Page 3 of Psycho

“And if not?” Galled asked, folding his arms across the chest of his jacket, the tips of his gray beard touching the tops of his hands.

“When you don’t hear anything, that’s your fuckin’ answer,” Shadow replied. Then, he literally disappeared from sight.

“What the fuck?” Trigger asked, and I hadn’t realized he’d been standing next to me.

“Right?” I replied. “Freaky as hell.”

“We got a cager. Need us to take anyone?” I asked Viper, pointing at our Humvee once the witches seemed like they were dispersing and heading out of the park.

He shook his head. “Nah, we’re good.” He put his hand out to shake. “Thanks for the call.”

I nodded and shook it. “I trust you’d do the same if it were wolves.”

“Absolutely,” he replied.

We parted ways and I looked at my guys. “Thanks for showing up.”

“It wasn’t very fun,” Trigger drawled, almost pouting.

I chuckled and ran my fingertips down my beard. “Sorry you didn’t get to use your new toy.” I jutted my chin at his crossbow pistol.

He lifted a shoulder. “It’s all good. I’ve been beating up one of the live oaks practicing my aim.”

“Of course you have,” I replied, shaking my head. “Head back to the compound. I’ll be back later. Gotta take care of something.”

“You got it,” Trigger replied.

After he, Menace, and the two prospects left, I sat down on a rock by the water and rested my forearms on the knees of my jeans. This was what I came here for before the speedbump of the park brawl.

That wasn’t my first rodeo, though. The supes loved to get into it late at night. Of course the vampires had no choice, as they fried in the sun, but they always seemed to be in the shit. I could remember not too long ago getting a call about some wolves in the French Quarter. Demon and I arrived to find three young teen wolves, still in human form, being threatened by a couple of rogue vamps. I hated turning, but it was times like that I wished I could turn on will, and not just at the full moon. I had to threaten to call Viper, and after Demon and I growled at them a few more times, they eventually split. Those boys were now adults and two of my prospects in the Bayou Wolves.

Demon…

I exhaled sadly when I thought about my former second-in-command. He had also been one of our tech guys. His death was a hard blow to the club as well as myself. He’d been with me for six years, and a good, old-fashioned motorcycle versus semi accident on the I-10 had taken his life last year. My guys took it hard so I’d been trying to stay strong for them. But it was times like this that I needed to be alone.

I turned my face up to the sky to see an almost-full moon taunting me for what was going to come. That was one of the major obstacles we faced. Us wolves—we all turned at the same time, so when one or some of us got into trouble, we couldn’t send reinforcements out to help, as we were all basically incapacitated for several hours each night of the full moon. It was why I didn’t allow my human club members to leave the compound during those nights. They had to hold down the fort for us, so to speak.

Occasionally, we’d hear about rogue wolves getting themselves into trouble while turned, and on more than a few occasions, we’d have one dropped off on our doorstep by one of the Nighthawks. Usually at the recommendation of Venom, since he, too, was a wolf, stuck in a cage at their clubhouse while a prospect or someone would drop off the rouge.

I’d been shocked to hear the Nighthawks had taken in a wolf a few years ago, but he was apparently a good friend of Phoenix’s—the fire-wielding vamp—and they’d let him in. So far, he was working out, but if he didn’t, I would recruit him immediately, especially with his vast knowledge about vampires and their habits. He knew he always had a place here, too.

But… how he tolerated the stench of living with them was something I’d never understand.

In the meantime, I’d been strongly considering letting more humans into our club, but they’d have to be very open-minded. They came in handy when wolves were in trouble during a full moon.

I looked down at my watch to see I’d been sitting here an hour. I stood and headed back to my bike to get home.

Chapter 2

Dualistic

I made my way up the winding dirt road that led to the compound. As I approached the large wrought-iron gate, I waited patiently for it to open. I’d had our bikes and cagers equipped with sensors that opened it when we approached. Anyone else had to ring the buzzer, which alerted cameras inside, where we could buzz them in.

Steering my bike toward the clubhouse, I slowly looked around at all that I’d built. Well, not me… it was a group effort. After packing up and leaving Minnesota with my cousin and a couple of other wolves over two years ago, it was unanimously decided to make our way south, to where more supes were rumored to be. Between myself, Demon, Trigger, and Menace, we sold our personal properties, and, as I owned our small clubhouse, I sold that too, and we pooled our money into a corporation titled Dualistic, Inc., to represent the duality nature of wolves. It mainly consisted of our bar and brewery business, as far as the IRS was concerned, and I bought this ten-acre piece of land and began building. Every dollar we made from our multiple businesses went back into the corporation, or got hidden and laundered, recycled to continue doing business.

When I first arrived in New Orleans, I was shocked to learn of the total disorganization of wolves in this area. They all seemed to be lone wolves—ha—or existing in small packs, mostly consisting of families. It didn’t take long for word to spread among the supernatural community that the Bayou Wolves were highly organized and would be in charge of and representing all werewolves for the area, for all intents and purposes. So far, we hadn’t been challenged, but I figured that would happen sooner or later. And we’d be ready for it. Like the Nighthawks were in charge of the vampires of the area, we were the wolf authority—and I planned to keep it that way.

Straight ahead of me, our massive clubhouse was our safe place, our gathering spot. To its left was a small armory, a cache for weapons. It was more like an extra-large shed, but reinforced with steel. Only myself, Trigger, and Menace had keys to it. To the right of the clubhouse was our brewery and bar, Rumble. Non-club members were allowed in through a yearly pass they paid for. Humans, mostly, who knew nothing of wolves, were granted access, and could always bring one guest. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was exclusive. We had shit to protect and secrets to keep. It was through this club that I planned to try to recruit some more humans into the Bayou Wolves.

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