hole in one!”
He grinned, giving Jamie a thumbs-up.
“I wanna score a basket!”
He hurried back to Noel and grabbed the offered dart. With his tongue sticking out, Jamie threw the dart. “Oh crud,”
he whispered when the plastic end of the dart whacked a humongous guy in the head.
“That’s Diablo,”
Noel said under his breath.
“His name means evil.”
Diablo turned slowly, eyes glowing, a snarl on his lips…until he glanced down at Jamie. He frowned and rubbed his head.
“What did I ever do to you?”
Those glowing eyes… Jamie kept trying to explain it away whenever he saw it, but this was the third time, and the sober part of his brain, wherever it was, was shouting this wasn’t an ordinary biker bar.
Jamie swallowed roughly.
“Did you know the ties on the end of bread are color coded to let you know what day of the week it was baked? Red usually means it was baked on Thursday. You look like a red kind of guy. How tall are you? God, you’re so huge! But I like my cupcake just the way he is. I really am going to kiss him.”
He turned back toward Noel.
“Do you wanna finish our game of pool?”
Noel stood there staring into his empty glass.
“Someone downed my drink,”
he whined.
“I just had a full glass, and now there’s only a dribble left.”
“You should make whoever stole it buy you another one,”
Jamie said with a nod.
“It’s only fair.”
He wandered off in search of his pumpkin, needing a kiss from his beefcake.