Page 13 of Jack of All Trades

“You think you’d be the alpha? Come on,” he said, laughing.

“I could be if…you know, I was a shifter.”

Garvey shook his head and took the beer from Jack’s hand. “Sure, buddy.”

“How do you know? If you’re the one that, you know, gets knocked up?”

After he shrugged his shoulder and handed him back the beer, Garvey said, “Easy. You’ve got the parts inside you. I don’t.”

“How do you know? Do you check?”

“Sure. I got checked during my first school physical. I’m no alpha, but I don’t have to be to get someone preggers.”

Realizing how little he knew about shifters, he decided it might be a good idea to start reading up on them—just in case. Then something else came to him, and he waited until Garvey went into the bathroom to shower.

Opening the book that listed the names of the families producing hellhounds, he used his finger to guide him down the list until he came to the Gs. He’d passed right over them before when he’d looked for his own name.

The end of the Gs, it was there. Graves.

“No fucking way.”

He left in a rush and felt like time was chasing him as he waited impatiently for the bus. It felt worse the many times the bus stopped on the way to his stop. He drummed his hands on his thighs until the man across from him cleared his throat and scowled at him. After shoving his hands in his pockets, he watched the city go by agonizingly slowly before he came to his stop, where he jumped up and exited the bus like the devil was chasing him.

When he saw the warehouse, his heart started to pound in his chest. He felt the man. From a hundred yards away, he felt Maltin like they were near enough to touch. Warmth started in his chest and quickly consumed him. Jack hungered for Maltin like he’d been starving all his life, and Maltin was the only food that would satisfy him.

He slowly walked up the slight rise, despite how impatient he was to get there. With each step, he got warmer, like the sun was falling from the sky right over him, and the nearer it got, the more he burned.

Then, like magic, Maltin stood outside the warehouse as if he’d felt Jack coming, and Jack’s heart leaped into his throat. He stopped, staring at the man, and suddenly, the doubts ended. He knew beyond a doubt that Maltin was meant to be his.

Maltin began to close the distance between them, and Jack followed suit, taking one step, then another. The closer he got, the more he felt the man.

When they stood beside the road a foot apart, tears began to spring to his eyes, and the world blurred until they ran down his cheeks.

Maltin went to him quickly, grabbing his upper arms, and that touch didn’t throw him, but Maltin’s hands burned into his flesh. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“I’m…I’m confused and…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I don’t know either, but maybe we’re supposed to find out together.”

Dark, deep eyes stared into his, and Jack’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to kiss Maltin, but he also knew that if he started, he’d be unable to stop. They’d be naked and writhing in the middle of the parking lot with cars driving by, witnessing their coupling.

Coupling. He’d never called it that before, even in his own mind. “We should go into your house.”

“Yes,” Maltin agreed, letting his hands slide down Jack’s arms until he took both of Jack’s hands in his. “Come with me, Jack. Don’t be afraid.”

Frankly, he was terrified of his new reality. When he was led to the loft and Maltin helped him to sit on the sofa, he finally found his voice again and asked weakly, “Did you know?”

“Know? Know what, Jack?”

“That you were…are…we are…hellhounds?”

Maltin stopped moving like he’d been frozen solid, and his eyes glazed over as he stared at Jack. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t know?”

It was Maltin’s turn to sit as he paled and started to shake.

Jack knew then that Maltin had no idea.

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