Page 75 of Her Wolf

“Christ,” Lars murmured, wiping his eye with a knuckle. “That’s what you heard?”

“That was after she cut off his dick.”

This sent Lars into another fit of laughter, Dean right behind. Lars turned, his back to the wall, and slid down so he could sit before his legs deposited him on the ground.

Dean sank down beside him. “But seriously, she didn’t do that?”

“No, Jesus,” Lars managed. He cleared his throat, beckoned for the bottle of soda water, and nearly emptied it. He handed the last inch back to Dean as he let the liquid fizz away in his mouth. Then he swallowed hard and said, “She stuck him in the heart, sliced his throat, and then kind of skewered one of his eyes.”

Dean’s eyes were wide behind his mask. Lars thought this would bring on another laughing fit, but instead the man took a somber drink of water, lifting his mask and revealing a wide, curving mouth. He looked young, perhaps only a few years older than Lars.

“Mother have mercy…now I really want to meet her,” Dean said, tossing the now empty soda bottle over the chain fence. “Is she as hot as everyone says?”

“Yeah,” Lars replied, sobering. “That she is.”

“So you like, work for her?” Dean asked.

He looked at the man, feeling a prickle of unease working its way down his spine. But then Dean’s eyes glittered as he smiled, and he realized he was just getting paranoid from the weed again.

“I do,” Lars said.

“Could you…could you introduce me?” Dean asked, sitting forward a little like a kid who couldn’t wait for Christmas morning.

“Nah…” Lars waved a hand. “I would, but tonight’s supposed to be very—” he tapped the mask where it rested on the top of his head “—anonymous, you know?”

“Why?” Dean asked. “I’d have thought the two new capos would want to show off. Let everyone know who’s in charge. That kind of stuff.”

Lars shrugged. “I think they’re still feeling out who’s loyal and who’s not.”

“Ah, like El Guapo’s crew. You think some of them are still around? Like lank pissed ‘cos the new capo offed him?”

Lars nodded, and rubbed his eyelids with his fingers. He wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes were bloodshot. Dean’s looked a little red, as much as he could see through the mask’s eye holes.

“Oh, hey…” Dean lifted a finger and stuck a hand in his suit again. “You feel like partying?”

The man pulled out a small zip lock bag, barely an inch across. Inside were several small off-white pills.

“Molly?” Lars asked, taking the bag from him and inspecting the pills through the plastic.

“Yeah. Good ones, apparently.”

“Shit, I really shouldn’t…” Lars began.

Dean snatched the bag back from him, peeled it open, and took out one of the pills. “I shouldn’t either, but I’ll be fucked if I’m going to hang around here all night sober.” He stabbed a thumb behind him. “You hear that music playing earlier?” He put his hands into fists and twisted his shoulders, mimicking dancing where he sat. “It’s calling my fucking name.”

Christ, it was calling his, too. Lars licked his lips, staring down at the bag where it dangled from Dean’s fingers.

“Yeah…maybe just—”

But he’d been too focused on the drugs, and not on Dean. The man had slipped off his mask, baring a strikingly handsome face. When Lars looked up, he froze.

Dean gave him a coy wink, popped a pill in his mouth, and darted forward.

Their lips met in a violent kiss that Lars reared back from in surprise. But Dean’s hand found the back of his neck, dragging him back.

Bitter pharmaceuticals mingled with weed-sweet saliva as Dean’s tongue slid between his teeth.

Fuck, why the hell wasn’t he pushing this guy away? What was wrong with him?

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