Page 34 of Licence To Howl
‘I trust we’re not travelling far?’ he inquired. He flicked a look to his right. The mysterious motorcyclist was still there, sitting on top of their bike across the road. Whether he would continue to follow them now that most of Rome’s own werewolves were involved, only time would tell.
The six wolves encircling him didn’t answer. Apparently Orsetto was the only one allowed to talk.
‘Don’t worry, Signore Webb,’ he said. ‘We’ll be there soon enough, even with the rush hour traffic.’
‘Is it closed to tourists?’ Scarlett asked.
‘From 4.30pm.’
Devereau’s left eyebrow twitched. What was it Orsetto had said to her before? Il Colosseo?
‘We’re going to the Colosseum?’
This time, Orsetto elected not to answer. Devereau thought he glimpsed a smile on the face of one of the other wolves, however. Huh. Somehow he didn’t think they were heading to arguably Rome’s most famous tourist spot for some sightseeing. He sighed to himself and got into the backseat of the first car as directed. He’d promised Moretti he’d do this. He had to man up and take his lumps. With any luck it would all be over soon.
Despite the heavy traffic, they pulled up outside the Colosseum within less than twenty minutes. The circular half ruins were lit up from within by warm inviting lights and, despite his attempts at maintaining a cool façade, Devereau felt himself drawing in a sharp breath. It was stunning. He would defy anyone to look up at the structure and not imagine what it must have been like during its heyday almost two thousand years ago.
The werewolf seated next to him, who hadn’t uttered a single word to Devereau yet but who was communicating a great deal from the stench of his breath, turned and grinned at him. Devereau didn’t know if it was caused by excitement or a deliberate attempt at intimidation, but his teeth were bared, shifting before his gaze from stubby human canines to elongated lupine fangs. ‘You can run now,’ he said. ‘If you dare.’
‘You’re talking to the wrong wolf.’
‘Thought you were a sheep, not a wolf.’
Don’t rise to the bait, Devereau told himself. ‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing,’ he answered.
‘We’ll soon see about that.’
Yeah. We will.
Devereau and the others got out of the car. Scarlett emerged from the vehicle behind. She sent him one brief wary look before curving her lips into a delighted smile. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve been here,’ she cooed.
‘Then we are pleased to welcome you back.’
Devereau’s head turned and he spotted Moretti walking towards them. He automatically straightened his spine, drawing himself up. No, he didn’t wish to antagonise the Italian alpha. And no, he wouldn’t act submissive either. He wasn’t beyond playing the role of dippy English tourist, however.
‘We should immortalise the moment with a selfie!’
Moretti grinned. He pulled out a sleek phone and posed, taking a photo only of himself. ‘Looking good, Nicolo. Lookinggooood.’ He winked at Devereau and put the phone away.
Devereau couldn’t do anything but smile in return. Despite the situation and the man’s propensity for grandstanding, he had to admit that, like Scarlett, he liked the man. He had a sense of humour and was quite willing to poke fun at himself. Devereau didn’t think he was particularly under-handed or manipulative either, which was both unexpected and unlike the other werewolf alphas he’d come across so far. Of course, whether he would feel quite so amenable towards Moretti by the time this evening’s shenanigans were over, only time would tell.
‘I’m here as you demanded,’ Devereau said. ‘I do have a request to make of you, however.’
Moretti seemed amused. ‘A request? I’m not sure you’re in any position to be asking for anything, Signore Webb.’
‘I have important business to take care of here in Rome,’ Devereau told him. ‘Life threatening business. I would appreciate it if this,’ he waved a hand around, ‘whatever this is, doesn’t take too long.’
‘That will depend on whether you still have a life to be threatened when we are finished here.’ Moretti’s words were ominous but there was a sparkle in his eyes which belied the gravity of what he was saying.
Devereau didn’t smile. Not everything was a joke. ‘It’s not my life that’s being threatened,’ he said quietly. He’d barely finished speaking when Solentino’s obedient motorcycle man appeared on foot from round the corner. He must have parked the bike somewhere nearby – and it was clear he wasn’t about to give up his chase any time soon.
Moretti gazed at Devereau. ‘I see.’ He nodded thoughtfully while Devereau breathed out. The alpha wolf wasn’t going to cause him too many problems now. He was sure of it. ‘Well, we’ll do our best to be finished by the witching hour but I can’t make any absolute promises. Our audience won’t wish to remain here all night anyway.’
Devereau’s brow creased. ‘Audience?’
Moretti smirked. ‘They’ve paid good money to be here,’ he said. ‘They deserve value for money.’
Scarlett spoke up from the side. ‘I doubt you’ll have any worries on that score.’ She curtsied mockingly.
