Page 23 of Soulmates
The waitress swings by with his burger, which gives him a minute to compose an answer. After applying ketchup, he takes a bite and chews. Swallows. “Not bad. Overcooked.”
“You’re a wolf. You’d like it better if it was bleeding.”
His shrug says I’m not wrong. “Now, about refusing Dad—”
I interrupt him. “You don’t give me the impression that your heart is in it. Don’t you have a brother or sister who could step in?”
He pours more ketchup, this time for his fries. “No brothers, and Abby isn’t an alpha. She’s younger than me, so it would be even harder for her to keep everybody in line.”
I tap a finger on the table like I’ll be able to shake loose a new idea. Should have picked a diner with a bar attached so I could have some tequila. “Still, seems like taking over a werewolf pack when you don’t want to is a setup for problems.”Disaster, really.“Maybe you should spend some time thinking about what you really want to do.”
Raising his water glass, he gives me a mock toast. “Thanks for the advice, Grandpa. I’ll be sure to take it under advisement.”
O-kay. Time for a subject change. “So what’s the game plan for tomorrow night?”
David is midbite. He chews and swallows and answers. “We’re going in confident. We don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, between the two of us we’ll handle it. There’s no reason for Brendan to send me back to Seattle.”
“Sounds good.” I like this take-charge version of David, but I’m still tapping the tabletop, still looking for alternatives. “Be even better if we knew what he was up to ahead of time.”
David points at me with a fry. “Now you’re talking. I wonder who might know…”
I list everyone I can think of who might have heard rumors about the Collins pack. David texts his sister and a cousin or two, trying to figure out what his uncle is up to without actually asking. Neither of us comes up with much, although I do manage to line Sheena up as backup. Uncle Brendan said she couldn’t come into the meeting with David, but he didn’t say anything about keeping watch outside.
After a vigorous game of hide the pickle, David sleeps while I stand guard. We switch off at sunrise, and I spend the day in the hotel’s vampire room while David keeps watch. Later, I rise and put on my very best hit man chic, but when I let myself into the main hotel room, I’m in for a shock.
David sits at the desk, typing vigorously on a laptop. He’s wearing navy-blue trousers and a crisp white button-down with a light blue tie. His suitcoat is draped over the back of his chair, and his hair is combed into the approximation of a conservative style.
“Who the hell are you, and where is David?”
He smirks at me, closing the laptop lid. “I told you. Dad wants me to take over the pack, so I need to look the part.”
I shake my head. It’s David, the tame version. “Not even a little lip gloss?”
Grinning, David puts on his jacket and straightens his tie. “Let’s go see what Uncle Brendan wants.”
I follow him out, not at all sure his sudden transformation bodes well for the future.
We also drive past the Walgreens where we left the Escalade andpraise Jesus, it’s still there. We swap it for the CRV—with the gas tank full as a thank-you to the owner—and switch the plates. Restored to my monster truck, we’re ready to rumble.
We pick up Sheena on the way. She takes one look at David and hoots. “Back in the day, we would have asked why you’re dressed like an undertaker.”
He tosses his head, for a moment giving us full diva David. “They say you gotta know your audience.”
I don’t entirely agree, but I keep my mouth shut.
We park in the lot next to the Harris Building in downtown LA. Our plan is simple. David and I will go in, and Sheena will keep watch from the ground floor. If things go sideways and David’s uncle tries to march him out, she’ll be there to interfere and presumably I’ll be right behind them.
Better to have a plan for trouble than to have it catch you unawares.
Retail stores occupy the street level, and though they’ve all closed for the day, David knows the code to let us in the building’s main door. Sheena reclines at a table in a coffee shop that opens into the lobby, her long legs outstretched and her phone in her hand. David leads me to an elevator that takes the two of us to the second floor, where the American Were Authority has a suite of offices. We’re met at the reception desk by a young wolf who greets David like a brother.
“Traj, this is my cousin Marcus.” David knocks a fist against his cousin’s shoulder.
I offer to shake hands, and Marcus almost carries it off without letting me see his grimace. “Nice to meet you,” I say without cracking a grin.
Marcus is also wearing a suit, though his is a deep charcoal-gray with faint pinstripes. “Come on. Dad and the others are waiting.”
I can’t wait to see how manyothershe means.
