Page 9 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

Finished with the paper, I put it down as I ponder another mystery. “Why were the victims all male? They prefer females who can’t run as fast.”

Joy’s eyes narrow.

As my sole female enforcer, she’s also one of my toughest. She’s petite with short white-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. If anyone else had said what I just did, she’d have her claws buried in their throat before they knew what was happening. Given I’m her Alpha, she settles for a narrowed glare.

“It’s a biological fact,” Cruz, another of my enforcers, says. “Among regular humans, women are slower and weaker than the males. That’s just the way things are. Google it if you don’t believe me.”

“Goes back to hunter gatherer days.” A brief smile slashes across Emilio’s face. He scratches his short curly brown hair as he reclines in his seat. “Men were out there doing the hunting with their sharp pointy sticks and their little woman was at home nursing the babe.”

“It’s like you want to die,” Finan says, eyeing Joy as he speaks.

He can’t be the only one to have noticed the way Joy’s right eye started twitching at ‘little woman.’

Just because Emilio is Joy’s mate doesn’t mean he’s immune to her temper.

No one is.

Except me, and that’s only because my temper is more legendary than hers.

She pokes Emilio in the chest.

Emilio winces. “Not with claws,mi vida.”

Cruz rolls his eyes at Emilio’s Spanish endearment for Joy. He came to Montana from a pack in South America at eighteen, fell for Joy, and for the last nine years, she’s been ‘his life.’

She growls something. He murmurs something into her ear. She makes a pleased sound, and Wesley blows out a breath. “The things I have overheard those two whisper into each other’s ears…” He shakes his head. “Jesus. Someone needs to wash my ears out with soap.”

I point at Cruz and Wes before we lose track of the reason I called this meeting. “You two are going to the campus. To…” I scan the newspaper. “Gregson College. Find the feral, watch it for other signs of strange behavior, then bring it back here. I want to know why it’s being selective with its victims.”

They usually devolve after a couple of kills. So why hasn’t this one?

“You never send us,” Emilio complains, with his arm slung around Joy’s shoulders.

“You and Joy are easily distracted by fucking or arguing. This is work, and you do your best work when I’m around to growl at you.” I look at Finan. “Get them the credit card. They’ll need a motel for the night.”

Gregson College is only a few hours south of us, but they’ll still be gone a night or two.

My focus returns to Cruz and Wes. “This one is not behaving like normal. Watch each other’s back and check in twice a day. I’m not losing any more of my pack to ferals. If you get yourselves killed, I’ll bring you back to life to kill you again. Remember Missouri?”

They nod.

“This feral needs a different kind of watching. Try that first. Now, all of you leave. I have to talk to Finan.”

Orders delivered, they get to their feet and file out of my office, chatting among themselves about the feral.

They’ll eat. Cruz and Wes will pack, grab the credit card and bring home this feral. Or kill it if capturing it proves too dangerous. In the meantime, we can prepare for its arrival.

“I’m surprised you’re not pushing to go yourself,” Finan says after everyone has left.

In my last hunt, I came face to face with a feral near an outdoor gym at a beach in California that made me lose control.

I hadn’t cared who saw me tear the animal apart.

I’d nearly exposed what we are.That’show little I’d given a shit about observers. Luckily, it had been nearly 3, too early for most people to be around, but it could have been worse.

A lot worse.

Until I learn better control over myself, it’s best to stay in Burning Wood.

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