Page 44 of Deadly Wolf Bite

“Rocco wants to train Dutch, but my father refuses.”

“Why?”

I sigh. “He suspects Dutch knew about my failed coup five years ago. He doesn’t fully trust him.”

“Did he?”

My thoughts darken at the memory of that time. “He covered my trail so my father wouldn’t know where I went or how to find me.”

“And Razor and Crow?”

My mouth lifts. Telling her this one cheers me up. “Alvaro invited Razor, but he refused to come unless Crow’s invited too.”

She matches my half-smile. “Good.”

“Listen,” I say, sobering quickly, “what you’ll see in there… It’s not going to be pretty.”

“I don’t expect it to be.”

“The thing is, they’re monsters who get off on hurting people, but they’re also just enforcing what we consider our laws. So, it’s not something we can talk them out of.”

“Okay.”

“What I mean is?—”

“Grey.” She lays her hand over mine. “I’m walking into a room full of the most ruthless predators to walk the earth. I’m not expecting an ice cream social.”

Her smile’s probably meant to put me at ease, but it only makes me more certain I should’ve left her at home.

Too late.

The car pulls to a stop in front of GV Industries, the high-rise that houses Franco’s professional offices and serves as the pack’s headquarters. The sound of raised voices draws my attention, and I glance out the tinted windows to the street beyond. The sidewalk in front of the building is already lined with reporters blocking the doors so they can get a clear shot of us before we go inside. I was expecting that. What I didn’t expect is the crowd assembled across the street, many holding posters and signs and chanting words too muffled to make out.

One of the signs reads Expose the Scandal. Another says Stop Stealing From Our Kids.

“What’s going on over there?” Lexi asks.

“Looks like a protest,” I say, frowning. “Word must’ve gotten out that school funds are missing.”

“Missing?”

“Re-allocated,” I say, shaking my head as my temper spikes hot. “Franco probably decided he needed another mountain cabin.”

Recently, Dutch dug up proof of a huge chunk of tax money being siphoned into the Giovanni Foundation—Franco’s supposed charity, which mostly operates as a smokescreen for laundering more than his share of city funds back to himself. According to Dutch’s hacking, some of that money was meant for the local schools’ music and arts programs.

Apparently, Dutch and I aren’t the only ones who’ve put the pieces together. Citizens of Indigo Hills aren’t stupid; it was only a matter of time until they figured it out. But protesting in the street—in front of Franco’s building, at that—isn’t going to win their cause any points.

Before I can explain it all to Lexi, Elio opens my door.

I hesitate as the protestors’ chanting hits me.

“Fund our schools! Fund our schools!”

Lexi nudges me, and I shove my worry for these people aside as I climb out. There are cameras and reporters waiting for us, but for once, they’re not here for quotes about the happy couple’s pending nuptials. This is pack business, plain and simple, and they all want to broadcast or headline the main events. The public thrives on news, even when it’s sadistic. Especially then.

Lexi joins me on the sidewalk just as another limo pulls to a stop behind ours. Mia and Charlie Reyes get out. Lexi hesitates, waiting for Mia, but I grab her hand and pull her along.

“Not now,” I say quietly.

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